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cashmoneyyysstuff · 6 months

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bakugo and reader meeting again after a long time like maybe katsu has been away on a mission and he just misses us so much 🥹

anon this is literally such an adorable request!! This has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time cus i could never rlly figure out what i wanted to do with this, but as soon as i got the inspo i got to it !! im so so sososuuupperr sorry for making you wait so long and if you’re still sticking around, I LUB YOU !! anyways, i tried honoring this lovely sweet request as best i could, if you’re reading, i truly hope you enjoy (and all of you ofc!!) <33

fem reader, jus pure fluffy fluff ! katsuki n reader watch selling sunsets bc my mom does lmfaoo this ones for you momma, kissing, biting (lol will i ever stop), lemme know if i missed sum else !

katsuki regrets planning this surprise.

it’s been one month. exactly 31 days since he’s last seen you. one month he had to survive off of late night phone calls and good morning messages.

katsuki had slowly but surely started climbing up the ranks as a hero ever since he’d gone independent and this mission was a huge steppingstone to victory.

except it involved him going abroad for a month.

you’d congratulated him when he’d told you. you hugged him hard and offered him your brightest sunshine smile, you’d made him dance around your little living room with you, celebrating his ‘rise to stardom’ as you’d called it and he remembers chuckling about it. you’d even gone out of your way and made his favorite to celebrate. but now katsuki understand you were probably doing that so as not to worry him.

he's known you for a long while and he knows you know he can tell when you’re lying, so he was sure you were happy for him. (you can’t fake anything from him and especially not the way you smile, he’s committed that to memory). and you truly looked happy for him, but he knows youwell enough to know that you were also devastated to find out he was leaving for so long. he’d seen the way your eyes widened and your shoulders dropped. but knowing you, you probably powered through it so as not to make him worry.

so stupid. you’re stupid. and he misses you so much.

despite you being in different time zones you make it work. he made sure to be updated daily and called you every time it was time for you to go to bed to make sure you got some well needed sleep and not staying up late mindlessly scrolling through your feed.

you send him pictures of everything happening throughout your day and you’d hound him about his, asking him if he’d eaten well and if he’d beat up any bad guys. and no matter how minuscule his actions were you’d always praise him. as somewhat childish as he knew it was katsuki still walked with his head up high for the rest of the day. if it was to impress you and make you proud, he’d be on the clock 24/7. but, knowing you, you’d get mad at him for overworking himself.

he misses you so much.

he’s on the plane. making his way back home to you a day before he’d told you he would be, his surprise. you’d been so excited, your squeals ringing through the phone, katsuki just couldn’t wipe the smile of his face and goddamnit he tried.

“ou, i can’t wait ! i missed you sooo much, katsu !” you chirped, he couldn’t wait to hear your voice in real life again instead of through his phone.

“yeah, missed you too sweets” he hums, packing up the last of his stuff.

“you better be ready cus when you get back, m’not gonna let you go for a whole month.” you tease, giggling. katsuki huffs out a laugh, looking down at his luggage ready to go as he’d fully finished packing up while you were on the phone.

“uhuh~?” he muses “better be ready for me when i get back. yer not goin’ anywhere either. no bathroom breaks when we're cuddling.”

“ew,” you snort “what am i supposed to do if i have to pee ?”

“that sounds like a you problem, sweetheart.”

you laugh and laugh and katsuki smiles, he couldn’t wait to be able to hear and see it again. expect not one phone call away, like he’d told you he always would be when you’d accompanied him to the airport all teary eyed, but in real life.

except now he’s starting to regret not just coming home on time.

don’t get him wrong, the sooner he gets to you the better. he’d meant it when he told you he wouldn’t let you go and as somewhat embarrassing as it is to him that he had gotten so clingy, being away from you for so long really did a number on him. distance makes the heart grow fonder his ass, he was more than fond of you when he was laying next to you every night instead of all alone in his hotel bed.

but right now he’s way too antsy. he wants to tell you about how he’ll be home soon to hear you squeal and giggle, but he sucks it up in favor of surprising you.

it’ll be worth it. at least that’s what he tried to convince himself when he finished packing up. and on his way to the airport. and on the plane..

who even thought of this stupid surprise idea anyway ?!

he can’t sit still. he has to stop himself from tapping his foot against the floor and shuffling around in his seat. the guy in front of him keeps reclining his seat back but it doesn’t bother him that much, because all he needs is to remember your smile and remember he’s coming home to you, and he feels his nerves settle. recliner-seat-guy be damned.

it’s pitch black by the time he’s off the plane and finally back home. when he checks his phone he sees it’s 2:09 am and you’re no doubt dead asleep by now, he smiles at his phone screen when he sees you smiling back at him.

his limbs suddenly feel heavier the higher the numbers show on the screen inside the elevator to his floor. his body buzzes with excitement but for some reason he can’t help feeling nervous. katsuki knows it’s stupid because you tell him every day how much you miss him and how excited you are to see him. all he wants right now is to see you.

he fumbles around a bit when he fits his keys into the door to walk into your tiny shared apartment and when he finally walks back inside, katsuki is reminded why he does this. why he’s been gone for exactly 31 days.

he kicks his shoes off quietly and sees yours left right by the door like they always are. like he always wants them to be. he wants to come home to your shoes by the door and to you smiling at him brightly and greeting him, or beckoning him over to the couch because you’ve been waiting all day to watch your favorite show with him. (he’s forbidden you from watching any episode of selling sunsets without him, the last time you did he got cranky at you for a good 2 hours.)

katsuki sneaks over to your room, socked feet padding over to the door quietly cracking it open. he’d managed to convince you to move in with him a few months ago, claiming it’d lower costs and yapping about how you practically lived here anyway. it was barely anything to get used to, it felt natural, like this was everything his life was leading up to. but he wants to give you everything you deserve and this cramped little apartment is definitely not it.

he wants to give you a cosy little house, or a penthouse or even a fucking mansion if that was what you wanted, as long as he could be there with you he didn’t care. he’d do whatever he could to get you everything you dreamed of at the flick of a wrist. and that’s why, as annoying and lonely as it was to be without you for so long, he’d pushed through.

katsuki needs to save people, and he wants to. but everything he does, he does with you in a little corner of his mind.

you’re fast asleep like he’d expected, katsuki huffs out a laugh, brushing at your cheek with his finger. his heart almost explodes when you try to lean into the faint touch and he can’t help it anymore. he sits down by your side and kisses your cheek. once, two times, three times and a little one on your nose. if he wasn’t feeling all mushy he’d be an asshole and bite you, but you look so cute he’ll put that off for now.

your nose scrunches up and your eyebrows furrow at the wet kiss onto your skin, you instinctively go to rub at your face with a whine, katsuki chuckles to himself when you open your eyes and the lack of distance between you both meaning your quite literally face to face with him.

“katsu..?” you mumble sleepily “ ‘m i dreamin’ ?”

katsuki chuckles, eyes soft “glad to know ya dream about me, but nah, this isn't a dream.”

you blink sleepily, and katsuki recognize those bright eyes he so loves gleaming the more you wake up “katsuki !” you squeal, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him straight against your collarbone, since he was practically nose to nose with you before he knocks against your chin but you both don’t care.

katsuki crawls into bed and wraps his arms around you tightly, snickering into your neck and you into his hair. you squeeze and squeeze him so hard he thinks you’ll suffocate him but he couldn’t care less, squeezing you like he’s trying to mold you to him.

you breathe him in and he flips you both over with you giggling uncontrollably. you topple over and land straight into his chest. you lift your head up with stars in your eyes like he’d hung up the moon for you and katsuki smirks back softly. because he would. he’d hang up the moon and the stars and more.

all for you.

“you’re back !” you chirp, kissing all over his face. katsuki feels his cheeks hurt, this is the hardest and longest he’d smiled in a month.

“how’d you figure that one out ?” you roll your eyes at his sarcastic remark, blowing lip bubbles against his cheeks as punishment. he playfully pushes your face away from him and you laugh.

“i thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow..” you quickly reach over to your nightstand to check your phone then throw it back down.

“it is tomorrow.” katsuki quips, already getting back to being a smart ass, you roll your eyes but you can’t wipe off the happy look on your face.

“you know what i mean, asshole” you jokingly narrow your eyes at his smug face and press a finger against his cheek “later tomorrow i mean. was gonna surprise you and you….out-surprised, me” you pout at your ruined plans.

he turns his face so he can sink his teeth into your pointer finger and you quietly squeal in disapproval, he smirks “was gonna, but couldn’t wait anymore. needed to see you.” he pulls you closer to run his nose against your pulse point “felt like i was gonna go fucking crazy if i stayed with those other bastards for a second longer.”

you giggle, placing your hands against his shoulders as he kisses up and down your shoulder and neck haphazardly “ don’t be mean.” you scold.

he lifts his head up to raise a brow at you, hands running up and down your sides “you mean to tell me you wanted me to stay away? didn’t miss me ?” he jokes, squeezing your hips harshly.

“of course i did. missed you so much i felt my heart would tear up sometimes..” you smiles sadly, running your fingers through his blond strands, he frowns "but i'm glad you're back now."

"yeah, and m'not leaving again for a damn long while." he squeezes you so hard he lifts you up in his lap a little bit and a surprised noise leak out of you. he lifts his head up from your chest to smirk at you in challenge "you're gonna have to get used to me and my big mouth all over again."

your heart squeezes, you feel like it'll bursts from happiness and katsuki wonders if he' supposed to feel this happy, if it's okay to be this content with one person. but only for a moment, because he's greedy, so so greedy for you. and he doesn't care if it's wrong because he gets to make you happy, to make you smile and laugh, to have you.

and katsuki does everything for you, so he gives himself to you without a second thought.

you hum, placing your hands against his soft cheeks to press your lips to his "got a month worth of your big mouth i need to catch up on." you whisper before finally closing the distance. you both immediately sigh in relief at the contact, being able to feel each other like this again. you smile into the kiss and katsuki thinks he's never felt more at peace.

after a month, exactly 31 days, katsuki's finally back.

bonus :

"hey." katsuki ask, you snuggle into his side and hum.

"did you watch any episodes of selling sunsets without me ?"

you stiffen.

"n-noooo..." the sheets shuffle and crinkle when katsuki looks down at you. you shrink into yourself.

"maybe one or two.." you squeak out meekly. immediately he's flipping you over and pouncing on you.

"fuckin' traitor." he growls.

"i'm sorry i couldn't help myself !" you wheeze when he starts tickling your sides, kicking at the sheets "it's been a month !" you screech trying to catch your breath.

"yeah i know that !" he exclaims, ignoring the way you're thrashing around as he mercilessly tickles you.

"i'm soooorryy !!"

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megalony · 7 months

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Little Bird- Part 2

This is the second part of my Evan Buckley imagine, thank you all for the amazing feedback on the first part. I hope you will all like this one and I have another part planned.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: Evan starts to find himself falling for his new neighbour and her little girl. And he will do anything he can to help them when they need him.

Enjoy.

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(Y/n) rolled her lips together and tried to stop the panic from spreading across her face when she cautiously walked through the door into the fire station. She had never been in here before. She had never stepped foot inside any fire station before and it filled her with panic.

What if Evan wasn't here? What if he was out on a call and (Y/n) had to turn around and take Birdie home? What if she wasn't allowed to be here? Evan told her she could come by anytime and he would show Birdie around the station since she had asked so many times. But maybe the Captain wouldn't be so easy-going about friends stopping by. After all, (Y/n) didn't have any kind of emergency.

If Evan wasn't here, (Y/n) wasn't sure she would be allowed to wait around for him to get back. She wouldn't want to impose and wait with strangers. She would rather take Birdie home.

But Birdie was here now, and there was no way the toddler was leaving without seeing Evan first.

A high-pitch squeal left Birdie's lips when she realised where they were and she began clapping her hands. She rocked back and forth in her pushchair until (Y/n) cringed and stopped walking before Birdie tipped herself over.

(Y/n) felt a desireable urge to turn around and rush out before anyone saw them, but when she tilted he head up, a wave of relief and vertigo rushed over her all at once.

Evan was here. He was upstairs, casually leaning over the balcony with his back arched over and a cup of coffee in his hand. The moment his eyes found the source of the squealing, one of the brightest smiles (Y/n) had ever seen washed over his face and he hurried to move.

She swayed back as she tried to keep watching him before she tilted her head forward to stop herself from wobbling.

Moving round, (Y/n) crouched down in front of the pushchair and undid the clasp to let the three year old hop out.

Birdie was off within a second. She stretched her arms out in front of her and bolted as fast as her legs could carry her across to the stairs and she waited at the bottom for Evan to head down to her. Another squeal left her lips when Evan scooped her up and planted her on his hip.

"There's my little bird! Are you okay girlie?" Evan bounced her on his right hip and moved his left hand to cup her neck so he could kiss her cheek.

But he pulled back with a grin when he suddenly realised what she was wearing, more specifically, what she was wearing on her head. She had a miniature yellow helmet that sort of looked like the helmets the team wore when they were out on a call. Of course it was three times smaller than Evan's and it was shaped a little differently, more like a construction hard hat, but it was still similar.

And right across the front, 118 had been painted in dark blue paint in a very neat, cursive handwriting that Evan recognised instantly. He flicked his finger against the hat and tipped it back on Birdie's head so he could see her better and look at that dazzling smile.

"What's this? Are you coming to work with me now, little bird?"

He liked it.

"Yeah," Birdie broke off with a cough and tilted her head down to cough into Evan's chest, almost bashing his chin with her hat. But when she looked back up at him, she grinned and kissed his cheek.

Evan knew she hadn't been at nursery today or yesterday because she had a bad chest infection. She only went to nursery two days a week and this week she was staying at home with (Y/n) because she wasn't well. And she didn't look much better than when Evan saw her yesterday. But she was in a bubbly mood which made him a little calmer.

When Birdie leaned her cheek on Evan's shoulder, he pressed his cheek on top of her helmet and swayed her from side to side while he walked over towards (Y/n). She was moving the pushchair near the lockers so it was tucked up in the corner, away and not at risk of causing any accidents.

He reeled his free arm around her waist and pulled her back into his chest so he could kiss the top of her head. "Hi," He murmured quietly into her hair while (Y/n) turned around in his arm and looped her arms loosely around his torso beneath Birdie's legs.

(Y/n) pressed her chin into Evan's chest so she could look up at him and her lips curved into a gentle smile when she looked up at his baby blue eyes.

"We missed you," She mumbled into his chest with a sheepish grin. It wasn't just Birdie who was desperate to come down to the station and see Evan. (Y/n) missed him too. She wanted to curl around him and hear his voice and see him at work just as much as her daughter did.

"That's what I like to hear. Wanna go meet the team?"

With Birdie tucked up into his chest and neck, Evan took the chance to lean down and kiss (Y/n). Birdie seemed to have an instinct to know exactly when Evan was trying to wrap around (Y/n) or kiss her or get close to her because Birdie would suddenly call out for him and find him no matter where he was.

His hand wandered up her back until he was holding the back of her neck and his thumb brushed up and down her skin beneath her hair. (Y/n) shivered at the touch and she could feel herself going lightheaded as her heartbeat pulsed beneath her skin.

(Y/n) pecked his cheek when they parted and she reached her hand up to hold his hand that moved to loop around the back of her shoulders instead.

They wandered over to the stairs and climbed up and (Y/n) took her time to look around. She had seen a lot of people downstairs near the gym or wandering the halls, but there were a handful of people up here too.

"Hey Buck, do we have guests today?" Bobby leaned back in his seat at the far end of the table and smiled around the rim of his cup.

"These are my girls, (Y/n) and Birdie." Evan had talked about them often enough for the team to know who they were and what they now meant to Evan. And Hen had found their first meeting so sweet when Evan told her about the girls being stuck on the balcony, she seemed to think it was some sort of lovey-dovey, Romeo and Juliet kind of thing.

(Y/n) brushed her hair behind her ear and sat down when Evan motioned to one of the seats at the table. He stood behind her chair and carefully stood Birdie up on the table with his hands on her waist so she didn't slip or tumble.

"That's my Captain, Bobby."

Birdie tilted her head to the side and smiled. They could all see the wheels turning in her head and (Y/n) knew she was wondering why no one was wearing their helmets yet.

"You drive the wee-woo?" She pointed behind her towards the balcony and Bobby nodded when Evan mumbled "The truck," so he knew what she was referring to.

"I do sometimes, and I'm sure Buck will let you look round the truck if you want."

"Oh, wow, what a cool hat. Have we got a new recruit already?" Chimney leaned across the table and planted his hands down opposite Birdie. She spun round to face him and tilted her head down shyly while she leaned back until her back was resting up against Evan's chest. And she smiled when Evan's arms curled around her middle.

"This is my new partner." Evan gave her helmet a little nudge as if to prove his point and Chimney nodded with a grin.

But when he leaned across the table and playfully swiped the helmet from her head, (Y/n) sat forward and shook her head. She had barely been able to get Birdie to take off the helmet when it was time to go to bed last night and when she knew she was coming here, she wouldn't put it down. Birdie was fiercely protective over her toys and that helmet was her new prized possession.

She seemed to think everyone was going to take it away and steal it from her forever. It didn't matter that she could still see it in front of her, it was no longer on her head.

Her arms stretched out in front of her and her lower lip wobbled as a small, croaky sob left her lips and tears pooled in her eyes.

Birdie tilted her head back onto Evan's shoulder and pointed as another cry bubbled past her lips, breaking off into a cough that made her chest hurt and make her cry even more. She shivered when Evan's arm tightened around her waist and she watched him click his fingers assertively at Chimney.

"Give my girl her helmet back."

Chimney handed it back instantly and Evan placed it back on Birdie's head before he turned her around and lifted her up off the table.

"There we go, it's back you're okay. Come on, let's go look round the wee-woo." Evan kissed her cheek and picked her up, letting her sniff and cough into his neck as she bound her arms around his neck. He smoothed his hand up and down her back but he didn't like how much she was coughing or how badly she was starting to struggle to breathe.

(Y/n) quietly mouthed 'sorry' to Chimney but he shook his hand with a smile. He hadn't realised it would upset her, he shouldn't have pinched her helmet. He made his way over to the sink and when Evan turned around, (Y/n) pushed up from the table to follow. But she stopped when Bobby reached out and gently held her wrist to pull her back.

"You both make him very happy." He murmured softly while his eyes remained on Evan who was already walking down the stairs. Happily telling Birdie about all the features on the truck.

A tender smile lit up (Y/n)'s face even as she shook her head and looked back down at Bobby.

"No, he makes us happy."

(Y/n) followed down the stairs and wandered along with them to the truck. She leaned against the side door, arms folded across her chest and a smile lighting up her face as Evan wandered round the truck, showing Birdie all the compartments and telling her what they stored in each one.

When they moved round to the front of the truck, (Y/n) moved too and she smiled when Evan opened the door and gently lifted Birdie up into the driver's seat. She flopped down on the seat and started to giggle and cough when she couldn't see over the steering wheel which she grabbed and pretended to drive so (Y/n) could take a picture.

Reaching up on her tiptoes, (Y/n) curved her arms around Evan's neck and pressed a kiss just below his jaw which acted as a secret button to make him shiver and turn to jelly.

"Thank you for this." She kissed his jaw again and again until Evan turned his head and captured her with a kiss instead. He wormed his arm around her waist to keep her as close as he could get her but just as Evan went to slide his hand down her back towards the top of her jeans, he stopped.

Birdie was coughing again.

"Alright little bird, come here."

(Y/n) stayed wrapped around Evan as he reached up and lifted Birdie down into his arms. Neither of them liked the way she started to wheeze and her eyes filled with tears again when her chest started to ache and twinge from how badly she was coughing.

She burrowed down into Evan's chest but when she kept coughing, Evan's eyes narrowed. He reached his hand up and gently pulled her lower lip down so he could peer into her mouth.

"Her lips are tinged blue… do you mind if I ask Eddie to take a look at her?" The way Evan frowned was enough to make (Y/n)'s heart race and she nodded, curling her hands around his arm to keep herself upright.

It could be nothing, but Evan had been doing this job for a good few years now and he noticed the signs. He knew if someone's inner lips were blue, it was a sign of lack of oxygen or a worser sign if someone already had an infection. Evan would rather be safe than sorry and ask Eddie to do a quick once-over of Birdie so they knew she was okay and didn't need a trip to the doctor.

And he had to ask (Y/n) first. Evan would never want to step on her toes and do something like that without her permission first.

"Baby, can I put your hat in my locker with mine so it stays safe while we go and look round? I don't wanna lose it." Evan waited for Birdie to nod before he swiped the helmet from her head and stepped to put it on top of his helmet in his locker.

He quickly pressed the back of his hand against Birdie's head, pretending he was brushing her hair back while he checked if her skin was flushed or not. It was.

"Eddie," He moved his free hand to cradle the back of Birdie's head, keeping her tucked up into his neck while he headed over to the locker room with (Y/n) hot on his heels. "This is (Y/n) and Birdie… can you do me a favour and check her over for us?"

"Sure, what's wrong?" Eddie smiled at both girls and nodded his head over at (Y/n). He had heard all about them these past few weeks and it was nice to finally meet the girl Evan was infatuated with.

"She's got a chest infection, she's got worse since yesterday." (Y/n) bit down on her thumb and moved to sit next to Evan when he sat down on the bench in front of the lockers. She moved her free hand to rub up and down Evan's thigh as a calming mechanism while Eddie went to retrieve a medic bag.

He came back in and knelt down in front of them, stethoscope in his ears and a wide, calming smile on his face.

"Hey Birdie, I'm just gonna take a quick look at you, okay?"

"You a fireman?" Birdie nuzzled the left side of her face into Evan's chest and curved both her hands around his left arm that she had cuddled to her front like a teddy.

"I am, I'm a medic too." He pressed the stethoscope against the middle of her chest to listen to her heart before he slipped it between her shoulderblades and listened to her breathing. Her lungs were crackling a little like static on a tv and it wasn't a very good sign. "Do you feel sick, sweetheart?"

Birdie looked up at Evan before she looked back down at Eddie and nodded, grumbling to smother a cough. She burrowed more into Evan and closed her eyes but she quickly opened them when Eddie leaned over and gently lifted up her jumper.

"How long's she had the rash?" His voice made panic bubble up inside Evan while (Y/n) leaned over his shoulder to take a look.

"It wasn't there this morning when I got her dressed." (Y/n) would have noticed a rash. She had bathed Birdie this morning and gotten her dressed and she would have noticed the rash that was spreading across the middle of Birdie's chest and around her sternum.

"This won't hurt, stay still for me." He pressed a thermometer in her ear and when Birdie closed her eyes again, Eddie felt her pulse. "She's lathargic with a high temp and a rash… she could have sepsis. She needs to go to the emergency room, now."

Eddie didn't want to worry either of them but he didn't like the way this looked. Birdie had a temperature, a new rash and as well as feeling sick, she was now looking sluggish and still coughing. If she already had a chest infection, that meant she could be developing sepsis which was serious. She needed to be checked out and put onto high strength antibiotics immediately if she was getting sepsis.

"Go get in the ambulance, I'll tell Bobby what's happening and me and Hen will drive you down."

(Y/n) leaned her head on Evan's shoulder and clenched her hands tightly around her bag on the ride down. She had been in the back of an ambulance more times than she'd like to admit with her heart complications, but she had never had to take Birdie in an ambulance before. The only time she had taken Birdie to the emergency room was when she was two and had fallen and smashed her head on the coffee table before they moved out to LA.

Other than that, Birdie had never had anything serious that needed more than a few trips to the local GP. Being in the back of an ambulance because of her daughter was frightening.

She felt a tiny bit better when Evan kissed the top of her head. He hadn't let go of Birdie. Not once.

He didn't want to sit her on the gurney and panic her so he and (Y/n) sat on the edge of the gurney with Birdie on Evan's lap and Eddie in front of them, keeping a check on her vitals. Hen was driving them down with the lights on but no sirens so they didn't alarm Birdie.

"Alright, let's get you inside."

(Y/n) let Evan gently ease Birdie into her arms and she slung her bag on her shoulder, snuggling her daughter up into her chest to try and keep her settled and as calm as possible. She felt Evan's hands on her hips when they climbed down and Eddie guided them through the paramedic entrance and over to the reception desk.

"I've got a three year old with a high temperature, a rash and an infection that's possibly going septic. What bay do you want her in?" Eddie looked around for bay number three and guided (Y/n) and Evan over to the nurse. "Alright, call if you need anything. Buck, just let me know when you need a ride home." Eddie clapped his hand on Evan's back.

He and Hen would leave them to it and be on standby if they needed anything else and ready for when they needed a ride home. Eddie would guess that Birdie was going to be here for a while at least. But Evan might need a lift back to the station to grab his stuff and his keys so he could pick up some things and come back here.

"Y-you're staying?" (Y/n) turned to look up at Evan with watering eyes that bubbled over when he frowned at her.

Did she really think he was going to leave her here alone? Did she think he was going back to work, not knowing if Birdie was alright or not and knowing (Y/n) was panicking and prone to fainting with an elevated heart rate?

"I'm not leaving you here alone. I cleared it with Bobby, I'm staying."

When (Y/n) leaned her head on his shoulder, Evan wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her into the cubicle as a nurse and a doctor followed after them. He wasn't going anywhere, Evan was staying here with his girls to make sure they were both alright and check that Birdie got checked out.

"Okay, and who do we have here?" The nurse smiled politely when (Y/n) sat Birdie down in the middle of the bed. She kept her hand on her daughter's back when Birdie swayed like she was going to flop back and fall asleep.

She reeled off Birdie's full name and date of birth, glancing at Evan when she noticed his lips twitch up into a little smirk. He found it so strange to hear anyone- let alone (Y/n)- refer to her as Bernadette. That was the name on all her records, but (Y/n) never once called her that. For all intents and purposes, her name was Birdie.

"And I presume you're mum and dad?"

"Yes." (Y/n) spoke before she lost her nerve or Evan tried to fumble through his words. If they said he wasn't, they might not let him stay in the room. And she knew that Birdie was so attached to Evan that she practically thought he was her dad. In almost every way, Evan had become her dad.

And she felt his hand give her hip a comforting squeeze when she answered. He moulded his chest over her back and pressed his lips against the back of her head, feeling like a comforting blanket wrapping around her.

"Is she allergic to anything?" The nurse glanced up from her notes to take a quick look at Birdie with a tender smile.

"Ibruprofen and naproxen… like me." Evan glanced his eyes down to Birdie with a smile when the toddler leaned her head on (Y/n)'s arm and squirmed around.

Surprise flooded (Y/n)'s face and adrenaline bubbled up in her stomach and pushed through to her chest.

Evan remembered.

He remembered (Y/n) telling him the only two things she had found Birdie to be allergic to. When she gave her ibruprofen, Birdie came out in a horrible rash and started to be sick and the doctor confirmed she had a mild allergy. Her allergy to naproxen was a bit more severe and she had only taken that once at hospital and never again.

It had been a surprise when (Y/n) found out Evan had a very bad allergy to the exact same thing. It just seemed to cement things even more that Evan was now a part of their little family.

"Let's take a look at this little lady, shall we?" The doctor turned around and pulled a pair of latex gloves over her hands before she wheeled a stool over and sat down in front of the bed.

Birdie leaned back into (Y/n)'s chest and started to wriggle and whimper. She was tired and felt sick and her chest was hurting. She didn't want to be poked and prodded, she wanted to go home. Her eyes closed tight and she leaned back further until (Y/n) pressed her middle up against Birdie's back to keep her sitting up. And (Y/n) felt Evan lean further into her like they were dominos all lined up together.

The doctor listened to Birdie's heartbeat and then her lungs just like Eddie had done. And (Y/n) leaned down to kiss her head when the doctor took her blood pressure.

Birdie squirmed and whimpered until Evan leaned his arm around (Y/n) and brushed his finger beneath Birdie's chin and across her cheek to try and calm her down. "Good girl," He hummed quietly when she stayed still and let the doctor finish taking a reading.

"When did she get the rash?" The doctor looked over Birdie's chest before she pulled her jumper back down and smiled softly at her.

"Sometime this afternoon, no more than a few hours ago."

"Okay, I'd like to take some blood then start her on a round of antibiotics immediately. I'd say she does have sepsis."

A shiver coursed down (Y/n)'s spine and she sighed, tilting her head into Evan's neck. She knew what that meant. Birdie was seriously unwell. Sepsis was the body's way of getting confused and attacking healthy tissue instead of fighting the infection. She needed to get antibiotics and clear the infection quick so her body could calm down and stop attacking her healthy cells.

Reaching down, (Y/n) scooped Birdie up and moved round to sit on the bed herself. She sat Birdie down on her lap and snuggled her close to try and keep her calm. She wouldn't be very pleased when she saw them trying to take her blood.

Evan crouched down at the side of the bed and smiled calmly, taking Birdie's hand in his while the doctor gently held out her other arm and rolled up her sleeve.

"I don't wanna-"

"It won't take long, little bird. You're my partner at the station, aren't you? Close your eyes, then we can tell Bobby how brave you are." Evan smoothed his thumb over the back of Birdie's hand and swiped his other hand across her eyes until she closed them.

He hated to see her sat shaking on (Y/n)'s lap, anticipating the pain she was going to feel and she jumped when the numbing spray and cotton swab swiped across her elbow. The moment the needle slipped into the crease of her elbow, she let out a low, broken whine that ended in a grumbling cry.

She began to tremble and smothered her face into (Y/n)'s chest while Evan rubbed the back of her hand and quietly hushed and praised her.

"All done, it's all done baby." (Y/n) hushed as she swayed Birdie from side to side once the needle and vile were removed and a wad of cotton was taped across her elbow. She bounced her knees up and down to try and soothe Birdie. All the way here (Y/n) had watched Eddie try and keep Birdie awake and stop her from falling asleep in case she went unconscious and her state worsened.

But now it would be better if she went to sleep. She had been assessed and if she dozed off, they could give her the antibiotics easier than her fighting and getting distressed like this.

She hated to have her little girl whimpering and bubbling into her shirt and clinging to her like she thought she was never going to see her again.

The doctor came back into the room with an IV of antibiotics and fluids, a tube and a needle and it made (Y/n) wince. Birdie had never had to have a canula in before.

"Once we get her on these, I can sort out getting her admitted into the children's ward."

The moment Birdie lifted her head from (Y/n)'s chest, she started to scream. As much as she could with her burning, wheezing chest, Birdie cried and gasped and screamed until her cheeks puffed out and tears were streaming down her face.

"Baby it's okay-" (Y/n) tilted her head back, willing the tears away when Birdie continued to thrash and cry in her arms. She had found some energy from somewhere. The needle had spooked her. She didn't want another one. She didn't know or care what it was for. Birdie didn't want it.

"No!"

"Birdie I promise it won't hurt-" The doctor frowned and looked up sadly at (Y/n) when Birdie thrashed again, but her next words stunned (Y/n).

"I want daddy!"

She had never said that before.

(Y/n) had been a single mother since the moment she found out she was pregnant. Birdie had never had a father figure in her life. She grew up with (Y/n) and that was it, her sole parent and dependency was on (Y/n). She never asked about a father or why the other kids she knew had dads but she didn't. She never asked about having a dad or why she only had a mum.

But now she had Evan. He was the closest thing to a father figure that Birdie had in her life and she had fallen in love with the idea of him being her dad and being in her life.

(Y/n) looked down at Evan, but the stunned expression she had was mirrored on his face.

He was now stood up beside the bed, hands frozen at his sides as he stared down at the little girl who had captured his heart. His jaw moved and scraped from side to side but he didn't say anything for a second or two. (Y/n) wondered if it was too soon, if Evan wasn't ready for that name and the responsibility that came along with it.

But within a second, he moved. Evan leaned down, his eyes locked with (Y/n)'s, silently asking if it was alright when he reached his hands out towards Birdie.

(Y/n) passed her over without complaint and watched the way Birdie stopped wriggling instantly. She stopped thrashing and kicking and screaming once Evan picked her up. He looped an arm beneath her legs and his other hand rubbed across her back in circles while Birdie looped her arms around his neck so tightly he could barely breathe.

When her face tucked into the crook of his neck, Evan leaned his cheek on top of her head and started to gently rock her up and down.

"It's okay, baby bird. I'm here." He soothed quietly as he kissed her cheek and looked over at the doctor. He silently ticked his head to the side and turned around so he was facing (Y/n) with the doctor behind him. Evan knew Birdie had her eyes closed and her face hidden in his neck and with her arms around his neck, the doctor could stand behind him and quickly sort the IV before she had chance to fight them.

Evan started to hum and tried not to move Birdie too much when he felt the doctor behind him. He stood in between (Y/n)'s thighs and smiled softly when (Y/n) looped her arms low around his hips and pressed her face into his stomach.

A low whine croaked past Birdie's lips when the needle inserted into the back of her hand but she didn't move or pull away.

"You're okay, I've got you."

They both heard the doctor whisper "All sorted," and she patted Evan's shoulder before she left the room to go and get everything sorted. She wanted them on the ward as soon as possible to get Birdie monitored and make sure she didn't get any worse.

When she left the room, (Y/n) slowly stood up, pinned between Evan and the bed pressing into the back of her knees. She looked up at Evan, curving one arm around his waist and her other hand moved to card through Birdie's hair softly.

Evan started to sway from side to side again and kept moving Birdie up and down in his arms. But a quizzical look took over his face when he noticed the tender smile on (Y/n)'s face.

"She's fallen asleep." (Y/n) whispered. That was the quickest (Y/n) had ever known her daughter fall asleep and she was beginning to drool onto Evan's shoulder. Evan didn't realise her arms had gone slack around his neck or that she had stopped whimpering into his neck and changed instead to quiet snuffles and groggy, hitched breaths.

"You uh… you don't mind, what she said?"

"I don't mind my daughter loving you almost as much as I do." (Y/n)'s voice was barely more than a whisper on the wind but they sounded like the loudest, most beautiful thing Evan had ever heard.

He leaned down and stole a kiss from her lips, removing his hand from Birdie's back to wrap it around (Y/n)'s waist instead and reel her as close as he could get her. He could feel her smiling against his lips and he grazed his teeth across her lower lip.

Out of all the nicknames and things Evan had been called over the years, this was definitely the best one he'd ever had.

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #imagine #911 imagine #buck imagine #bobby nash

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watchmegetobsessed · 10 months

Text

MISTLETOE

A/N: oh my god??? im actually posting something??? wow!!! okay joke aside lol its been ages since i last poste anything and im not saying im back, but i've been trying to write here and there so hopefully i will be back soon. until then, here is this little something i manage to finish last month!

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: Everyone knows Harry is crushing on Y/N, but he hasn't made any major moves. Maybe tonight, when they find themselves under the mistletoe...

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“So Styles, are you gonna man up and ask her out finally, or be a baby?” Niall laughs, bumping his shoulder against Harry’s as they are approaching the pub they spend almost every Friday night at.

“Shut up,” he groans, but it’s impossible to miss the blush on his cheeks. Niall didn’t even drop a name, but they both knew who he was talking about.

It’s kind of an open secret that Harry has been very into Y/N. Well, all the boys know at least and they very much enjoy teasing him about it. Or maybe not about the crush, but about how long he’s been into her and he still hasn’t made any major moves. The past couple of weeks it’s been even more intense, because it seems like Y/N has been very much open towards Harry and his interest in her, but he’s been clearly waiting for him to make a move.

As the boys arrive at the pub it’s just as buzzing as always even despite the painfully cold weather that’s been keeping everyone on campus wrapped up in their warmest clothes. A few days ago it was even snowing for a bit, though there’s nothing left from the whiteness by now.

Harry sighs happily as the warmth of the crowd inside hugs him in an instant. The bunch that’s already there, including Y/N, is sitting in the back at a table they often sit by, it’s kind of their spot at this point.

He spots her in an instant and his cheeks warm up, but this time it’s not because of the temperature inside the pub. He saw her just the other day at lunch, but he can always feel his heart skipping a beat as if she was coming back from a months long trip.

“You’re being obvious,” Niall bumps his shoulder against his, grinning at his friend, but Harry just rolls his eyes again as they make their way over to the table.

With only two weeks until winter break the place is decorated, there are garlands running along the walls and pipes, ornaments hanging from the corners of the framed photos, there’s a tiny christmas tree on top of the bar and if you’re not paying attention you can end up standing underneath a mistletoe here and there as well.

“Hey! Thought you guys weren’t even gonna make it!” Jackie exclaims as she stands from the table, hugging the boys one by one. She is practically the person who brought the group together, everyone in the gang either had a lecture together with her, went to practice with her or shared a room with her. The latter is how Y/N got to meet the boys, including Harry. Though the two girls are not roommates anymore, they are still very close.

Just as Harry wraps his arms around Jackie his eyes meet Y/N’s over her shoulder and his ming blanks for a moment. With her shy smile, simple yet flattering outfit and vibrant aura she is definitely the one who steals the show, at least in Harry’s mind.

“Hi,” he breathes out when they are finally facing each other and she gifts him with the brightest smile as she lifts her arms to wrap them around his neck.

“Hi,” she giggles, her front pressing against his and he holds her just a bit tighter and longer than anyone else. Which she seemingly doesn’t mind.

Of course they end up sitting next to each other. It’s no surprise to anyone. Niall is sitting across Harry and every time Harry looks his way he gives him a nudging, teasing look that screams “come on, make a move” which Harry tries to ignore as much as possible, though Niall tends to be a bit much at times.

“What are your plans for the break?” Y/N asks him, the two of them have kind of tuned out of the conversation that’s happening around the table.

“Just going home, spending time with my family. My mum is very excited,” he chuckles softly. “What about you?”

“Pretty much the same,” she smiles. “I’m pretty sure my mum has already started cooking.”

They talk about family traditions, gifting and funny stories from past holidays, completely forgetting about the rest of the group for a while. When their glasses empty out they head over to the bar for a refill, sticking to each other’s side still.

When Y/N tries to pay for her drink Harry steps in, earning a knowing look from the bartender.

“What a gentleman,” he murmurs under his breath with a smirk, pushing the two beers towards them. Harry’s ears turn red, while Y/N just nods in agreement.

A guy hurries past them, pushing Y/N slightly against Harry whose hand moves to her waist out of instinct to steady her. The moment gets lost in the crowd to everyone else, but not to them. Harry’s whole body flames, the closeness of her feels exciting and calming at the same time and he doesn’t know, but she shares the same feeling.

“You alright?” he manages to ask her, their faces way closer than ever before. She peeks up at him with a short nod.

“Yeah, thanks.”

It feels like a moment that would be perfect to finally make a move. Harry knows and as he is looking at her he also knows that she wouldn’t reject him, yet he still can’t get himself to take that step and cross the line he’s been dancing on for so long.

The seconds pass by and the moment fades as well, disappointment bubbling in her gut as she moves back from him, his hand falling off her waist and he is already regretting being such a coward.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself as Y/N starts to move ahead of him, back to the table and he follows her feeling like the biggest loser ever.

Why is he so afraid of making a move? She’s all he’s been thinking about, they get along so well and everyone’s been telling him she wants him too. But still, that awful voice in the back of his head keeps reminding him there’s a chance she rejects him and everything would be ruined after that.

Defeated, they join the rest of the table again and they both can feel a wall sitting right between them. Harry keeps replaying the moment in his head, he thinks of everything he could have done not to mess up his chance, wishing he could go back in time and man up finally.

Soon enough the group moves to the darts boards as Niall and Liam start a match, the rest enjoying the show because Niall is known to be quite competitive in any and all sports.

Harry is standing by Y/N again, but there’s tension between them obviously and his mind is racing to find a way to ease the situation. Should he ask her to talk? Pretend like nothing happened? Or what if he just swung an arm around her right now? What if–

“Oh! You two!” Niall snaps him out of his thoughts, pointing at him and Y/N. “You’re standing under the mistletoe!”

They look up at the same time, checking that he did not lie, there really is a mistletoe hanging above them. Their gazes meet and the moment is back. Y/N is looking at him with hope tinkering in her eyes and Harry knows he can’t mess it up this time, but he needs just a few seconds to build up the courage, this is a big step and he…

He is taking too long. He sees the moment when Y/N is letting go and panic sets in, screaming at him to do something and then… he finally does. Just when Y/N turns her face in defeat he gently cups her cheek, turning it back and she sucks on her breath before he finally presses his lips to hers.

A lot happens around them, there’s whistling and clapping and Niall shouts something but it all tunes out to Harry, she is all he can sense. Her arms are quick to snake around his neck and his hands find their way to her waist, pulling her tight into his embrace, hoping he never has to let go of her.

All his fantasies about what kissing her would feel like vanish and he swears it’s all he has ever known, the touch of her soft lips, the way her tongue swirls against his, the warmth of her body pressed against his.

Their mistletoe kiss stretches long and neither of them really wants to end it, but reality pushes its way back into their bubble and the noise pops it. Pulling apart they stare at each other for a while before Y/N’s lips slowly break into a smile that Harry feels like wants to own forever. He can’t bear the thought of anyone else being the reason she smiles this way.

“Harry Styles finally grew some balls!” Niall shouts, completely stomping over the moment they just shared as they turn back to face their friends, arms still around each other.

“A Christmas miracle!” Jackie joins in on the teasing.

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Harry groans, not quite enjoying being in the center of attention.

Y/N’s arms have moved to circle around his abdomen and she gently squeezes him, grabbing his attention. The moment he looks at her smiling face he forgets about everything that’s making him uncomfortable.

Leaning down he presses a short, lingering kiss to her lips, replacing every word he ever wanted to tell her and she understands it all, happy to be finally speaking the same language.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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hsakuras · 1 year

Text

𝑮𝑨𝒁𝑬 | 𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑨

warnings: dubcon, stalking, yandere childe, alcohol consumption, facial, blow job, fem reader, degradation, cum eating(?), snowballing, breath play

wc: 4.1k

a/n: im baaaaack, also this is for @jozhenji ily bitch mwah

You hate Snezhnaya.

The cold that bites at your cheeks, the way your bones ache if you stand outside too long, and how blinding the snow can be on the days where the sun is the brightest. You hate holding onto candle light to maneuver your way down the hallway of your house, only to hear talk of the Fatui growing in size and manipulating more people into joining under the harbingers from the neighbors that stop by to chat in front of your door late at night.

“They each have their own agenda.” One of them says, as if that’s supposed to justify their actions, like they’re not all connected in some way.

“Did you hear Ajax got into another fight?”

“Again?”

You hate him. Ajax. You hate how he always needs to be the center of attention.

You hate his laughter, his gaze, the way he starts fight after fight and how he doesn’t care if his father cries or threatens to send him to the military. You hate how he knows so much, how he thrives off of the adrenaline that runs through his veins when he knows he’s won, when he can taste it, feel it in his hands and configure it so that it adds fuel to the fire burning brightest in his chest. It’s the one of the only times his smile reaches his eyes.

You hate that it’s the same smile when he looks at you. When he thinks that he can barge in on your walks to get firewood, or when he finds one of your siblings and walks them home. He only wanted to make sure they would get home safe, he swears.

If Ajax could put his pride on a pedestal, he would. He would bellow in letting people watch as it grows and swallows everything in its path to take up more space, thriving on the marvel painted on people’s faces who pass, who watch as he leaves the small village of your hometown to join the Fatui. It shouldn’t have come as a shock when he was recognized because of his ability to fight.

You think about the time that he went missing for three days causing a search party that grew so rapidly in size because his father is a respectable man, it hurt to see how little he slept. It hurt your community to see him attempt to console his other children.

It hurt even more when you were the one Ajax showed up in front of first.

You were looking out to the horizon, the firewood that had been collected by your side, stopping to enjoy the hot stew you had prepared for your siblings in the thermos that had been carefully wrapped to protect it from the bitter temperatures. It wasn’t exactly as hot as you expected but you welcomed the few seconds of warmth brought to your lips. It’s comforting and while looking out to the horizon, you make a silent promise to yourself to move to a nation that is always sunny, where the winds are warm, and the waters are blue. Something that would help your soul feel weightless in contrast to your current surroundings.

When the forest is covered in snow you can hear everything, the branches that fall under the weight of the ice, the crunching of footsteps when someone passes by, and even the curses of the men who were fetching more wood for their wives; tired, exhausted, and numb.

That day he came back, you didn’t expect to hear him, much less see him.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” You knew his voice, whipping your head around so fast because you never heard his footsteps approaching. His nose was bleeding, staining his mouth and shirt. “It’s nothing compared to you.” He smiled after wiping the blood off his nose and mouth with his sleeve, watching you in awe of how relieved you must have been when he showed himself to you.

He stumbles forward a little, laughs, “Hey, I lov-I’ve loved you from the moment we met.”

You’re the last thing he sees before he blacks out.

Years have passed since then. You watch when Teucer and Tonia come running by with their new toys, how much easier it gets for his father to take care of himself when he’s promised that Ajax is okay and the financial hardship doesn’t consume his very being. It’s hard not to smile when Teucer looks up at you with a toothy grin, begging you to play with him again.

You’ve never been able to tell him no, even though he has the same eyes as his older brother.

You feel uneasy when Pulcinella knocks at your door one evening.

It’s routine for him to visit Ajax’s home, he is the one who offered him the position in the Fatui, you knew he had good combat skills but never would have guessed it was enough for him to be recognized as one of the harbingers. His name is no longer familiar, replaced with Tartaglia. He erases the name given to him, fully accepting his role.

You open your door for him, it would be rude not to answer when the mayor comes to your door.

He smiles gently at you, it does nothing to relieve your nerves, makes goosebumps run down your spine and you will yourself to meet his gaze and return a smile that you would never call your own.

“For you.”

You let him place the box in your hand, it's rectangular, flat, and wrapped beautifully. It makes your stomach drop when his hand touches yours, you can feel a letter slip in between your hand and his, it reminds you of when your grandmother would place chocolates in your hand when you were a child.

“Thank you.” You mumble, mouth dry and lips chapped from the unexpected visit. He nods, leaving you and waving goodbye at Ajax’s family.

You set the box down next to the fireplace, you can hear the crackles from the wood engulfed in flames, it makes you feel less lonely at night. Now that your siblings have gone and left, you’re left to take care of the house your parents had left behind.

You carefully unwrap the bow that sits on top, folding it neatly beside you. Your palms are sweaty when you peel back the wrapping paper. The outside is revealed with the name of an expensive boutique known for the intricate patterns of beautifully displayed lingerie.

You stare at it in disbelief, the measurements are your size down to the millimeter, you feel like screaming. Like locking yourself in your home, blocking out the windows and doors so that no one, no one else could ever invade your privacy the way that he has.

The black lace is decorated with hints of glitter and the satin lines it feels so, so fine. If it were from anyone else you would be enamored, delighted to wear this for someone that you held feelings for, but the only thing you feel is fear.

You remember the letter that was placed in your hands.

You wish you hadn’t opened it. He only speaks of the past, how he never got to tell you how grateful and happy he was to see you after he had been missing for so long.

When you returned home with Ajax, he was different, asking how many days have passed to everyone that came to visit him during his recovery, contemplating how time passes differently where he was in. When you would see him, you had reassured him over and over that it was three days, though he argued it had been three months. He used to make you retell the story again, and again, and again going over the most miniscule details until you were in tears telling him that it’s all you can remember.

You throw the box and letter into the fire, watching the flames consume it all. You spend the remainder of the night fitting whatever parts of your life that you could in a suitcase.

You leave the next morning.

Your life in Fontaine is calmer than back home, you’re near the ocean and you bask in the warm windy hills during the day or dive into the ocean once you’ve finished your work at the small little dress boutique in the middle of the city.

Your boss teases you about one of the Gardes that have caught your attention when he patrols, you even sparked up a conversation about your favorite flowers you’ve encountered in Fontaine.

“Romaritime flowers!” you exclaim, “They’re beautiful. They look so pure in and out of the water.”

He places one in your hands the next time you meet, promising to take you on a proper date when he finishes patrol.

You assume the bouquet of them at your front door was from him, assume that you would see him that night when you closed the boutique and assume that he would ask where you would like to go next.

You spent that morning getting ready for work. Donning one of your favorite dresses, it compliments you well enough to make you stand out, but still allows you to work comfortably. It’s something your boss had given to you when you first arrived in Fontaine, the excuse was that you also needed something when you would go out. How else would you fit in?

You cried at her kindness, something you had not encountered in years.

You finish work that night, assuring your boss that you would close up. She gives you a hug, tells you that she wants to hear all about it when you come back after your day off.

The clouds start to darken when she leaves. You hope it’s only temporary.

You imagine this is what heartbreak feels like.

To trust someone with your feelings so easily only to be faced with the hard realization that they didn’t seem to care about that trust to begin with. The rain, which you hoped was short lived, only rubs salt in the wound. It’s pouring, your shoes are in your hands and your dress is stuck to your body. You waited for two hours after the boutique closed for him to come by, you waited another hour after his patrol ended. You finally left after ten more minutes, when a young woman knew the look on your face and offered you her umbrella. You politely declined, assured her that you would be okay.

In the end you’re left disappointed, cold, and wet. It reminds you of the numerous times you would come home from the harsh snowfall in Snezhnaya, greeted with silence when you stepped foot into your house shivering and attempting to start a fire. You hated it.

You ignore the stares from couples strolling the night, instead focusing on the cool pavement beneath your bare feet, how the rain feels somewhat cooling to your face and how you can hide your tears.

It’s better this way, to only rely on yourself. You’re all you have after all.

When you return home, you toss your shoes outside to dry. Slamming the door behind you and begin struggling to peel off your dress because the fabric is soaking wet and it’s stubbornly sticking to your skin. You curse when it doesn’t come off, panting and pulling it over your head, you step on something sharp, cursing again when you finally throw your dress off and the tears threaten to spill. You curse and throw the dress into the corner of your living room.

You’re left cold, shivering, and only in your bra and panties when you look at the blood from your foot. You begin to cry.

Your gaze then follows the trail of broken glass on your floor, the pool of water leading up to the broken vase of the Romaritime flowers.

“Do you let others stare at you like this?”

Your blood runs cold. You remember the same feeling back when he found you staring out into the horizon all those years ago.

He places a hand over your mouth, holds you flush against his chest when he sneaks up from behind you. “Shh, s’kay.”

You can’t scream, you squirm in his hold, kicking and clawing at his arm holding your face. He thinks it would be fun to allow you to think he’s off balance.

You shift all your weight onto him, hoping that in the fall you’ll have enough time to run, to hide, to fight. You could run to your neighbor’s house, the nice little old couple that lives behind you and hide in their garden until you’re safe. You wish you were safe, you wish you were home sooner. Oh fuck, if only you hadn’t waited for so long into the night.

He grabs your wrist before you’re able to move, bringing you back to him. You force yourself to find strength to move, to be able to turn around and face him. He anticipates this, he spins you around like a dancing couple would.

He laughs once and you stop.

You no longer want to look, you can only see the boy who was missing smiling and complimenting you with blood running down his nose, you remember the lingerie he sent when you were still in the village, how your stomach dropped when the mayor knocked at your door.

Nothing compares to this, to the goosebumps littering your skin when he peers down at you, blue eyes that don’t ever leave your gaze and make you feel like you’re drowning in the sea waters that surround Fontaine.

“I was waiting for you” he whispers, peppering your face with kisses while you stand there, frozen. It’s similar to the time when he collapsed in front of you, only this time you can’t find the words to scream.

It’s funny how this time he’s found you. Your poor attempt at hiding from him is amusing.

“Missed you so much” he continues to kiss you, makes his way down to your collarbones and doesn’t hesitate to get on his knees to kiss the softness of your stomach or the tops of your breasts that are exposed to him.

“Should have locked you up you know? You ran from me, took me forever to find you.”

“Ajax” you whisper, the tears that sting your eyes are threatening to spill. “Why are you here?”

You hold in a sob, you know why. You’ve always known why he was enamored by you.

“Does it matter?” he breathes, shifting his position so he is behind you again, kissing the tears off the side of your face, watching how your breathing shifts when his cold hands touch the bare skin exposed to him.

“Had to pay that Garde off really well. He wasn’t cheap, you know?”

Your heart breaks further, the sob you were holding building into your throat. “You’re so worth it though, pretty little thing. Look at how I found you, fuck, you missed me too didn’t you?”

He’s guiding you to your couch, laying you down while he towers over you. You feel nauseous when you feel his hardening cock through his pants, “look at you, look at you!” He laughs again, another bout of tears flowing down your cheeks, hot and heavy.

He leans down to kiss you, you turn your head but Ajax isn’t opposed to using force to get what he wants, you know this. You’ve always known this. He takes your face into his hands again, squishing your cheeks together like he did before except his gaze is demanding, icy, and bitter.

“Kiss me back”

You oblige, letting him press his lips against yours and slipping his tongue into your mouth. You flinch at the roll of his lips, clutching at his shirt when he groans into your mouth. He mistakes this as want, giving you more until you’re consumed by him, his presence, his scent, his touch.

He breaks away to let you breathe, smiles at the string of spit that connects both of you and how your eyes are hazing, even though he can’t tell if it’s from crying or from how dizzy he’s made you when he kissed you.

“Let’s celebrate” He’s off of you before you can register what he said, grabbing a bottle of one of Mondstat’s best wines. He’s unceremonious, rogue even, when he pops the cork off and takes a drink straight from the bottle before dipping back down to kiss you.

He didn’t swallow much to your surprise, he let the wine pass from his mouth to yours. Pulling away to watch your face scrunch up at the taste, “s’good” he slurs, taking another drink and swallowing this time.

“Here.” He’s pulling you to sit up, he’s so fast it’s hard to follow what he’s thinking, what he’s doing. He’s taking another drink again, it’s smaller this time, more like a sip that he thinks is adequate for you.

He doesn’t let you pull back, his hand is on the nape of your neck making sure you can’t escape his intensity. You try to keep up, letting his tongue enter your mouth and swirl with his. It’s so sloppy, so hot, and sticky that it makes your head spin. He only gives you a break to drink more wine, to make you both drink more.

He keeps giving you more and more, loves when you get weaker and you don’t protest as much anymore. When you whine and start anticipating the alcohol from his mouth to yours, it makes the taste more bearable and your thoughts aren’t as loud in your head.

The wine keeps spilling from the corners of your mouth, leaving a little trail of purple-red for him to lick up to. He’s sucking at the skin of your neck, finding your pulse point so easily. His teeth nip at your skin, you don’t mean to lean into him, the alcohol is making you slow to react. He swears he hears a small moan escape your lips when he nips at the sensitive skin again.

His hand slides down your chest, feeling your tits through the fabric of your bra, it’s still wet.

“Ajax” you slur, “wanna wait” you say. He looks at you, he notices the tears again. You feel them spill, you’re cold. You cling onto him because at least he’s offering you that sliver of comfort.

“Wait?” He repeats, licking a tear off of your cheek.

“Why would I wait when I know you want me too?” He whispers in your ear, his hands unclasping your bra in one go. His touch is cold, similar to how it feels when you first go into the sea. Your body has to get use to it, it starts to warm up and you feel like you could swim and float for hours.

It’s the same with his touch, the cool tips of his fingers warm up the more he squeezes. He likes the sound you make when he pinches at your nipples, he takes one into his mouth, sucking and licking. Groaning when he hears the little whimpers you try to hold back.

He makes his way back up to your lips again, grabs your hands that are clutching at his sides to guide them down to palm the shape of his cock through his pants.

He’s dreamt of this for so long.

“Oh fuck” he pants, his breath hitting your lips before he’s kissing you again, his tongue feels like he’s lapping into your mouth getting as sloppy as possible as if you’re going to vanish again. His tongue rolls over yours until he’s aching, cock throbbing for attention.

“Hey, feel me here.” He pants, eyes red rimmed and the blue of his irises brighter. You feel like you could drown in them.

He takes your hand and holds it in his, tossing his vision on your table. He’s undoing his belt & pulling his pants down enough for his cock to spring free.

He wraps your hand around the base, guides you in how fast and how much pressure to place around him, when he lets go of your hand you can feel him looking at you. You’re focused on the length of him, how heavy and hot he feels against your hand.

You feel like crying again. You oblige him because at least he’ll leave you alone sooner, you’re just another thing for him to win over, to declare victory before he gets bored with you and moves on to this next challenge.

“More fuck, please more” he pants, hips stuttering into your hand. You can feel the sticky, hot precum that coats the tip of his dick and now your hand. You look up at him and see that he’s got his head tipped back, moaning about how hot you are, how good you are, how he’s thought about this since you saved him. Since you found him, how he’s been in love with you since he found you looking out into the horizon. Even before, he’s been in love with you since the beginning, since he saw you.

“You owe me this.” he breathes.

“What?”

He laughs again, the same one that haunts you.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know. I had you watched wherever you went, I made sure your siblings got into the school they wanted, fuck I even followed you here.”

He takes your hand in his, knows that your hand is coated in his pre cum, takes one of your fingers and licks it up the length. His eyes ever leave yours as he does.

“You should thank me.” He deadpans, cock still throbbing and hard when he stands up at full height.

“Thank me.” He repeats the length of his dick is on your face, rutting against your cheek until the tip meets your lips.

“Yeah, that's how you should do it.” He smiles, the one that meets his eyes. The genuine one.

He’s holding on to the back of your head before you can move. He doesn’t care if your hair is messy, it's almost dry now. He takes your hand again, planting it onto his thigh for leverage.

His grip returns to the base of his cock, tapping the tip on your lips again.

You don’t open your mouth, new tears building up in your waterline. He shows no remorse for what he’s doing, no concern, he thinks he deserves this. It’s the least he deserves for what he’s done for you.

He pinches your nose, catching you when you part your lips to shove his length into your mouth.

You cry, struggling to breathe at the pace he starts at.

“Woulda been so gentle to you if you would have been good, fuck.”

He seethes, eyes rolling into the back of his head when both of his hands are holding your head to match his hips. Your nails are digging into his thighs, your strength unmatched for how you try to push yourself off of him as he pulls you forward on his length. He can’t handle the hot, wet, tightness of the back of your throat.

“Fuck yes, more, more, more” he chants, pinching your nose again to see you panic when you look up again, he loves you like this. When your chin is covered in spit and tears and his balls hit you with every rut of his hips.

“God, gonna paint your fucking face, slut. Gonna cover you in my cum so you can never forget who you belong to”

You can feel that he’s getting close, he grants you grace for only one second before he’s holding your jaw in his hand again.

You take in gulps of air, coughing, and crying while he forces you to look at him.

“Don’t run from me again.” He seethes, forcing you back down on his length.

He’s ruthless this time, uncaring for the way your eyes can’t focus, or how you look like you’re going to pass out. You’re vision keeps going in and out, you can hear yourself. How you choke and gag around his length how he curses with each “ack. ack. ack” of his dick hitting the back of your throat.

“Gonna cum—shit”

He pulls you off, using one of his hands to keep you in place while he jacks himself off with the other.

“Say it, say who you belong to.”

You can’t understand, hazy vision threatening to go black.

“Fuck, say it and I’ll cum. I’ll cover your fucking face and never leave you. You understand? You’re mine. “

You don’t know what he’s rambling on about. You want to plead with him, talk this out and let him know he could pursue someone else.

“Ajax” you rasp.

“Yeah? You belong to me don’t you? Oh fuck—“

He groans, doesn’t hold his voice back, calling you all sorts of names but mostly that you’re his, his, his.

His cum on your face should be enough to prove it. He looks at you like a masterpiece, taking his finger and dragging it through his cum and putting it into his mouth before kissing you.

“Don’t let anyone else see you like this.”

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leonw4nter · 6 months

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Hi! I love your works sm and have a silly little idea.. Maybe planning and having a wedding with leon? Like im seeing you in your dress for the first time, choosing flowers, the rings, and having all of your friends/family at your wedding etc? Just little headcannons about it would be super cute!!!

DI!Leon Headcanons on planning + having a wedding…

RE:DI!Leon x F!Reader

Leon was supposed to propose to you during an out-of-the-country trip to Switzerland but unfortunately, he left the ring behind and had to secretly beat himself up over it. One beautiful evening, after you and him had just gotten home from the orchestra, he fished the tiny velvet box from his pocket and got down on one knee, too overcome by nerves to remember the speech he swore he memorized and too much in love to stall the question.

“You’re the last person I’d want to lose and the first person I’d think of growing old with. Y/N, will you marry me?”. In the end, he got the most unforgettable ‘yes’ he’s ever heard from you.

The wedding planning took 12 months, enough time to plan the wedding straight out of your dreams. He made sure to make the occasion magical, ensuring that the wedding is fit for a goddess amongst women (in his humble opinion). The wedding rings you and Leon agreed on were perfect, eager for the day that you two will finally have them on forever and ever, the rings facing wear and tears as you go gray and feeble with him.

Everyone saw your wedding dress before your wedding day– everyone but Leon. As soon as the large doors opened up and revealed you, Leon could no longer stop the tears flowing down his cheeks– you were so beautiful and breathtaking and it was as if veiled light itself was walking down the aisle. He was unable to keep his gaze to the front, head tilting to admire you every second. “You look so beautiful,” he excitedly whispered. “I can’t believe I’m marrying you.”

Since you and him agreed on a wedding color scheme of black, different shades of pink, and varying shades of warm white, the flowers you had for your bridal bouquet also followed that scheme, the flowers being cashmere anemones; white and baby pink tulips; vanda orchids; white limonium flowers, and white mink proteas. Everyone else also wore their dresses and suits in pinks and black; Chris opted for a sleek black turtleneck and blazer with a pink flower pinned to his breast pocket. Most of the women in attendance at your wedding opted to wear pink, with the men opting for black. Everyone was buzzing with excitement in their placements: Rebecca and Claire making joking bets that whoever cries first will pay up; Jill and Hunnigan were talking about how pretty you will look; Ethan and Chris were hyping Leon up since the groom was nervous but nevertheless excited; Piers and Carlos were talking about how good everything looks and how magical the air feels.

When the priest said “you may now kiss the bride”, Leon took a small step closer to you, gently lifting the veil that covered your face. He did everything slowly, as if he wanted to savor the moment and commit every single detail– the sparkle in your eyes, the music in the background, and how everyone and everything else seemed to be a blur of colors except for the glowing bride in front of him. As soon as he removed the veil from your face, he took a few moments to admire you and pepper you with sincere compliments. He placed his left hand on your waist while his right gently cupped your cheek, big hands handling you with so much caution as if you were made of porcelain. He leans in and presses the gentlest, softest, most tender kiss ever, a small spreading on his lips when it really sinks in that he finally gets to call you his wife.

You and Leon had your first dance somewhere private since you wanted it to be a moment only you and him will share so after the first dance, you and him walk back to the reception hand-in-hand with the brightest smiles. The ring looked amazing on both your hands and Leon couldn’t stop to admire your hand. “You’ve got a ring like mine too, you know,” you’d softly tell him. “I know. It looks better with you though,” he’d respond sweetly before kissing the back of your hand. For the bouquet toss, you decided to use an exact replica of your bouquet since you wanted to keep your flowers in your own home; Rebecca ended up catching your bouquet, much to everyone’s surprise. She happily swung it around, showing it off to everyone, before walking with a happy sway of her hips towards her boyfriend Billy, which made Billy chuckle before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

You and Leon left early, waving everyone good night and good bye as you got in the bridal car that would take you to the hotel you were going to stay in. Since Chris was sober and had already volunteered to drive you to the hotel, he also left the party early. As soon as you two were out of the reception, it was immediately all kisses and giggles and I love yous muttered. Chris had to look you two through the rear-view mirror and say “I’m still here. You’ve got a room for all that when we get there.”

Married life won’t be all smooth sailing and conflicts are unavoidable but in facing and resolving those conflicts together, you will discover just how strong your commitment to each other is.

NOTE - TYSMM to the anon that requested this, I know I took long before I finally got to answer it but I hope it was worth the wait (despite this drabble being shorter than usual) <33 Currently craving ramyeon and mushrooms and seafood... naw but eating noodles late at night?? TOP TIER EXPERIENCE. Kinda stressing rn since one of my groupmates can't do their part on our research paper and it's getting on my last nerve BECAUSE I GAVE US SO MUCH TIME GIRLIE PLEASE 😭😭🙏🙏 Anyways, let's hope that I passed my entrance exams and the exams I took last week bc my grades cannot take another beating 🕯️TYSM for reading my fics, I <33333 UUUUUU !!!!!!!!

The hanging star divider is made by @benkeibear , the images are colored by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#fluff #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy fluff #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #rebhfun #biohazard #death island leon #resident evil death island #resident evil x reader

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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 year

Note

Hiii!!! I recently discovered your work and I love the way you write! I was wondering if I could request an angst to comfort/fluff with Hobie Brown with a “dumb” reader? Like he’s explaining the most simplest thing and she’s still not getting it and he kinda gets frustrated.

I personally get called “slow” or “not the brightest” and I have to laugh it off but it hurts.So i would like this a lot. But If not you can ignore this!! Hope you have a great rest of your day!🩷

as someone who’s been made fun of their whole life for being “slow” and dumb I get it sm, you’re not dumb you just don’t catch on as quickly, and that’s okay because everyone learns at different paces (:

I feel like Mac Demarco fits comfort/fluff so..

Even if..

“I still don’t get it..” you mumbled, looking at the whole thing he drew out for you.

Hobie sighed. He was trying to explain how to fix your watch, since it broke in battle and Miguel was already pissed enough as is.

“Just give me it.” He took the parts, you could feel his frustration. He put it back together quickly and easily, handing it to you.

“Thank you.” You whispered, putting it on and the looking at the ground.

“Mhm.”

“Sorry… I jus’ don’t get it..”

“It’s whatever, alright? You’re not the brightest, but that’s alright.” He didn’t think about what he said, and he didn’t see it as offensive to you.

You looked up when he said that, taking in his words.

You didn’t say anything, you stood up and went to the bathroom. He just waited and messed with his watch until he heard a noise come from the bathroom.

He stood up fast, knocking on the door.

“You alright in there?” He asked, he heard you try to cover your cries and sniffles.

“I’m fine.” You said. He shook his head. “I’m comin’ in.”

He opened the door to you on the floor, he went on the side of you, holding you and patting your back.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, genuinely not knowing what happened.

“I jus’… earlier.. when you said ‘you’re not the brightest’ it reminded me of some things that people used to say..”

“Oh…” he felt horrible now.

“Im sorry. I didn’t realize that I was bein’ rude, that was stupid of me.” He rubbed your back and out his arm around your shoulder, holding you tight.

“It’s not you-“

“It is though. You’re brilliant in other ways. Like you’re probably one of the best fighters I’ve seen. And you’re a amazing person. I love you, okay?”

“Even if I’m a little slow?” You said with a small laugh.

“You’re not. Don’t say that. Not everyone learns at the same time. We should blame society for making others think that they’re inferior because they don’t learn the same pace as they do-“

You kissed him to make him shut up. He laughed and kissed you again when you pulled away.

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #spiderman across the spiderverse

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pastanest · 1 year

Text

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: guess who’s back with another shrimp reid fic. that’s right, you guessed it, Im ovulating

gif from an unnamed source on google so if it’s yours please let me know and I’ll credit!! ♡

Mean It

The bond you have formed with the resident genius of the BAU is one that you treasure. Every morning, you are most excited to practically skip into the office with the brightest smile on your face, just for him. The wonder, the magic that is Doctor Spencer Reid, and you are lucky enough to call him your closest friend.

He is endlessly fascinating to you. Unlike the rest of the team, you have never once cut one of his rambles short, you have listened to each and every one in its entirety, with stars in your eyes.

The two of you talk about anything and everything, from the most mundane smalltalk to the deepest philosophical debates, and you enjoy every moment spent in Spencer’s company.

However, as you perch on Spencer’s desk in what has become a morning tradition, the look on your face as you glance around the office makes your dear friend’s heart sink, because he knows who you are looking for.

And right on cue, Derek Morgan strolls into the office, yelling an overly enthusiastic question that is - much to Spencer’s dismay - ritualistic, too.

“WHERE’S MY PRETTY GIRL?”

The beaming smile on your face as you hop off of Spencer’s desk and run into Derek’s open arms is worse than a bullet wound, which Spencer knows to be true without any actual proof.

He watches on, wondering if his skin is turning green with jealousy, as Derek picks you up and spins you around, the two of you laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the world. What’s so funny about that? Spencer thinks bitterly, frowning at his computer and forcing himself to shift his focus, though his subconscious continues to grumble. If he was ever allowed the privilege of holding you like that, the last thing he’d do is laugh about it.

Thankfully, the morning event is over as quickly as it began, and you skip back over to Spencer with a smile that’s different to the one you had for Derek. What shade of green is Spencer now?

“Sorry about that, Spence, gotta reach my daily hug quota!” You chime.

Spencer’s stomach drops. He wants so badly to offer his own services, to perhaps suggest some variety in who is allowed to meet your daily-hug-quota and enquire whether you’d consider his application, whether he meets your criteria. But, in what can only be described as the worst preconceived notion in human history, Spencer does not like physical contact in the majority of circumstances, as you have well known since the day you met him and he proposed a kiss would hold less germs than a handshake, which made you blush in a way his eidetic memory has never let him forget. He wishes, more than anything, he could travel back in time to that very day, to add a clause to the contract he’d bound himself to, some fine-print that said ‘physical contact from and with (Y/N) is the only exception to every typical circumstantial preference for no physical contact’. Alas, Spencer Reid had unintentionally doomed himself.

Today is a rarity, in which the team have spent the day confined to the BAU building, filing case reports and talking amongst themselves. You speak to Spencer most of all, because on the occasion anyone else speaks to him, he finds he is too distracted by you to fully focus his efforts on the conversation.

As per usual, you wait at the elevator doors for Spencer, never walking out of the office without him in an unspoken gesture of your sweet appreciation for his company.

“Oh, Spence, did you want to have a Doctor Who sleepover tonight?” You suggest suddenly, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen and his heart to skip simultaneously.

“Y-Yes! Of course!” He blurts out, perhaps a little too quickly. Perhaps, he should have paused for a beat, giving you the impression he had been able to form a degree of a coherent thought before he answered you.

Instead, Spencer spends the elevator ride down to the ground floor glancing at you with a dazed look in his eyes, like you are the first star he’s ever seen and he’s too shy to look at you for too long. Why would he be shy in the presence of a star? Stars are out of his reach, beyond the realm of his capability to hold. That metaphor had been far more applicable than he’d realized.

The drive to your house is spent in accordance with your typical pre-sleepover routine; Spencer says he doesn’t mind what music you play, and you select one of your many playlists at random, singing and dancing in such a theatrical way in the passenger seat of Spencer’s car that he truly wonders if he didn’t have an IQ of 187, would he be able to split his focus between adoring you and concentrating on the road?

In what feels like no time at all, you and Spencer are sitting on your sofa with a blanket each and a bowl of popcorn between you that Spencer finds himself internally cursing with every unkind word he knows, as he does each and every time that pathetic plastic bowl forms an impassable barrier between him and you. Occasionally, his fingers are lucky enough to brush yours if you happen to reach for popcorn at the same time. You always chuckle like it’s a coincidence, never quite catching onto the way in which Spencer studies your movements in his peripheral vision to calculate, down to a fine science, how long it takes you to finish one handful of popcorn before you’ll reach for another, and he can just so happen to plan his movements accordingly. All for a brush of your fingertips. In truth, Spencer would run through a burning building just for the chance to hold your hand, even if it wasn’t promised. The chance, that’s all he needs.

In the midst of what is otherwise a very traditional evening shared between the two of you, Spencer feels different. The more he thinks about how this evening could play out if Derek Morgan were in his place, the more Spencer wonders if his eyes are playing tricks on him or if the skin of his hands is turning green with jealousy. Would the bowl of popcorn be in the same place? Would it be on your lap, or Derek’s, allowing the two of you to sit closer, considering you already showcase just how comfortable you are together? Or would it be on the coffee table, leaving no obstruction between you and Derek at all? Would his arm be around you, and would your arm be around him in return? Would you be telling Derek the pieces of movie trivia that Spencer had been the one to tell you, when you watched a movie with Derek that you had previously seen with Spencer? Do you wish Derek was here with you instead? ‘Nauseous’ is too small a word and does not contain enough profanities.

“I’m not gonna get through all this popcorn on my own, Spence.” You chuckle quietly, having noticed that your company hasn’t reached for popcorn in some time due to how cold your hand feels, having not flushed at the sensation of his fingertips in too long.

“Sorry, not hungry.” Spencer murmurs.

The sadness in his voice sets off alarm bells in your head immediately, and you pause the movie, discarding the bowl of popcorn that Spencer’s scowl follows all the way to the coffee table, while you turn to face him on your couch.

“Spence, what’s the matter? Do you feel sick?” You ask gently.

Yes, actually, viscerally.

“Nothing, I’m-“

You shake your head, the only time you’ll ever cut him off is when he tries to deflect. “Don’t. I can see something’s wrong, and if you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay, but can you please tell me what I can do to help?”

Of course, Spencer’s feelings for you have a solid foundation in the perceptive and attentive person that you are, forever seeing right through him.

“Do you…Do you ever have movie nights with Morgan?” He asks timidly, his head hanging in shame, his gaze fixed on his lap.

Spencer’s question completely catches you off guard, and your jaw drops, an amused smile gracing your features in utter bewilderment.

“What? No, Derek’s never even stood on my doorstep, Spence, why do you ask?” You question the motives of his query, and he sighs in defeat.

“I just figured…you’re so comfortable with him, you must want to spend time with him outside of work, too. I guess I just don’t understand why you’d invite me instead. Do you pity me, or something?” Spencer asks in a dejected and small voice.

The cogs in your brain are turning, your expression softening in turn.

“Spencer, I don’t pity you, I invite you because I enjoy spending time with you.” There’s a delicacy to your words, recognising his fragile state.

And Spencer’s foolish, lovesick heart sings from beneath the ruins at your words, at the tiniest spark of hope that is immediately suffocated by his own insecurities.

One word from you has the power to make and break him, all at once.

“But you enjoy Derek more.” Spencer’s voice breaks on the last word he speaks, and he closes his eyes in a pained blink, turning his face away from you completely in an effort to shield himself from the kindness he’ll see in your gaze. “You sit with me every morning while you wait for him, and the second he’s there, you’re gone. The way you smile at him isn’t the same way you smile at me. I understand that you don’t feel the same way about me, but I don’t understand why you’d waste any time on me outside of work, based on that.” Spencer is trying his absolute best to phrase everything he says in his usual objective, matter-of-fact tone, but the hurt in his words is so clear.

“Spencer,” You sigh gently, “Will you look at me, please?”

He shakes his head. “Can’t.”

“Why not?” You ask in the same soft voice that makes his heart ache.

“I’ll forget how much this hurts the moment I look at you.” Spencer mutters.

“Don’t you want to forget?” You question, almost pleading.

Spencer shakes his head. “If I forget, I’ll throw myself back into the same cycle of pining for you, living off of your smiles and glances and the instances where I make you laugh.”

Your heart breaks at his words, and for a few seconds, you don’t say anything. The very moment the idea enters your mind, you reach for Spencer’s hand, holding it gently in both of yours, and immediately, his wide eyes have turned to stare at you.

And your tears. You must have only started crying after you last spoke to him, because if you had been crying in the midst of your reply, Spender wouldn’t have been able to hear anything else.

And just like he predicted, the sight of you makes him forget every ounce of his own pain, his heart breathing a sigh of relief and reaching out for you in pure anguish at the sight of you, in tears.

“Why are you crying?” Spencer asks, his voice barely above a whisper. If it wasn’t for your tears, the way you are holding his hand would render him incapable of forming a single word.

“Because you have no idea that you’re my favorite person in the universe, Spencer.” You sniffle.

Spencer frowns slightly. “Please don’t say that if you don’t-“

“I mean it.” You cut his deflection short again. “I come into the office every morning excited at the thought of seeing you, and I stay sitting on your desk, as close to you as I’m allowed to be, until we’re forced to work; the only time I leave your desk in the mornings is to briefly greet Derek, because he is the only person who knows how I feel and he hugs me in the way I wish you would, to make me feel better.” You explain through your tears. “And you’re right, I don’t smile at you the same way I do at Derek.”

Spencer is uncertain as to whether his heart has given out entirely.

He blinks. Once. Twice. And a third time. Then rapidly, six times, to blink the tears away that dared blur the perfect vision of you in front of him.

“I treat you differently to Derek because I adore you enough to never want to risk overstepping your boundaries with physical contact. I sit on your desk to resist hugging you every morning, I put a bowl of popcorn between us whenever we watch a movie because I’m afraid I’ll subconsciously lean closer to you, and it hurts to put those limitations in place, to feel the ever present distance between us, but I don’t care, because I do it for you, and I’d do it for you forever.” You add, the words falling from your lips so easily, Spencer can almost feel how long you’ve been holding them in.

“(Y/N)…” He chokes out the only word his heart and soul can remember in this moment.

“I never meant to make you feel like you are less important, or that I like you less- I’m so sorry.” The waterfalls from your eyes are too constant for you to manage now, and you let go of Spencer’s hand to hold your own face instead, hiding yourself and your guilt from him in your state of vulnerability.

Spencer glances at the popcorn bowl on the coffee table for a fraction of a second, before he shuffles over on the couch to occupy the space he had been aching to steal from that bowl since your very first sleepover, and very slowly, he wraps his arms around you. And it’s instinctual, the way your hands come away from your face as you wrap your own arms around his neck, your face finding the home it had always longed for in Spencer’s shoulder. As if slotting into place, you find yourself sitting on his lap with no real understanding of how you got there, because all that matters is that he is holding you there.

“I’m sorry for getting jealous, I had no right to.” Spencer’s apology breaks the silence, and he speaks into your hair, his every sense soaking in the sensation, the scent of you.

“I’m glad you did, but you didn’t need to. I’ve been yours since the day we met.” You say, as if your words are a casual statement and not life-altering in a way that changes Spencer Reid’s very brain chemistry.

“You’ve been mine?” He repeats your statement as a disbelieving question.

Wiping your tears with your sleeve, you sigh dramatically. “Yep. Just waited around for you to notice.”

And Spencer can’t quite believe it, but he laughs, shaking his nose into your hair and holding you tighter against his chest.

“I’m sorry for being oblivious, in that case.” He apologizes, his tone more lighthearted now.

“I’m sorry too.” You chuckle.

“From what I understand of confession-scenes, they are not supposed to contain this many apologies.” Spencer muses, making you laugh heartily, his soul very nearly rising out of his body at the sound.

“Everyone knows the best confessions have a bit of angst.” You joke, and Spencer nods, laughing with you.

“And you do have a proclivity for dramatics.” Spencer teases, and you playfully poke his chest, the two of you sharing a giggle like a pair of giddy teenagers.

A pleasant minute of silence passes as you revel in holding each other, an intimacy once pined after finally being felt in full-force, until a question rises in you that simply has to be asked, or you will burst.

“Does this mean that, going forward, our sleepovers can include makeouts?” You pull away from Spencer’s chest enough to watch the shade of pink blossom in his cheeks, his pupils dilating as he looks into your eyes, and he nods.

“I-I believe that is a feature that is well-worth adding to our list of sleepover activities.”

And when he says it like that, how can a girl be expected to do anything but kiss him senseless in response?

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