#and immediately thought of every blonde i know of that's ever had the absolute worst day of her life in these games | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honnelander · 8 months

Text

go fish! part 2

guyssss i did NOT expect this little series to blow up. y'all are amazing! i'm turning into a Sanji writing blog and am i mad about it? no lmao i received a couple of requests and i'll work on them as soon as i can. i'm really in the zone rn so i'll ride this wave as long as i can. if you want to be a part of the taglist for whenever i post new Sanji content, lmk. i hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.8k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: after being humiliated by Usopp earlier, reader stays in her room to decompress. however, she gets a visitor.

prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123

Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still.

Ever since you ‘forfeited’ from finishing your Go Fish card game with Usopp a couple of hours ago, you had taken your glass of water that Sanji had poured for you and boarded up in your shared room with Nami, refusing to come out due to “heat exhaustion”.

Poor Luffy, ever the golden hearted captain, was immediately worried for your wellbeing as soon as he heard that but after multiple reassurances from you and getting up off of your hammock multiple times to prove you were in fact, just fine, he relented from wanting to stop by the nearest island so he could find a doctor for you. Usopp had managed to convince him as well that all you needed was some water, alone time, and that you would be fine by dinnertime.

You rubbed your eyes as you let out a sigh, vowing to yourself that the next time you wanted some time by yourself, you should just take a bath or something, since any other excuse would cause someone on the crew (Luffy) to lose their mind at the thought of someone not feeling well.

You readjusted yourself, sitting more upright, as you downed the last of your water, it being warm by this point since it had been poured by Sanji hours ago.

Sanji. Ugh.

Your heart fluttered once again at the mere thought of him, but that flutter was immediately replaced by a wave of crashing embarrassment at the thought of the afternoon’s sequence of events. What had happened earlier wasn’t even anything that groundbreaking or special, but to you? It was everything. It wasn’t common practice in your life for the object of your affections to be so kind towards you, so thoughtful, to read and anticipate your needs before you even knew they were even there. But Sanji? He was all of that and more. And you didn’t even know him for that long! You’ve all been a part of the straw-hat crew for 5 months at this point and it felt silly to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on one of your crewmates in that short amount of time.

And having feelings for your crewmate? Someone who you literally couldn’t get away from since you all were trapped on a ship together (not that you would ever want to be away from him or anyone else for that matter, besides Usopp, but still), it felt morally wrong. You guys were all a team. Sure, you all were off to sail around the world and chase dreams, but achieving all of that required teamwork and trust, and that was hard to do if two of those people were caught up with matters of the heart every hour of every day.

Like, what if things didn’t work out in the end? Would you really want to put the crew’s dynamic at stake just because you thought the blonde guy was cute? No, you wouldn’t. It would be selfish so you would never dare to put yourself or Sanji in that position. No matter how much you liked him.

So as much as it pained you, you could never tell Sanji how you feel. You would never cross that line of being a ‘professional pirate’ into something more, like a pirate wife. Or a pirate chef’s wife.

It definitely didn’t help that freaking Usopp of all people on the crew knew about your affections for Sanji. Ugh, you groaned. He was the absolute worst person to know about it too. Why did he have to figure it out? Why did he have to be the one that had put two and two together to equal four? That your random bouts of awkwardness and shyness plus ‘heart eyes’ and blushes whenever Sanji was around equaled to you having a forbidden crush on the crew’s chef? It was embarrassing. And complicated.

He loved to stir the pot too, so whenever he could tease you for it when you both were alone or in front of a clueless Sanji, he would. You remembered the kiss he had shared with Kayla back when the straw-hats had acquired the Going Merry, so you definitely jabbed him right back when you had had enough, since part of you felt guilty for it since Kayla was thousands of miles away and Sanji lived on this ship with you. Your situations were slightly similar but completely different.

Also, completely different in the way that him and Kayla were basically dating at this point, albeit long distance, and had shared a kiss while you could barely sustain eye contact that lasted more than 5 seconds with Sanji.

You were hopeless.

“Knock, knock,” a familiar accented voice came through the closed door. “Y/n? Are you awake?”

"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.

Shit. You weren’t mentally prepared to see him just yet. At all. You were still replaying the interaction you both had earlier in your head, your overthinking mind going over every minute detail to figure out if Usopp’s careless teasing had given away your affections.

Usopp, you mentally ground out. You were going to kill him. Sanji had never stopped by your room before so what on earth was he doing here now?

Suddenly, a thought struck you like a bolt of lightning and made your stomach drop fifty miles below sea level: if Sanji had specifically stopped by your room just to gently let you down, that no, in fact he did not feel the same way about you, that he only thought of you as a member of the crew and nothing more....then yeah, you were definitely going to kill Usopp and throw him overboard.

Before you could mentally plot out more details on Usopp's murder, the door opened and the straw-hat chef’s blonde head appeared. His eyes quickly scanned Nami’s empty hammock on the room’s left side before turning his head to the right, his blue eyes immediately finding your surprised ones, a (relieved?) smile lighting up his face at the sight of you.

“So, I take it you’re awake?” Sanji asked in a light, teasing tone but not making an effort to move himself away from the doorway.

“Uh, y-eah,” you stuttered out in surprise as you just stared at him dumbfounded. You still couldn’t figure out why he was here.

Sanji continued to lock eyes with you, making your cheeks flush the longer you both stared at each other, and your palms sweat as the silence stretched on, making the tension in the air become thicker by the second. He blinked, his eyes darting to the side in confusion, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “May I come in?”

“OH! Yes, of course- sorry,” you stuttered as you waved him inside, sitting up in your hammock and mentally face palmed yourself. Of course, Sanji was waiting on you to invite him inside. Like always, he was acting like a true gentleman. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Sorry, that was rude of me. Make yourself at home.”

Sanji stood up to his full height and walked into your room with an easy smile and a small laugh, closing the door behind him. “Ah, don’t ever apologize y/n. You could never be rude to me,” Sanji rebuttalled and waved off your apology as he looked around and took in your very plain and basic shared room with Nami.

Your room, or side of the room more specifically, wasn’t much to brag about considering you really didn’t have much to your name but for now, it was home to you. Your side consisted of your hammock, a wooden barrel next to it to act as a makeshift nightstand that housed your only book, a journal, and a lamp, along with an empty wooden crate to act as a makeshift seat and another to hold some of your other clothes and small travel bag. Nami’s side was similar to yours but had a touch more personality as she hung up some maps she found at various markets and drew up herself on her wall.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious about the lack of things in your room considering your current guest was dressed, as usual, to the nines in his signature black suit and blue and white striped shirt complete with a skinny black tie. “Sorry for the sad state of my room-”

“Sad?” Sanji stopped admiring your room and snapped his gaze to look at you. His eyebrows pulled together as another confused smile adorned his features. “Why would you say that? Your room isn’t sad, I like it. It’s a reflection of you,” his next words came out softer, “and I think that’s beautiful.”

You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his words as you busied yourself with placing the empty glass in your hand on your barrel nightstand. There was no way Sanji was calling you beautiful, he was just commenting on your room. With Nami. On your shared room that owed any ounce of ‘personality’ to the ship’s navigator because it was obvious you literally brought nothing special to this room whatsoever.

You stopped yourself from spiraling into ‘I don’t bring anything special to the straw-hats, I don’t know why they keep me around’ thoughts because now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Those dark thoughts were reserved when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night.

As you placed the glass on the nightstand, you asked, “So, what brings you all the way to my room? Aren’t you usually prepping for dinner around this time?”

Sanji’s eyes followed your hand and lit up when he saw the sole book on your nightstand. “Oh, a book? I didn’t know you liked to read.” His megawatt smile lit up a couple of notches as his eyes sparkled, he looked like he had just learned one of the universe’s greatest mysteries as he took a seat near you on an empty crate. “What book is that?”

“Oh, that?” You mentally deflated at the fact you now had to tell Sanji about your favorite book, “It’s Pride and Prejudice.”

You weren’t ashamed of having that book specifically, you loved it and it was your favorite book of all time, you had lost count at how many times you had read it at this point, but it was the fact that you now had to share this part of yourself with the guy you fancied. Guys normally scoffed and turned their nose up at romance book and romantic things, so you were bracing for Sanji to scoff and laugh at you like all the other guys did (like even Zoro and Usopp did when they first saw you reading it) but it never came.

Instead, Sanji’s smile remained bright. “Ah, so you’re a lover of classic romances? Pride and Prejudice? Romeo and Juliet?”

Immediately, you smiled, finding yourself instantly comfortable suddenly whenever you got to talk about one of your favorite things. “Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a problem big enough out there that love can’t solve. Family backgrounds? Wealth and status? At the end of the day, none of that stuff matters. What matters is if two people love each other.”

Sanji stayed quiet for a moment, looking into your eyes with a twinkle of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, never breaking eye contact. “I agree.”

You swallowed. “You like this stuff too? Have you read Pride and Prejudice?”

Sanji blinked and that indescribable emotion he had in his eyes was gone. His smile remained, however, and became sheepish as he held up his hands, “Ah ok, you caught me. I’ve never read the full thing, but I know the main parts of the story. My favorite part that I did read though, was the first dinner with Mr. Collins and he complimented the Bennets on their ‘excellent boiled potatoes’.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you teased, “I should’ve known that the chef of the Going Merry’s favorite part of the book is when food is discussed!”

The blonde cook held his hands up again with a good-natured laugh, “Ah, you got me!” His face softened as he asked, “What about you?" He nodded towards the book. "What’s your favorite part?”

You paused for a second as you mulled the question over. “Well, I'm not sure if you know about this part since you never read the book...”

“Try me,” he encouraged softly.

Your face turned to the side, your eyes looking at the wooden wall to your right, unable to bring yourself to look at Sanji as you told him your favorite part of your favorite book. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves, your voice becoming quiet as you told him, “My favorite part is...when Mr. Darcy barges in on Elizabeth for the first time, while she’s at her friend Charlotte’s house writing a letter. He had come to practice ‘conversating’ with her since he admitted that it wasn’t something he was good at and she had told him to practice it. So, Mr. Darcy just barged in and they had one of the most painfully awkward conversations ever...and he did all that just because he loves her. He did something he hated and was bad at, and opened himself up to embarrassment just because he wanted to improve and be better for her. It’s so romantic and beautiful.”

The air was quiet after your mini monologue and for a moment, nothing could be heard except for their quiet breathing and the occasional crash of the ocean from outside your small window.

Part of you worried that your little rambling had bored Sanji, so when you finally looked at him, imagine your surprise when you found him leaning in towards you, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees and his eyes watching you, completely engaged. It was like he was hanging onto your every word.

Sanji scanned your face for a moment, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not familiar with that part in the book,” and before you could open your mouth to bring yourself down, he continued, “but, that doesn’t mean your answer is wrong.” He leaned back and slapped his hands against his thighs, “Hell, it’s a much more insightful answer than mine!” He laughed. “I just liked how they were poking some fun at boiled potatoes.”

You laughed with him because yes, that part in the book also made you laugh as well. But at the mention of food, you realized that you still didn’t know why Sanji was here in the first place. Wasn’t he normally prepping for dinner at this time? He had to be running behind schedule at this point.

“Why are you here, Sanji? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?”

“Yeah, it is actually but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re feeling alright and see if you have any special requests for dinner?”

You couldn’t help the slight smile that overtook your face, trying to hide the blush at the fact that he was kind enough to check in on you and offer to practically be your own personal chef for the evening.

You hummed for a moment, acting like you were deep in thought before asking with a raised eyebrow, "And what would you say if I requested some boiled potatoes?”

The smile that lit up the chef’s face was priceless. He had never looked more beautiful. “To that, I would say ‘Absolutely. If that’s what the missus wants, then that is what the missus will get.’”

Missus. There it was again. You felt all warm inside whenever he called you that, it made you feel like he was your husband and that you were his wife. But that wasn’t the case. Sanji definitely must have called other women that before. You weren’t special to him, he was just being polite.

You swallowed down your emotions, putting your sudden wave of sadness away for later, putting on a small smile. “Then that sounds perfect. I would like to formally request some ‘excellent boiled potatoes’ as a side for dinner, please.”

If Sanji noticed your sudden change in mood, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned as he said, “Excellent choice, Madam. Boiled potatoes, coming right up.” As he stood up and made his way towards your door, Sanji did one of the most unexpected things that nearly knocked the wind out of you. With his left hand on the doorknob he said, “And don’t worry, Madam. I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of extra love in there,” he turned and winked at you, “just for you.”

With that, Sanji left your room, gently closing the door behind him, leaving you completely dumbstruck in your room, your mouth agape and body frozen.

Did Sanji just say he loved you?

You shook your head, because there was no way he did, right? He said he’d ‘sprinkle in some extra love’ into your potatoes, not 'I love you". You weren’t a chef, maybe that was a euphemism for something.

You sighed.

Those better be some good boiled potatoes.

4K notes · View notes

blushweddinggowns · 1 year

Text

They keep their relationship secret at the start, at Steve's request.

It's not that Steve was ashamed of Eddie or anything, but he knew what his friends were like. Nancy and Robin would have an absolute field day, especially with all of the whining and pining Steve had been giving them for months. The kids would immediately be all up in their business and he would probably get at least four different shovel talks when it did come out in the open. But worst of all they would all be biting at the bit to tell Eddie every embarrassing little thing they knew about him.

Steve could accept that, he could, he would, but could anyone blame him for wanting his boyfriend to not be aware of what a loser he could be? Eddie was still on the high of having Steve save his life and watching him not get his ass handed to him for once, and all Steve wanted was to keep that image alive during the early stages of their relationship. His image could be shattered after Eddie was madly in love with him.

Plus, Steve knew that he was Eddie's first real relationship and he wanted to give him the full King Steve wooing treatment. And that was a lot easier without being heckled by six children. And in Steve's humble opionion, he was doing a damn good job of it.

Calling every night just to ask how his day went? Check. Impromptu hugs from behind that involved picking Eddie up and twirling him around? Check. Special little presents throughout the week that never failed to make Eddie wear the prettiest blush Steve had ever seen? Double check.

He was even up for helping Eddie out with his drug deals on particularly busy weekends, always waving away Eddie's worried protests. No police officer in Hawkins would ever believe that drugs were being run through the Harrington household, even if the adult Harringtons themselves hadn't stepped foot in Hawkins for a year. Besides, he always managed to convince any of his lady clients to buy at embarrassingly high prices and was more than willing to be a charlatan for Eddie's financial sake.

So imagine his surprise when he wakes up to three furious kids pounding on his door the morning after scamming Tammy Thompson out of $30 for a gram of weed. He left Eddie behind in bed, thankful that he slept like the dead, kissing his hair before getting the door.

Max, Dustin, and Lucas stomped right past him the second he opened it, wasting no time before they started yelling over each other.

"Where is she?" Max gritted out, whipping her head around the living room, "And don't even try to lie, we saw her car here last night. And the weekend before!"

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, completely confused but at least aware it was way to early for him to be dealing with this shit, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"We know you're cheating on Eddie, just admit it!" Dustin crossed his arms over his chest, "And after everything he's been through?"

Lucas was shaking his head, and giving Steve the most disappointed look he'd ever seen, it was cutting, "And with Tammy? I really thought you'd changed man. You have five minutes to explain yourself before we tell Mike, and he'll just kill you."

Steve just stared at the trio, his mind desperately trying to catch up to figure out how they knew about Eddie and why they thought Steve was stupid enough to throw it all away for a blonde kermit. Eddie choose that moment to sleepily wander down the stairs, eyes widening at the sight of three teenagers berating his boyfriend in defense of his honor.

It took a half hour for Eddie to convince them it was all a misunderstanding and even less time for Steve to find out that everyone knew about them from basically day one.

"When you suddenly stopped waxing poetry about Eddie's hair this and Eddie's eyes that, we just knew it had happened," Max shrugged.

"And I've seen you guys make out at the drive in like, three times now," Lucas added, "You're really not subtle."

"Not that we aren't happy for you!" Dustin smiled, immediately appeased by Eddie's explanation, "Robin just told us to give you space until you came clean, but everyone thinks it's great."

"Robin knows?!"

They all nodded, all way too pleased with themselves, "Who do you think told us?"

Steve groaned, she was never going to let him live this down when she found out about this stupid Tammy thing, let alone the fact that she had him clocked from the get-go.

Dustin turned to Eddie, still all smiles, "So now that you know we know, we have so much to tell you."

Steve watched, head in his hands as his favorite children started to regale his favorite person with all of his most embarrassing moments, debating on if he should be thankful that they managed to even wait as long as they had to spill the beans, or if he should examine just how poorly he had managed to hide his feelings.

Either way that was the last time Steve tried to hide anything from his kids.

#steddie #drabble #steddie ficlet #look at me writing this instead of steddie wip i havent looked at for two weeks #whoops #eddie munson #steve harrington

1K notes · View notes

hecksilver · 5 months

Text

What if: Marie had told the truth?

this is a little "what if" scenario i created. i haven't write in a very long time so thank you anyone who read it, it means a lot.

“Just tell her the truth about what I did”

Marie felt like suffocating. Every heartbeat, every breath, seemed to carry a weight it wasn’t there before. Her palms were sweaty but there were goosebumps running down her spine, her lips felt dry and her eyes felt wet with unshed frustration. She couldn’t for the life of her think how she got there, one day she was just a freshman being faced with the brutal reality that was university – being rejected for her dream school by the person she thought it was nothing far from absolutely awesome, then going out with the top ranking students, drinking and doing Molly, saving someone’s life, being expelled and then not being expelled because the college’s Golden Boy (literally) killed the chairman of her dream school (cancelling her expelling in the processes, so thanks…I guess?) but then he killed himself in the middle of campus and now she was there; sitting in from of a hair and makeup station, getting prepared to give an interview for the first time in her life to none other them Hailey Miller.

It was more than just her life giving a 180º - it fucking twisted itself into a pretzel and then blew itself in her face.

“Just tell her the truth about what I did”

They dressed her up in red (how creative) and gave her a script, because apparently every interview was scripted. Marie swallowed the lump in her throat and ran her eyes along the lines.

Marie: I saw in his eyes, and immediately knew. He was determined, on a mission to kill. And I was his next target.

It felt bad. Really bad. Luke was distraught not insane, he was angry, yes, but not a her – well, maybe a little bit at her, she did showed up at be worst time possible. And he did try to…hurt her? Kill her? She didn’t know, she never find out and never would.

He was a blazing human torch towards her, filled with fury and a pain Marie couldn’t place in the grand scheme of things. She could’ve gotten hurt, badly, like Brink…Then why did she felt like she was doing something so very shitty by reading those lines? Why did it felt like a fabricated lie when, in retrospect, it kind off wasn’t?

“Hailey,” she read. “‘It was just you and Andre?’, Marie: Just us. I knew I had to stop Golden Boy,” she frowned. “‘Before he killed more innocent… people’.”

All she ever wanted was to be a hero, and by those lines she sounded heroic. She “fought” Golden Boy, the top ranking Luke Riordan, the one everyone knew was destined to great things, to be a member of The Seven, worthy of being compared to Homelander himself.

She “fought” him.

She won. A hero.

He lost.

He died. A villain.

“Just tell her the truth about what I did”

Marie signed.

“You’re live on camera, whatever story you tell them they have to run with.”

“Actually, Hailey, someone else was there, too,” she stared at herself in the mirror, trying to seek courage and determination in her own eyes. “Jordan Li.”

“You didn’t do shit. You ran.”

“Jordan’s the one who really fought Golden Boy.”

She knew what she had to do.

Just tell the truth, be honest. Jordan was there – the one who fought a friend to protect her, the one who lost a friend protecting her.

Marie’s chest tightened when Hailey Miller approached, looking as pasty and blond as she did on TV. Greeting her with a voice sickeningly sweet, being polite and nice, poised, as the makeup crew gave her the finishing touches, looking comfortable in front of so many cameras and so many people that Marie was sure she wouldn’t fit in any other work – maybe everything would go well, Hailey Miller was a professional, so it’s not like she would purposely want to fuck with her-

“There’s not gonna be any ‘gotchas’. We won’t mention your sister,”

Well…Fuck.

“Oh,” she breathed. “What do you mean?”

Hailey Miller looked at her with a brief smile playing in her lips, as if it was all planed, all a part of the show. Eyes trained on her like those of a falcon – ready to pounce at the first slip, glimmering with the excitement of fresh blood. “I thought you knew. I’m Sorry.”

No, with that fucking self-congratulatory look in her face, she wasn’t.

She wasn’t sorry for shit.

“We invited her to comment,” Marie felt the air leaving her lungs, a coldness spread through her chest. Annabeth was there? After all this years? She would see her? Her eyes teared up. She didn’t focus on the fact Hailey Miller didn’t even bother to look at her. “You know where she is?”

“Not really. We just found an email.” Hailey checked herself on a mirror.

“Can I have it?” Hailey looked at her with…Annoyance? Pity? Marie couldn’t tell. “Please.”

Hailey Miller than signed and Marie knew – deep down she knew – something bad was coming up.

“What is it?” She pursed her eyebrows. “What did Annabeth say?”

“She said she didn’t want anything to do with you. I’m sorry.”

Things seemed to move slowly but way too fast at the same time, her heart became heavier, but her blood was running faster, echoing in her ears.

“Family, right?” Hailey Miller said, her voice muffled in Marie’s ears.

It was like she was drowning, a high-pitched ringing buzzed inside her head. She was dizzy, her fingers held the sides of her chair so firmly like she would fall in her face the moment she loosened her grip. Annabeth couldn’t have said that, could she? She must know Marie didn’t mean too kill their parents, she was frightened too, and lonely, and so, so guilty… Why Annabeth couldn’t see that? Why she didn’t understand?

Fuck that.

“Sorry,” her voice was small, trembling. “Could you repeat the question?”

“This is a lot. I know.” Hailey said with the all the fake sympathy her face could muster. “Golden Boy, the most powerful superhuman on campus, in a murderous frenzy, charging, and it was just you.”

Marie swallowed.

It was just her…

“I fought Luke to protect you.”

Marie felt like spiraling, every second going deeper and deeper. She breathed, trying to suck up the air, but it wasn’t enough, and every exhale came with a bigger suffocation feeling.

“Marie?”

“Just tell her the truth about what I did”

“We knew we had to stop Golden Boy before he killed more innocent people,” her voice sounded assured, strong. Firm even though she felt her insides twisting and turning. “It was down to us.”

“Us, you said?” Hailey Miller probed.

“Yes. Me, Andre…” Inhale. Exhale. “And Jordan Li.”

“You don’t owe me shit, but I’m asking anyway.”

Later that night, when she got to her dorm and find herself alone once more, she looked at her family photo, the last remaining of what once was a happy family. Her family, that was gone because of her.

Because of her fucked up powers.

She snapped her pocket-knife, the blade flipping up temptingly. It was a conflicting sensation as she pressed the sharp edge on her palm, crossing the faint scar open in an all too familiar stroke until the blood started to drip, and her tears finally started to fall.

She couldn’t tell how long she was seated there, maybe a minute, maybe an hour. But when she decided to get up that was a million things going around her mind – her sister resentment of her, her family, dead because of her; her powers, the cause of all her pain and grief; Andre (why the fuck wasn’t he there?) the reason why she got fucked over on the first place, Dean Shetty’s impassive look as the Interview moved on, Jordan...

Marie jumped when a knock thumped against her dorm door, it was constant and angry, and she didn’t doubt whoever was outside wouldn’t be past take the whole door down. She inhales deeply, whipping her tears away, hoping she didn’t look as bad as she felt when she swung the door open.

“You did it,” Jordan announced walking past her in a swift motion, the femme form pacing anxiously around the dorm. “You actually fucking did it.”

“Well, yeah,” Marie murmured, tired. “You were there, you fought Golden Boy…What else could I say?”

Jordan chuckle, incredulous. “They gave you a script,”

“I was live on camera, whatever story I told them they have to run with,” she repeated. “Or so I’ve heard.”

Jordan stepped closer, eyes fierce on hers, full of intent. There were something electric on being toe-to-toe with Jordan Li, facing their obnoxiously beautiful face, feeling their scent cloud any possible thought – Jordan’s body was close enough that Marie could felt its warmth, could perfectly hear their heartbeat, could glance at their mouth and imagine all the things that it could do to her, on her. Their lips looked so soft, so pink, and so lusciously delicate; she couldn’t help but let her mind wonder.

“Thank you,” Jordan said, finally. A breath of relief enrolled in their voice. “For telling the truth, I mean.”

Marie swallowed hard. Breathing deeply as she stepped closer into Jordan’s space, they didn’t move an inch what was a good sign, right? She wanted to do a lot, but didn’t know where to begging – hands on the shoulders? Or just lean in for the kiss? Maybe grab their wais and pull them forward, let them take the lead and kissed her? Do they want to kiss her back?

A loud buzz broke the thick silence between them. Jordan’s phone. They looked slightly apologetic by stepping back and then Marie’s own phone sounded.

“Holy fuck…” Jordan gasped.

Marie slides the screen up, reading at the notification of the God U student app.

“Hey MARIE MOREAU, check the Rank Update that we just put out!”

She clicked.

“Holy fuck!” she repeated.

#1: Jordan Li

#2: Marie Moreau

#3: Andre Anderson

#lgbtq #fanfic #gen v #marie moreau #jordan li #gen v jordan #jordan li x marie moreau #jordan x marie #jordanmarie #limoreau #mariejordan #gen v marie #jaz sinclair #london thor #derek luh #the boys #what if #hecksilver

91 notes · View notes

riveramorylunar · 1 year

Text

A Win For The Team

Pairings: Softball Coach Charlize Theron x Softball Player Reader

Warnings ⚠️: scratches, age difference, height difference, shouting & pure fluff

Pet Names/Nicknames: Dear, Sweetheart & Char

Word Count: 1,784

Baseball and softball season was starting soon which meant the teams had to start practicing. The Red Hawks were the worst team in both baseball and softball. Even though they had great couches the players were still awful. They lost every match and never got into the big leagues.

Y/N Y/L/N had played softball before she could even walk. People thought it was crazy and unbelievable but it was true. Since then her love for softball grew and she had joined all the softball teams her schools had up until after graduation when they moved from New Zealand to Kansas. Y/N had just turned 19 before her and her family moved. Her friends threw a huge goodbye/birthday party which she absolutely loved and had the best time.

"So Y/N are you going to join the softball team" Luca said as he looked at his younger sister. "I don't know I've heard that this is the worst team ever even if they have amazing coaches" Y/N said causing her brother to laugh. He was 6 years older than Y/N which made him 25 years old. "Maybe if you joined they'd get better" Luca said causing Y/N to think. "Alright I'll join" Y/N said causing her brother to smile.

Luca drove Y/N to the softball field and saw the team already practicing. Once they got out they heard someone shouting. "GUYS COME ON IF YOU GUYS WANT TO GET INTO THE LEAGUES YOU HAVE TO GET BETTER" they heard a woman shout. They looked over at the bleachers to see a woman with short blonde hair wearing a baseball uniform. She was wearing a red baseball hat as well. "She seems nice" Luca said as they walked over. "Excuse me Miss" Luca said causing the woman to look over. Y/N gasped at how beautiful the woman was. She had the most beautiful forest green eyes. "What can I help you with" the woman said as she stood up and put her hands in her pockets. Go was she tall Y/N thought. "Well my sister wants to join your team" Luca said causing the woman to raise her eyebrow. "Are any better than these girls" the woman said pointing to the girls who were practicing. "Definitely" Y/N said causing the woman to smirk before holding out her hand. "I'm Coach Theron let's see what you got" The Woman said and Y/N grabbed her hand. "Y/N Y/L/N what's your first name" Y/N said causing the woman to laugh before letting go of Y/N's hand. "You're bold and it's Charlize by the way but everyone calls me Coach Theron or Ms. Theron" she said and Y/N immediately smiled.

Y/N followed Charlize to the field and told everyone to take a break. All the girls rushed off and towards the bleachers. Y/N just chuckled quietly before taking her bat out. Unlike the other girls who had colorful baseball bats Y/N had a black metal one.

Y/N watched as Charlize walked to the pitcher base before rolling her shoulders out. Y/N did the same before gripping her baseball bat tightly. Y/N breathed in and out as she opened her eyes and nodded. Charlize nodded back before throwing the ball really fast. Y/N watched the ball before swinging the bat and hitting the ball perfectly causing it to go flying. "HELL YEAH THAT'S MY LITTLE SISTER" Luca shouted causing Y/N to blush slightly. She looked up to see Charlize walking up to her. "That was amazing I'd like to see you pitch" Charlize said and Y/N nodded. "Lilly come swing" Charlize shouted. Y/N watched as a girl with dark purple hair rushed over. I watched as she breathed in and out before opening her eyes and nodding. I smiled before lifting my leg up and throwing the ball almost as fast as Charlize did. The girl squealed before swinging the bat completely missing it. Charlize caught the ball before smiling. "Looks like we have a new member welcome to the team Y/N" Charlize said and I felt someone collided with my back. "That was amazing Y/N" Y/N heard her brother say causing her to smile. Charlize walked up to the both of them. "We have 3 months to practice until we face the Tasmanians" Charlize said and Y/N nodded. "Oh and Y/N maybe you can help the girls to get better" Charlize said and Y/N smiled. "I'll try my best Coach Theron" Y/N said causing Charlize to smile.

A month into practicing and the team was getting better which made Charlize proud. Charlize was sitting on the bench when Y/N joined her. "They're getting much better" Charlize said as she watched the team do throwing exercises. "All thanks to you" she said before looking over at Y/N. Y/N looked up at Charlize and smiled. After sitting quietly for a couple minutes Y/N looked back over. "Are you dating anyone" Y/N blurted out but immediately started talking again. "Not because I like you, I mean you're pretty hot and I don't know how you can be single, everyone should be falling for you" Y/N rambled on causing Charlize to laugh before leaning back. "No I'm not dating anyone. There were many times people have asked me out but I always said no" Charlize said before she looked at Y/N. "Why did you always say no" Y/N questioned causing Charlize to raise an eyebrow. "They didn't seem like the right person" Charlize said before winking at Y/N making her look away and blush slightly.

Another month had passed and Charlize & Y/N had gotten closer. "Come on Lilly you can do it just focus on the ball alright" Y/N shouted as she stood at the pitcher base. Y/N had been helping Lilly out since she was the only one that had a harder time. "Y/N I don't know if I can do it" Lilly shouted back and Y/N sighed before rubbing her face. "Just try at least" Y/N said and Lilly nodded her head before breathing in and out. Y/N smiled when Lilly nodded her head again before throwing the ball. Lilly closed her eyes and swung the bat. She hit the ball and it went flying. "THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT" Y/N shouted as she rushed over and hugged Lilly picking her up off the ground. The others rushed over and hugged the shorter girl as well while some of them patted her head. Lilly hid her face in embarrassment at all the attention she was getting. "It looks like we're ready to beat the Tasmanians" they all heard Coach Theron say. "But coach we still got one more month" Rayla said and the other girls nodded. "That is true but you've all gotten pretty good" Charlize said causing all the girls to smile. "Oh and if we win I'll take you all out to the diner" Charlize said causing all the girls to scream.

The day for them to face the Tasmanians had arrived and Y/N was nervous. She sat down on the ground of her bedroom as she leaned against her bed. "Sis it's almost ti- oh are you alright what happened" Y/N heard Luca say and Y/N slowly stood up. "I'm fine just nervous is all" Y/N said and her brother smiled before walking over and pulling Y/N into a hug. "You're going to do amazing out there like you do every time" Luca said and Y/N hugged back. "Thank you brother" Y/N said as she pulled away. "No Problem sis" Luca said before patting Y/N's head.

"Alright everyone listen up we've been practicing every day for the last 2 and a half months so you better get out there and win do you hear me" Charlize shouted out. "YES COACH THERON" all the girls shouted back causing her to smile. Charlize put her hand out and all the girls put their hands on top of hers. "On Three. One Two Three" Charlize said. "Go Red Hawks" They all shouted before they rushed towards the field. "Hey Y/N wait up" Charlize said before grabbing Y/N's wrist and pulling her back. "Yes Coach Theron" Y/N said smiling softly. "If we win I'll give you an extra surprise" Charlize said making Y/N blush slightly before nodding her head. "I'll be sure to win then Coach" Y/N said causing Charlize to smirk. "Good now go out there and make me proud" she said before Y/N rushed off. She watched as Y/N rushed off before smiling.

It was the final inning and if Y/N hit a home run they would win. "COME ON Y/N YOU CAN DO IT" the girls along with her brother shouted out. Y/N looked over at Charlize and she put her thumbs up. Y/N looked back at the pitcher of the other team before breathing in and out. She opened her eyes and got ready. The pitcher smirked before throwing the ball really fast. Y/N smirked back before swinging the bat and hitting the ball making it go flying. She dropped her bat before sticking her tongue out at the pitcher before darting off. When she touched the home base she was immediately lifted up off the ground. "Good job sweetheart" she heard Charlize say as she hugged back. People were cheering like crazy. Charlize set her down before taking Y/N's hat off and kissing her.

The girls on the team screamed in excitement as Y/N's brother just stared in shock with his eyes widened and mouth open. "When the hell did this happen" Luca said after he snapped out of it. Before he could walk any farther the girls stopped him. "Leave them be they're having their moment" Kenzie said poking Luca's forehead causing him to frown. "But" Luca was cut off when all the girls glared at him. "No buts you are not ruining a perfectly good moment now shoo" Daisy said pushing him away. Luca huffed before walking away causing all the girls to smile. They looked back over to see Y/N's face buried into Charlize's chest. "So are you two dating now" Hannah said as they walked over. Y/N nodded her head against Charlize's chest causing the girls to giggle. "You guys are absolutely perfect for each other" Lilly said making the other girls nod in agreement.

"Alright alright that's enough, get in the van and we'll head to the diner I did promise you girls" Charlize said and the girls giggled before rushing off towards the blue van. Charlize pulled away and looked down at Y/N who was already looking up at her. Charlize leaned down before pecking Y/N's lips. "Let's go before they leave without us" Charlize said right before she was getting pulled towards the van. "Char your an amazing Coach we couldn't have done it without you" Y/N said causing Charlize to smile softly.

#charlize theron my beloved 😍#charlize theron #Charlize Theron x Reader #River's Stories 📜

115 notes · View notes

raccoon-eyed-rebel · 14 days

Text

Actually...

I take it back. The absolute worst thing that's come out of this is the anon message I know I didn't just fucking get. Someone tell me I'm fucking hallucinating.

I'm gonna put this under a cut because if you woke up in a good mood this morning, or are not feeling this type of negativity then I respect that and I applaud you for protecting your peace.

But I need to vent.

Imma put a few fun little panda GIFs here and wait for you to truly decide if you don't want to use that back-button right about now.

"Fuck this blonde bitch I hope she lose that bastard and dies in the process".

That's the message I got. I didn't want to answer it directly because I really want to give people the opportunity to avoid the whole discourse if they want to, and answering directly would have a) thrown it in everyone's face, and b) probably would have just invited anon to come at me again, and honey, I ain't got the time.

Anon is blocked, of course, and I thought that would be enough but every time I think about this — and I can't stop thinking about it — I get more and more excruciatingly fucking ANGRY to the point where it physically hurts me, so I need to get this off my chest.

It takes a special kind of human garbage to type shit like that. And I swear to god that if I had any kind of money, I would invite you and your sorry ass to come off anon and I would immediately offer to pay for the therapy that you clearly desperately need.

What in the ever loving fucking fuck could ever prompt a person to wish death on not just a woman they've never even fucking met — regardless of whether you 'like' her or not, just take two seconds to breathe in, hold, and out again, bend your knees, get all the way down to the fucking floor and pick up what I'm about to put down: YOU DON'T KNOW HER. Alright. Got that? Good. — so not just a woman you've never met, but her and her unborn baby?

(Also... "bastard"? Really? Like... Meaning "child born to unwed parents"? Because a) so what? Children are born 'out of wedlock' every single day and it's literally not a problem, so there's that. And also b) they may actually be married and just haven't told anyone. And I can tell you it's because of people who would have responded exactly the way you just fucking did. So...)

Like, if you care so deeply about this entire situation that you feel the inexplicable and uncontrollable need to harass people on anon about it, I'm gonna suppose you consider yourself a fan of Henry, right?

I say 'consider yourself' instead of 'are' because I'm of an entirely different opinion. Because how, if you're a fan of anyone, could you possibly wish death (or any other kind of harm) on the two people that man loves most in the world. Because that's what that is. That's what you're doing.

I know people who have lost a spouse. I know people who have lost a baby. And although I'm not going to stand (sit) here and pretend to know what that feels like, I'm pretty confident saying this:

That is irreparable damage.

Damage you will learn to live with. Pain that you will carry with you for the rest of your life.

That's what you're wishing on a man you supposedly care about. Someone you care so much about, in fact, that you took time out of your no doubt not all too busy schedule to harrass other people saying this completely despicable shit, ruining days (congratulations, you managed that, at least. It's an accomplishment, I guess).

I'm fucking depressed right now. Not because of this, and not because of you, don't worry. This was a preexisting condition. All I wanna say is that, in addition to sorting out all of those feelings I'm having by myself, about myself, and about my own life, I really don't need to deal with the pile of human garbage that is your fucking psycho ass, anon.

Get help.

Or at the very least fucking 'suffer' in silence.

#raccoon rambles #raccoon rants

12 notes · View notes

allthefakepeople · 2 years

Note

wilmon: “wait you think i’m cute?” for the prompts please 😊

ok ok anon i'm so so sorry this took me a bit to get it out. i was a little busy the last couple days. to make up for it, it's actually pretty long :))

it's definitely an au so i hope that's ok with you and that it's everything you wanted it to be.

(also as i've said before, if you sent me a prompt and i haven't finished it yet, i promise i will get to it. i'll definitely have more time to work on them tomorrow.)

anywayyys... i hope you all like it :)))

-Miels 💜✨

Writing Prompts (yes you can still send me them, i've been loving this) (ps you can send me one even if it’s not on this list! like if there’s something you want to see, let me know and i’ll do my best to deliver)

“wait, you think I’m cute?”

Wilhelm Prince was one of the most infuriating people that Simon had ever met. Tall, with dirty blonde hair and a smile that manages to trick everyone into thinking he’s an innocent guy. Simon is sick of it. He feels like he’s the only one who can see Wilhelm for who he really is. From the first moment Simon met the guy he knew that he was putting up a façade. It also didn’t help that every time Simon said anything in class Wilhelm would find a way to disagree with it. The worst part about it is they were good points. And what made Simon the most frustrated about it, is he’s pretty sure Wilhelm didn’t even agree with his own points. He’s almost positive that Wilhelm actually agrees with him because he’s overheard Wilhelm in groups making points that Simon himself would make. Which means, Wilhelm is disagreeing with Simon in front of people just to disagree with him. He is also entirely unaffected by Simon’s obvious displeasure with him. Simon hates that Wilhelm can tell that he can get to him. He almost looked like he was enjoying the challenge of going head-to-head with Simon. Simon didn’t understand it nor did he like it. Wilhelm always looks at Simon with this attentive expression as if he’s seriously interested in whatever he’s saying and has this look in his eye like he wants to tear back all of Simon’s carefully placed walls. Those golden brown eyes pierce into Simon look like they want to pull out all of Simon’s most inner thoughts. Simon always leaves class feeling stripped bare.

It doesn’t help that he’s infuriatingly attractive and seems to know it. Simon always catches him chatting with people in the halls, all soft smiles and gesturing hands. He’ll watch as Wilhelm will push his hands through his hair like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to whoever he’s talking to. Simon’s pretty sure he’s captured the hearts of everyone in their shared psychology course. Well not Simon. He knows Wilhelm’s little game. He won’t fall victim to Wilhelm’s charms no matter how much his heart flutters when he has Wilhelm’s attention on him.

Which is why he’s currently frowning as he watchings Wilhelm across the room at a party. He doesn’t know how he got to be at said party. He doesn’t like parties. He’d much rather sit on the couch and binge watched New Girl for the hundredth time. However his sister, Sara, had been invited to one at her friend Felice’s apartment and she’d practically begged him to go and he was practically incapable of saying no to her. So here he is.

It’s just as terrible as he thought it would be. The lights are hurting his head, the music is hurting his head, and the loud people are hurting his head. He found a corner almost immediately and has been stationed there since they’d arrived. He’d lost Sara almost immediately but knew she’d indicate to him when she wanted to leave. That didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon. Thus Simon was stuck in his corner, eyes wandering over all of the other party guests.

He absolutely hates how quickly his eyes get drawn to Wilhelm. He looks as good as ever, laughing with whomever he’s talking with, despite the crown made out of glow sticks placed on his head. One hand is gesturing, as always, while the other holds a classic red solo cup with some kind of liquid that Simon is sure is filled with alcohol. Simon’s eyes stray back to the makeshift crown on Wilhelm’s head. Simon scoffs. Someone seems to be taking his surname a slight bit too literally. It’s because he’s already watching Wilhelm that he shouldn’t be surprised that Wilhelm catches him. Simon is just happy that Wilhelm doesn’t catch Simon looking him over. Godforbid Wilhelm thinks Simon is checking him out. Simon observes as Wilhelm makes eye contact with him and the smile on his face somehow softens slightly. Simon curses and looks away. He wasn’t supposed to get caught. It’s because Wilhelm is, apparently, the bane of his existence that he then hears

“Simon!” yelled out across the room. How he hears it over the music he’s not sure but maybe it’s become far too intune with Wilhelm’s voice from class. Up until this point Simon has been able to avoid one-on-one interactions and he isn’t looking forward to what this one will entail.

“Simon, hi!” And then Wilhelm’s soft smile is hitting him at full force. Simon tries to keep his face as neutral as possible. This guy is a straight, arrogant rich boy. Simon will not fall victim to his charms (a small voice in the back of his head scolds him for assuming Wilhelm’s sexuality but he ignores that. best to keep his mind from running wild).

“Wilhelm,” Is all Simon says, keeping his voice as deadpan as possible. Maybe if he sounds uninterested enough Wilhelm will just leave him alone.

“Oh, please. Call me Wille,” Is what Wilhelm says in response, a smile still stuck on his face. Wilhelm brings the hand not holding his cup up to brush through his hair, a move that Simon has seen probably a hundred times at this point and has to keep from rolling his eyes.

“How kind… Wilhelm how are you tonight?” because if Wilhelm can be a little shit in class, Simon can be a little shit here. Simon can’t be sure but he thinks he sees Wille’s smile fade at that before it’s coming back almost stronger than before. It’s almost as if Wille’s trying to cover up his pain by proving that he can still smile, no matter how much faker this bigger smile looks. Wille’s hand comes back up to brush through his hair.

“I’m doing alright, Simon. How about you?” Before Simon can even answer this, Wille’s interrupting himself again. “Wait, can I get you something to drink?” Because of course.

“I don’t drink,” Simon tries to keep his annoyance out of his voice. He knows that Wille wouldn’t know this about him since Simon’s never been to one of these parties before.

“Oh that’s okay! I don’t either. I’m just drinking lemonade. I could get you something like that!” Simon can’t help his eyebrows from raising at that. In all honesty, part of him assumed that Wille had just approached him because he’s tipsy. Wille has never tried to talk to him outside of class before so this seemed the only logical explanation.

“Why the red solo cup, then?” Simon can’t help but ask. Wille’s face transforms into one of sheepishness before he answers.

“Honestly it keeps people from pestering me about it,” Wille explains, now his hand is rubbing at the back of his neck. In all honesty, Simon can understand that. There’s a bit of an awkward silence while Wille stares at Simon and Simon stares back not really sure what Wille’s waiting for. Wille seems to realize that Simon can’t read his mind.

“So lemonade?”

Simon considers the offer for a moment. It couldn’t hurt to have something in his hands while he waits for Sara to finish up here.

“Sure why not,” Simon caves. This brings the soft smile from before back to Wille’s face. Simon hates how good it looks.

“Okay follow me,” and without even waiting for Simon’s next sentence, Wille grabs Simon’s hand and starts to lead him through the crowded room. A shiver runs up Simon’s arm and he can’t help but keep his eyes trained on their joined hands the whole way through the living room to the kitchen. Wille doesn’t even seem to register what he’s done. Simon registers. Simon registers it quite a bit actually.

Once they get into the kitchen Wille drops his hand and heads straight for the fridge, bypassing the counter tops overflowing with different types of alcohol. Simon can’t help but be surprised at Wille’s audacity to just open up someone else’s fridge.

“Umm should you be doing that?” Simon can’t help but ask. He hasn’t been to many parties but he feels like it’s in poor taste to just open someone else’s fridge. Wille looks at him like he just told a funny joke.

“Well it is my apartment so I should hope so,” The smirk on Wille’s face as he says this just emphasizes how amusing he finds Simon’s comment. Then the words sink in. If this is Felice’s apartment… and Wille also lives here then that means they’re probably together. Which, when Simon thinks about it, makes sense. Beautiful people seem to stick together and Simon’s seen Felice enough times to know that she’s gorgeous… and Simon is past trying to admit that Wille isn’t beautiful.

“Oh so… you and Felice?” Wille stares at Simon after he says this long enough to wonder if he heard the question despite them standing right in front of each other.

“Me and Felice what?” As if he doesn’t know where that sentence was going.

“You and Felice are…” Simon bring himself to finish the statement for some reason but luckily Wille seems to finally pick up what he’s getting at. Simon doesn’t necessarily understand the surprise that follows the understanding though.

“Oh! No no. Felice and I are just friends. We knew each other in secondary school and when we found out we’d be going to the same university we decided to get a place together instead of staying in the dorms on campus.” Wille explains. The longer Wille explained things the more Simon felt himself flush with embarrassment over jumping to conclusions. Then Wille continues and Simon’s jaw just about drops to the floor.

“I’m too queer to be into Felice,” Wille finishes this with a charming smile that Simon feels all the way down to his toes. The smile softens into something fond “and I don’t deserve Felice anyways. She’s the best person I know,” Simon kind of hates that he’s feeling so endeared to Wille. This whole night was meant to prove that Simon’s opinion about him was right, not that he might’ve been missing something! Besides, none of this changes the fact that Wille seems to get a kick out of getting under Simon’s skin.

“Well I’ve met Felice a few times and… you’re not wrong about that,” Simon offers a small smile at that to show that he’s joking. Wille chuckles lightly at said joke. Then Simon is reminded of why he’s kept his distance from Wille.

“So how are you doing on this psych paper?” Simon should’ve known. Just because Wille’s queer, it doesn’t mean he’s not still an asshole. He should’ve seen it coming. Wille has probably just been buttering him up to distract him before coming in with the kill.

“Oh no… oh no no no,” The confused expression on Wille’s face and Simon’s face makes him feel even more frustrated.

“What?” The question is very clear in Wille’s voice but Simon’s sure he’s been led into a false sense of security before Wille absolutely rips Simon’s paper to shreds.

“I see what you’re doing and it’s not going to work. Not this time” Now Wille looks even more confused but Simon doesn’t care. He just pushes on.

“Look I’ve worked too long and too hard on this paper for you to come and shit all over it” Simon barely registered when Wille tries to interrupt

“No Simon that’s not” Simon just barrels through. He’s getting so worked up that he doesn’t even think of the next words until after they’ve left his mouth.

“Look, just because you’re cute and you have floppy hair and puppy dog eyes it doesn’t mean you can just come here and try to make me forget about how often you disagree with me in class. I won’t stand for…” before he can even finish the statement Wille is cutting him off again. He realizes he’s started pacing and hasn’t been looking at Wille as he gets more and more worked up because when Wille speaks up Simon is floored by the expression on his face.

“Wait, you think I’m cute?” The smile on Wille’s face is so bright that Simon almost has to look away again at the sight of it. Then he registers Wille’s words and he’s back to being annoyed.

“Really? That’s all you got from all of that?” Wille looks a little guilty at that.

“ No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to brush off the rest of it. I really was just asking about the paper. I really value your opinions and what you have to say?” Now Simon is the one to feel surprised.

“I don’t understand. If you value my opinions, why are you always disagreeing with them in class in front of everyone?” Simon questions. Wille’s hand runs through his hair before it moves back to his neck.

“I don’t know. I just like hearing how passionate you get about the subjects you talk about. And you didn’t even seem to glance in my direction until I started disagreeing with you.” At this, Simon’s mouth actually drops open.

“I…” Unfortunately before Simon can formulate more of a response, Sara is coming up to his side, interrupting their conversation.

“Simme… Simme…. Hi Simme,” Simon can tell she’s clearly quite a bit to drink.

“Are you okay Sara?” Simon sends a semi-apologetic look towards Wille, who’s watching the whole exchange with an expression that Simon can’t read, before he turns all of his attention to his drunk sister.

“Yeah, Simme. That’s funny Simme,” Simon realizes it’s probably time to get her home.

“Okay Sara, I think it’s time to get you home.” Simon explains, hoping she won’t put up too much of a fuss.

“Okay Simme,” Sara continues to giggle as Simon starts to drag Sara back through the house with one spared glance at Wille, who now seems slightly frozen in place. They’ve gotten outside and started walking, slowly practically all of Sara’s weight is resting against Simon, when he hears someone shout his name behind him.

“Simon! Simon, wait up on sec.” Simon knows who it is before he even turns around.

“Sara stay here for a second,” Simon has no idea if Sara will actually listen but she giggles and nods and doesn’t collapse to the ground immediately after Simon lets go so she thinks it might be safe. Simon turns to face Wille as he approaches on the sidewalk.

“What’s up Wille?” Wille’s face lights up and Simon doesn’t realize until after he’s said the statement why Wille might be happy. Instead of responding though, Wille hands him a slip of paper. When Simon looks down he realizes it’s Wille’s number.

“What’s this?” Simon can’t help but ask. Something like nervousness and a little bit of giddiness filling him.

“Well I was thinking maybe you could use that sometime. Maybe we could… get coffee and talk about how much our opinions actually align?” Simon can’t help but be slightly enamored by the fact that Wille is clearly nervous. He never would’ve expected Wille to be the type to be nervous to ask someone out.

“But why?” Since Simon’s brain was clearly left behind in that kitchen. Wille doesn’t seem deterred though. In fact instead he takes a few steps closer to Simon so that now Simon has to look up at him. Simon doesn’t hate it as much as he thought he might.

“Well because… I happen to think you're cute too,” And then before he can formulate a response to that, Simon feels a pair of soft lips against his cheek and Wille is retreating again, walking backwards for a few paces until he almost runs into a bush then he turns around to continue back to his apartment. Simon can’t help but snicker at the little display of clumsiness, though Simon also realizes his hand is against his cheek where it’s still heated up from Wille’s lips. Without allowing them too, Simon’s own lips creep into a smile. He’s not even sure what his next move will be but it’s interrupted by some drunk giggling behind him and he’s reminded of Sara, who luckily didn’t go anywhere but unluckily witnessed that whole display.

“Ooooh Simme has a cruuush,” Simon flushes at Sara’s innocent teasing.

“Shut up, Sara,” But even Sara’s mocking tone and mischievous expression can’t wipe the smile off Simon’s own face as they continue home.

Maybe… Wille Prince isn’t the most infuriating person Simon has ever met.

#young royals #young royals writing #yr writing #young royals au #young royals fanfiction #yr fanfic #yr fanfiction #wilmon #wilhelm x simon #wille is not a prince in this one #is simon 100% overcompensating his attraction to wille by pretending he hates him? absolutely #wilmon fanfic #wilmon writing #miels writes #anon request

69 notes · View notes

tbhsilver · 9 months

Text

On July 31, Infinite Entertainment confirmed to several South Korean outlets that Silver will soon be making her official debut as a soloist, over nine years after debuting in global K-Pop girl group FLORA (식물군). This news —

" no. "

silver watched in immense satisfaction as the faces around the conference room fell. she knew infinite had something sly up their sleeves when she was called into a meeting with her team and a couple higher-ups in the company. for years, be it new star or infinite, everyone had been trying to force her to release solo music. from a business standpoint, it had always made sense. she was the leader of one of the most beloved groups in the country, and had proved her versatility (when she cared to try) in an array of concepts. but while a solo debut may have seemed appealing to most idols in this industry, the idea filled silver with disdain.

" but — "

she interrupted the creative director's spiel with a shake of her head. unapologetic, the blonde pushed the mock-up article of the solo announcement away from her and back towards the suits sitting across from her. their expressions ranged from displeasure to shock, and neither fazed silver much. " just like i said last year, and the year before, i'm not interested. "

" eunhae-yah. " her manager attempted gently, knowing better than anyone how short her temper could be. " just hear them out. "

silver said nothing, which the suits took as a reluctant opening. the marketing analyst immediately dived in. " umeko's debut was such a financial and public success. "

yeah and she hated every second of it, she thought.

" — it attracted more fans to flora, and left people wanting more from her, nari, and yourself. right now, your brand ambassador duties are your only solo activities outside of the group. we think this is the perfect time to usher in more. "

the creative director chimed in: " we did some testing with focal groups and dahlias across the board voted that 'fancy' and 'feel special' as their favorite eras for you. with that in mind, we found a few demos in a similar vein that would be great for a solo debut. we can play them for you, if you'd like. "

" yeah, absolutely not. " her shoulders were tense, and a bitter taste grew in her mouth. of all the songs they could have picked, of course they picked the two title tracks from the worst period of her life. it was pretty fucking ironic that dahlias loved it so much when she spent every day after promotions, forcing herself not to cry to sleep. hearing the suits now was all the confirmation she needed — she was right to say no to this. they didn't actually want music from her; the wanted music from the image they tried to force onto her since the very beginning. fuck no.

she knew her defiance infuriated the higher-ups. this was usually the part of the meeting when they would throw around thinly-veiled threats or attempts of coercion to get their way. it may have been enough to scare an idol who was desperate enough to do anything to keep their career in this industry. but silver wasn't one of them. best case scenario, they retaliated by giving her less to do. great. she wanted to do the bare minimum anyways. she'd learned a long time ago that she held the power, not the company. they tried to so hard to convince her otherwise, but silver knew the truth: they needed her more than she would ever need them. that meant she was unshakeable.

" well, if that's all. . . " silver drawled out in an icy tone, reaching for her fendi bag in the chair next to her.

" what can we do to convince you ? "

now, that was new. silver was used to their demands and expectations, constantly battling against the assumption that they can control her. they'd never once asked her. just told her. this time though, she could hear the desperation clear in their voices. it was enough to intrigue the leader. warily, she dropped her purse back down and eyed the suits across the table, folding her arms over her distressed crop tee.

" what are you offering ? " silver inquired with a raise in her eyebrow.

" we'll let you pick what demo you like the most. "

" no. " that wasn't a good deal when she didn't even like the vibe that the demos were based off of. that already happened to yumi, and she'd be damned if she went the same route. " i want to pick my own concept, for starters. "

" but the ideal concept has been tested on— "

with a roll of her eyes, silver grabbed her bag again. she knew this would be pointless and her patience was already gone. the half-assed negotiating was over in her head.

" wait. wait. " one of them cut in before she could get up. " fine. you can choose the concept. does that mean you're saying yes ? "

" i said for starters. " silver retorted slowly, as if she was talking to a toddler. " i pick the songs, i pick any collaborations. you all can be in charge of the styling, branding, choreography, and promotional scheduling, but i want a first look on everything. if i don't like it, i'm not doing it. "

she watched the looks exchanged between the higher-ups, clearly weighing the options heavily. as different pairs of eyes glanced up in her direction, silver knew not to look away. this wasn't about establishing a boundary; this was about establishing who was in charge here. after a long beat of silence, the creative director sighed. " that. . . sounds reasonable. "

no shit, asshole. silver surprisingly bit her tongue in time. the annoyance was clear in her face, though. of course the company would act like they were doing her a favor by allowing her to do what she wanted with her voice, with her body.

" fine. i'll do it then. " sliding the purse onto her shoulder, silver grabbed her sunglasses on the table and pushed them onto her face. silently, she gestured at her manager to signal that she was ready to leave. she barely paid mind to the relieved and happy expressions on the suits' faces.

" so do we have approval to release this article ? "

" not until i get everything i've asked for in writing. " the leader replied bluntly as she adjusted the shades. she wasn't stupid. the last thing she needed was to have them go back on their word the moment the news was out. with a bored toss of her hair, she headed for the door. her manager was quick to follow after her to hold the door open. " when i do, then you can. "

" we'll have it to you by the end of the day. thank you. " the head of public relations assured. detecting that the conversation had come to an end, a few of the suits stood from the table to bow in gratitude. silver would have relished in it if she wasn't processing one thing:

what the fuck did i just agree to ?

#a diff kind of format for a self para but kdjdkjd #hehe #꒰ ♡ ꒱ self para ╱ silver ◞#꒰ ♡ ꒱ career ╱ silver ◞

3 notes · View notes

defeatsthem · 9 months

Note

“📔” FOR MJSEFF I AINT EVER SENT SOMETHING SO FAST

TW for anyone that might read this, as this extremely dark au has already been discussed with @twotonesoffun. Read this with the utmost caution.

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: depression, suicidal thoughts and ideation

This takes place after Max's surgery and beyond. All he could do with his free time was mull over every stupid thing he'd ever done or said in his life.

Day 1:

Yesterday you left. I don't blame you for it one bit. You should've left. Matter of fact, you shouldn't have ever even shown up at the hospital at all. I keep staring at the bottle, the temptation to grab a fistful of pills and just end it right here is so tempting without you here. This house is so bare and I never realized how empty it was until your laughter wasn't here to fill it.

Day 13:

Thirteen days post-surgery. My knee still hurts like a fucking bitch. I won't lie, the worst part isn't getting out of bed by myself or having to resort to an in-house nurse in the meantime to take care of me now. It's humiliating. My fingertip keeps hovering over your name in my contacts, wanting to send a message but I don't dare to. Instead, I just open the video of me fucking that blonde woman to remind myself why I hate myself. Still, the temptation to take all those leftover painkillers lingers. I dunno why I haven't done it yet.

Day 42:

Physical therapy is getting easier, I guess. I can finally get off crutches in a few weeks but... whatever. It's been three weeks since the New Year holiday came and went and I can't believe it's been nearly a year since Seth and I hooked up at that rest top for the first time. I still remember how he felt... how I felt. It's forever engrained in my brain no matter how many times I wanna just forget about him because I'm ninety - nine percent certain he's forgotten about me already. I really need to stop directing this journal to him so maybe with this entry, it'll force me to.

Day 99:

Fuck, I miss you. I almost sent a message to you today, asking you how you were as if you'd even fucking respond. I at least finally flushed the rest of my meds down the toilet finally. They were burning a hole in my chest every single fucking night sitting on my nightstand. It was hard to discard the only thing you'd ever race to see me for. Fuck, I'm writing about him again when I said I wouldn't.

Day 273:

Nine fucking months. I was told I'd be out for an entire year but I'm a damn machine apparently. The past nine months have been an absolute mindfuck, but weirdly enough, it was necessary. I had to be on the brink of killing myself to see what I really wanted out of life. All I want is for him to be by my side again. Luckily, after getting some insider knowledge, I was able to find out where RAW is tomorrow night. I'm gonna go see him again. I can't be caught by security or talent otherwise I'll be kicked out immediately and probably arrested for breaking and entering into his bus but... at this point? I don't have much else to lose.

Day 274:

I'm burning this motherfucking journal right away tomorrow regardless of what happens in the next couple of hours. No one can know I even did this shit or sounded like such a whiny teenager bitch, okay? I can hear his music playing and I'm watching the show, sipping back an IPA from his fridge. The same kind that was in there the first time we met. He never changed, did he? He shouldn't. I can also smell that body wash he loves lingering throughout this entire thing. I don't dare make a sound since his driver is right outside, mingling with the crew. [THREE HOURS LATER.] I can hear his music playing again. He must've done the dark match after the show. At least it gave me some more time to get mentally prepared to see him again. I feel nauseous. Maybe I shouldn't have come...this was so fucking dumb of me. Shit. I hear his voice outside... here goes nothing.

#* answered.#// would tag appropriately but i don't want this in max's tag lmfao

3 notes · View notes

clemelemelem · 1 year

Text

Montana University: Beginning British

(a/n: fun fact "maestramala" means bad teacher in spanish. it's actually 2 words but i'm pretending it's one so it sounds more like an actual name. also the character is based on an ACTUAL TEACHER i had. all the things i mention her doing are things she actually did)

It was the first day of classes, and I was headed to my Beginning British class, where we would learn the British language. I placed my backpack, which was twice my size, next to my seat and looked around the class. Suddenly, a familiar voice behind me said, “Hey, mind if I sit here?”

I turned around and saw a short, chubby slug man. He was wearing a really cute, soft sweater. I smiled at him. “Not at all,” I said, and he sat down, the chair making a squelch sound as his slimy flesh came into contact with it. He smelled like a forest, I noticed. Like dirt. I liked it.

We idly chatted about the class, when suddenly, the teacher burst into the room. I recognized her, and my heart filled with dread. An old woman, with messy, bleach-blonde hair dressed in a ratty floor-length green dress and cowboy boots. The class became silent immediately.

“Is that…” I began, terrified.

“Mrs. Maestramala?” Emerson asked. “Do you know her?”

I nodded. “She- she was my middle school Spanish teacher. She was crazy. She made us do a fashion show. She hit on the janitor. She also hit on the same kid she yelled at every day. She told us Utah was a country. She told us the European Union was a country. Sometimes she would get sexist out of nowhere. She was unhinged!”

“Oh God,” Emerson muttered. “She sounds terrible.”

“You have no idea-” But I was interrupted by Mrs. Maestramala.

“Quiet! Quiet! BE QUIET!!!” she screamed furiously. “You are the worst class I’ve ever had! I hate you all! Especially the slug, especially you- wait a minute, Clemelemelem? Is that you?”

Cold terror rushed through my veins as Emerson tensed at her words. “Y-yes?” I stuttered quietly. I never thought I would see her again. I thought I was done with this lunatic, and somehow she had come to Montana too? Her face filled up with a twisted grin. “Everyone! Class! This is Clemelemelem! She was my student in middle school! I lived in Michigan back then, but I lost my license to teach in Michigan, so I moved out here. And I saw Clemelemelem! Isn’t that great?” She seemed to have had one of her infamous mood swings, and now was excitedly talking to the class about me, then Michigan, then the Great Lakes, then the ocean, then various conspiracy theories. And then the class was over.

“Well, I learned absolutely zero British,” Emerson commented as we left class. “You were right. She’s insane.”

“I know, right?” I replied. “And that’s her on a good day.”

“She told us Finland was after us and it was only a matter of time.”

“Like I said, that was her on a good day. Usually she’s even worse.”

“Well, this semester is sure gonna be fun,” Emerson sighed. “At least I made a friend, though.” He grinned at me. As much as slugs could grin anyway. His feelers made a kind of semicircle.

I smiled back at him. “I did, too.”

#Montana University Romance #Welcome to Nowhere #mosquito

2 notes · View notes

criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

Text

Avoidance

masterlist

part two

Summary: Reader doesn’t know what she did to make Spencer hate her so much.

A/N: This fic is just a reminder that sub!Spencer lives rent free in my head at all times. Also, if anyone would like to be on a taglist for one shots like these, let me know! I’m going to work on getting one started.

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom! reader

Content Warnings: honestly way too much swearing, sexual harassment, slapping, hands free orgasm, oral sex (male and female receiving), hand job, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, femdom

Word Count: 8.2k

I have absolutely no idea what I’ve done to make Spencer Reid hate me.

Usually, when someone despises a person to the point of complete and total avoidance, there’s a reason. No one just wakes up and decides to resent another person for the hell of it – right? Wrong.

Because Spencer Reid positively loathes me – and I have no idea why.

It all started on my first day at the BAU. I had somehow landed the highly coveted job of media liaison after the previous one had decided to complete the training to be a profiler. For reasons unbeknownst to me, they thought a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college with no prior job experience was the best fit for the position. I didn’t understand it, but I also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

To say that I had been terrified the first time I set foot into the bullpen would be the understatement of the century. After a very formal and very intimidating orientation with the unit chief, my predecessor, a beautiful blonde named Jennifer, offered herself up to be my personal tour guide. Jennifer introduced me to the other members of the team, and with every smiling face I came in contact with, my fears of being the odd man out were assuaged. I could tell that Penelope Garcia, tech analyst extraordinaire, would most likely be my biggest ally – and it was abundantly clear that Derek Morgan and I would probably get into a fair amount of mischief together. Elle Greenaway seemed like the obvious choice for a future drinking buddy, and Jason Gideon – well, he merely grunted at me in acknowledgment before retreating back to his office. I figured three out of four wasn’t so bad.

I didn’t meet Doctor Spencer Reid until after lunch. Jennifer mentioned something about him guest lecturing at a local university, which surprised me considering she mentioned him being a year younger than me. Apparently, the kid was an actual genius, which was more than a little bit intimidating, but Jennifer assured me that Spencer was a sweetheart.

“He’s a little quirky, but I’m sure you’ll love him. Just don’t be surprised if he tries to talk your ear off,” Jennifer laughs. “Last week I asked him about the weather and he went off on a tangent about climate change that lasted nearly an hour.”

By the time Spencer strolled into the bullpen at exactly one in the evening, I was sitting perched atop Jennifer’s desk, thoroughly engrossed as she told me about their latest case. When she stops talking midsentence in favor of smiling at someone behind me, I half expect that Morgan is attempting to sneak up on me, when:

“Hey, look who’s back,” Jennifer greets, prompting me to turn around excitedly. I was eager to put a face to the man I’d heard so much about.

And when I turn, my eyes land on the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.

Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline are framed by shaggy brown hair, complete with beautiful brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. As if his good looks weren’t enough, he’s dressed in the most adorably nerdy sweater vest and a pair of thin framed glasses. He’s absolutely precious – a fact that Jennifer had conveniently left out.

“How was the lecture?” Jennifer asks him as he places his satchel on the desk adjacent to hers. Spencer perks up at this, smiling excitedly from across the divider.

“I think it went really good, actually. I incorporated this really cool joke that I heard about quantum physics. Do you want to-”

He stops abruptly when he realizes Jennifer isn’t his only spectator, and those lovely brown eyes go almost comically wide when they settle on me.

“Spencer, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the new media liaison. Y/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

I give him my best smile, tacking on a small wave for good measure.

“It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Reid. Jennifer’s told me a lot about you.”

“Uh, y-yeah. It’s n-nice to meet you, too,” Spencer stutters. He looks positively stricken and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t blinked in over a minute. I cast a glance at Jennifer, who seems just as confused as I am.

Well, she had mentioned that he was a tad strange.

“I’d like to hear the joke,” I offer, only to immediately regret it when I see him tense up.

“N-No, that’s o-okay,” he chokes out as he struggles to gather the files on his desk. “It’s n-not that good, anyways.”

And just as quickly as he came, Spencer leaves in a flurry of crumpled papers, leaving Jennifer and I wondering what the fuck just happened.

Things didn’t get better with time. In fact, they got much worse.

In the six months that I had been working for the BAU, I could count my interactions with Spencer Reid on one hand. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part – in my desperation to figure out what I’d done to make him avoid me, I sought out the young genius every chance I got. But every time I got within ten feet of him, it’s like an alarm would sound in his head and he’d make up some excuse to leave the room.

The others had noticed his strange behavior, too. It seemed they all had made a sort of game out of it – calling Spencer into rooms that I was in just to see him panic, or asking me to personally deliver files to his desk. At first, I played into it, hoping that their teasing would help to diffuse some of the tension.

After a month of being on the receiving end of Spencer’s cold shoulder, I started avoiding him, too.

I tried to act indifferent – like it didn’t hurt me as badly as it did. I no longer sought him out, and by month two, we had a sort of understanding. I didn’t go near him, and he didn’t go near me, and that’s how it went on for four miserable months.

Until today.

“Reid, Y/L/N, you’re in 202.”

I damn near drop my bag on the floor. This was bound to happen at some point or another, but I hadn’t planned on that day being today, and I was not prepared. After nine hours of running around the local police department, my body was weighed down from fatigue and I was downright grumpy. Not to mention I had picked the worst possible day to try and break in a new pair of heels, and my feet were throbbing.

Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with Spencer Reid’s bullshit.

“Uh, Hotch? Could I maybe room with Elle?” I ask, sending a glare in Morgan’s direction when he snorts out a laugh. Hotch raises an eyebrow at me.

“Why? Is there a problem?”

Yes, sir, there certainly is. And your guess is as good as mine as to what that problem is.

“No, but I just think that-”

“Good. Then you should be fine to share a room with him.”

Right.

I spare a brief glance at Spencer, who, in the last thirty seconds, has turned the color of a tomato. I pray that he’ll speak up and voice his discomfort, but just like always, he stays silent.

Hotch doles out the room keys and I begin the trek down the hallway, my poor aching feet groaning in protest with every step. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, and it’s not until I swipe the key into the key card that Spencer speaks.

But not to me – no, never to me.

“Derek, please, I’m begging you. Just switch with me this one time, and – and I’ll do your reports for a month!”

After six months of dealing with Spencer’s aversion to me, his words should come as no surprise. And really, I’d expected as much - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“Not happening, kid. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get over whatever problem you have with Y/N. I bet you’ll even end up liking her. She’s not going to be rude to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“… T-That’s not what I’m worried abo-”

I don’t wait around to hear the rest of his sentence. I push open the door to the room, not bothering to wait for Spencer before closing it. I kick off my heels as soon as the door clicks shut, letting out a half relieved, half frustrated groan.

After claiming the bed nearest the air conditioner as my own, I pluck my pajamas and toiletry bag out from my suitcase and shuffle over to the bathroom. The way I see it, the quicker I get a shower and can go to sleep, the faster the night will pass. Before I know it, this unfortunate situation will be a thing of the past.

After drawing out the shower for as long as I possibly could, I exit the bathroom clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, hair dripping wet and skin freshly scrubbed clean. Spencer’s sitting on his bed, book in hand and tie loosened. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk by - not that I’d expected him to. A thick silence hangs in the air as I pull a bottle of lotion out from my suitcase, and I debate turning on the TV just to make things slightly less awkward. In the end I decide against it, because I doubt even that could make this situation better.

I prop a leg up on the bed and begin to lather my legs in cherry scented lotion, paying special care to my aching feet before moving on. It’s not until both of my legs have been thoroughly massaged and coated in lotion that I look up.

Spencer’s eyes are locked on me, mouth hanging open and chest heaving up and down. His knuckles are white from how hard they’re clutching the book in his hands, but despite that I can still see the way they’re trembling. When he realizes I've caught him staring, he closes his mouth and gulps hard.

I straighten up and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, and that’s enough for Spencer to snap his book shut and scramble off of the bed. He’s clumsy as he moves to his suitcase, dropping his bottle of travel shampoo twice before he reaches the bathroom. If I wasn’t so off put by whatever the hell had just happened, I might have thought it cute.

As if the universe thought my current predicament wasn’t enough to deal with, the next morning I was dealt another shitty hand. This time, my distress came in the form of a young cop who couldn’t pick up on social cues to save his life. After an entire morning of dodging sleazy advances, I finally managed to shake him when his superior sent him out to go and actually do his fucking job.

Or so I thought.

I’m standing in the breakroom, pouring my fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee when I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall. I don’t know if I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things, or if I’m just particularly on edge today, but I know it’s the young officer before he can even cross the threshold.

And when he does, and he sees that he has me cornered, a saccharine smile stretches across his lips.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawls in an accent that could probably be attractive if he wasn’t so damn skeevy.

“Might wanna get your eyes checked,” I mutter, refusing to look in his direction as I stir my coffee.

“Pretty and feisty. Just how I like my women.”

“I am not your anything,” I seethe, and instead of backing off like any respectful human being would, he just chuckles and begins to saunter towards me.

“C’mon baby, you don’t have to be that way. You don’t have to act all professional with me.”

“Don’t call me that.” I look at him now, and the smug, self-righteous smile on his face makes my blood boil.

“You don’t like baby? That’s fine – I’m sure I can think of lots of other things to call you,” he murmurs. He’s closer now, so close that I can practically feel his breath against my neck.

“I’m going to tell you to stop one more time, and it would be in your best interest to listen,” I growl.

“Or what?” he taunts. “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

I jolt forward when a hand comes down hard on my ass, squeezing me harshly through the material of my skirt.

Oh, fuck no.

I’m whirling around faster than I ever thought possible, and then a harsh crack sounds throughout the room as my hand comes in contact with his face.

My hand stings from the contact, but the pain is welcome because he flies backwards, stumbling and grasping as his already reddening cheek.

“What the fuck?” he roars, eyes flashing with unbridled fury. I take several steps towards him, and to my utmost delight he nearly trips over himself in his hurry to put distance between us. I stop when his back hits the wall and I lean in until our faces are only inches apart.

“Listen here, you limp dick fuck,” I snarl. “I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of pathetic pieces of shit like you thinking they can put their hands on women. What’s your problem? Are you so fucking tactless that you can’t get anyone to fuck you?” I punctuate my question by jabbing my pointer finger into his chest and cocking my head to the side. “Are you so unappealing that the only way you can get your hands on a woman is to wait until she’s alone and try to corner her?

Or is it a power thing? You’ve got the gun and the badge so you think you’re entitled to just take what you want, don’t you? You think no one can stop you because you’re in a position of power. Well, I have some news for you – I outrank you, and you just assaulted a federal agent. I will not stop until I ruin your fucking career, and if you even think of trying to lie your way out of this, I’ll do a helluva lot fucking worse. After the week I’m having, I am just looking for an excuse to kick your fucking dick into the dirt. Do you understand?”

By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving up and down and my eyes are narrowed into slits. The officer is so angry that he’s shaking, hands balled up to fists at his sides. For a moment, I think he’ll try to hit me, but then his hard-exterior cracks and the anger gives way to fear.

“You – You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, trying his best to sound menacing. But his voice wavers, and I can tell he’s losing his grip. “It’ll r-ruin my career.”

I raise my hand up to his cheek, placing my palm over the red imprint I had left on his skin. And then I flash him the sweetest goddamn smile that ever there was.

“I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

I give him a pat on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door, only to stop halfway when I see that I have an audience of one.

Spencer stands in the doorway, a coffee mug gripped tightly in one hand, mouth agape and eyes wide. He’s standing stock still, eyes darting in between the police officer and me. I let out an exasperated sigh because of-fucking-course it would be Spencer that would happen to walk in on whatever that just was.

“Close your mouth, Reid. That’s how you catch flies,” I deadpan, prompting Spencer to snap his mouth shut.

Without another word, I brush past him and leave the break room.

I suppose the universe had decided to finally give me a break, because that afternoon we were able to apprehend the unsub. But my good fortune only went so far, because Hotch announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning – which meant another night alone with Spencer Reid.

He didn’t mention what he walked in on when the two of us arrived back at our room, and I didn’t expect him to. The two of us went about the motions of unwinding from the day in complete and utter silence, and by the time I emerge from the shower I decide that I’ve had enough.

“I’m gonna go stay with Elle and Derek,” I murmur as I zip up my suitcase and slip on my shoes.

“Oh. O-Okay.”

And that was that.

It’s about an hour later when my phone is on four percent that I realize I hadn’t remembered to bring my charger with me. I contemplate just letting it die, but the idea of sitting through a seven-hour jet ride tomorrow without it sounds excruciating. Then again, so does the idea of having to suffer through an interaction with Spencer.

The phone wins out in the end, and with Derek and Elle still snoring softly in their respective beds, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. With any luck, Spencer will be in a similar state and I’ll be able to sneak in and out without him waking up.

I think thank my lucky stars when I slowly crack open the door to Spencer’s room and see that the lights are off. I take special care to close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing across the carpeted floors, feeling my way around in the dark so that I don’t trip over anything.

I make it halfway across the room when I hear it – it’s quiet, and if the air conditioner had been on, I wouldn’t have even heard it at all. It’s faint, so faint that I wonder if I’d imagined it, but then that same sound breaks through the silence and I know it’s not a product of my imagination.

I hear the covers rustle, and then a low moan followed by the distinct sound of skin on skin. My blood runs cold as the moans grow louder and more frequent, rolling off Spencer’s lips in rapid succession. There’s heavy breathing and whimpering and holy fuck I just walked in on Spencer Reid masturbating.

Spencer cries out a particularly load moan, one that sounds so pornographic that it shoots straight to my core. It’s sexy and dirty and he sounds absolutely wrecked, and the part of my brain that is still capable of logical thinking is screaming get out! Get out, now!

I begin to slowly backtrack, moving at one tenth of the speed that I had coming in because the possibility of being caught is absolutely not an option. If Spencer hates me now, he’d really hate me if he found out I snuck into his room at night and heard… that.

I’m about five feet away from the door when:

“O-Oh my God, yes! Y/N, please - fuck!”

I think then that I certainly have to be dreaming, because there’s no way I’d just heard him correctly. There’s no way that Spencer – the same Spencer that scurried out of the room when I walked in – was moaning my name while he touched himself. Absolutely not.

But then it happens again and again and again – my name falling from his lips incessantly like some kind of debauched chant.

It feels like my skin is on fire – my mind a befuddled mess – and before my brain can tell me what a terrible idea it is, my feet are carrying me back into the room and I’m coming to a stop at the foot of Spencer’s bed.

Bathed in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window, Spencer looks ethereal. There’s a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, and his usually meticulously slicked back hair is fanned out on the pillow like some sort of halo. His teeth are nestled into his bottom lip now, and all that can be heard are tiny whimpers as his hand slides up and down underneath the bed sheets. Spencer’s always beautiful, almost painfully so. But the way he looks now, shadows dancing across his face as he works himself to orgasm, is infinitely more breathtaking than words can express.

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to release his lip from beneath his teeth, and when he does my name is flying out of his mouth once more.

I take that as my invitation to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”

Spencer’s entire body stills and his eyes fly open to reveal two dark pools full of sheer panic.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, moving to clutch the comforter to his chest in an attempt to cover himself.

I let out a hum and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Please do. I’m very interested in hearing about just what you were picturing me doing.”

Spencer sucks in a harsh breath. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning -desperately trying to concoct some kind of reasonable explanation.

“I-I… I don’t… I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, and it’s so adorable how he’s squirming underneath my gaze that I decide to help him out.

“Was I sucking you off? Or were you fucking me?” I wonder aloud. He tries to hide it, thinking the covers will mask the way that his hips buck up, but I definitely see it.

“I-I…”

“Which was it, Spencer? Was I taking you down my throat or were you fucking my pussy? Or maybe I was coming undone on your face – was that it?”

Spencer lets out a low groan, and if my patience hadn’t been running so fucking thin, I probably would’ve left it at that. But after the hell he’d put me through for the last six months, I feel like he deserved to squirm a little.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Y-You were, um… r-riding me. And you s-slapped m-me.”

Oh.

This just got a lot more interesting.

I raise an eyebrow at him and I can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.

“So, you liked what you saw today, did you?”

Spencer nods so fervently that I have to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

“Words, baby. Use them.”

“I-I liked it. A lot.”

“Apparently so, seeing as you were moaning for it like a desperate little slut,” I breeze, my tone cool and indifferent. “Have you done this before, Doctor? Touched yourself to the thought of me, that is.”

“… Y-Yes. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to. It just kind of happened one night, and once I started, I couldn’t s-stop.”

I reach out a hand and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face, tucking it back behind his ear before continuing.

“Why the cold shoulder, then? And here I thought you hated me,” I muse, before pausing and cocking my head to the side. “Do you hate me, Doctor?” I ask, and just when I thought he couldn’t look more guilty, he proves me wrong.

“No! I just… couldn’t be around you. I felt so b-bad. You were so nice, and I was using you to g-get off,” Spencer explains. “I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not after picturing you… like that.”

I let out a sigh. Knowing that Spencer didn’t actually hate me for the last six months was a relief. Knowing that Spencer was secretly rubbing one out to me was something else entirely. Whatever was I to do with this information?

“So, you want to fuck me, then?” I reiterate. “Why not tell me this sooner?”

“The probability of you responding positively to me telling you that I, uh, m-masturbate to you was very l-low. And after what I saw today, I think I was wise for keeping that from you,” Spencer says, the last part coming out in a rush. I can’t help but let out a low laugh.

“Yes, but the guy that was coming on to me today wasn’t someone I find attractive. He was pompous and crass and pushy - and you, Doctor Reid, are none of those things.”

“R-Really? You think I’m attractive?”

I hum.

“Very much so, Doctor. But I’m afraid you may have waited too long, and now I don’t feel as inclined to be nice,” I murmur, allowing my hand to trail down from his shoulder to his collar bones before lightly grazing his nipple with my thumb.

“O-Oh my… God,” Spencer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers continue to dance across his skin.

“But then again, I don’t think you really want me to be nice to you. I think you want me to treat you like my little play thing.” I stop my hand just below his navel and I thumb across the light layer of hair that makes up his happy trail. “You want to be my dirty boy - don’t you, Doctor Reid?”

“P-Please,” Spencer chokes out, hips jerking up when I allow my thumb to graze a little lower.

“Please what?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan.

“Please, I-I want you to u-use me. However you want, just as l-long as you just do-don’t stop touching me,” he rambles. He’s shuddering underneath me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as my hand wanders lower and lower until I abruptly pull away. “W-Why did you stop?”

“Because I don’t think you deserve to be touched just yet. You’ve got six months to make up to me, after all. I think I want you on your knees for me first,” I say, and from the way his eyes seem to dilate even further, I don’t think he has any objections. “Are you familiar with the color system?”

Spencer nods.

“Green for good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop now.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“I… I’ve never really, uh. Done t-this.”

Oh. Oh.

I withdraw my hand from its place on his leg and Spencer lets out a distressed whine. “No, please! Don’t go. I’m not a complete virgin, I promise. I got a h-hand job once,” he argues. “And I think I’ve done enough, uh, research, and I really want to try to make you cum. I want to be good for you. Please let me try.”

Spencer looks like he’s about two seconds away from crying, and I can feel my argument dying before it even leaves my mouth.

“Oh, baby, I know you’d be so good,” I coo, and just like that Spencer’s leaning towards me, desperate to have the contact. I indulge him, placing my hand on his cheek, and he relaxes into the touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I’m not what anyone would call vanilla, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I trust you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” Spencer whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I feel my resolve crumbling.

“You’ll let me know if at any point you want to stop?”

“Yes. Absolutely!”

Enthusiastic little shit.

“Safe word?”

“Um… Tolstoy?”

I let out a snort.

“Alright, smarty pants. We’re going to start now, okay?”

“Yes, Miss,” Spencer pants out.

Fuck me running. He clearly has been doing his research.

“Get on your knees for me, baby. I wanna see just how eager to please you are,” I instruct as I stand up and shimmy out of my shorts. I discard my shirt, too, absentmindedly throwing it somewhere across the room. Spencer lets out a startled squeak when he sees that I’m now completely naked, aside from my underwear.

“Y-You’re so pretty,” Spencer breathes out. “Even better than I imagined.”

The sentiment tugs at my heart, really, it does, but I specifically requested that he get on his knees and he seems a lot more content to just sit and stare.

“On your knees,” I command, and Spencer jumps up almost comically fast.

“S-Sorry, Miss,” he apologizes as he lowers himself down. I seat myself on the edge of the bed and spread my legs for him.

“Don’t apologize, just do as I ask of you, okay baby?”

Spencer nods.

“C-Can I kiss you? Like on the lips first?” Spencer asks as he looks up at me with big doe eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, the image of Spencer Reid sitting in between my legs, cheeks flushed and chest rapidly rising and falling. I give Spencer a sweet smile and lean forward, and the excitement radiating off of him is practically palpable. He leans forward, too eager to wait for me to close the gap, and the action makes my chest swell in adoration.

Just as our lips are about to meet, I pause, and Spencer barely has the time to look confused before my palm connects with the side of his face. The moan it draws out of him is obscene and his hips jolt forward, desperate for some kind of friction. His dick rests painfully hard between his legs, flushed red with precum beading at the tip.

I waste no time in taking his chin in my hand and tilting his head upwards.

“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask him, voice sugary sweet, contrasting starkly with my actions.

“N-No, Miss. I’m sorry,” Spencer pants out. His hand twitches at his side and I can see how desperately he wants to touch himself, but his desire to please keeps him still.

“Then the answer is no. Maybe if you can prove to me that you aren’t completely incompetent at eating pussy, I’ll consider it,” I allow a moment for my words to sink in. “Color?”

“Green. So fucking green,” Spencer whines.

“Good boy,” I praise him, and the effects of my words are instantaneous. Spencer rests his cheek against the skin of my thigh and then he’s nuzzling his face against me in a silent plea for permission. After a moment, his pleas become a lot less silent.

“Wanna be your good boy - please let me,” Spencer begs as his nose brushes against my skin. “I want to make you feel good. S’all I ever think about, since the first time I saw you.”

His words send a jolt of pleasure to my core and I reward his brazen honesty with a tender smile and a nod.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

The words barely have time to leave my mouth before Spencer is reaching out and hooking a finger underneath the waistband of my panties. I raise up off the bed just enough for him to slide them down my legs, and before I even manage to settle back down onto the bed, Spencer literally dives in. He starts with one long lick, and by the time he reaches my clit he’s crying out lewd moans against me. The feel of the vibrations mixed with the feel of his mouth on me is maddening in the best possible way, and my eyelids threaten to flutter closed under the weight of my pleasure.

“Fuck, baby – you’re doing so good,” I sigh as I lift my hand up and card my fingers through his hair. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

Spencer’s movements stutter when he feels my hand tangle itself into his hair, and I let out a light chuckle. I grab hold of the roots and give an experimental tug. My actions cause his hips to jolt forward violently.

“O-Oh my…” Spencer keens, raising his glossy, lust filled eyes to mine. “H-Harder, please.”

I oblige, and Spencer lets out a particularly filthy groan before lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. His hands come to wrap around my thighs and he pulls me closer to him, causing me to let out a gasp when his nose nudges against my clit. The sound only spurs him on further – Spencer begins assaulting my clit, alternating between short, kitten licks and light sucking. The control I had so adamantly been asserting over him began to slip from my fingertips the longer he worked his mouth against me, and quiet, breathy moans started falling from my lips.

“Such a good boy, Spence,” I moan as I scratch my fingernails against his scalp. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Love that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Spencer thrives on the praise – that much is made obvious by the way he whimpers and tightens his grip on my thighs. He’s completely submitted himself to the act of getting me off, only stopping long enough to cry out when my hands give a particularly harsh tug on his hair.

“Add a finger, baby,” I tell him, allowing my hand to drift down the side of his face, caressing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Spencer releases my thigh from his hold and tentatively raises a hand to my entrance, eyes raising to meet mine.

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” he asks, and his concern is so endearing that I tilt his chin upwards and lean forward until my lips meet his.

Spencer gasps into the kiss, shocked, but it doesn’t take him long before his lips are moving against mine fervently. His lips are slick with my arousal, and I dart my tongue out just long enough to swipe it across his bottom lip.

“D’you like how I taste, baby?” I murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly when Spencer tries to bring his lips down against mine.

“S-So much,” he whispers, before letting out a frustrated groan when I tease him with the slightest brush of my lips before pulling away again. “P-Please, kiss me again.”

I bump my nose against his before I reach down and grab his hand in mine.

“Don’t be a greedy boy, Spencer. Greedy boys don’t get to cum,” I chastise him as I raise his hand up to my mouth. I trace my bottom lip with his pointer finger as Spencer watches on in rapt fascination, before taking the digit into my mouth and sucking. Spencer chokes out a pathetic cry and his hips hopelessly buck into the air as I swirl my tongue around the pad of his finger, taking special care to coat it with spit before releasing it from my mouth.

I guide his hand back down to my pussy, gasping when the tip of his finger brushes across my entrance.

“Just take it slow, baby. Start with one and move up to two once you get the hang of it.”

Spencer nods, eyes alternating between my face and my entrance as he slowly slides his finger in me.

“You’re so warm, oh my God,” Spencer breathes out, tentatively pulling out his finger before inserting it back in. I hum appreciatively as he begins to move faster, eyelids fluttering shut when he lowers his head and begins languidly licking my clit.

“Feels so nice, Spence. I fucking love your fingers. Knew that they’d feel like this. I can only imagine how good your cock will feel,” I ramble, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other tugging on his honey brown hair.

I groan as he inserts a second finger, reveling in the way he’s stretching me out.

“Curl your fingers when you – fuck! Just like that, baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep doing t-that.”

Spencer speeds up both the onslaught of his fingers and his mouth at my admission, tongue working figure eights on my clit while his fingers brush up against my g-spot. A familiar warmth starts to spread in my lower belly, and with every swipe of Spencer’s tongue against my clit, the coil in my stomach winds tighter and tighter until, finally:

“O-Oh, fuck, Spence!”

The coil snaps, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my core. I can feel the way my walls tighten around Spencer’s fingers as my orgasm rips through me, never stopping their ministrations in an attempt to help me ride out my high. Vibrations ripple across my clit when Spencer lets out a cry of his own before his movements halt completely as shudders wrack his body.

I know he didn’t just…

I allow myself a moment to recover before I lean forward and drag my eyes down Spencer’s slender frame – and sure enough, his tummy is covered in white ropes of cum and his now softening cock is hanging limply between his legs.

Spencer’s eyes reluctantly open when his shudders cease, and one look at my pissy expression is enough to send him into a fit.

“I-I didn’t mean to cum! I’m so sorry, Miss. It’s j-just that you looked so pretty when you came, and you taste so good! And you were pulling my hair, and you called me a good boy and I just couldn’t do it anymo-”

“Shut up,” I seethe, voice cold and laced with annoyance. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to come. Am I mistaken?” “N-No, Miss.”

“Mm, that’s what I thought,” I hum. “Stand up.”

“B-But I want to make you cum again! Can I plea-”

“Shut the fuck up and stand up, Spencer.”

Spencer rushes to his feet, stumbling a bit when his legs begin to shake. He corrects himself, standing perfectly still in front of me with a shameful look on his face. I scoot back on the bed and fix him with a stony look.

“I want you to lay on your stomach across my lap. Can you do that, Doctor Reid, or are you too stupid to follow simple directions?”

Spencer adamantly shakes his head, scrambling to splay out across my bare thighs. Once he’s comfortable, I raise a palm to his bare ass cheek and smooth my hand across the skin.

“Color?”

“G-Green,” Spencer stutters out.

“Wonderful. Since you’ve decided to be a greedy little slut and cum before I gave you permission, I’m going to punish you. Do you remember your safe word, baby?”

“Tolstoy.”

“Good boy. I’m going to give you ten, and I want you to count them out for me. One for every month you held out on me, and four because you’re an insolent little whore who can’t do as he’s told. Does that sound fair to you?”

“Y-Yes, Miss. P-Please.”

A harsh smack sounds throughout the room, and Spencer lets out a whorish moan that’s bound to wake the people in the neighboring rooms. The pale skin of his ass transforms to red, and I rub my palm across it soothingly.

“O-One,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as he rocks his hips against my legs.

“You okay, baby?”

“Y-Yes, Miss. Please don’t stop. I deserve it. P-Punish me, please.”

My palm comes down across his ass four more times, and with each strike I watch Spencer fall apart right before my eyes. Tears are gliding down his flushed cheeks, and his cock is now painfully hard against my legs.

“Five more to go, baby. Keep counting for me, my pretty boy.”

By the time my hand comes down against his flesh for the final time, Spencer has devolved into a mess of pathetic whimpers. His cock is smearing precum across my thighs as he rocks against me, and his ass is covered in a litany of bright red marks. Incomprehensible pleas are falling from his lips, and his hands are tightly fisted in the sheets.

I lean forward and place a gentle kiss to each of his battered cheeks.

“T-Thank you, Miss. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“You’re welcome, baby. Can you go lay in the center of the bed for me?”

Spencer gives a feeble nod and crawls to the center of the bed, carefully laying himself down and letting out a low hiss when his ass came in contact with the mattress.

I let him rest against the sheets before I roll over and settle in between his legs.

Spencer’s cock, painfully hard and leaking precum, sits against his belly. Spencer watches as I trace lithe fingers up his thigh, his chest rising and falling quickly as I get closer to where he demands my attention.

A garbled groan rips from his throat when my hand grasps his cock, and I have to place my other hand on his hip and force him back down onto the bed when he tries to buck up.

“Stay still, baby,” I tut as I drag my fist up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

“S-Sorry, M-Miss,” Spencer stutters. His brows are drawn together and his eyes are heavy lidded. “Need m-more, please.”

“Mm, I don’t think you need more. You just want more. Dumb little greedy baby,” I tease as my thumb swipes across his head.

“Oh… G-God, please!” Spencer mewls.

“Is what I’m giving you not good enough?”

“N-No, it’s just-”

I raise an eyebrow at him and halt my movements.

“No, it isn’t good enough?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan and his fists clench the sheets.

“P-Please, Miss! I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Just let me cum, please, I want it so bad!”

Thoroughly pleased by his shameless begging, I start moving my hand again.

“Let me know when you’re about to cum, baby.”

That moment comes when, not thirty seconds later, the muscles in Spencer’s abdomen start to spasm – telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Spencer is so lost in the way my hand is moving against his cock that he makes no move to warn me, and just as I see his eyes start to flutter shut, I withdraw my hand.

“W-Why did yo-”

“You didn’t tell me you were about to cum. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy, Spencer? You sure aren’t acting like someone who wants to cum.”

“S-Sorry, please, just… fuck!”

Spencer’s whole-body folds in on itself when my mouth wraps around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered before I pull away.

“You’ve got such a pretty cock, baby. Can’t believe nobody’s had you in their mouth yet,” I murmur, pausing to drag my tongue along the veiny underside of his erection. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna know how much you like when I use my mouth on you.”

“Love it so much, oh God… Feels so warm and wet. Thank you so much, Miss. God, it feels perfect,” Spencer keens as I take him into my mouth again. Mumbled praises fall from his lips as I take him deeper, and the second my nose hits the soft skin of his belly, Spencer’s hand comes up and begins to tap incessantly on my shoulder.

“S-Stop! I-I’m close – Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking close and I really want to cum inside you, i-if that’s okay with you,” Spencer babbles, eyes wide and pleading. I smile up at him.

“Do you think you deserve to cum in my pussy?”

“H-Honestly, no, but I’m hoping you’ll let me anyways,” Spencer says, shooting me an adorably shy smile that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I let out a light laugh and shake my head, moving to straddle his lap.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Spence?” I murmur as I caress the side of his face with my hands. “This can stop right here, if you want it to.”

“Please, Miss. I want this. I want you,” Spencer reiterates, eyes shining and filled to the brim with adoration.

“Want you, too, baby. You can call me my name now, if you want,” I say as I place a gentle kiss on his lips. I move to pull away, but Spencer’s hand is quick to grasp the back of my neck and pull me back in.

While our lips move together, frenzied and desperate, I sneak a hand in between our bodies and grab Spencer’s cock. He gasps into my mouth as I drag his head in between my folds.

“I-I won’t last long,” Spencer chokes out, eyes trained on where I’m rubbing him against me. “I’ll try my b-best, but I’m sorry if I c-cum too fast.”

I sink down just enough that his head is the only thing inside me, watching as his face contorts beautifully as a result.

“Don’t worry about me, baby. Tonight’s all about you.”

With one last, chaste kiss to his lips, I slowly begin to lower myself down onto his length. The sound of our moans fill the room as Spencer clings desperately to me, hands finally finding purchase on my hips.

“Y/N, fuck, you feel so good,” Spencer whimpers as I begin to slowly rock against him. “I-I knew it would feel good, but oh my God. I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum, soon. M’so sorry.”

His admission prompts me to move faster, raising my hips until he’s almost completely out of me before I’m slamming back down.

“Spence, you feel so good. Such a good boy – my good boy.”

“Yes, yes, I’m all yours! Only yours, please!” Spencer whines. I lean forward, and the change of angle is enough for both of us to cry out.

“Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me, Spence?” I murmur into his ear, biting lightly against his earlobe. “I want you to cum in me, baby. Don’t you want to be my good boy?” I punctuate my words by lightly wrapping my hand around this throat and squeezing, and that’s all it takes for Spencer to completely fall apart underneath me.

“Y/N - fuck!”

Spencer’s grip on my hips tightens as he bucks up into me, painting the inside of my pussy with his cum as he yells out strangled exclamations of my name. He presses his face into my shoulder as I ride him through his orgasm, whispering quiet thank yous and pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin as the euphoria floods through his body.

I place a kiss to his forehead before I crawl off of him, having every intention of getting up and procuring a wet washrag. But Spencer reaches out to grip my arm, and his eyes look so sad that I stop in my tracks.

“C-Can you stay? Please?”

The insecurity in his voice tugs at my heart.

“Of course, I’m staying. Was just gonna get a wet washrag for us. M’not gonna leave you, Spence,” I murmur. Spencer visibly untenses, but his grip on my arm doesn’t lessen.

“Could you just stay here a little bit longer?”

“Sure thing, baby,” I say, prompting Spencer’s lips to pull up into a pleased smile. I crawl back into the bed and lay on my back, and Spencer instantly plasters himself to my side. He hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around me, and I let out a light laugh when I catch him stealing glances at me.

“What is it, baby?”

A rosy blush spreads across his cheeks.

“Can I kiss you?”

After everything we just did, he still feels the need to ask permission to kiss me. What a sweet boy.

My answer comes in the form of me pressing my lips to his, and that’s how we stay until he pulls away.

“I have another question,” he says shyly.

“Lay it on me, baby.”

The blush on his cheeks gets significantly more pronounced.

“It’s just that, uh, you didn’t get to cum again. And I really want you to, because you took such good care of me,” Spencer pauses, and his fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh. “C-Could I please eat you out again?” Another pause, and he retracts his hand. “I-It’s okay if not. I understand if you just wanted this to be… a one-time thing. I guess I was just kind of hoping that it w-wouldn’t be. But that’s silly – you were just doing me a favor. I’m sorry I asked.”

Spencer cringes as he finishes speaking, not even giving me a chance to reply before he’s trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his arm, and Spencer gives me a weary look.

“First of all, I don’t think I would ever say no to being eaten out – especially if you’re the one offering. Second, this is definitely not a one off. I have lots of plans for you, pretty boy,” I explain, and the relief that radiates off of Spencer is almost palpable.

“Thank God,” he sighs, and then he’s scooting down the bed and settling in between my legs.

And if the rest of the team notices the way Spencer starts following me around like a lost puppy - well, they’re all kind enough not to point it out.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer #dom!reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #smut #dom/sub #sub spence

4K notes · View notes

dameronology · 3 years

Text

you have my number {bucky barnes x reader}

summary: bucky barnes' memory is a little selective, thanks to all the brainwashing - but one thing he'll never forget is his love for you, even if you're a complete & utter pain in the ass. his ass. (based on deja vu by olivia rodigro)

^even tho this fic refers to bucky as having a new gf, the reader is still g.n :)

this is spoiler free! enjoyyy

- jazz xx

Your relationship with Bucky Barnes had been nothing short of a train wreck.

And frankly, that was putting it nicely.

It had been a short & passionate affair; intense and sweet and filled with so much emotion in such high concentrations that you'd both almost drowned in it. For every euphoric moment, there had been one so low that you'd scraped your knees on the ground. Climbing a ladder to heaven whilst simultaneously digging your own graves had taken its toll on you both, and eventually, you had no choice but to go your separate ways. It had been for your own sanity, really.

So there he was, tucked away in a neat little box in your brain, labelled don't touch, ever. Even when you were completely wasted, surrounded by your friends and their respective lovers, you never dared to venture back down that particular memory lane. Forgetting all the bad parts and selectively remembering the good parts was easy enough to do, but you had the common sense to remember why you'd broken up in the first place. Because Bucky Barnes, despite being easy on the eyes and having a charming sense of humour, was a pain in your fucking ass. He managed to press every one of your buttons without even trying and his ability to bring out the best in you was completely and entirely wiped out by his tendency to bring out the worst. That wasn't even getting started on his emotional hold-ups; a can of worms neither of you had dared to open until it became the very reason for your demise.

Six months had passed, and you'd managed to expertly avoid him. You worked different missions and Sam Wilson, god bless his sweet soul, went the extra mile to ensure your paths never crossed in a professional sense. On a personal level, however? That was a little more difficult. New York City felt a lot smaller after your break up. You found yourself occasionally ducking under your hood when you saw him on the F-train, or rushing to cross the road when you saw him coming towards you on the street.

That was when you had the whole city to lose yourself in; streets and shops and little food carts to distract yourself with should you need to. Being confined to the same room for a work party was a different story entirely, and one you didn't want to read. Yet, thanks to some insistence from your boss and a little grovelling from your colleagues, you found yourself rocking up to the former Avengers tower on a Friday night.

"So you do exist outside of your work uniform?" Sam Wilson greeted you with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah - nice to see you too, Wilson."

Despite your initial attempts to elbow him in the rips, he wrestled you off of him and pulled you into a tight hug. Sam was one of your favourite colleagues and oldest friends - he'd witnessed the rise and fall of your relationship with Bucky, and been there for you both during the break-up. That had been an exhausting few days, running between your respective apartments in an attempt to offer emotional support to you both.

"D'you want some champagne?" He asked.

"I'm good, but thank-"

You froze, eyes widening at the sight of James Barnes across the room. He looked quintessentially the same, bar for the fact his hair was a little longer and he had a fresh, pink scar under his left eye. Having ditched his usual attire for a black blazer, he looked good. Annoyingly so, in fact. It made you secretly grateful that you'd chosen to dress up a little more than usual too.

"- on second thoughts." You took the flute of champagne from Sam, also grabbing a shot of vodka from the same trey. It was gone in seconds.

"Need I ask?" Sam gave you a playful frown. His brown eyes followed your gaze over his shoulder, landing on the man you'd been staring at. "Ah. I need not."

"Sorry." You murmured. "We haven't actually spoken since, y'know."

"Since you had a break-up that made Ross and Rachel look good?"

"I don't think Bucky has ever seen Friends." You quipped.

"His loss." Sam shrugged. "You should talk to him."

"Nope." You snorted. "Absolutely not. I don't even know if he's moved on."

"Judging by the pretty blonde on his arm, I think he has," Sam replied. "Would you look at that! They're headed right for us."

That was a lot of information to process at once. You would have needed a week alone for your poor, tired brain to deal with the fact that Bucky had someone else on his arm, and a further three days to big yourself up enough to talk to him. Alas, that was not the case tonight. Instead, you had about five seconds between Sam finishing his sentence and your ex-boyfriend reaching you. It was just as well you found the energy within that timeframe to down your champagne.

You could see the woman on his arm clearer now. To give credit where credit was due, she stunning. She looked like the sort of girl who smelt of strawberries and Chanel, and grew her own vegetables on the fire escape. The kind of person you swore to be with every New Year that came, but quickly ditched after a week, returning to drinking coffee from the Starbucks under your apartment rather than going to the organic, vegan place a few blocks over. There was an ethereal glow about her and fuck. You were mad.

"Sam!" Bucky called out to his friend - for a minute, you thought he was ignoring you, before you realised he genuinely didn't recognise you. Your name rolled off his tongue with a tone of uncertainty, as though he was learning a new language and still learning how to pronounce things. "Wow. You look...different."

"So do you." You shot back. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Katie." He awkwardly smiled. "My...my girlfriend."

"It's nice to meet you." You forced an equally pained grin, taking her hand in a shake.

"How do you and Bucky know each other?" She asked.

"Work." Bucky quickly said. You thinned your eyes at him, almost in disbelief.

"So you're an Avenger like these two?" Katie asked, clearly not picking up on the tension. "That's so cool."

"Not in an official capacity." You replied. "But they'd be fucked without me."

The night only got longer from there, really.

There wasn't enough champagne in the world to help the void in your soul. It was a gaping wound that Bucky Barnes had both filled and widened - and tonight, he was doing the latter. It sounded as though him and Katie were having a grand ol' time of it. From the parts of the conversation that you'd actually bothered to listen to, you'd gathered that she'd arrived in New York from London just over three months ago. That meant she had a fucking accent. Of course she did. It made everything she said a thousand times more interesting.

"We were in Paris, in this little cafe. What was it called, babe? Maison de vie?"

"Maison de l'amour, doll." Bucky corrected her. It had only sounded right when he was calling you that.

Your eyes shot up from your drink, immediately staring daggers at them both. The slimy bastard. You had been the one to show him that place. You'd been in Paris for a mission, and after realising it was your four-month anniversary, you'd taken him there for pancakes. It had been a slow morning, filled with hazy eyes and pink skies, and it had ended with him dropping the L-bomb for the first time. The photo you'd taken of Bucky, sat beside a pile of pancakes the same size of him and with whipped cream on his chin, had been your phone background until the day you broke up.

"I've been there." You didn't break away from his gaze, holding cold blue eyes in a trance that he found to be almost suffocating.

"Oh, nice!" Katie beamed. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah." You sniffed. "The company was shit, though."

"Oh, man." She replied. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's not your fault." You gave her a sweet smile - to Bucky, it was a look of venom. "So, tell me more about your trip to Paris."

He quickly cleared his throat. "We didn't do much. Just a weekend getaway-"

"- are you forgetting that we saw Billy Joel?" Katie cut him off with a laugh. "The Billy Joel!"

"Right." It looked as though his mouth had gone completely dry.

"He told me he loved me for the first time to Uptown Girl-"

"-excuse me for a moment." You shoved your glass in her hand, before backing away from your little huddle.

Your brain was focused on getting away and only on getting away. The room suddenly felt a thousand times hotter, and a thousand times smaller too, as though the walls were closing in on you. Maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if they'd just collapsed around you and swallowed you fucking whole. Anything to get away from this situation.

Making a beeline for the balcony doors, you elbowed them open and stepped outside. The cold air of the rooftop gardens was a welcome contrast to the stuffy indoors, biting, night air hitting your face like an icy hug. The sounds of the city rung below you - sirens and yells and tourists - and tangled into the faint sound of the music, all parts of a world that your brain was working overtime to block out.

You focused on the city instead, using the bright lights of the surrounding buildings to anchor you to reality. None of it really even made sense - you were over Bucky. Had been for a long time. It was just the thought of him doing all the things that he'd done with you, with someone else. It made you feel a little bad for Katie, too.

"I was going to tell you about Billy Joel."

You glanced over your shoulder, giving a derivative snort. "Piss off, Bucky."

"I'm serious." He ignored your demand, cautiously approaching you.

"I brought you those tickets!" You turned around to face him. "We were meant to go together. Billy Joel was our thing."

"We broke up!' He reminded you. "Like I said, I was going to tell you that we went together-"

"- I don't care." You cut him off. "I genuinely don't care."

"That was a lot of storming off for someone who doesn't care."

"Okay, maybe I care a little bit." You huffed, taking a seat on a bench. "It's not even that you're with someone else, it's that you're doing all the things we did. The nicknames, the pancake place, the concert."

"I..." Bucky took a seat beside you, pondering for a moment.

"And declaring your love for someone to Uptown Girl is fucking weird." You muttered.

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Vienna, obviously."

"You're such a pain in the ass." Bucky replied. "But for what it's worth, I wasn't thinking of Katie in that moment."

You glanced up at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"D'you remember that morning when we were in New Orleans?" He asked. "And we had a few hours to kill before our flight, so you started dancing around the hotel room to Uptown Girl?"

"I remember." You softly smiled.

"That was when I realised I loved you." He admitted. "I was replaying that in my head at the concert, and it just kinda came out, and Katie heard."

"Damn." You muttered. "Sucks to be her, huh?"

"I like Katie." He said. "Truth be told, doll, I'm still stuck in the past a little bit. With you, and with what we had."

"We fucking hated each other by the end, Buck."

"I know, but I mean all the stuff before that." He explained. "You were the first person who saw me for who I am and not what I've done. The first person that actually made me feel loved and worthy."

"I do try."

He lightly elbowed you "I'm serious. I think I'm just projecting my longing for what we had onto my current relationship."

"You're being painfully honest tonight." You observed. "It's fucking weird."

"Who taught me to be painfully honest?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "So this is how Frankenstein felt when he created his monster."

"You're the worst," Bucky muttered. "I genuinely am sorry, though. I shouldn't be recycling our memories. I should make new ones.'

Dusting off your trousers, you stood up. "You're right."

"Thank you, though."

"For what?"

"For finding me first," He replied, "and for teaching me what love is."

"Well, if you ever need to be reminded? You have my number."

#why am i low key in love with katie?#i want a tall woman who smells of strawberries :(#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x gn!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers fluff #avengers angst #avengers imagines #avengers imagine #marvel imagines #marvel imagine

785 notes · View notes

nebulablakemurphy · 3 years

Text

Miss American Pie

Chapter Three: Bye Bye

Warning: This series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader relationship.

Summary: After freeing the widows from chemical subjugation and destroying the red room, you and Yelena finally settle down.

Part 1 & Part 2

The widows welcome you, the ones you trained with and the ones you didn’t. After Dreykov was gone and you had nothing but time. Melina and Alexei go to work on replicating the antidote. Creating enough to free all chemically subjugated agents.

It’ll take time. But the more you free the more are willing to help. Some of the widows just leave once they are given freedom. Ready to wash their hands of all of this and start living. You understand that more than anything. Eventually the operation is running on such a large scale they hardly need you at all.

Natasha hasn’t reached out since you separated after the red room. Probably off with the Avengers trying to save the world again. No one blames her, for her inability to be still. Not even Yelena.

“So,” you plop down on the couch beside Yelena. “What’s the plan now?”

“I don’t know.” She admits, staring up at the ceiling. “To be honest, I didn’t think I was going to make it this far.”

“Yeah.” You tug at a loose strand of her dirty blonde hair. “That makes two of us.”

“We could pretend to be normal.” Yelena offers. “What would a normal person do?”

“Don’t know,” you shrug. “I’ve never been one.”

“Maybe...settle down.” Yelena’s eyes are far away.

“Would you have wanted to-“ You break off, trying to sort out the words. “I mean if you could…would you have a baby?”

She raises her brows, “I never thought about it.” A long pause. “I wouldn’t know how to be a mother.”

Neither would you. You’ll never be right. Whatever that is, was, or might have been. Always a little too guarded and rough around the edges. “You never waste time thinking about things you can’t have.” You sink farther into the cushions, her pinky skates over your own. Taking the invitation you twine your fingers together.

“I thought about you.” She lowers her eyes to the coffee table. “Everyday. Until I couldn’t anymore.”

“I-“

“The red room took that from me too.”

You shake your head at her. “They can never take anything from you or anyone else ever again,” you whisper. “And to be clear you can have me.”

A laugh rumbles out of her chest at the news. “I can?”

“I mean if you still want me.” You tease, “I know that the chase is half the fun for you. So I can keep on running. I’m one foot out the door-“

“I am tired of running.” Yelena murmurs, curling up against your side.

“Me too.” Your chin rests atop her head.

“Then stop doing it!” She scolds, slapping your arm playfully in retaliation.

“I will if you will.” You know why she runs. The same reason you do. Because you’re afraid. That maybe some parts of you are too broken to love.

She mulls it over for a moment. “Truce. I don’t run. You don’t run.”

“Deal.” You give her fingers a squeeze.

“Except into the face of danger.” She clarifies, only half kidding. “Then we run, straight ahead.” Yelena motions with her free hand. “But together.”

“Together.” You agree, with a soft smile.

“We could get a dog.” The tone of her voice tells you that she is invested in the idea.

“I wouldn’t mind a dog.” You prop your feet up on the coffee table.

Yelena hates anything but a straight answer. Still feeling the need to convince you, she presents the facts. “Dogs are really cool! They have special powers.”

You chuckle, “dogs do not have powers.”

“Yes!” Yelena argues, “they can predict natural disasters and judge character.”

“That’s a special power?” You quip, “I can do that too.”

She grumbles under her breath.

“I want one.” You sigh. Feeling all the tension leave her body.

“I knew you did.” She smiles, contently.

———————————————————————

Dogs might have powers, but the only thing your puppy currently seems to posses is the ability to chew up anything in her path.

“Yelena have you seen my-“ you pause, taking in the scene before you, “shoes.”

“Don’t be angry,” Yelena holds up a hand.

The tiny puppy beside her squeaks, not quite a bark yet. Your demolished sneaker tumbling to the ground.

“What happened?” You run both hands over your face.

She sweeps the dog into her arms. “I told Fanny we could go for a walk once you got out of the shower. She was excited, Y/N! She was trying to bring your shoes to you. But she got distracted, only a little.”

“A little?” You can’t help but smile.

“Look at this face,” Yelena waves Fanny’s paw at you. “You can’t be mad at this face. Tell her girl. Say, you can’t be mad at me Mom, I’m trying my best.” She brings the dog closer.

You raise a hand to pet Fanny lightly. Yelena’s right of course, there is no being mad at that face. “Let me find a pair of shoes that isn’t mangled. Then we’ll go for a walk.”

“I’ll wait with Fanny.”

“Of course you will.” You retreat to your bedroom. Rummaging through the closet in search of some sort of footwear. You’d settle for slippers at this point. Fanny joins you after a moment. Nuzzling at your ankle as she whines.

It’s not everyday that she follows you, she is Yelena’s dog and never lets you forget it. “You’re really excited aren’t you?” More whining. You scoop Fanny up. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

You huff, finally locating a pair of sandals. Slipping them on quickly so you can return to Yelena and gloat about being Fanny’s favorite. “Hey baby, I don’t know what you did, but look.” You smile, gazing up as you present the dog…to an empty room. That’s odd. Maybe she’s waiting outside.

You grab the leash Yelena abandoned on the countertop, securing it to Fanny’s collar. “Come on girl. Let’s go find Mama. Where’s Mama?”

Fanny follows you out the door, onto the walkway.

“Yelena?”

Nothing.

You scan the area, no sign of her. “Ok…” Back into the house, you check the bathroom next.

“Yelena!” You shout, knowing you’ll feel stupid once she replies. But she doesn’t.

A buzzing from the cell phone in your back pocket draws your attention. You set Fanny down gently, accepting the call and moving the device up to your ear. “Alexei?”

“Y/N! Oh thank god!” His voice booms through the speaker.

“Are you ok?” You ask immediately. Leaning down to grab the television remote, turning to channel thirteen, still broadcasting it’s usual gameshow.

“I am alone.” He cries through the speaker. “Melina left me with her pigs.”

“What do you mean she left you?” Something is very wrong.

“She disappeared.” He says somberly, “didn’t even say goodbye. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” The dramatic monologue continues. “I give her back rub every night and then-“

“No,” you cut him off. “Absolutely not.” Under no circumstance is he going to tell you what happens next.

“I have made mistakes, but this! This is cruel.” Alexei, clearly distraught begins cursing in Russian.

“Alexei, I know you’re upset but I need you to listen.”

“What?” He asks. “What is it?”

“Yelena is gone too.” You inform him. Your eyes flicker over the words at the bottom of your tv screen. “People disappeared all over the world.”

You fall back onto the couch, feeling all the air leave your lungs.

More hysteria on the other end of the line. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m gonna find Natasha. Maybe she knows something.” Assuming that Natasha is still here.

“What about me?”

“Come to Ohio. You can dog sit.” You offer, familiar numbness seeps into your limbs.

“I have nine pigs!” Alexei shouts back.

“We have a backyard, don’t worry.” You hang up before he has a chance to argue.

You return to the call screen. Scrolling to find a different contact. Pressing the dial button beside her name.

It rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello.”

“Natasha,” you let out the breath you’ve been holding. “What the hell happened?”

——————————————————————

The Avengers fortress isn’t exactly how you imagined. Not very homey.

You park your car in the lot. Removing your keys from the ignition and stowing them in your back pocket. The clear rectangular keychain with a picture of you and Yelena inside sticks out. Clinking when you round the vehicle to retrieve Fanny from the passenger seat. “Come on, Fanny.”

She wags her tail, waiting expectantly to be carried.

“You’re spoiled, you know.” You sigh, taking the puppy into your arms and closing the door behind you.

The front gate is open but Natasha takes a moment to locate. She cut her hair up to her shoulders, dyed it blonde. “Hello stranger.”

“You got a dog.” She says, in greeting.

“Yeah.” You reply, not in the mood for small talk. “It was Yelena’s idea.”

“I knew she’d sucker you into that.”

“It’s not like she could make me do anything I didn’t want to.” Your finger slides along the edge of the metal table Natasha’s seated behind.

She barks a laugh, “that’s a lie.”

Maybe so. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“It’s not mine.”

“Still cool. I like the hair too,” you motion toward her blonde locks.

“That’s not really mine either, is it?” She remarks.

“Is anything ever really ours?”

“No.” She frowns. “I guess not.”

“What happened?” You ask again.

“It’s a long story,” Nat crosses both arms over her chest. “You might want to take a seat.”

You clear your throat, pulling out the chair beside her. Fanny curls up in your lap, curious eyes darting about every now and then. You tell yourself it’s because she’s in a new place, but part of you knows, she’s looking for Yelena.

Natasha stares down at her hands. “Have you ever heard of infinity stones?”

You shake your head. “Must be an avenger thing.”

“There were six of them, scattered all over the galaxy. If a person has all six they can use them in anyway they choose. Thanos, used them to eliminate half of all living creatures.”

“Are you the only one left?” You lean in.

“No.” She sniffs, blinking away tears. “There’s others.”

“So where are they?” The place looks abandoned. “Why aren’t you charging into battle?”

“Because we lost. Probably the worst we’ve ever lost.” Natasha clenches her jaw. “By the time we found Thanos again he already destroyed the stones.”

“We’ll try again.” You decide immediately. This isn’t over.

“Will we?” Natasha shakes her head with a smirk.

“If she was gone for good I would know it.” You tell her truthfully. “I would feel it, in my heart and I don’t.”

“You didn’t see it happen. I saw him snap his fingers and-“

You lay your hand over hers, squeezing tight.

“Did you see her go?” She asks, voice just above a whisper. “Yelena. Did you see her?”

“No.” You confess, “I didn’t see.”

Natasha closes her eyes. “That’s why you still have hope.”

“Look maybe you’re right.” You shrug, “even so, now seems like a really stupid time to give up.”

The corner of her mouth twitches. “What’s the dog’s name?”

“Fanny.” You inform her.

“Come on.” She rolls her blue eyes. “You’re kidding right? Tell me you didn’t actually name a dog after one of those stupid aliases Rick made me.”

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“I guess a dog’s better than a pig.” Natasha reasons. “Are they still here?”

“Not Melina.” You break the news quickly. Like tearing off a bandage. “But Alexei and all nine of her pigs are on their way to our house in Ohio.”

“Sounds crowded.”

“Always room for one more.”

——————————————————————

You stay like that for a long time. Hopeful. Sure that this was all some nightmare that you could wake up from; fight your way out of.

And then five years passed.

Now you come to see Natasha twice a month, just to check in. Alexei and his pigs have taken up permanent residency in the home you bought with Yelena. As for you, you bounce around. Never staying in one place too long.

“Any news?” You wonder, leaning against the doorframe of Natasha’s meeting room.

“No.” She bites out. Kicking her foot up on the desk. “You should move on.”

“Is that what you call this?” You flick your wrist in her direction. “Crying into a peanut butter sandwich.”

“It’s therapeutic.” She waves the bread at you. Tears welled up in her eyes. “You should try it sometime.”

“Nah.” You take a seat, reaching across to make a sandwich of your own. “It’s not the sandwich’s fault.”

“Am I interrupting the pity party?” Steve says, announcing his presence. Captain America is as self righteous as ever.

“Didn’t you grieve for a century over a girl you kissed one time?” You arch a brow at him, licking wayward peanut butter from the pad of your thumb. “Five years is just a drop in the bucket.”

Steve purses his lips, you have a point. “It wasn’t a century.”

“Close enough.” You mumble around a mouthful of your dinner.

“Want a bite?” Natasha offers half of her sandwich to him.

“No thanks.” He takes a step closer. “I’d offer to make you a real dinner, but already look pretty miserable. Where’s your dog?”

“Visiting her granddad.” Everyone and their mother loves that damn dog.

“Oh yeah, my great adversary.” How could he ever forget. “Is he still wearing that stupid suit?”

“I’m pretty sure the suits are stowed away. But it’s been a while since I’ve been there.” Your mind wanders to the vest. The one Natasha returned to you after Yelena was gone. The one you retired because it doesn’t smell like her anymore. Nothing does.

Most things remain untouched in the Ohio house. Your pictures. Your memories. Your plans. You can’t get rid of them. Can’t stomach being around them either.

Someone, a man, alerts the security cameras, pounding on the front door. “Hello? Is anyone home? Hello! Can you hear me?”

“How old is this video?” Steve asks, cocking his head to the side.

“It’s the front gate.” Natasha breathes, enlarging the image.

“Do we know him?” You squint at the man in question.

“It’s me, Scott Lang, Antman. I met you guys at the airport in Germany a few years ago. I had a mask on, you probably wouldn’t recognize me.” He rambles on.

Natasha presses the access panel, opening the gate.

You straighten yourselves out, before he makes it down the long hallway into the common room.

Scott paces, a lot. Nervously rubbing his hands together.

“Scott.” Steve finally cut in. “Are you ok?”

“Have any of you ever studied quantum physics?”

“Only to make conversation.” Nat says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ok. Alright so, five years ago. Right before Thanos. I was in the quantum realm. The quantum realm is like it’s own little microscopic universe. To get in there you have to be incredibly small. Hope, she’s my uh-“ he trails off. “She was my…she was- she was supposed to pull me out. And then Thanos happened and I got stuck in there.”

“I’m sorry that must have been a long five years.” Natasha apologies.

“That’s the thing, for me it wasn’t.” Scott replies. “It was five hours.”

“What a trip.” You snort, absently toying with your belt loop.

“The rules of time are different there. See everything is unpredictable.” He explains, getting distracted by the food in your hand. “Are you gonna finish that?”

“I guess not.” You hold it out to him.

He accepts, gratefully stuffing the bread into his mouth.

“Scott! What are you talking about?” Steve demands.

“So what I’m saying is time works differently in the quantum realm. The only problem is we don’t have a way to navigate it. But if we did, if we could somehow control the chaos; to enter the quantum realm at a certain point in time and exit at another point in time…like,” Scott locks eyes with you then. “Like before Thanos.”

You nod.

“Are you talking about a time machine?” Steve sighs, running a hand over his tense forehead.

“No. No of course not. Not like a time machine but like a…yeah.” There’s no other word for it. “Like a time machine. I know it’s crazy. But I can’t stop thinking about it! There gotta be some way.”

“Scott,” Natasha calls his attention. “I get emails from a raccoon. So nothing sounds crazy to me anymore.”

“So who do we talk to about this?” His eyes flicker between the three of you.

“Don’t look at me.” You hold both hands up. “That’s way above my pay grade.”

Part 4

Series Taglist: @3and30aresoultwins

#yelena belova x reader #marvel fanfiction #yelena belova #black widow #black widow fanfiction #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #yelena belova imagine

248 notes · View notes

lydiaisntfunny · 3 years

Text

how

johnny lawrence x reader

johnny finally does something about his feelings for you

idk why but every time i listen to this song i think of johnny so i wrote this with this song in mind...even though the song is about a break up...but this isn’t 😌✨

johnny’s eyes followed your figure as you made your way from his car and into your house, a smile creeping up on his face at the sight of you turning around and giving him a small wave, he did the same. he watched as you made your way inside, his eyes only pulling away at the sight of your door closing. he looked at the street ahead of him.

his body was telling him to drive; his hand was on the stick shift while the other one was on the wheel, but his mind was telling him otherwise. he couldn’t move. he didn’t want to. he looked down at the shift that his hand had a tight grip on. he thought of you. picturing it was your hand he had a tight hold on instead, imagining the way your soft skin would feel underneath his as he moved your hand with his to change gears. he thought about it every time he drove.

he thought about tonight. he thought about you. he thought about the feeling in his chest he would get whenever he would look at you while he was driving. the way the wind was blowing through your hair, the smile on your face as you laughed and sang along to whatever song was playing on the radio, he felt his heart start to race at the thought of it; the same way it always did when he thought of you. the same way it did whenever he was with you.

johnny knew he liked you, he knew it from the very moment he saw you walk into his third period class. it was like a scene from a movie, you walked into the room, greeted the teacher, looked around the room for a place to sit, your eyes met with his and he felt like his heart stopped. he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. it was intimidating.

it was no secret that johnny was popular among the girls at school. he knew girls liked him, it wasn’t like they didn’t make it obvious, always coming up to him and flirting with him. he liked the attention, as any guy would, so he reciprocated the comments he would receive, but he never reciprocated the feelings. he didn’t care for any of the girls that “cared” for him, the fact being, that he knew they didn’t care for him in the way he wanted, so he never went any further. however, because of his ego and the attention from the many girls at school, he was confident in himself and his ability to talk to girls; only to look at you for the first time and somehow lose all the confidence he thought he had.

his nervousness is what kept him from immediately going up to you and talking to you like he so desperately wanted to that first day. so he didn’t. and that’s how it was for the first month you entered his life. he watched you from afar, stealing quick glances at you throughout class, in the hallway, at lunch, in the courtyard before school began, feeling his breath get caught in his throat whenever you would make eye contact. it wasn’t until the teacher assigned a project, a project that involved a partner, where he was finally able to talk to you.

he watched as everyone got up and made their way towards each other. he also watched as you turned your head and looked around the classroom to see who you could work with, your eyes landing on him a couple of times before quickly turning away. it was like fate. it seemed as though this was the only class that both of you had that you didn’t have friends in, setting up the scene perfectly, you two being the only ones left. it was his chance to go up to you, but still, he couldn’t. it was you who eventually got up and asked to work with him, which he eagerly, and nervously, accepted.

ever since then you guys had been best friends. he immediately felt drawn to you. he thought you were sweet, and caring, and funny and extremely pretty, obviously. you had similar interests as him, which excited him. he also found that you were someone he could talk to. of course he could talk to his guys about anything, but you were different. you always listened to him when he needed you to, even though he wasn’t the best at expressing his feelings, but you always helped him try, you made it easy. you were someone he could open up to, someone he could really be himself around, and god how he desperately longed for someone like that. you were able to see a different side to him than others did, a more soft and sensitive side, and he liked it. he liked you, and the more he got to know you, the more he fell for you.

johnny knew he liked you, but it wasn’t until this week where he finally realized that he was in love with you. it scared him. he cared about you so much that he always tried his best not to mess up what he had with you, you were the most important person in his life and the last thing he needed was to lose you because of him and his feelings. but they were becoming too much. all the sensations he would get when he was with you seemed to become more intense once he came to terms with how he really felt.

it was overwhelming. of course he thought about you every day and night, his heartbeat would always pick up at the sight or thought of you or the sound of your voice, he would always get this warm fuzzy feeling whenever you were around, whenever you would hang out, just like tonight; that was normal. but now it was different. he felt like he was drowning. his feelings for you were eating him alive and every time he saw you he desperately wanted to tell you about it, he wanted to kiss you and tell you how much you meant to him. he wanted you to be his more than ever. he needed you. but he was too scared.

he was still staring at the street in front of him, his mind racing with thoughts, thoughts about you. his thoughts were always about you. he wanted to tell you. he thought about it all night. every time he looked at you he fought back the urge to tell you he loved you, and as he pulled his eyes away from the street and back to your house, he finally decided he didn’t want to fight it anymore. he got out of his car.

*************************************

the knock on your window scared the absolute shit out of you. it was only until you hesitantly turned around and saw the familiar face of your favorite blonde boy looking in through the window, that your heart rate began to slow down, only a little bit.

even through the somewhat foggy glass you could still see him smirking a bit at your reaction, you just rolled your eyes as your fingertips pressed against the window, pushing it up so he could come inside.

“you’re an asshole.”

he just smiled even wider, shrugging once he finally made his way into your room, speaking, just before turning around to close the window.

“i know.” the words causing butterflies to spread throughout your body. you didn’t mind though. it was a usual occurrence.

he turned around to face you. there wasn’t much light in the room, the only light coming from the white christmas lights you had strung up along the wall. but even then there was just enough for him to see you, the sight of you causing his heart to race once again. you were so beautiful.

you were confused though. not that you didn’t want him to be here, you wanted anything but that, you just didn’t know why he was. you thought he already left, so why he was sneaking into your room not even twenty minutes later bewildered you.

“why are you here?” you asked.

johnny felt his heart sink a bit at the words. he knew you didn’t mean it in the way his brain made him think you did, but he was so scared about what he came here for that he immediately thought the worst. he knew this was a bad idea. he turned towards the window.

“i’m sorry, do you want me to go-“ he began but was cut off by the sound of your voice.

“no, no, oh my god no, that’s not what i meant...please stay.”

the last words you said and the feeling of your hand gripping onto his wrist at the same time made that burning feeling inside of him grow even more.

his eyes traveled down to your hands and then back up to you.

“i need to talk to you.”

you nodded, leading him over to your bed to sit down, like you normally did when you had your late night talks like this; your hand never letting go of his wrist.

when he sat down you noticed his demeanor changed. he was quiet.

“what did you want to talk about?”

his eyes traveled from where they were focused on the blanket that was covering your bed and up to your eyes. he felt nervous again, the sudden confidence he gained seemed to disappear once he looked at you, the same way it did when he first saw you.

he wanted to just say it, but it’s like something was holding his words back. he just looked at you instead.

“johnny.” your voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear it. “what’s wrong?”

he sighed, looking back down.

he felt chills at the feeling of your hands grabbing onto his, that same melting like sensation taking over his heart again.

his mind began to race at the feeling of your hands holding his, he loved the feeling. he thought about how it would feel to do this every day with you, what it would be like to hold your hand in public, at school, places where people would see and understand that you were his. he wanted you to be his. he wanted to be yours. he wanted you. he wanted to kiss you. he looked back up at you one more time. he wasn’t nervous anymore.

“you know i’m not the best at talking about my feelings.” he began, laughing a bit.

you smiled at his words, nodding in agreement.

“but,” he began again, “i’m gonna try my best with this because i don’t want to mess this up.”

he gave you a small smile that made you melt a bit inside. he was so cute.

you felt the feeling of confusion wash over you again at his words though, once you realized what he said. usually when you guys had your talks like this it was him talking about how stressed he was with every thing going on in his life, his shitty step father and the things he would say to him and even kreese sometimes; but this was different. what did he mean by not messing up?

you watched as his eyes looked away from yours and then back again. he began to speak.

“you’re my best friend...” you smiled again at his words, squeezing his hand a little bit, which he noticed.

“...and i care about you...a lot. but i’ve realized that, i care about you in ways that...aren’t really...in the way friends normally do.”

it felt as if your heart stopped at the sound of his words. was this actually happening? you’ve waited for this moment ever since you became friends with him but now that it might actually be happening you couldn’t believe it. he didn’t say anything that confirmed where you thought he was going with this, but what he said so far was hinting at it. it all was starting to make sense, why he came here so randomly after dropping you off not that long ago, why he seemed so nervous. you felt your face heat up at the excited yet nerve wracking feeling you got from his words, you also felt his hands starting to become a little sweaty, or maybe it was your hands; you didn’t know, nor care, you just wanted to hear him keep going.

johnny felt like his heart was pounding out of his chest. he watched the way your eyes widened a bit at his words, and even in the dim lighting he could still see the new red tint appearing across your face. he found it calming. maybe you did actually feel the same way. there was only one way to find out. he didn’t care whether or not his words made sense or if they sounded good anymore, he just needed to tell you the truth. and as he looked at you, and how beautiful you were and as he took in the feeling of your hands in his, he suddenly found all the words he needed to say. he kept going.

“i think about you all the time, every day and night. everything i do reminds me of you, and it’s been like that ever since i first saw you. and...i would try so hard to ignore it, but the more and more i got to know you...it’s like...i don’t know why i would ever not want to think about you. you’re so amazing and sweet and funny and you’re so smart, literally smarter than i could ever be, and you’re just such a good person, really. i know how i can be sometimes and i honestly don’t even know how you put up with me, but you do, and i’m so grateful for it, for you. you make me feel like...a better person, you make me want to be a better person...a better person for you...if that makes sense-“

he let out a small nervous laugh before looking back down at your hands, which were now interlocked with each other, and back up to you. you just stared at him, taking in every word he said, feeling overwhelmed at his words and the intense burning feeling in your chest and your cheeks. you wanted to say something, but you couldn’t. you wanted him to keep talking. you knew what he was getting at and what he meant, it was the same way you’ve been feeling for him for months, ever since you first met, but you wanted to hear him say it. you felt his thumb slowly graze over your hand, you felt butterflies once again. you wanted to kiss him, even more than you normally did, but you couldn’t. you needed to hear what he had to say. he started again. his blue eyes staring into yours.

“i’ve never felt this way about anyone before. and to be honest, it scares me...and i never get scared.”

you laughed a bit at the comment, causing him to smile.

“but seriously, i was so scared of it because i don’t want to mess up what we have. you’re the most important person in my life and i’d do anything for you, i mean it. and i would rather just keep my feelings to myself than lose you forever. but i can’t do that anymore.”

he stopped.

“i like you.” he began, your name falling from his lips after he said the words you’ve been wanting to hear for so long.

your heart was beating so fast you got scared you might go into cardiac arrest. you felt your breath get caught in your throat as he moved a bit closer.

“i like you so much... ever since i first saw you. but-“

your eyebrows furrowed for a second.

but?

he began again.

“the main reason i’ve been so scared is because i’ve realized that... the way i feel for you...is more than that.”

he stopped again, feeling his anxiety come back.

just say it.

he felt your hands hold onto his a little tighter, the feeling calming him a bit but still accelerating his heart beat. he looked away again, trying to find the courage to say what he’s been dying to say for so long. and as his eyes finally made their way back onto you, he found it.

“i’m in love with you.”

you felt like you couldn’t breathe. the words echoed in your head, repeating itself too many times to count.

he felt like a weight had been lifted off of him. he stared at you, that same burning feeling growing even more at the sight of you smiling a bit. he wanted to kiss you. he wanted to kiss you so bad, but he was waiting for something.

you just looked at him, your heart racing as fast as ever. a euphoric feeling washed over you. your eyes flickered down towards his lips and back to his eyes. you spoke.

“i’m in love with you too.”

there it was.

before either of you could even think about it, you felt his lips collide with yours; a feeling you’ve been desperately waiting for for a long time. it was perfect. he kissed you with so much urgency and love, love for you that he’s been keeping inside of him for so long, and now he could finally let out. you kissed him back with the same amount of emotion, smiling into the kiss at the feeling of his large hand removing itself from yours and making its way up to the side of your face, as his other one found itself on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

he felt chills run throughout his body at the feeling of you wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your hand beginning to run through his soft blonde hair. he’s thought about this moment for a long time, he’s thought about it every day, but the feeling of you kissing him in real life, right now, was even better than he’s ever imagined.

he slowly pulled away, just before quickly kissing you once more. he looked at you, his heart swelling at the sight; the sight of you. you smiled again as you felt his hand slowly move your hair away from your face and behind your ear.

he smiled.

“you’re so pretty.”

you smiled even wider.

“so are you.” you said.

he laughed a bit, shrugging.

“yeah, i know.”

you just laughed, playfully hitting his chest, your heart skipping a beat at the feeling of him taking it from where it was placed and interlocking his fingers with yours.

you just looked at each other. he felt an overwhelming feeling of happiness, a feeling he’s never really quite experienced before, he loved it. he loved you. and you loved him back, and that was all he needed. you were all he needed. and as he looked at you once more, his favorite person in the world, the person that he was finally able to call his, he finally felt complete.

he kissed you again.

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence x reader #cobra kai #karate kid #william zabka x reader #william zabka #80s movies #fanfic #80s #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence imagine #romance

634 notes · View notes

bakusquad-assemble · 3 years

Text

The Conference room

Genre: enemies to “lovers”, but they’re both emotionally stunted and don’t know how to express themselves.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x bratty fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, degradation, hate sex, Bakugou catching feelings

Word count: 4.7k

Description: Reader is a pro-hero tasked with working with her worst nightmare; Bakugou Katsuki. The two of them have never seen eye to eye, making it impossible to get anything accomplished. But when Bakugou jumps at her from across the table, things take an unexpected turn.

A/N: had an idea and ran with it! I’m a total sucker for enemies to lovers so I had to indulge! While this can be read as a one shot, I also wouldn’t be opposed to making it a series? Lemme know what you guys think! This is my first time writing anything like this, so please be kind.

“God, you’re insufferable, you know that?” You rolled your eyes, falling back into your chair with an exasperated huff. There were a few things that you didn’t enjoy about being a Pro hero, like the long hours and the lack of privacy, but this absolutely took the cake.

Bakugou Katsuki, or Dynamight as he was known to the public, sat in front of you clad in simple business attire with the nastiest scowl plastered on his dumb face. The two of your agencies had found themselves working together due to an influx in connected crime, and it had been the absolute worst thing you had ever experienced. The two of you had never seen eye to eye in the best of times, constantly teasing and bickering whenever you were in each other's presence, but having to work side by side with the explosive hero was like pulling teeth without any numbing agent. The two of you just didn’t mesh well together, constantly fighting for dominance of the situation, and it made for a very tense working environment for everyone involved. You were currently in the middle of coming up with an infiltration plan for a big villain hide-out, and Bakugou kept fighting you at every turn. He shot down every single one of your ideas, but had not yet made one himself. He was infuriating, and you wanted nothing more than to just walk out of the conference room and never speak to him again. You knew that was impossible though. People's lives were at stake and you weren’t selfish enough to let your discomfort affect your hero work.

Bakugou clicked his tongue at you, only adding to your frustration.

“You’re one to fucking talk!” He snarled in your direction, his hands balled into fists on top of the white marble table placed between you two.

“You haven’t come up with one usuable fucking plan all day!” His words were like venom, corroding your patience with every syllable. He had to be joking.

“Do you really have your head shoved so far up your own ass?” You started, the prominent look of detest written on your features.

“If my ideas are such shit, i'd like to see you come up with a better one! Or is that outside your levels of expertise? Does that brain of yours even have a rational mode or is it all just explosions and violence.” You could see his eyebrow twitching in anger at your words, and for some reason that excited you beyond belief. You loved getting under his skin, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It was cathartic in a way, watching him squirm.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” He spat viciously from across the table, his fists banging on the surface like an overgrown toddler throwing a tantrum. This time it was you clicking your tongue.

“I rest my case. I should have known working with you was going to be nothing but hell. Some pro hero you are, can’t even make a simple infiltration plan without throwing a fit.” Bakugou growled loudly, and you couldn’t help but akin his behavior to that of a feral animal.

“Will you shut the fuck up!” He seethed, but you were unfazed. You simply leaned back in your seat with an excited grin, crossing your arms over your chest as you did so. You weren't sure why arguing with the explosive man gave you such a rush of adrenaline, but you needed more. It was as if his words of resentment were a highly addictive drug, and you were itching for your next fix.

“Aww what's wrong, can’t handle a little bit of criticism?” Your confidence rang through the air like gun fire, piercing and tearing at Bakugou's skin. He was heated, you could tell by the way his pale skin flushed and how the faint smell of caramel assaulted your senses as he let off a few pops of his quirk in his fists. If you hadn’t known the man in front of you, perhaps you would have been intimidated by his crude actions, but you knew Bakugou would never lay a hand on you. No matter how heated your arguments got.

This certainly wasn’t the first time you had argued like this, it happened to be a recurring theme for the both of you whenever you were in the same room, but today something felt different. The tension laid heavy between you two, tangible, but it was laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint; A warmth pooling in your stomach.

“I said shut the hell up!” He screamed, standing up from his chair in a huff. You had pushed him too far, letting your teasing nature get the better of you as it had been known to do. Yet, instead of dropping it, moving on with your work, you persisted. You poked the bear once more, but this time in a way that surprised even you. You locked eyes with his piercing crimson ones, rising from your chair with formidable authority. Your chin tilting up ever so slightly as you spoke, letting the warmth in your stomach take over.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me, Dynamight”

Bakugou froze, and you couldn’t help but smirk victoriously. You knew the teasing tone would be enough to fluster him, to shut him down and win the argument so you could get back to working in silence. What you weren’t expecting was the way his breath caught in his throat, or the fervent blush that crept up his neck and consumed his features. And you certainly were not expecting the way your face reciprocated immediately upon sight. The palpable tension consuming the two of you, and the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. It was not the feeling of complete and utter disdain that always lingered there, but instead something far worse. The warmth that had been bubbling in your lower abdomen was now yelling at you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that feeling had always been there, simply lurking under the guise of hatred. Your eyes took in his features with a new glazed expression, subconsciously nibbling at your lower lip as you did so. The way you could see his heart hammer in his chest made you question if he was feeling the same sensation you currently were.

Your mind didn’t have much time to process that thought however, because within an instant Bakugou was throwing himself at you from across the table. His mouth on yours in seconds and his hands gripped at the back of your head to hold you tightly into the kiss, as if trying to relish in a fleeting moment. It was like a shock wave of intensity took over you, throwing all caution to the wind, and you found yourself kissing back with unexpected heat before you even had time to think. He slammed your smaller frame against the cold concrete of the office wall and you couldn't control the small yelp that slipped into his mouth. He had no idea why he was doing this. Why did your words have such an impact on him? Whatever had possessed him in the moment seemed to have taken hold of you as well. He wasn’t expecting you to kiss back with such fervor, in fact, he was fully convinced he was going to earn himself a solid punch to the mouth. But that wasn’t the case, and it made him question if those flirtatious and subtle sexual nuances had always littered your vocabulary, or if it had been a heat of the moment thing for you as well. One thing he knew for certain was that he had always found you enticing. The way you quipped back at him with ease, moving through his words as if you were bullet proof. His insults never penetrating your perfect complexion. And the way you would smirk at him, it was intoxicating. The way you knew just how to get under his skin. He hated it, and even though he’d hate to admit it, he loved it so much more.

His rough and calloused hands kept a firm grip on you, finally getting a chance to enjoy that perfect frame up close and personal. Your hands tangled up in his ash blonde locks, pulling at them roughly and putting space between your mouths so that your lips were just barely hovering above his lower one. Even still he could feel the delicious grin that overtook your features at the involuntary whimper that escaped his lips from the lack of contact. It wasn’t long before he was pulling against you to initiate the kiss again, and you did nothing to stop him, allowing him to dive back in and devour those sweet and supple bruised lips of yours once more. God, how he had always wanted this. He let his pelvis grind into yours, his hand finding its home on your hip to pull you in closer, forcing a moan to creep its way out of your throat. He wasn’t sure what had come over him; repression, pent up sexual tension, pure feral instinct, but he just couldn’t control himself. Especially not when such a lewd and sweet sounding moan cascaded from your lips like that. He had to have you now.

The faint noise of the lock clicking behind him rang in his ears like one of his explosions, and he found his head whipping in this direction of the noise as if expecting to see someone witnessing something they weren’t supposed to. Instead he saw the faint golden glow of your quirk, and upon rounding his eyes back to you, saw everything that he needed to know written on your features. You had locked it over his shoulders using your psychokinetic quirk. He chuckled darkly above your lips, before swooping back in hungrily, taking your actions as a nonverbal cue to continue. You couldn’t get enough of his taste. The sickly-sweet sensation taking over your senses, and by the way he kissed you, you could only guess you were just as intoxicating to him. Your hips moved on their own accord, desperate to feel his hard cock rubbing against you through the slack of his pants, but you could feel the resistance from the blondes firm grip on your hips. You needed more of him, wanted to get rid of this disgusting heat inside of you. You knew he noticed how much you ached for him too, you could sense it in the way his ego grew in his chest with every movement. He was always so perceptive, and you hated that about him. How dare he be able to control you like this. Have this domineering hold around you that you most certainly did not allow in your daily life. You never took his shit. Never put up with his bitching. Yet here you were, horny and writhing in his grasp, desperate for his twitching cock to fill you up.

“What’s the matter, princess?” His husky voice cut through the room. The teasing nickname you detested grating at your senses and finding a new feeling bubbling up deep inside your abdomen. God, you fucking hated him.

“Don’t have anything else to fucking say?” He ground his hips against yours again, eliciting the same noise of wanting to come crashing around the two of you. You tried your best to suppress it this time, not wanting to give him the sheer satisfaction of knowing just how much he had you under his spell right now, but the noise forced its way out as a high pitched whimper. You felt the way his cock twitched against your heat, only adding to your sheer desire. Your head fell back against the wall as you bit harshly at your lip. How could you be so weak for this man that not even ten minutes ago you absolutely despised with everything in your being. He took that as an answer.

“Did I finally find a fucking way to shut you up, dumbass?” He whispered into your ear, the soft wetness overtaking your senses and filling you with pure adrenaline. His hand gripped at the hair on the back of your head like you had done to his only moments before, exposing your neck so that he could trail rough kisses down to your collarbone. Biting and nipping at the soft skin.

“If you want my cock so bad, beg for it. “ It was like a light switch had gone off in your brain at that very moment. You couldn’t let him win, Let him talk to you like this. No matter how much it made your juices pool in your panties like some kind of whore in heat, you couldn’t let him embarrass you like this.

“In your dreams, you fucking pervert.” you spat viciously, a salacious smile biting at your features. Bakugou's head rounded to meet your eyes, an interested smirk over taking his features.

“Huh? What did you say to me?” The venom was tangible, but it did nothing to deter you from spitting back again. This time the smirk on your lips growing into a confident one, even through your ragged pants of need.

“I said...in your fucking dreams. “ putting emphasis on each word He growled into your skin, vibrating your body with his raw and feral rage.

“You fuckin’ brat.”

You knew you had just signed your death warrant but you didn’t care, in fact, it only aroused you more. You needed to feel him inside of you. You needed the release. It was as if the room was spinning and the only thing that was keeping you grounded was the aching between your legs. The desperate need to feel something. You felt his grip grow tighter on you and before you knew it your face was pressed up against the cold wall in an instant. Bakugou's hand laid on the back of your head, gripping at your hair and pushing your face against the concrete, the other tightly locked on your hip, keeping your soaking cunt up against the hard bulge in his pants. You felt your body buck against it subconsciously, sending another shockwave of pleasure pulsing through your body, and his.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” He hissed into your ear. The hand that laid in your hair coiled itself around your neck, squeezing ever so slightly as he brought your head closer to his. You let out a slight gasp, but still a smirk laid ever present on your face.

“Good.”

His free hand made quick work of your soaking panties, pushing them to the side under the hem of your pencil skirt. One of his thick digits slipping against your wet folds before situating itself inside without much warning. Even with just his finger you felt so full. The warmth from his hand radiating inside of you and only aiding in your pleasure. Bakugou couldn’t help the noises that escaped his mouth as he worked your pussy with his fingers. The way your walls clamped around them and left them completely soaked only made his need for you grow.

“God, youre so fucking wet for me.” His breathing was erratic, greedy. He had been overcome with lust that he was barely registering what he was saying. Normally situations like this would absolutely fluster Bakugou, or just straight up never happen. Bakugou was always so focused on his hero work that hookups were few and far between, and certainly never quite this passionate. A quick fuck with no return call and that was it. There was just something about you that made his head spin. You were always a challenge, never backing down no matter how brutal his berating and instead firing back at him with such confidence that it caught him off guard more often than not. Sure, it was so infuriating, but he had a thing for strong women. So everytime you spit back with that ungodly sexy smirk of yours, the fire in Bakugou only grew. He never thought he’d see you like this though, never imagining that he would be able to make that pretty little mouth of yours moan out for him, but he had certainly spent countless nights alone with his hand gripped around himself at the very thought. He quickly added another finger as he pounded them into you, causing you to gasp out in pleasure.

“ Yeah, you like that? You little slut.” You shut your eyes tightly, feeling the embarrassment overtake you as your head nodded against his hand like the greedy slut you were. Normally you would never accept words like that to come out of a man's mouth toward you, but there was just something about the way Bakugou said them that had you reeling with anticipation.

He curled his fingers inside of you, toying with your sensitive spot ever so slightly. Did you really think a simple nod was going to satiate his need for praise? He was going to tease you until he got what he wanted.

“What was that?” He smirked against the skin of your neck, nibbling roughly at the sensitive skin. You felt your body jerk against him, sending his fingers deeper into you. You bit your lip hard to suppress the moan that overtook you.

“Just fuck me already, Katsuki! ” you whimpered, his first name feeling foreign in your mouth. You were growing impatient, and even though your words came out as a command, you knew deep down it was desperation. The embarrassment rampantly flooded through your body, turning you a deep shade of pink, but you pushed through it. You couldn’t keep letting him play with you like you were some toy, you had to take what you wanted any way you could. You needed to cum, and you certainly weren’t going to do it on his fingers, no matter how good they felt. You needed the real thing.

“I can’t take it anymore, just fuck me!” You reluctantly begged, trying to look anywhere but at the man behind you. You could feel the shock rush through Bakugou's body at your words, clearly taken aback for a second at your bluntness and hearing his name spill from your lips like that. A wave of determination flooded through his system. He was going to make you scream his name so everyone in the office could hear it, even from the confines of the soundproof meeting room. He quickly let go of you to fiddle with his belt buckle, but you didn’t dare move to look at him. Instead you found solace in rubbing your thighs together. The friction keeping you high, keeping you blind to what was really happening. To the fact that you had just begged Bakugou Katsuki, the biggest piece of shit you have ever met, to fuck you.

You felt the tip of his cock trace your sweet hole for a second, and you braced yourself for agony. You thought he was going to relentlessly tease you, break you, find some way to have you squirming in his grasp and begging again, but instead the feeling of him bottoming out in you quickly overtook all of your senses. He was surprised he had even lasted this long in the foreplay if he was honest. He needed you, needed to feel the way you felt around him. He had fantasized about this for years, what it would feel like to finally have you in such a compromising position, but he was in no way ready for the sheer bliss your walls brought him. You had him reeling. He grunted aggressively against your skin, not moving inside of you as if to take in this sensation. Who knew when it would happen again, or If it would happen again.

“Fuckkk” he whined, and somehow his words alone had you aching for more. If you thought his finger had you feeling full, it was no match for the size of his cock. You couldn’t help but rock back onto him, rotating your hips in a way that had the both of you moaning.

“Katsuki” His name dripped from your lips again like the words sweetest song. There was something about the way you said his first name that had him teetering on the edge. It was so sweet, like honey trickling down the curves of your lips, begging to be savoured, and like hell he was going to deny himself that sweetness. Even if he knew he would probably never get the chance to taste it again. He wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to pound you into oblivion. He pulled back for a second, his dick sliding out of your entrance and leaving you with a longing and empty feeling after being so full only a second ago. Your eyes widened, about to whimper out in distress at the loss, until the fullness came back to you forcefully. The roughness of his thrust sending your body bumping into the wall in front of you and causing a loud moan to escape your lips. Your hand quickly shot up to your mouth, covering it quickly in the hopes that no one had heard you. You felt Bakugou snicker in your ear, pulling your hand roughly away from its place over your mouth, his hot breath panting heavily onto your skin.

“Let them hear you. Let them hear so they know who you belong to.” He spat out in between thrusts, head clearly spinning from the pure ecstasy you brought him.

“You wish.” you hissed, sending your ass into him to meet his thrusts. Bakugou grit his teeth in pleasure, cursing out under his breath. You were definitely right about that. You were the one person Bakugou knew he would never be able to truly control, but honestly, he didn’t want to. You were a force to be reckoned with, and an absolute powerhouse of a Pro Hero, and he admired you. Just as you did him, in your own little way.

Bakugou brought his open palm down onto your exposed ass with a grin, the pain of his warm hand mixing with the pure ecstasy of his cock and eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, spinning from the sensation. Bakugou found himself groaning with every thrust, unable to force them down. You just felt too good, too addicting, and he needed more; needed to cum. His hand gripped at the back of your hair, pulling your head to the side so that his face was flush up against yours, his mouth inches from your ear. The sound of his erratic breathing and raw grunts of pleasure filled your senses immediately, making the warmth in your stomach bubble with excitement. You weren’t going to last much longer like this.

“Fuck” Your voice came out in a choked whimper, laced with blatant wanton lust.

“Like that, don’t stop.” You commanded, and Bakugou groaned in response. The grip on your hair tightened ever so slightly and you felt his teeth snarl against your ear, nipping at the exposed skin. He could tell you were close by the way your walls clamped around him, making it almost impossible to hold out any longer.

“Yeah” He panted in agreement, his thrusts becoming more unpredictable as he felt himself getting closer to the edge. It didn’t take much before you completely came undone around Bakugou. It was as if your body was floating weightlessly in space, a beautiful expanse of stars and colors blurring your vision, before gravity was quickly pulling you back down to earth abruptly, leaving your legs trembling from the impact.

Your hands subconsciously gripped Bakugou's, savoring in his warmth as you rode out your high around his thrusts, your head spinning with pure ecstasy and adrenaline. Bakugou buried his face into the crook of your neck, as if to hide the flush that had spread across his face from nonexistent eyes. Watching your body tense and shake around him had to be the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen in his life, and that was exactly what sent him over the edge.

“F-Fuck” His voice quivered against your skin and you felt his grip grow tighter on your hips, pulling you back into his pelvis to burry himself deeper within you. If you weren’t currently trembling from your own climax, perhaps you would’ve stopped Bakugou from coating your insides, but in the moment you didn’t seem to care. You felt your walls clamp down around him once more, desperately taking everything in without any fear of the consequences it might hold. Bakugou didn’t pull away from you, instead leaving his body flushed up against yours as the two of you attempted to regain your composure.

The room was silent, aside from the panting that still hung close to your ear. The primal lust that had just engulfed the two of you was quickly replaced with confusion, and the room was suddenly too silent. Bakugou pulled away from you at last, and his warmth that had enveloped you just two seconds ago now completely dissipated. You weren’t sure why, but you missed it immediately. It just felt so right, brought you so much comfort, and that very thought alone scared you. You quickly pulled yourself off the wall and rounded to look at the blonde man behind you as he fixed himself up. His face seemed to mimic yours, and you weren’t sure whether or not that was a good or a bad thing, but for the moment it brought you solace. You let out a shaky sigh before straightening the hem of your skirt against your reddened thighs. You could feel his eyes on you, like lasers burning your skin. You quirked an eyebrow up at him, trying your best to muster a smirk while your fingers worked tirelessly at untangling your hair that Bakugou had made a mess of.

Bakugou felt his voice rise in his throat as his eyes finally met with yours once more, he had so many questions; what was that all about? What does this mean for us? Can I take you out for dinner? but all of those questions died in his throat before they made it to his lips. The shake of your head deterring him from letting them out. You didn’t want him to say something he was going to regret, something stupid you say after the high of an orgasm. You weren’t sure what exactly that would’ve been, but you liked it better this way.

“Don’t, your stupid voice is what got us into this mess in the first place.” You tried your best to keep your voice even, calm, as if none of this had shaken you to your core. As if he wasn’t still lingering inside of you. As if you felt absolutely nothing from that encounter. Just another meaningless hook up, that was all. Or at least that was what you tried to tell yourself. You watched as Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed, as they did whenever you spoke, but this time it felt off. Laced with something different. It would take you a while to pinpoint that exact feeling, but it would come to you nonetheless. When you were alone in your bed late at night, thinking about the way his eyes glistened, and his body tried to stay steady. Hurt.

You moved towards the tall blonde with a false sense of confidence, though to the unsuspecting eye you never faltered. Your delicate hand moving up to the tall blondes cheek and patting it roughly. The curves of your lips forming into that smirk that Bakugou loved detested so much.

“Leave the planning to me, I don’t really need your help anyway.” Your eyes locked with his for a moment, before you felt the need to break away. To slam the cover shut on those feelings that threatened to spill over the top of Pandora’s box. You sauntered past his form nonchalantly, your hips moving in a hypnotizing form that had Bakugou unable to peel his eyes away.

“Just remember...” You started, turning your head to look at him from over your shoulder.

“Meetings in the conference room are confidential.” And with a wink, you quickly turned the handle of the door and made your exit, needing to get away as quickly as possibly so that you could breathe once again. Bakugou still stood at the center of the room, confused and finally at a loss for words. He had no idea how any of that had just happened, or why he felt a heavy pang in his chest as he watched you leave the room seemingly unfazed. But there was one thing he knew for certain, one thing he was determined to do now more than ever; he was going to make you his.

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #mha #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou imagines #bakugou x reader #mha imagines #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x oc #katsuki bakugou #bnha #bnha imagines #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction

221 notes · View notes

theamberwizard · 3 years

Text

i’ve been thinking about black widow and the red room recently, as one does, and i’ve got a lot of thoughts about the effects of the red room on widows who’ve escaped. couple things, just before i begin: i would recommend having watched black widow before this because there are implied (?) spoilers, i use way too fancy language while i write and i don’t have an editor cause this is mainly to catch her off guard, so, uh, whoops sorry

trigger warnings: TW: child abuse TW: restricted eating/starving yourself TW: dehumanization TW: death of a child

so yeah, enjoy my list of 10 personal headcanons about how the red room fucks you up on all the levels.

1) black widows cannot sleep in. like, they wake up at 5:00 am every day. it’s not a physical thing, at least not as far as they know, because they can negate that by just going to bed two hours or less before 5:00 am just from their lack of sleep. if, however, they go to sleep at a fairly normal hour they will, like clockwork, wake up at 5:00. this stems from them doing it every single day of their life since they got indoctrinated in the red room. if they didn’t wake up at 5:00 am ready for more training or missions, for any reason, they would be tortured. sometimes physically, sometimes mentally. eventually, all the widows would get that message. they still can’t shake it. because of that, natasha will often refuse to go to sleep at a normal hour, trying to force her body into submission, trying to rid herself of the painful memories that accompanied sleep and waking up afterwards. only clint knows why, because each day in that vent, natasha would snap up at 4:00 am. she had to explain to him that she just wasn’t accustomed to budapest time, and that actually, it was 5:00 am in russia.

2) for months after escaping the red room, widows practically cannot eat. in the red room, they were fed mushy messes of meals, filled with only the necessary nutrients that they absolutely had to have to survive. most widows can only get down one meal, maybe even a snack if they push it, until they throw it all up. they have to slowly eat slightly more each day for weeks until they can get down a normal intake of food. even then, it’s hard to push that, and every widow relapses into throwing up in those early stages. however, this isn’t normally a problem for most widows until a couple weeks into their life with freedom. that’s about the time that they make an acquaintance, who will eventually pluck up the courage to ask them why every time said friend will eat near the widow, the widow will lean over and whisper: “careful, that’s your whole ration today and i don’t want to do extra training.”

3) each “class” of widows had an extra mentor teacher in their early red room years. this was an older widow, someone who’d been falling behind in her recent missions, and with a look that the red room deemed “motherly”. their sole purpose was to be the person each widow got attached too, the parental figure. they were nice, they were helpful, they taught many different basic techniques. then, one day, the red room would have another older widow, (one already introduced to the children as the metaphorical “bad cop” of this scenario) come in and inform the mentor that she had failed her latest mission and proceed to, in front of thirty eleven year-olds, shoot the mentor. the mentor widow would not die that day- the red room refused to waste such a weapon- but the class of up incoming widows would be informed that she had. the official purpose of this exercise was to demonstrate to both the trainees and the trainer the consequences of failing a mission. the unofficial purpose? that would be the last psychological effects the mentor’s “death” would have upon the class, making them learn what happened to attachments in the red room. the day natasha’s class experienced this was the day she cut off all contact with her sister. the day yelena experiences this is the day she first another widow- because yelena killed that mentor with her own bare hands before the informant ever finished the announcement.

4) towards the start of the red room’s history, there were several attacks on the red room. the first ever attack was from a local police station who had been getting complaints of loud wailing, and, upon further investigation, realized what they were dealing with. they brought several other police and militia groups from nearby towns. the immediate action that was taken was to throw the littlest girls they had at the attackers. it stopped the police in their tracks, obviously, because you really don’t expect to come across thirty little girls while searching through a building of highly trained assassins. the red room then sent their fully trained widows and killed everyone. including the girls. the red room then found that footage from their cameras (because of fucking course they have cameras) and then showed it to the next batch of widows, just to show them how disposable they were.

5) yelena and natasha almost caused a whole fucking mutiny within the red room just because of their names. in the red room, you see, widows do not get names. they instead are bestowed with numbers, and even those are a twisted class ranking. they all wore little name tags with the numbers on them until came natasha and yelena came in. yelena, having just seen her mother get shot, complied almost immediately and was addressed as number 42. on the other side of that coin you have natasha, who had already been in the red room and remembered every gruesome detail, and went “fuck you my name is natalia.” upon hearing of this (word gets around fast in the red room. every girl must know they are being listened to at all times, and no secrets can be kept from the red room,) yelena too announced her name to the class.

6) this was met with blanching from every child in that class, because how on earth can you be called by a word? no, they thought, we are numbers, we are weapons, we are not people and we cannot have our own words, for we are not worthy. but secretly, internally, they wished for a name. slowly, they began piecing syllables together until they formed a coherent name, and for the first time in the red room’s long history, they didn’t have weapons. not anymore. they have two full classes of human little girls. the red room officials heard of this, obviously, and took to the only method they had now. violence. the classes were rid of the named girls, yet natasha and yelena were kept alive. they were kept alive to be ostracized, to be the girl the others pointed at and said “she’s the reason all my friends died.” they were kept alive so they could watch the carnage they had unwittingly caused just by saying their own names. and the worst part? well, the worst part was when the teachers accounted for those kills, and made them top of the class. yelena will never forget the day the teachers stood her and her sister up in front of all the widows-in-traning and told them what a good job they had done, how those tactics were sure to help them graduate. i mean, you’re practically a shoo-in if they rest of your class was killed by your school.

7) the red room could never fully stop the names, and so they decided to make a system, and the names would be the highest reward. they told the young, impressionable girls that while maybe outsiders such as natasha and yelena got names at birth, you had to earn them here. if you are to become a spy, you will take on the name of you very first official alias. if, instead, you become an assassin, you will take on the name of your very first official kill. of course, in reality, the widows couldn’t actually address each other with their new earned names, and instead used “team leader” or other such titles. but it became a small comfort for them, thinking of themselves in third person, with their very own names. in some small part they weren’t fully weapons anymore, no, they were people again. natasha took on the name natalia, because in her mind that life in ohio had been her first mission, even if she hadn’t known it. yelena took on yelena as well, but in her mind that little girl in ohio who was sitting in the backseat, caring only about which song they played, that girl had to have been yelena’s first true kill.

8) the names system worked well in the red room, but when you escaped it caused some serious problems. most would have to announce themselves to the russian government, saying they had been flying under the radar their whole life and never became registered. then, they’d give a non-russian name, and their whole ruse would fall apart. unfortunately, this was the least of their problems, because many a widow would someday meet a relative of their very first kill, and when they introduced themselves as the person they had killed all those years ago, the families and friends would often figure them out.

9) one of the biggest parts of the red room’s brainwashing was their little catchphrases they used. ironically, a lot of them were eerily close to boy scout mottos- “be prepared,” an iconic scout motto, versus “there is no safety, only preparedness,” the most frequently used phrase within the red room. when widows then escaped, the most small phrase could set them off. some unknowing widows even adopted little boys in their new lives, who often became boy scouts. the ensuing misery is something you can imagine yourself.

10) after clint helped natasha to escape, she immediately died her hair blond. clint asked why, of course, and she didn’t tell him. (what, you thought i’d have another cute clintasha moment? never.) this was partly because she hadn’t admitted it to herself, though, because natasha couldn’t remember her sister without remembering all the suffering that came with her.

11) when the widows were smaller, more susceptible to the conditioning, the red room would stage infiltrations. older widows, ones who were closer to retirement, would come in in different uniforms, sometimes the uniforms of UN officers or local police, sometimes different organizations, all different types. the most recent uniforms made yelena sick looking at them, because each time the older widows would pretend to be the avengers there would also be one pretending to be her sister. each time she saw the fake natasha she wanted to break that widow’s neck because that’s not how my sister tilts her head, you’re doing it all wrong. you should be doing it like this, you shouldn’t be doing it at all, i should be doing this, i know my sister. each time those exact thoughts went into her head, and each time all she really wanted was for her sister to be there, for natasha to do her little head tilt upon seeing yelena and take her hand and say “you’re safe now, i promise,” and for natasha to be telling the truth. the only problem was that deep down inside herself yelena knew that this could never actually happen while yelena was still in the red room, because while yelena was still in the red room she knew that she would look at natasha telling her she was safe and tell her in return that there was no safety, only preparedness, and then murder her sister in cold blood.

266 notes · View notes