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snowblossomreads · 9 months

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After Hours

Summary: In where [Y/n] gets pulled into a late night romp in the office with her partner in crime.

Pairing: David Friedman x FemReader

Tags(s)/Warnings: Office Sex, Daddy Kink, Pet Names, Spanking, Implied Age Gap, Teasing, Penetrative Sex, Are those dom/sub vibes I see?, yes, mention of voyeurism, also both characters are detectives so if bothers you

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: LOLOL I'M HERE AGAIN SURPRISE! I am on a roll right now as you can see and I hope it continues to go that way (she's very horny for this one old man as you see) Also don't fuck in the evidence room in the police department I'm pretty sure it's illegal.

Shout-out to @smilingformoney for enabling me and giving me horny ideas to write for this old man while also writing horny fics for this man😌😌. Iysm this is for you and I hope you enjoy a lil southern Alan💖💖💖.

MDNI!

"D-Dave what are you doing," [Y/n] hissed under her breath as she found herself being dragged into the evidence room of the station and pushed against one of the many shelves that littered the room with items on them.

She had only come down to check on the man who was now currently kissing her neck hungrily because he hadn't come back after half an hour. And being alone in the precinct in the middle of the night was actually quite creepy even if it was probably one of the safer places in the city.

"Dave! Oh, Jesus fuck slow down," she groaned trying to pry the man off of her as he switched from kissing to sucking at the tender flesh of her neck that had her knees going weak. His hands ran up and down her sides, squeezing at them causing her to giggle even as she tried to push him off. "Oh my god you're gonna get us fired!"

Whether it was the threat of being fired or her trying to push him off that made him stop, it didn't stop the sly grin on his face as he pulled away.

"What? Not likin' me jumpin' your bones in the office while no one's watchin?" He teased, a smirk on his lips as he placed a quick peck on [Y/n]'s. One she happily accepted signaling that she wasn't against what they were doing.

"Now I didn't say nothing about not likin' it detective," her answer coy and a bit breathless as she thumbed the lapel of his dress shirt, "I just think we should you know, make sure the door's locked before someone finds you balls deep in me."

The loud chuckle that rumbled through his chest could be felt by her with how close they were pressed together, and she couldn't help shivering at the feeling. God damn this old man for being as hot as he was, and having such a stupid sexy deep voice. And damn her for loving him so much that she lowkey would risk getting fired for him.

Never in her life did she think she would end up getting bent over in the police station but here she was about to absolutely let the man in front of her do that. Once he locked the door though.

"What not a fan of an audience?" He asked releasing her from his grip and taking a few steps back to lock the door as she suggested.

"Oh me? I'm perfectly fine with one, it's you that I'd be worried about."

With a raise of an eyebrow, David was slinking back towards [Y/n] her eyes narrowed playfully as he caged her against the shelf by putting both hands on the opposite side of her head. His breath tickled her face and the smell of coffee was evident as he leaned down near her ear.

"Really and why's that doll?" He drawled nuzzling the side of her face, causing her ear to tickle again at how gruff his voice was.

"Mmm oh come on Dave you know why," she sighed breathlessly, feeling the tip of his nose glide down her neck, goosebumps growing in its wake before he was nibbling at her neck again.

She was no doubt going to have bruises the next day and she hoped she had enough concealer for it as she didn't need more questions about her love life.

"Naw I sure don't, tell me why doll," he muttered, his hands slipping from near her head to find themselves squeezing at her sides again before one of them began to dive underneath the pencil skirt that [Y/n] had decided to wear today on account of it being paperwork day.

"Ah fuck Dave!" The feeling of his thick fingers moving her underwear to the side and rubbing her dampening slit had her hands reaching out to grab his shoulder.

Her head fell back against the shelf with a soft 'thud' as he began to drag his digits up down her opening collecting her wetness with each swipe. He took his time when he reached her clit that was still hidden beneath her folds.

Fingers brushing against the skin gently before rubbing circles against the flesh to try and coax the little bud out. All while [Y/n] huffed and whined at his touches, her hips jerking towards his hand with each stroke.

"Right there Dave," she sighed softly as his fingers kept stroking her and his lips continued to leave a trail of wet kisses down her throat.

Chills of excitement ran up her spine, spreading all over her as he kept touching and riling her up the way she knew he could.

"Mm right there Dave, please keep going boo~."

Yet at her words, he did the complete opposite. And she didn't know if she wanted to yell at him or burst out laughing because even in the delicious haze her brain was in she already knew what she had slipped up on.

Pulling away from her neck, but keeping his fingers against her David was looking at her with a raised eyebrow and hazel eyes that had a spark of annoyance in them.

"Now what did I say about callin' me that?"

She was right. She was fucking right and she wanted to laugh so much, though she wasn't sure if it was a good idea considering he literally had her in his hands. But she loved teasing him and she wasn't about to pass up the chance.

"Callin' you what?" She teased mischievously, her eyes narrowing and issuing a challenge as she bit her bottom lip to give him a smoldering look in hopes he would ignore the slip-up or at least make it worth her wild.

"Don't go playin' dumb with me now [Y/n]," he hissed trailing his fingers down from her clit to her opening and pushing the thick digits inside her with no warning.

A shriek of surprise left [Y/n]'s lips at the sudden intrusion but it quickly morphed into an elongated moan as he began to curl the digits inside her, stroking the tight walls that slowly began to loosen at his touches.

"Mmm I'm not Dave, I promise," she whined, letting a high-pitched gasp out at the feeling of his fingers thrusting shallowly inside of her as they went in search of something he fully knew the location of. "I'm sorry, fuck I'm sorry didn't mean to darlin'."

The change in tone, and in terms of endearment had him smirking as he pressed his fingers deeper in her causing her to squeal and shudder at his movements. Her arms flew up and around his shoulder, as she pressed her front to him hugging him and moaning in his ear as he continued to open her up.

"Oh, so now you remember what I told you when I got my fingers inside you huh?" He hummed punctuating the question with another harsh thrust that had [Y/n] squealing and shaking in his hold as he increased his pace causing her to squirm. "All it takes is makin' your pussy feel good and you change that tune quick right doll?"

"Y-yes, yes," she stuttered out, rocking her hips at his touch trying to guide him to that spot inside her.

"Yes what?" He purred while the hand that was resting at her side slid to her backside. His fingers squeezing and massaging the flesh underneath her skirt before he was raising his hand and swatting her behind causing her to yelp out a startled,

"Dave!"

"Wrong answer doll." And then came another swat that had her shuddering and her insides clenching at the fingers that were still taking their time and toying with her.

Oh. So he was in that kind of mood.

Leaning her head up, she couldn't help but shudder at how his pupils were dilated. Hazel eyes were almost completely covered by his dark pupils and a hungry grim was on his features while he waited for her answer.

Oh, they were so going to get fired if someone showed up wondering where they were and found them like this. Unfortunately, though it was a risk she was willing to take as one of her hands fell from his shoulders to lay on top of his hand that was squeezing her ass. Stroking the top of his hand, she proceeded to put pressure on it causing him to squeeze her harder making her moan.

"Yes daddy," she groaned, kissing his lips softly as he slipped his fingers out of her, giving her clit one last stroke before removing his hand fully from under her skirt.

"That's what I was lookin' for, now turn yourself around. And bend over," he commanded but not before kissing her on the forehead, "gotta teach you a lesson and hopefully it'll stick this time."

She knew there was no point in trying to convince him otherwise and that she would be wasting her breath but she couldn't help but let out an upset groan as she did as he told her.

"I'm sorry," she whined once more, as she turned around to face the side of the shelf. Bending at the waist and outstretching her hands in front of her, placing them on the frame of the shelf while spreading her legs a little.

A strong pang of arousal shot through her stomach when she really thought about what was about to happen. Getting spanked and railed in the middle of the night at her job should not have been turning her on as much as it was but she couldn't deny it as she felt her skirt being rolled up and her damp underwear being pulled to the side causing her to shiver as the cool air of the room met her wet opening that was on display.

A hum of appreciation left David's lips as he caressed the globe of [Y/n]'s ass. The tips of his fingers danced over the warm flesh as they made their way toward her glistening opening. Swiping two of his fingers through her folds, he couldn't help but chuckle at the way she keened and rocked her hips back toward him.

"You'll get some more of that in a minute but we got some countin' to do. Think ten of 'em will get what I told you in your head?"

It was his way of asking her if she was alright with all of this as he went back to stroke her skin. Such a gentleman he was, [Y/n] mused as she looked behind her and caught his gaze.

"Mhm, yes sir," she purred, wiggling her hips and causing him to chuckle as he took his hand off of her for just a second.

"Alright then let's get to countin'."

No sooner had he said that the sound of a harsh 'thwack' of his hand landing on her skin echoed around the room and it was mixed in with a choked,

"One!"

Another smack.

"Two!"

And another just as hard as the two before.

"Three!"

Each number was squeaked out in a higher pitch than the next one as his hand landed on her ass three more times in rapid succession. And each spank had her insides clenching and unclenching from the punishment she was receiving as she swayed her hips from side to side as if she was trying to tempt the man behind her.

"Daddy please I'm sorry, I won't call you that again," [Y/n] mewled, her behind already stinging from the force. As much as she did like a bit of pain with her pleasure, the feeling of arousal in her stomach was bubbling up quicker than normal and she wasn't sure if she could contain herself if it went on much longer.

David seemed to have sensed that yet kept his tone leveled even as he stroked her ass rubbing his thumb against the already sore flesh.

"Now you know I don't wanna hear none of that [Y/n]," he said, "how many we got left now?"

"Four...sir," she whimpered quietly, eyes fluttering close and fingers balling into a fist against the shelf as she felt him dip his fingers just past the opening of her before pulling out. Teasing her insides with what could be inside her rather than what they were doing right now.

Though as if he could read her mind, because he surely knew how to read her body, he made an amused hum as he wiped her wetness off on his slacks. Good thing they were dark in color.

"Well then I say we hurry up then because from the looks and sound of it you're 'bout ready to combust, aren't you?" He purred lowly placing his hand back on her bottom and squeezing gently causing her legs to feel as if they were about to just give out beneath her.

God damn him and his stupid talented fingers. And her stupid pussy that was absolutely soaked and wanting him to just fuck her.

"Yes sir please 'm not gonna last long." She mewled, leaning her forehead against the cool shelf side and sighing at the contact against her warm face.

"Alright then four more."

If she thought the last four strikes were going to be pleasant just because he seemed to take notice of her need. She (and her butt) were sorely mistaken as the last ones seemed to be even worse. Maybe it was because of the quick break in between but when she finally sobbed out a broken,

"10!"

She had to wonder if she was going to be upright by the end of this as she was sure her legs were actually about to give out this time. Not to mention the way her arousal was dripping down her thighs making the skin sticky and damp as she trembled with a desire that was literally leaking from her.

"I think we've learned our lesson right [Y/n]?" David teased his hand still on the globe of her ass rubbing the skin as if trying to soothe the burn and residual sting licking at it.

"Y-yes," [Y/n] sniffled pitifully, whimpering at his touch to her sensitive flesh.

"Ah yes what doll, don't make me have to give you another 10."

"Yes, I've learned my lesson daddy please," she begged needily, tears that she had tried to keep at bay during her punishment threatening to spill from the arousal burning in her stomach, "please I need you, please just fuck me I won't call you that again."

A little hum rumbled through his throat as [Y/n] turned to look at him, and as if the tears in her eyes were enough, he let out a sigh before saying,

"Alright alright, needy lil' thing you aren’t you. Don't start cryin' on me sweetheart," he said giving her lower back a gentle pat, "since you did so well how 'bout I let you choose what you get?"

Oh thank god.

As much as she would love for him to keep the foreplay up she wasn't sure how long she was going to last on his fingers, or tongue for that matter. And if she was going to come she wanted it to be on his cock especially if it was going to be at work.

"Mmm want your cock, just want you inside me please." She answered with no hesitation anywhere in her tone as she turned back around to face the shelf, a sudden burst of energy flooding her veins as she heard the sound of his belt unbuckling and him unzipping his pants. "Just fuck me please I'm already so close."

"Huh just from a little spankin' doll?" He teased palming at his erection that had been straining in his boxers with one hand as the other one had its fingers brushing and rubbing [Y/n] wetness all over her slick opening making her shudder and moan. "So fuckin' messy back here, all this for me ain't it?" He purred, removing his fingers from her before rubbing her wetness over his cock. Getting himself nice and slicked with both of their arousals and groaning as he fisted himself prepping himself for her.

"Always for you daddy, only want you inside me," she groaned hotly, listening to the slick sounds behind her as she not only proved her want with words but by also taking her fingers and spreading herself open for him.

The sticky sound of her opening herself for him had both of them moaning as David took this as his cue to tap the tip of him at her entrance before slotting the thick head inside her causing both of them to shudder with matching languid low groans.

Taking one more deep breath, he grabbed at [Y/n]'s hip before sinking inside her with one fluid thrust. His cock easily breaching her walls as he slid in with barely any resistance causing [Y/n] to let out a mixture of a choked sob and a broken moan as he easily bottomed out on him. Her cunt fluttered and her body shuddered as it quickly adjusted to having him inside her.

And it didn't take him any time to begin rocking his hips, moving at a steady pace as he began to rut into her. Low pants and groans filled the air along with the sounds of flesh smacking against flesh as David held tightly onto her waist as he began to thrust.

"Oh fuck daddy yes fuck me fuck me please! Just like that," she begged breathlessly as her insides sucked at him each time he slid back inside of her trying to draw him deeper into her.

Each of his thrusts were met with her whining and him groaning noisily as she squeezed him with everything she had. Her channel rippled and leaked more of her juices as she felt her body trying to give out with each push of his hips against her. All while David was growling out the filthiest things she had heard from him outside of their bedroom.

"Got the hungriest cunt I've ever fucked you know that doll," he panted out gripping her hips roughly and pounding into her with such force that she could barely keep up with each thrust. Each one caused her to slide a bit down before she tried to scramble back into an upright position against the shelf. "Can just hear how fuckin' wet you are, doll. Bet if the whole office were here, they hear loud and clear how good you're getting fucked ain't that right?"

"Oh god yes oh fuck!" She almost yelled out partially forgetting where they were and more interested in the pleasure that was building hotter and hotter in her veins,"you fuck me so good daddy please it's so good!"

"Best this little cunt has ever had isn't it," he growled increasing his pace the sound of their fucking echoing around the room as the shelf [Y/n] was holding onto shook at the motions. Some of the items knocked into each other and she could have sworn she heard something fall but that was none of her concern at the moment.

"Mhmm I feel you squeezin' me darlin' think your about to come real soon aint' you."

"Uh-huh please, please can I come, I'm so close," her words came out as a strangled beg as she felt her body about to slide entirely down to the ground. And while she wasn't against getting fucked on her hands and knees, she wasn't particularly interested in doing it on this floor.

She still had standards.

"Please daddy please I c-can't can't hold it anymore," she wailed as her words seemingly spurred him on to fuck her harder causing her to reach a hand back to try and grab his wrist lest she fall.

David in turn took that as permission to grab her hand, yanking her towards him in an upright position and lifting one of her legs by wrapping a hand under her bent knee and bringing it to his side while his other grabbed her waist to keep her from falling over.

A clipped surprise screeched left [Y/n]'s lip at the position that caused him to slide deeper in her as she threw the arm closest to him behind his neck. Her body now angled towards him enough that they could both see each other as they raced towards their peaks.

"Gonna come on my cock aren't you doll," he growled, thrusting in shallowly before pressing and holding himself deep inside of her. "Make a mess all over us for anyone to see if they show up? I bet you like that lettin' everyone know I've been the one fuckin' you all this time."

His words made her shudder as he ground his hips against hers, causing her eyes to flutter shut just as he made her insides flutter with excitement. He had her trembling and making incoherent high-pitched whines that had his cock hardening even more as it began to throb ready to spill itself inside her.

"D-Dave please, I can't," she sobbed as he leaned down to kiss her neck before picking up his pace again, her mouth falling open as she begged him, "please let me come I'm gonna come daddy please."

A smirk crossed his thin lips as he kissed her on her cheek before nodding, his hand tightening around her waist as he began to slowly move his hips again.

"Go on then, wanna watch you rub that pretty little clit of yours while you come on my cock," he drawled huskily watching as she immediately lit up, her free hand dropping down to her front and playing with herself. “And you better scream my name when you come, you hear me?"

She nodded furiously, fingers gripping onto him while her other hand began to rub tight circles around her clit that was throbbing and pulsing with each pass of her digits. Her breathing became erratic and her insides began to seize up with each flick and stroke at her swollen bead. It was like her heart was about to beat out of her chest as she felt her pussy bare down on David causing him to hiss and thrust inside her at a quicker pace.

"Daddy, daddy oh fuck," she panted out her body writhing in his arms as his sensual groans and moans near her ear had her shaking. Her strokes increased in pace and so did his thrust as they pushed themself closer and closer to the finish line with each movement.

The sound of his cock fucking her grew wetter and wetter, increasing in volume as her pussy grew tighter and tighter until,

"Dave!"

His name tumbled from her lips in a watery cry as she felt her stomach tremble and her insides convulse around his cock. The feeling of her clenching and unclenching around him over and over had him growling and cursing loudly as she began to milk him of everything he could give her. His seed came out in hot spurts as her insides drank it all while thanking him with more gentle throbs around him as he emptied himself into her.

It took a moment for them to gather their bearings as they stood there panting and staring at each other with blissed out expressions. [Y/n] moved first going to kiss the man, while running her fingers through his messy hair while he stroked her waist tenderly.

They were both a complete mess as David began to drag himself out of her, a hiss of discomfort leaving [Y/n] due to how sore she felt along with how her underwear went back into place causing all his seed to begin to pool in the ruined piece of fabric when he put her leg down.

A shower was most definitely needed after this.

But there was also something else on her mind as she tried to straighten her outfit to make it look like she hadn't just been fucked six ways to Sunday. Hard thing to do considering she was about to walk limp from this no doubt.

"You know I told you so," she said, turning to look at David who was just finishing redoing his belt, and looking a bit more disheveled than he usually did.

"Told me what?"

"When I said I was worried 'bout you and an audience I told you you would hate it," she grinned up at him as she helped straighten his tie and shirt.

There was a twitch of his lips as he frowned at her, yet amusement glinted in his eyes at her little statement.

"Aw now don't you start with me again about that," he grunted, taking her hand that was messing with his shirt in his own and kissing it.

A giggle left her lips at his action right before he was leaning down to kiss her on the cheek, his five o'clock shadow tickling her and making her giggle even more.

"I'm sorry, daddy," she teased sweetly, laughing as his lips moved over towards hers, nipping it lovingly and causing her to grin.

"Of course you are doll,” he sighed exasperatedly as he watched her eyes shine with mirth. “Now let's get outta here before someone comes lookin. If I 'member correctly I'm pretty sure Matty suppose to be coming in later for somethin'."

The change of demeanor from [Y/n] was frighteningly quick as she pushed herself away from him as if he had burned her, a deep scowl on her face.

"David Friedman have you lost your goddamn mind!" She hissed, bolting to the door, pressing her ear to the cold metal of it and listening to see if she could hear footsteps, "if that man finds us- you know he still has it out for you because of last time Dave!"

"Well that's why I'm tellin’ you now doll, best get a move on," he chuckled watching her open the door carefully and looking around the corner before she turned to look at him. Her eyes still narrowed as she glared at him.

"Also I better be getting late dinner after this David, can't believe I let you- oh lord I can't even," she huffed not even finishing her thought as she opened the door fully and scurried out of it since the coast was clear.

Following behind her he couldn't help but let out a loud guffaw as he watched her grab her purse from underneath her desk before hurrying past him, off to the bathroom to clean herself.

“Late night dinner doll, that’s fine with me,” he teased as she went past him causing her to turn around and stick her tongue out at him before continuing on her way.

Sigh, he was going to be the death of her one day.

A/N: So glad these horny ones did not get caught. Though I'm sure their coworker will find the evidence room trashed and be like you what the fuck. Anyways I hope all like it, please shout at me about what you think!

See you guys!! 😘😘

#david friedman x reader #alan rickman character #alan rickman #blossoms writing #smut

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anulithots · 29 days

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9 people you want to know better!

Thank you to @squarebracket-trickster for the tag!! (her post here)

Current book: Jujutsu Kaisen light novel: Thorny Road at dawn. IT IS EVERTHING I'VE EVER WANTED SLICE OF LIFE JJK AAA- Also also, fills in a few narrative gaps and helps with my overanalyzing. Part of the reason I love books and have to take my time with shows is because my brain tends to wander to overanalyze while reading/watching something. So books work with that better.

Current fic: None rn, but Carry me home Is so ridiculously good. Time travel suguru-centric fix-it-fic that doubles as a character deep dive. It's absolutely amazing.

Currently watching: Just finished watching Murder Drones episode seven and... holy herbs... holy herbs... what.

Next on my watch list: Rewatching Jujutsu Kaisen with siblings. Then rewatching the promised Neverland with siblings.

Current hyperfixation: JUJUTSU KAISEnNNNN! I want to do full analysis's of all the major characters soon... maybe when the manga ends?? ALSO EDITS GALORE I'M GOING TO LEARN HOW TO EDIT MANGA WHOOPDEEDOO. (I think my brain is slowly detaching from overanalyzing Gojo and will go back to overanalyzing the Tokyo Trio, specifically Itadori because he's my absolute fav.)

Last song:

youtube

On repeat. Also 'Is this what Love is' by Waisia Project has been on repeat before this. THEY ARE BOTH SO SO GOOD HIGHLY RECCOMENDED

Fav colour: Green and purple. The soft ones. Sage green with a rich purple or a soft dark purple compliment. I like warmer purple. And forests have the most lovely shades of green. Soft brush taps upon the treetops and patches of purple flowers beneath the richest red I've ever seen. (Japanese maple)

Sweet/spicy/savory?: Noo idea honestly. Sweets are nice. I'm slightly more spicy tolerant than average where I live. But compared to my family members? I'm mild tolerance. Savory is wonderous. I like chickpeas and rice the best for those.

.... Overall, I'm a fan of texture over taste.

Relationship status: Is it romantic feelings? nope. Is it a friendship squish? nope. It's a secret third thing. (the longing for a comfort person to obsess over and talk to for hours and have a queer platonic relationship because I don't want to be alone and I like making other people feel seen and heard. I don't care for the whole feeling labels when it comes to this sort of stuff. I just like fluff <3)

Last thing I googled: Something either biology or JJK related. I'm hoping my biology hyperfixation picks back up before the exams in a month.

Copied from @squarebracket-trickster:

I love when the people I tag @ me and/or link back to my post. I love it when you reblog my post with questions, compliments, words of encouragement about my WIP, or even no comment at all. But please make your own post to complete this tag. Please do not turn my post into a reblog chain.

Lovely people I want to dissect under a microscope,/aff therefore gentle tag: @awleeofficial @holdmyteaplease @bygeto @waitingforthesunrise @gummybugg @imslowlydisintegrating @bassguitarinablackt-shirt @littlebookworm69 @forthesanityofstorytellers

#murder drones #jjk #tag game #Youtube

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firendgold · 7 days

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Ok so bc anything i do in this fandon is specifically to piss that woman off, i gotta ask:

Do you have any ideas for fic scenarios for trans!albus and/or trans!Harry? (time travel harrydore or not, you pick)

so funny story anon, my instinctual answer for this question was "no, I've never thought about it, sorry"—but as I was writing that reply a while back, I actually started getting ideas. It was wild. (That's also why this took so long to get out, sorry!)

trans!Albus is easier for me to imagine for some reason. I had this idea where his entire early life could be rewritten just to do a deep dive into the Dumbledore family dynamics when the firstborn prodigy half-blood son is AFAB instead. How that might change Percival's actions on Ariana's behalf (or not), if he doesn't have any thoughts in the back of his mind about leaving his family in his "eldest son's" hands. How that could change the rivalry between Albus and Aberforth, who might not be super tolerant of an uppity older sister who's also queer. We still don't know much about Kendra somehow, after 1 billion years of Pottermore, but whether or not she's accepting of Albus' gender identity and sexuality could be their own spin-off fanfics, they're that fascinating. Her own Native history could then be touched on as well.

All these things together could be a point of personal conflict for Albus, who's already a living embodiment of a taboo Native/European union and might have to wrestle with what's accepted from him as a Good and Proper Woman of English society re: marriage and carrying on some (other) pureblood's line, along with protecting Ariana's secret and "making up" for his father's crimes.

I don't know if Albus' sexuality changes. If it doesn't, I can see him being briefly confused about What Elphias Is To Him when he gets older, and Elphias is getting his own messages from home about How Much Time He's Spending With That Dumbledore Girl. I imagine there would be a lot of conversations between Albus and Kendra, and Albus and other peers, about who he was going to marry and what his "prospects" were since his father's a known criminal. And Albus, beyond not identifying as a girl at all, would find all this discussion about such trivial sexist matters frustrating as hell.

Unfortunately, I see everyone at Hogwarts misgendering Albus while he's a student, or pretty much everyone. Like, he eventually tells Elphias who accepts right away (and is confused about What That Means for Him in private), and maybe a few other students, but none of his professors are Getting It. His stellar academic record probably keeps him from being bullied as much, but doesn't entirely protect him from rampant transmisogyny and slurs when he outperforms people.

But regardless, assuming the "major beats" of history play out the same way, I can see Albus being a lot more proactive re: marginalized rights than he already was in canon, and perhaps moving the overall British Society Needle way further to the left, because it's one thing to talk shit about the powerful, progressive, weird old man that no one really knows is gay but can kick your arse without breathing hard, but another thing entirely to talk shit about your trans, out and proud, progressive Supreme Mugwump who has already freed all the elves, speaks all the magical creature/Being languages, is raising your kids at school better than you are at home, AND is still gay and can still kick your arse without breathing hard.

This is all, of course, imagining that Albus is AFAB and identifies as male. If it's the other way around and Albus is AMAB and identifies as female... I can't even imagine. I'm not cool enough ig

As for Harry, it's weird but I don't have any trans headcanons for him during his Hogwarts years. It's kind of similar to how I don't read many genderbent!Harry fics unless I adore the author, because even though I'm a girl I can't imagine Harry IDing as one for some reason. (I'm very limited, I know.) BUT. For some reason this changes when you bring in time travel harrydore.

With the ship as the parameter, I can imagine an AFAB Harry who's spent his whole life chafing at the clothes Aunt Petunia gets him—because 'unfortunately' (for her), even pre-puberty, she can't just give Harry Dudley's cast-offs unless she wants The Neighbors to start lifting eyebrows and asking questions—because they're girl clothes and along with just not fitting in to the Pristine Pretentious Family with her messy hair and tight clothes and taped-up glasses, Harry has never felt like a girl. He insisted on having people call him 'Harry' as soon as he could talk and get away with it, and only has to hear his deadname from his teachers and with the Dursleys.

This all of course changes once McGonagall is reading names on the Sorting List in 1991 and just barely doesn't stumble over Harry's preferred name being on the list instead. (She is surprised only because Harry is famous. By the time Harry goes to school, there have been many other out trans students in this headcanon. But probably very few under her eye have been quite this famous.)

I've always personally headcanoned Harry as bisexual, but I don't know if that would be the case in this particular headcanon. I can still see him going after Cho, and perhaps even Ginny. I can see him having the same confusion about What Are Ron and I To Each Other that a trans!Albus had about Elphias a century ago, without ever living his Hogwarts life as a girl to anyone but his enemies (and having a lot of friction with canon!Hermione and/or Lavender as a result). I can see Draco hating Harry even more, because he always kept "her" in the back of his mind as a Dark Lady he could serve under in all ways, only to have this... boy being his rival and Quidditch better and wanting absolutely nothing to do with the Malfoys or purebloods or knowing her place.

A thought that sticks in the back of my mind is that JKR (otherwise known by me as That Woman (derogatory)) specifically wrote Harry as a boy for a lot of reasons, and the main one being that she always planned for him to live and pass on his line in the "traditional" way, and having her titular character be a girlboss would've derailed that status quo. In a universe where Harry is AFAB, I can imagine a lot of related conversations with and around Harry about this. How "she" is "the last Potter" that there will ever be, because naturally she'll marry into one of the families and the name will be lost forever. I can see this being a real bone of contention with Harry and radicalizing him, along with Voldemort and the discrimination against werewolves and house-elves and centaurs and veela (which I doubt even one dedicated Dumbledore would be able to get rid of), making him take his place as the next generation leftist magical powerhouse.

And so how does all that change his relationship with Dumbledore? I... don't really see it changing much. If both characters are trans, that's another point of connection for them that bonds them through all the mess the government and society puts them through. It makes Albus a figure for Harry to admire as a young boy ("look, the most powerful wizard in the world is just like me!") and to still anguish about as a young man ("all the choices he made that I don't agree with, all the secrets he kept from me, how do I know I won't make the same mistakes or make no better progress than he did?"). Their relationship could be all the more painful or distant if one of them is out and one is in the closet, like an Albus who never came out or transitioned and is seeing in Harry the upright boy he could have been, or if Harry is resentful of Albus living his truth because he, a knobbly-kneed adolescent girl, doesn't have the power, freedom, or influence to be who he truly wants to be.

But focus! I'm focusing! Time travel Harrydore. The specific scenario I was imagining was one where AFAB Harry never comes out to the general public. His loved ones who are his peers know, but all the adults in his life (yes, including Remus and Sirius) never get to meet him properly. They die thinking of him as "James' daughter". And after defeating Voldemort, Harry just can't take the idea of spending any more time not being the person he wants to be. He's done being the Girl-Who-Lived so he writes goodbye letters to Ron and Hermione and does some ancient ritual without anyone knowing, and instead of changing him at the molecular level it flings him back to the past.

And so unlike a lot of time travel fics (including mine lol) where Harry is grieving his true time and desperate to get back home, this Harry misses his friends terribly, but it doesn't take long for him to see being an unknown in a different time as a golden opportunity. Sure, it would have been better if he'd been flung into the future instead and maybe had more tolerant people instead of less, but no one knows who he's "supposed" to be here. So he can grow into the man he truly is!

And so while Harry is setting up his new life for himself (maybe as some personal tutor, or a backup Quidditch player, or something that keeps him out of the limelight for once?), he runs into trans!Albus who doesn't have many friends and not much else going on for him (depending on who or where Grindelwald is right then), and Harry's nervous but they hit it off and become close friends, and one thing leads to another, and...

*cackles*

Also also, and sorry for sticking this all the way at the end lol, but MUCH RESPECT for hanging around in HPF just to stick in the craw of That Woman. I think I'm adopting your philosophy for the future. ^^

#thanks for the ask!#headcanons #fireandgold #fireandgoldposts #trans!Albus Dumbledore #trans!Harry Potter #Albus Dumbledore #Harry Potter #there's a lot of misgendering in this ask for the purposes of the headcanon imagine so I'm sorry about that #I tried to use Albus and Harry's preferred pronouns as much as possible

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hiding-under-the-willow · 11 months

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please tell me more abt Yancy in mark TV

Okay so my thoughts on Yancy in all the Markiplier TV stuff is really a mash up if a lot of different headcanons I've collected from different places and then some.

So like, big fan of the headcanon that Yancy is one of Mark and Celine's kids, and he ended up in prison cause he got blamed for the events of wkm. I know it's not perfectly supported by the canon or anything but it's fun, so, y’know, who cares. I can do whatever I want lol. And then I don't know how common this headcanon actually is bc I picked it up from like one specific fic, but Yancy as the security guard for Wilford's club in Wilford Motherloving Warfstache.

So like, Yancy grows up in Markiplier Manor for most of his life, Celine gets custody during the divorce, the events of wkm happen (maybe Yancy is the one who told Celine about the poker night, having heard about it from William, and that's why Celine shows up in the middle of wkm?) So then when Celine goes off and never comes back he goes out looking for her, police show up while he's there, and between intense unethical police interrogations and the fucked up house immensely fucking with his head, he ends up convinced he did do the crime and pleads guilty, landing him in Happy Trails eventually. Canon ensues, Yancy decides he's gonna get out on parole after God knows how long he's been in there. At some point he meets Wilford, neither of them recognize eachother really, but there is like, some subconscious shit working definitely. Wilford's like, 'hey do you want to work at my club? I'll walk you right out of this fucking prison' and Yancy is like 'nah man, I'm gonna keep on track to make parole, do this the right way, but if the job offer is still open in a few months 👀' and Wilford's like 'okay, sick' and so when Yancy gets out a few month's later, there's Wilford inexplicably, ready to pick him up. And so he goes to work as security at the club, and things are actually pretty chill most of the time, so Yancy's got a lot of free time to do his own thing, and he's got no fucking clue where Wil's money comes from but he gets payed well, so he's enjoying the job, even if maybe he'd rather be performing. He does some community theater stuff here and there, occasionally performs in the club, often ends up ranting about his narrative ideas to Wil after hours. And eventually Wil is like 'hey, you know I own a TV network right? I could give you a show.' And Yancy absolutely fucking takes that opportunity. Which is how he ends up at Markiplier TV.

I feel like his show(s) would be this weird tonal mess where it's like a Disney Channel musical sitcom, there's songs and comedy and it's all very much giving young teen drama with constant bits and inconsistent lore, but then the storylines all deal with very serious and realistic topics. There's fucked up families, and deep dives into the horrors of the American prison system, and death, and grief, all portrayed very realistically and with all the complexity they deserve. But also all of the character's act like disney sitcom characters the second they're not handling the serious stuff, and there's always at least one musical number per episode. It's actually probably really cool if you're into weird shit like that (as I absolutely would be), the video essays discussing it are probably insane. But it maybe doesn't speak to the average audience lmao. Yancy doesn't really realize and doesn't care. It's reaching the audiences it needs to.

Anyways I think him and Bim get along the vast majority of the time, they've got a mutual love of theater and a mutual hatred of Ed, cause I mean, look at Ed's lore and then look at Yancy. Yeah Yancy fucking hates Ed and his whole deadbeat dad thing. Luckily fights around the office are so common here that it's pretty easy for Yancy to get away with punching Ed in the face a little bit any time he says some asshole shit. Also maybe everyone turns a little bit of a blind eye to it. So really he feels right at home.

I think Google freaks him out from the get-go, and he's a little more interested in trying to get some info on the weird android shit from Bing at first, but quickly finds out that Bing can be like twice as uncanny as Google, and so he just kind of ends of steering clear of both after not too long in the office. I think they grow on him eventually but it takes some warming up lol

I think he and The Host actually get along. Like, maybe he freaked Yancy out a little bit at first, and then he started to realize the two of them had a lot in common in terms of their opinions and beliefs, and instantly he started getting all buddy buddy with the guy, and then it was the Host's turn to be a little freaked out, cause he's not exactly used to people being so enthusiasticlly friendly towards him. So they become friends. Yancy's always there to make sure he gets included in work get togethers and such since some of the other guys find him intimidating.

Dr. Iplier finds him a little exasperating seeing ad he is probably constantly getting hurt and also constantly leading to other injuries around the office (mostly Ed's, let's be honest), but, y’know, his enthusiasm and friendliness around the office probably win him over eventually, and his kindness to the Host probably helps.

The Jims and Yancy get along great, in fact Yancy is probably the only person around the office who actively gets along with them besides Wilford.

Wilford is always very supportive of Yancy, and Yancy still picks up shifts at the club a few times a week. I think maybe he's the only one who's met Abe out of everyone else at the office bc of his job. Abe knows who Yancy is and has tried dropping hints to Wil a few times, but they are not getting picked up. So it just kind of goes unspoken.

Dark and Yancy absolutely have the strangest dynamic. Dark definitely knows who Yancy is. Yancy does not know who Dark is, but I think he recognizes bits of his mother in Dark's personality and actions, and it freaks him out. Some one points put once that Dark and Yancy look alike and that they've got matching moles under their eyes and Dark leaves without saying anything, visibly upset, and Yancy starts wearing a bandaid over that cheek every day after. No one brings up that shit again. Dark basically let's Yancy get away with anything around the office, seemingly from a sense of guilt. Funds any ideas he has, let's him get away with bending rules, or beating the shit out of Ed, or whatever. But then Yancy does something minor, or something that puts himself in danger, and Dark starts lecturing, and Yancy gets real pissed off. The office stays tense for several days after every time. I think those are just about the only times at which Wil starts to recognize him. He usually doesn't sit on the thought for very long, as he's prone to do. But maybe he treats Yancy to a little something the next day any time one of those arguments goes down. It helps a bit, for both of them.

I don't think he knows the details of what went down in the manor, or that he's seen Mark since, or that he knows about Dark and Mark's whole fucking thing, and I hate to think about how incredibly badly it would go if he did find out.

#atlas speaks #this one is long lmao #big fan of this guy's whole thing #love being like 'i hate to think about how badly...' as if i didn’t make up the scenario in which that traumatizing shit would happen💀

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adonis-koo · 1 year

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I'm so in love with chapter 15! Wicked has really become one of my favorites and ifjei I have so much to say about it! It's just fricking great you have no idea 😭

I love all those emotions you put in there! Their personalities feel so real. Hot headed prince and the gentle, but very emotional Mc. I understand both sides on that one conflict at the end. Jk had to do what he did. He grew up way different. He had to face the cruel world at a very young age. Penumbra isn't like Enoia. It's pure chaos. Either you protect yourself by building a wall over your heart or you go down. I get why he mistrusted her for a bit. It's for safety. Doesn't make the truth any less painful and right. He's definitely in the wrong and i hope he gets on his knees. Tho I must also say that the Mc isn't all innocent as well. She completely went behind his back and went to the underside and disregarded his feelings. Calling him a lair and all. She's so hurt and emotional by everything he said and didn't say that she is also the one who hurt him in the progress. It may not be on purpose, but she did. It confused me for a second, because she was known for being gentle and understanding, but in that moment she didn't understand him at all. She didn't even try where he was coming from. The feeling of pain was so overwhelming that she disregarded his feelings, called him a lair and basically went behind his back for no reason.

It was reckless for her to go to the underside, especially without letting anyone know. It makes me so impossibly angry that she thinks she's the only one hurt, because Wheein is in prison. As if Jk hasn't got any feelings at all. He even was all tired because of all the work he had to do, not only political matters, but also the thing with wheein. He fell asleep and she ran away. He was worried sick, because she wasn't there. He may not be good with words, but his actions speak them all. He cares and for her to just say his feelings are insincere, makes me so upset. Especially because HE was the one getting angry when she said her life basically didn't matter. It speaks volumes. She's not a victim, she's also at fault. Both of them are. I hope she apologizes to him as well. He started that whole thing and she continued. I hope they can resolve the issue and understand each other better. :(

The whole thing feels so real and I'm so impressed how much character you put into this fic. I'm so in love with it! Thank you thank you thank you. It's a masterpiece and I hope you know it. ^-^

(sorry if I wrote the name of the countries wrong, I couldn't remember how it was spelled. I'm no professional english speaker as well so, I'll apologize for every mistake that's in these paragraphs too 🥺)

First of all I can’t thank you enough for your thoughts on this chapter!! I LOVE deep diving into situations and characters. You have so many valid points about Jungkook and MC! However I’d like to impart a little bit of my thoughts on the writing process in hopes of easing the blow a little.

There are a few big overarching themes in this series, one being duality and the other being not everything is as it seems; don’t believe everything you hear.

While Jungkook had to face the cruel world at a very young age, so did MC, they are two sides to the same coin in this series, both on opposite teams of a war but still suffering trauma from it. MC has been vocal about it, if this chapter as told us anything lol, but Jungkook doesn’t bare his heart that easily, we will eventually get to hear his side of the five year war, as it most certainly affected him (being a child soldier). But the big thing I wanted to set up here was that that not everything is as it seems.

Eunoia is first set up as a Kingdom centered around nature and peace, giving and expecting nothing in return. A divine and sacred space. But as the series has continued, it’s revealed that it’s only been this way for a very short moment in time. They have an immeasurable amount of blood on their hands and sins on their shoulders as they used to be cannibals. I haven’t strictly used the word in the story but it’s heavily alluded too when the word ‘devour’ is used. Penumbra is called heathenistic nation in the beginning but as it turns out, they hardly are.

Eunoia however, cannot say the same. Duality again plays a big role in the story, while MC is supposed to be a gentle, understanding person (and she is!) she is still human. And she is more times then less, very stubborn and headstrong and she is incredibly temperamental in moments and hot headed herself. It states in the chapter that ‘it’s known by her family that she’s always had a temper’ this was a set up and both acknowledgement from her, and while she is reckless, she’s not above admitting that she is. In fact there’s actually a scene in chapter 16 of her talking about her innocence being non existent (which makes me sad in the sense that I can’t talk about this in further detail because it’s not out)

I think the biggest thing to understand is that MC does not parade around like a victim intentionally, she does however talk about her pain and her tribulations a lot, she’s been through much and she can’t stand it when someone tries to undermine it, when someone tries to say that she’s had an easy life because she’s from Eunoia, it may come across as victim playing but she doesn’t mean it as such, and if someone were to say it (because let’s be real it’s bound to happen soon), she’ll immediately rein it in. This isn’t to say she’s in the right in any way possibly, I’m only giving some perspective on where she’s coming from!

Jungkook however is both similar and yet different from her, he’s titled the wicked prince and yet there’s a certain softness about him that I wanted to incorporate, he’s very understanding and forgiving to those he loved despite everything he’s endured, he isn’t an aggressive or hot headed person by nature, it’s been trained into him at a young age but it’s still not something that comes easy to him.

I suppose what I’m trying to say, is that Jungkook and MC and both deeply flawed and complex people, the stereotype traits that they were supposed to have, ended up being what the other actually embodies deep down (a soft prince and head strong Princess among other traits). Not only that but they still embody the empathic Princess and cold prince. They are all of these traits above and yet they utilize them in different ways, they are both very different , they come from different upbringings, different kingdoms, different beliefs and yet they are almost the same.

The biggest takeaway from this story morally is to never believe what you hear until you experience it for yourself. Because you might find that Penumbra isn’t nearly as horrendous and heathanistic as they all said it was, but you might discover along the way the grotesque history of Eunoia.

Once again I can’t thank you enough for your thoughts on this chapter! I didn’t mean to ramble so long but I don’t think I’ve had the opportunity to touch on this before so I wanted to take it while I had that chance! 🫶🖤

#missy answers #fic: wicked #anon

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snickerdoodlles · 2 years

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i said i was gonna ask about 3 so I am, I simply must know. plus 2 of them are so personal to me they’re basically freebies so yknow 🤷‍♀️

knitter pran thots (bc it’s me so obviously)

soft boi lies (bc that was me! i said that! im legally required to see the fruits of my random rambling)

CODE CRQCKED LIVING LARGE (bc it’s probably the one I have the least clue what it is lol 😂)

one of these days im going to have to hold myself back from telling you about a WIP just so that I can actually surprise you with a totally new idea 🤣

'knitter pran thots' is ofc specifically for u, even though i will probably ask you for help in coming up with a knitting pun for the title lol. its about the shape of Pat and Pran's love and how invested they are right from when they start to date. the starting snippet:

Paa always tells Pat he gets too invested, too quick when it comes to his relationships. Pat's not sure why she bothers—he can’t help it that he loves so quickly, so largely, so loudly—but there are times when he wonders what she might say about him and Pran and the shape of their love. Pran, who’s always been Pat’s largest and longest investment, whose mere presence is its own gravity for Pat.

Pran loves to knit. He likes the way the stitches clear his mind, the way the yarn slips soft over his fingers, the satisfaction of a project borne before his eyes. It’s something he shyly tucks away from others into the hidden corners of his room, his feelings tied to yarn hidden the same as all his others, only recently revealed to Pat during their last movie night. It takes gratuitous application of his puppy eyes and pleading questions, but Pran soon begins to bloom the more he tells Pat about his favorite yarns and tricky patterns.

Like always, Pat dives in head first and deep. His search history is a dictionary of knitting terms, his online carts are filled with yarns and needles and patterns. Eventually he even finds his ways over to the forum boards, where several aunties and cousins are delighted to aid his quest in learning more about his boyfriend’s favorite hobby.

and then Pat's going to learn about the boyfriend sweater curse. he's not superstitious, per se, just also vvvvvvvv wary of ever being considered Pran's bad luck jinx again :C and Pran's going to gently take his face and be like "the boyfriend curse is only a problem for people in mediocre relationships. the knitter spends a lot of time and money making a mediocre guy a sweater that he doesn't ever appreciate, then the knitter realizes they don't have to settle for someone half-assing a relationship, and a breakup follows because their relationship already had issues that the sweater issue exposed. but i don't have to worry about that, because you're a sticky nuisance i've had my whole life. now, i have three patterns to modify for your stupidly huge shoulders, so stop squirming or i will tie you up 😤"

and Pat's like 🥺 owh, this is our forever 🥰 and everything is soft and happy

soft boy lies is HERE and brb, currently laughing over how i'd left off some of the smuttier WIP titles yet the first 2 asks were about the filthiest WIP on the list ajfhjf (i'll finish a smut fic one of these days I SWEAR, they're just stupidly long orz)

akdfjk you actually know about 'CODE CRQCKED LIVING LARGE', i just have a wonky title!!! it's the fic about bby!Pran & Pat inspired by that time my mom taught me how to forge her signature when i was seven !! the doc has that title because i've actually had this story idea since before episode 6, i just hated the way it was coming out and had finally moved the WIP to the discard pile a few weeks ago. but talking to you about it finally got the wheels turning, so i started a new doc to rewrite the old mess it used to be 😂

gonna try to summarize this idea for ppl outside our DMs, but basically my mom taught me how to sign her signature when i was seven as a 'fuck you' to a teacher that made me cry. so im projecting that experience onto Pran. then Dissaya thinks it'd be hilarious to send her lil bby out to sign for a delivery for her, so Pran and Chai go to inspect a delivery and bby!Pran v carefully inspects a like. hardware delivery or whatever next to a straight-faced Chai before signing Dissaya's name for the order while the big burly delivery guys look on v bemused

but Pat sees Pran doing that and he puffs up because he wants to do Big Important Grownup Stuff too!!!! but Ming doesn't get why Pat's trying to insist on being there for a delivery and after the last time when Pat got underfoot for a lumber delivery and nearly squished, Ming's not going to let him anywhere dangerous. so he sits Pat down in his office to stay there, bby Pat's like 😤 fine, i shall do OTHER Important Grownup Stuff!!!!

and scribbles all over Ming's paperwork because he is the Best Helper

its not until Ming comes back to fetch Pat that Pat stops to think "wait i should've asked first D:" and he and Ming just kinda. stare at each other for a hot minute before Ming suddenly doubles over and starts laughing. like shit, his kid just created a week's worth of work and sleepless nights to fix this mess, but by god is his son the cutest and sweetest kid??? he laughs about it the whole way home and thru trying to explain it to his wife, and the next week he gets Pat his own lil hardhat and clipboard so Pat can follow the store workers around and do Big Important Grownup Stuff. mind you, Pat doesn't actually know what he's supposed to do with this stuff, so he mostly follows a worker around for a little bit drawing dinosaurs or stick figures and giving the doodles to the store workers when their tasks are finished. these doodles are coveted by the workers, he is their favorite kid in the world

still working out the ending, but it's gonna be Pat & Pran post-Singapore return hearing these childhood stories from the senior employees and they're both simultaneously delighted & horrified because on one hand, childhood stories that they didn't previously have full context for, but on the other, "why do you all even still remember this, pls stop giving my boyfriend blackmail fodder 😭"

[[ WIP ask game ]]

#ask game #WIP shenanigans #THIS GOT SO LONG hjfhfhjf sorry friends i tried to edit it down where i could #but also i be a rambler so uh #dont think i succeed oops #anyways im trying to think of a tag for u jemmo i feel like im long overdue for one #*by tag i mean smth silly besides just ur url lmao #bad buddy #mine: bad buddy #bbs with jemmo

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gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years

Text

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 38

Sorry for the delay. Real life gets out of hand. But here it is! The antepenultimate chapter.

Shout out to @asongeverlasting for beta reading for me and making sure I actually got this out.

Check her writing out on AO3 as Ramblingwren

(Master post)

(Read the fic in a more condensed on Ao3)

(The latest chapter will be up on there once this reaches over 500 notes on tumblr)

Hope you all enjoy

_____________________________________________________________

“I shouldn’t have let her go out there.”

Fu watched the school nurse, Angela, fret as she paced back and forth.

“I understand your concern, but I believe that it will all be alright. Ladybug and Chat Noir haven’t failed in handling an akuma yet,” he explained. “The girl will be okay.”

The nurse stopped pacing.

“I appreciate your optimism but… I am really not used to this,” She said as she gestured to the air.

Fu blinked at the statement.

“Oh?”

“This! This whole thing! Super villains that appear whenever someone gets sad, teenagers with superpowers! This is all new to me! I just moved to Paris a month ago from the countryside. All I wanted was to further my education and get work in the medical field. It… It boggles my mind that everyone in this city is so okay with all of this! Even my new boyfriend Curtis is able to shrug off an akuma attack like a sudden drizzle. This isn’t normal!”

The guardian could tell the young woman was distressed, and he couldn’t blame her. In a way, he envied her. This was all foreign for her, but to him, this was his entire life.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blow up like that. I've had a lot to deal with, and this whole situation is just so…”

Fu moved to her and helped her sit down.

“It’s alright, this is by no means a good situation. Your concerns are very understandable. I can tell that deep down that your frustration and fear come from compassion and empathy. You will make a wonderful doctor one day.”

She took a deep breath.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much I really needed to hear that today.”

“How about I teach you a medication technique that will help you calm down?”

“Meditation? I'm not really one for that kind of stuff.”

“If one wants to be a doctor, being able to calm down and handle an emergency situation is a must.”

The school nurse agreed that he had a good point, and that this may help get her mind off of things.

“Okay, I guess I'll give it a shot.”

Fu smiled.

“Good. Let us start simple. Close your eyes and put your hands together.”

Angela felt the action was a bit odd but complied.

“Now, take a deep breath. Count to 5 in your head and then breathe out.”

She took her breath and followed the order.

“Whenever you feel a thought come to your head, simply picture yourself putting it out of your mind and into a bucket.”

She tried her best to comply.

As she did this, Fu moved behind her and quickly pinched a nerve on her neck, causing the young woman to seize up for a moment before losing consciousness.

“That will help her relax.”

He carefully moved her to the cot and laid a sheet over her like a blanket.

Once it was clear that she was asleep, a turtle kwami flew out of hiding.

“So, what do we do now, Master?”

Fu took a moment to consider.

His plan was already in motion. Ladybug and Chat Noir had plenty of allies to help fight the akuma. All that needed to be done was to sit down and wait.

But as he thought about it more, he couldn’t help but think that he should go in personally. It was what he'd initially planned to do with akuma, after all. Listening to this young woman’s fears made him really see how his inaction has led to such fear and uncertainty.

For once, it was time for him to go on the offensive.

“Now we head out and find this akuma.”

“Master, you already sent out three miraculous. Let the other heroes handle this,” Wayzz insisted.

“The people of Paris should not have to become used to this. I have been far too lax with this situation. Right now, Ladybug and Chat Noir are facing their most dangerous akuma yet. For decades I have always remained passive in order to avoid making another mistake, but I have already made so many with my inaction. It's time I stop letting my actions be dictated by fear.”

“But Master, you can’t transform! Your body is too old to handle it!”

“Fear not, Wayzz. I have been exercising and restoring my vitality with the techniques of the guardians. By my estimation, I should be able to maintain the transformation without too much issue for 10 minutes,” Fu assured.

“That is not a lot of time, Master!” Wayzz pointed out.

“True, but it is better than nothing. We will head out and wait for the moment we need it. Be ready, Wayzz.”

The old guardian started heading to the door.

“But Master, what if you get captured? What if the akuma does succeed and you are unable to step in?”

Fu paused at the door.

“I know you are concerned for me. I appreciate your care. But I need to go out there. I have lived a long life, Wayzz, far longer than most humans. One day I may not be here to be the guardian.”

Wayzz felt a pang of sorrow hearing his Master talk about how he would no longer be around.

“But that’s okay. I know that when that time comes… I have two young heroes that will be ready to stand up and fight. The best thing an old man like me can do is pave the road for them.” The guardian said with certainty. He went to open the door.

“Fu…”

The old man stopped. Turning around, he saw the turtle kwami he had known for most of his life smile at him.

“I know you think of yourself as a failure of a guardian… but Su Han and the others were wrong. You are a great one. You are the most caring guardian that has ever held the title. And I will be by your side to the end.”

The old man felt his eyes well up at the sweet comment.

“Then let’s go, Partner.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The dragon heroine grabbed the confused snake hero and moved him to the closest room before closing the door.

“Okay we should be safe here,” she said as she looked over to her comrade. It was clear that Viperion was still very confused. It did not help that both his and her miraculous were beeping. They didn't have much time.

“Thanks… ummm,” Viperion started as he tried to rack his brain for a name. Part of him felt like he should know her. But his mind is blank.

“Ryuuko. You can call me Ryuuko. And you are Viperion.”

“Okay… weird name for me, but I guess it works.”

Ryuuko realized that the bubble Viperion had been put in wasn’t just to keep him frozen in place. One of the side effects must have been leaving him without any memory of who he was. Had her partner been aware of that risk when he took the bubble for her? She couldn’t know for sure. But right now, she needed to focus on the task at hand. Shehad to take charge since her partner was out of sorts.

“Okay, 'll try to explain this as quickly as possible.”

“Your real name is Luka. But when you are in your hero form, you go by Viperion.”

“Hero form...”

He looked down.

“Well, that does explain the costumes. I thought it was some sort of weird costume party.”

Ryuuko decided to ignore that.

“Okay, so I'm a hero. And you're one too?”

“Yes. We are both heroes picked by Ladybug to help her fight villains. Right now, we're fighting a bunch of them, and you got your memory wiped by one of their attacks. That’s why you are confused. Any questions?”

The boy took a moment to look himself over and then look at her. This was a lot of information to take in. Ryuuko was half expecting him to call her crazy. Which, given how bizarre the circumstances were, she wouldn’t blame him.

“Okay, I think if it was anyone else telling me this, I would have called it a load of bull. But… I don’t know why but I feel like I can trust you. You sound sincere,” Viperion responded.

“Okay great, now let's…”

“I still have a few questions.”

Ryuuko sighs.

“Look, we really don’t have much time. We need to hurry and get out there to help…”

And just before she finished the statement, both of their transformations wore off. Revealing their civilian forms.

“Oh no.” Kagami muttered in horror.

“What happened? Where am I… What am I?” The snake kwami questioned as he looked at himself.

“It appears that Sass was also impacted by the amnesia.” The dragon kwami that popped out of her necklace commented.

Luka stared wide eyed at the creature.

“Are you a snake?”

“A snake? I suppose?”

“A snake with limbs? That is very rock and roll.”

The two fistbumped. Thankfully they seemed to get along.

Longg looked at them.

“This is quite a predicament.”

“We need to hurry back in. Longg! Bring the….”

“Hold on a moment. Both Sass and I will not be able to do that yet.”

Kagami stopped.

“How come?”

“We need to refuel. The energy of transforming AND using our unique powers drains a lot out of us. We need some food to continue.”

“Food… Okay.”

The snake Kwami grabbed his stomach.

“I find myself rather famished,” he commented.

Luka looked at him.

“Let me see if I can help you out.”

The teen took off the backpack he was wearing to go through it. Thankfully there was a bag lunch in there. For some reason he felt that was important. But decided that if it could help the little guy out, he was sure it wouldn’t be a big deal.

He opened the bag lunch and pulled out a bag of apple slices. Opening it to grab a piece.

“I know snakes usually are carnivores, but how about some fruit?”

“Ooo! It smells divine!”

Luka handed the floating kwami a piece of the apple.

He takes a bite.

“Oh! It's delicious! Juicy and sweet!”

The snake quickly devours the apple piece.

As that happens, Kagami looked through her bag.

“I don’t have fruit but I do have some onigiri. It was my afternoon snack… but since this is a dire situation.”

“Rice? Yes please!” Longg exclaimed as he dive bombed right into the delicious rice ball.

“It’s Umeboshi, it’s not to everyone’s taste but It is one of my favorites.”

“It’s the most delicious thing I have ever eaten. The sour plum really brings a new dimension of flavor.”

Kagami smiled a bit at her kwami companion, happy that she could help.

The two Kwami finished their food and were ready for action.

“Okay, Sass. You need to help Luka transform.”

“Sass? Is that my name?” the snake inquired.

“So, he helps me transform into Viperman?”

“Viperion, and yes,” Kagami responded.

“All you need to do is say. Sass, Scales Slither. And to activate your special power just pull your bracelet back and say second chance. Then pull it back when you want to use it. But be sure not to use it right away,” Longg instructed.

“Okay seems easy enough. Are you okay with this?” Luka asked as he turned his attention to his snake pal.

“The floating horn snake seems fine with it so I say let’s give it a try”

Longg decided for the sake of his friendship with Sass to ignore the comment.

“Alright! Let's do this!” Kagami exclaimed as she prepared to transform.

“One last question.”

Kagami was starting to get antsy. She wanted to be back out there fighting. But she held back her annoyance, considering how he sacrificed his memories for her.

“Make it quick, we need to hurry.”

Luka scratches the back of his head.

“Are we a couple?”

If Kagami was drinking water she would have done a massive spit take. Her cheeks turned red.

“What?!”

“You know… together? You seem to know a lot about me, and I just feel this connection... like I can trust you even though I don’t remember anything. I don’t know how or why, but I feel like you matter to me.”

Kagami’s eyes went wide at the comment. It felt surprisingly bold of the musician to say. She had to admit that the statement made her heart skip a beat.

“No, we had just recently become friends.” Kagami responded.

“Oh…” Luka was saddened by the response.

“But, I have thought about the possibility it could be more than that one day," Kagami continued. "But that is something to discuss when you have your memory back. Maybe.”

The fencer felt her mind scream at her.

‘WHY DID YOU SAY THAT! Well, at least he won't remember.’

Luka smiled at that.

“Well, that must mean I must be a good guy, if I could have such a great friend like you.”

The teen prepared himself.

“Alright then! Sass! Scales Slither.”

The musician shifted into his hero form.

“Let’s go save the day.”

Kagami looked at her hero partner and smiled.

“Longg, Bring the storm.

______________________________________________________________________

“Well, that might be a problem.”

Chat Noir and Ladybug looked to see a stone giant guarding the front door of the classroom. The two had hidden just out of the goliath’s view.

“Any ideas on how to take down Mount Akuma?” Chat Noir questioned.

Ladybug looked at the giant from their hiding spot and began formulating a plan.

“Stoneheart grows bigger when he gets mad. These akuma aren’t really able to express their emotions. That means we don’t need to worry about him getting bigger. We just need to find a way to incapacitate him.”

“We could ask Mayura,” Chat Noir pointed out.

“We could ask… wait WHA…”

Chat Noir covered his partner’s mouth and ducked down.

“Shhhh! She’s right there,” Chat Noir hushed.

Ladybug removed the cat’s hand from her mouth and looked from the spot to see that her partner was right. Mayura was in the building!

“She actually showed up?” Oh, this is a lot more serious than we thought. Hawkmoth is really playing it serious with this one.”

“To the butterfly man’s credit, he really has been throwing out some tough ones.”

“I will not give our worst villain credit for anything except this headache,” Ladybug retorted with annoyance.

“So, what do we do? Mayura is in the building and she is talking with the giant.”

Ladybug felt like the situation couldn’t get worse.

“Not so fast, Feather Freak!”

Ladybug recognized that voice.

“Chloé?”

Chat Noir and Ladybug glanced to see a familiar blonde strutting down the hallway. But their expressions of shock shifted to bewilderment when they noticed what she was wearing.

“So are you and that purple fashion blunder here? Or is it just you? I am guessing it's just you. Your boss doesn’t really like to show his face unless he thinks he is sure to win. No wonder Ladybug always kicks his…” The bee themed heroine confidently quipped.

“Queen Bee. Now that is a surprise. I thought Ladybug was done giving you a miraculous.” The peacock villainess commented. She had no interest in dealing with the bee heroine at this time.

“Well, you would be surprised by a lot of things. So how about we settle this. My fist really misses your face.”

Mayura rolled her eyes.

“Fortunately for you, I don’t have the time to deal with you. Stoneheart, I am sure Masquerade would love for you to take care of this pesky bee.”

“Oh don’t think you can walk away! You and that purple cockroach are the same. Both cowards that can��t even face children.” She jeered as she walked forward.

The stone giant moved forward, allowing Mayura to walk to the door and enter.

“Too scared to face me! Typical. I'll beat your pet rock as a warm up and then your butt will meet my foot!” Queen Bee exclaimed with confidence. “Because I am a real heroine!”

Queen Bee got into a stance and prepared to trade blows with the colossus of rock.

Chat Noir looked to Ladybug.

“Did you give her a miraculous?” He whispered in surprise.

“I don’t have any additional miraculous. I thought she had been captured with the rest of the class.”

“Wait… if it wasn’t you… you don’t think…”

“Either Master Fu is in the building and saw how dire the situation was or Chloé snuck away and had a Queen Bee costume stowed away in her locker.”

The two look at each other and immediately come to the same conclusion.

“We need to save her before she gets crushed!”

______________________________________________________________________

Mayura walked into the classroom.

She managed to keep a straight face, but internally she had a lot going through her mind.

What was once a standard classroom now looked like an elaborate throne room. The amazing curtains, the high ceilings. The steps leading up to an elaborate throne. The portraits of Masquerade really brought together the utter decadence and vanity of the akuma persona. It reminds Mayura of Gabriel’s obsession with Emilie in the worst way possible.

Despite finding the décor off-putting, she had to admit it was impressive how Masquerade had been able to change the room into something completely unrecognizable. A testament to her vanity.

She took a moment to see what akuma servants she still had in the room. The Gamer, Reflekta with around 12 copies, Princess Fragrance, Robostus, Zombizou and Horificator. While the white masks obscured their expressions, it was clear that all of them were watching her. It greatly unnerved her.

She kept these thoughts to herself as the masked akuma that was running the school took notice of her.

“Mayura. I've been expecting you.”

Mayura looked up to see Masquerade sitting on the throne.

“Please, come in.”

She approached confidently. Though in the back of her mind something seemed off.

Masquerade stood up from the throne and walked down the steps, a smile of certainty on her face.

“Masquerade. Your Sentimonster gave me the basics of your plan. Securing the school as your base of operations was a good first step. Your plan of creating a video to lower the spirits of those in Paris was also a nice touch,” Mayura praised.

“But of course! My plan is flawless,” Masquerade boasted. “Not even Ladybug and Chat Noir will be able to stop me.”

“Getting ahead of yourself aren’t you?” Mayura cut her ego trip.

Masquerade’s mood soured as her smile faltered.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You have yet to face the two heroes. Not to mention there's a pesky bee flying around.”

“A bee?” Masquerade was very confused by the comment.

“Yes, Chloé Bourgeois, or Queen Bee, to be precise. Seems that Ladybug and Chat Noir went and got back up."

“It doesn’t matter if they have one additional hero or three. This plan won't fail.”

‘Something isn’t right here. I need to leave now!’ Mayura’s mind screamed.

She wasn’t sure why, but something felt incredibly off.

“Speaking of heroes, your plan never really specified how you will deal with them. Care to elaborate?”

Masquerade’s smile grew more sinister.

“I am glad you asked. After Simularé relayed to me that you were here. I finally figured out the perfect way of dealing with those arrogant heroes,” the masked woman stated with certainty, moving forward.

She now stood only a few feet from the peacock villainess.

“Wait a moment, something is wrong here,” Mayura commented as she tried to focus. She couldn’t ignore the warnings in her head.

“What do you mean?” The mask akuma looked with confusion at the blue villainess.

Mayura looked around. Frantically trying to find something but it was fruitless. This distress caused Masquerade to smile.

“I can't sense it,” Mayura spoke with slight worry.

“Sense what?” Masquerade inquired further.

“Where is your amok? It should be on your person but I can't sense it.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Yes. If you don’t have the amok in your possession then that sentimonster will go out of control!” Mayura explained.

“Can’t you just rip the amok out?”

“If it's nearby and I sense it, yes. But I can’t do that if it’s out of my range.”

“So you’re saying you have no power over me right now.” A devilish grin appeared on Masquerade’s face.

“No, I am saying I don’t have any power over the senti…”

Mayura felt a chill as she realized that the masquerade in front of her was not an akumatized Lila.

“Horrificator, block the door,” the Faux Masquerade commanded.

The pink and purple monster quickly moved to block the door with her large form.

The controlled akuma started circling around her as Simularé undid the illusion and morphed into its true specter form, Simularé.

“You ungrateful little monster. You think your master will be okay with you attacking one of the ones that gave her power?”

“My master doesn’t care about you or Hawkmoth. You are a means to an end. And she gave me special permission to take your miraculous from you.”

“Well if your master isn’t here, then no one is jamming the signal. I can contact Hawkmoth and put this little coup to an end.”

Simularé shifted into Lady Wifi.

“I have access to every power my master does. You are trapped with no options.” The sentimonster mocked.

Mayura looked around as she was circled by the controlled akuma. She needed to get out of there.

She felt a pain rush to her head.

‘F*** not now’ She mentally cursed.

The odds were indeed not in her favor.

______________________________________________________________________________

Stoneheart began charging at the bee themed heroine, and just as Queen Bee was about to move, a yo-yo wrapped around her waist and pulled her away from the monster.

The stone giant had expected his charge to make contact but forced himself to stop when he noticed the bee was gone.

“Sorry tiny, but I’m your playmate now,” called a cat-themed hero.

The mindless akuma didn’t visibly react to the change in foe and simply charged at the cat hero.

Queen Bee found herself near Ladybug.

“Chloé! What are you doing?!”

“Uh… Saving the day? I got the jewelry box that you sent out because you needed my help.”

“Jewelry box… wait a minute that means. You are wearing a miraculous.”

“Yep! Don’t worry LB, I will show you that I am worthy of being Queen Bee. And not to boast, but I totally saved someone. But right now, we gotta go beat that ugly pile of rubble.”

Ladybug looked at Chloé for a moment. With the situation as hectic as it was, Queen Bee has shown some competence when there is real danger. Ladybug knew that right now, all hands that could help would be appreciated, and Queen Bee’s appearance could mean that Fu may be closer than she expected. So maybe there were more reinforcements. So if this was the case. She would trust Fu’s judgement.

“Alright, just be ready to return the bee after all of this is over.”

“Right, right, but just know I will probably change your mind about that after this is over!” the bee exclaimed confidently as she jumped back into the fray.

Ladybug shook her head. Whether she was Queen Bee or Chloé, she was still a handful.

“Are you finished gossiping? Because I could REALLY use a hand!” Chat Noir shouted as he held his staff up to hold back the rock monster’s boulder of a fist.

Queen Bee and Ladybug jumped into view and noticed the situation.

“Don’t worry you stray cat, The Queen Bee will put that rock in his place. Ve…”

Ladybug covered Queen Bee’s mouth before she could.

“Hold it. We might need your power for later.”

“I think it would be useful now!” Chat Noir shouted as he struggled to hold the weight of the giant’s rocky hand.

“Okay if my powers are a no no right now, what is the plan?”

Ladybug looked around. She found her attention drawn to a fire extinguisher, Queen Bee, a rubber band, and a discarded backpack.

“Okay, I have a plan.”

______________________________________________________________________

Gabriel had made a decision.

He hurried out of the lair in his civilian form. He was going to head to the school. Now he would just need to get his chauffeur and go…

Gabriel’s eyes went wide as he saw his son’s bodyguard and chauffeur fall to the floor at the steps of the main entrance, a white mask adorning his face that he was desperately trying to get off.

“What is the meaning of this?” Gabriel asked aloud in shock and anger.

He looked to see the mask akuma he created standing at the door.

“Well, if it isn’t Gabriel Agreste. Fashion mogul, and master manipulator.”

Gabriel’s visible anger faded as he stared at the akuma.

“Lila, is that you?”

“Oh quite astute! An amazing deduction. Was it that observational skill that made you the fashion success you are now?” the akumatized Lila inquired. “Though I go by Masquerade now.”

Gabriel knew very well the girl’s powers. He was the one that gave it to her. She was trying to antagonize him, get him angry. But that would not work.

“Well Masquerade, what brings you to my home at this time?” Gabriel asked calmly. Doing his best to keep his tone and mannerisms calm.

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood, finding more people to join my little army and I notice my charm glowing as I was getting near.”

Gabriel’s eyes went wide as he realized something. The charm bracelet was configured to locate anyone that has ever been akumatized. That included him. His ploy to ward suspicion off of himself was now biting him in the butt. And of course, Lila was likely holding a grudge with how he pushed her with his words about his son and his classmate.

“My bodyguard was akumatized. What of it?”

The silent action figure enthusiast stopped resisting and his body began growing. Gabriel noticed the man was transforming into the gorilla akuma. Gorizilla! And he rushed up the steps as the akuma moved and pounded his chest.

“Gorizilla, go gather up anyone who has been akumatized that you know of. I will handle Mr. Agreste myself.”

The giant akuma nodded at its master and headed off, leaving the agreste mansion with a giant hole that was once the front of the mansion.

“Handle me? And what do you plan to do?”

Masquerade’s necklace began to glow.

“Oh! Well that is very interesting,” Masquerade mused aloud as she learned from the glowing charm.

“What do you mean, interesting?” Gabriel asked. He knew that the charm had the bonus effect of pointing out the emotional weak points of those that had been akumatized. But he had PRETENDED to be angry and wasn’t actually emotional when the akuma took over. Did the charm still impact him the same way it did everyone else?

Masquerade started walking up the steps.

“You blame yourself for your wife’s passing.”

The statement was a blade pointed right at his throat. But Gabriel refused to react. He would not let himself be taken advantage of by his own akuma. He has been on the receiving end one too many times and he would be damned if he let that psychopath have control of him.

Masquerade saw that Gabriel was not reacting to the statement.

“I have never seen a man more miserable and pathetic,” Masquerade said. Her words sounded genuine and cutting.

Gabriel tried to turn around and walk away. But Masquerade jumped high with her superhuman agility and landed right in front of him, continuing her tearing down of his emotional state.

“All of this wealth and yet you are obsessed with what you don’t have. You are so blinded by the grief of losing your wife that everything else in your life may as well not exist. You locked yourself away, desperately trying to find something, anything that would bring her back. But now you are finding that color is starting to return in your life. You feel guilt over hiding the truth from your son, you loathe the attraction that you have been developing for another woman. You hate that you can’t dedicate every second to your lost wife and any speck of joy you feel without her here feels like treason since she is not here with you. You are a man so blind with his obsession that you fail to see the world doesn’t revolve around you. It's disgusting.”

“You know nothing of my life,” Gabriel dismissed.

But Masquerade knew he would say that. She only smiled. The truth was right in front of her. And she was ready to bring it home.

“You are actually terrified of facing her again.”

That shook Gabriel.

“What?”

“You are afraid of seeing her again. Whether it’s a year or 10 years, you feel that even if you could bring her back, she would be here and realize how much of a shell you had become without her. You are afraid that your obsession with her will be the very thing that drives her away once you see her again.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Then why haven’t you brought her back yet? Don’t you love her?”

Gabriel felt like his heart was being repeatedly punched.

“How dare you question my love for my wife!”

“Then why isn’t she here? If you loved her she wouldn’t have been taken from you and Adrien. But you were far too pathetic to do it. You failed her, and you are still failing her. You will never be with her again, and deep down. You know it to be true,” Masquerade answered coldly.

Those words were enough to get him down. That is what finally did him in.

Gabriel fell to his knees.

“No…”

Gabriel had broken. Masquerade knew she had him.

He was emotionally devastated, to the point where couldn’t even react to the mask coming his way.

____________________________________________________________

Well now things are now hitting their highest points of drama!

Will Ladybug and other heroes be able to stand up to Masquerade?

Will Mayura fall to Simularé's double cross?

Will I EVER update in time?

Tell me your thoughts on the chapter. Your support keeps it alive

#ml #ml fic #ml fanfic #soulmate survey #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfiction #drama #ladynoir #lukagami

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Text

Outside the Lines

for @archivalpride month! the prompt was ‘sharing clothes’ so I decided to add on a bit to my More than Enough archives polycule fic. you don’t need to read it beforehand, though. 2.2k words, cw in the tags.

Jon likes Sasha’s clothes. Particularly, her cardigans.

They’re warm, oversized things in pastel colors, chunky cable knits and ancient pullovers, smelling faintly of jasmine and sandalwood. There’s always one draped over the back of her chair at work, at home. Sometimes a pile of them.

“Just in case,” she said knowingly, when Jon mentioned the teetering pile on the back of her office chair.

“Of what, a blizzard?” he replied archly, to which she had no response.

But Jon runs cold, so it makes sense that he’d like them. And eye them. And eventually, borrow them.

“You look good in pink,” she said casually, walking by him cozily wrapped up, surrounded by books for his latest case. “You should wear it more often.” Jon just grumbled in response.

It now sits on the back of his chair.

Point is, they’re not strangers to sharing clothes. Once they move in together, the lines blur even more. Jon’s scarves become hers, her jackets become his. It’s nice when the someone’s scent begins to remind you of home. Embarrassingly, he’s come to think of it like a hug when she’s not around. Perhaps she feels the same way, but Jon’s not going to bring it up. He’s not that maudlin.

“You need to stop me from online shopping,” she groans one day, dropping a pile of clothing into his lap that must have been from the newly-arrived and altogether giant box he found on the steps of their flat. Jon had raised an eyebrow as she guiltily hauled it to her room and got to work. “I swear, I don’t remember ordering half of this.”

“Far be it from me to get between a James and her phone,” he replies, picking through the pile of utterly un-Sasha-like clothing. It’s all floaty tops and tiny skirts, nothing like what she usually gravitates toward. She certainly has more...adventurous tastes, when she’s intoxicated.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you at all,” Jon retorts, picking up the most offensive piece from the pile with his thumb and pointer finger: a muted brown, and yet somehow sparkly miniskirt. He raises a judgmental eyebrow. “Really?”

“I was not in my right state of mind, you know that.” She ran a hand over her face, refusing to look him in the eye. “Anyway, see if there’s anything in there you like. Otherwise, it’s all going back.”

Jon very much doubts there’s much in here for him - not a chunky knit in sight. The tops aren’t too bad, but a bit too sheer for his liking, and if he’s going to layer, he’d rather be comfortable than fashionable. He pushes the pile off his lap when something catches his eye. Buried beneath two very loud shirts is something black, with bits of lace. He pulls it out to find a simple black dress, high-necked with pearl buttons and slightly puffed sleeves. It’s modest, but covered in a delicate lace pattern. His grip tightens incrementally. “You don’t like this?”

Sasha peeks her head around the corner. “S’bit short on me. You should try it on, though. It’s cute.”

Jon flushes. It’s something he might’ve worn in uni, when he and Georgie made a night of it and Jon had just enough liquid courage. Now, though, it doesn’t fit with his professional persona and strict uniform of blazers, vests, and button ups. He needed to be taken seriously, and he didn’t feel he could do that if he was...experimenting, as his grandmother would phrase it. His hair he still wears long, the only vestige of that life he kept. “Oh,” he responds automatically, “I couldn’t.”

Sasha blinks. “I think you’d look really nice. Put your hair up, maybe add some earrings.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not.” She comes behind his perch on the sofa, gathering his hair up in her hand and pulling it from his face. “Leave a few pieces out, y’know, artfully messy.” She takes the dress and pulls it up against his body. “What do you think?”

“Um, maybe,” he barely manages to whisper. It feels nice, right. He can see it in his mind’s eye - it looks very him. Not feminine or masculine, just pretty. Just Jon. “I’ll think about it.”

He thinks about it. The dress hangs in the back of his closet, untouched and passed over many a morning. He tried it on and Sasha had been right- of course she was, she’s good at that sort of thing when not inebriated. Maybe one day he’d wear it out - not to work, but to drinks or something.

Maybe.

It’s not until months down the line that he tugs it out, on one of those days where he feels like his body doesn’t make sense and names sound wrong in his ears. Drinks with Tim, the newest recruit to their department. Hard won drinks, if Jon might add; Tim was just starting to open up to them. He tugs the dress over his head and digs through a plate on his dresser for the long silver earrings Sasha gave him last Christmas. He studiously avoids the mirror on his way out the door, throwing his bag over his shoulder and standing in the doorway, as if waiting for Sasha’s reaction.

This was a bad idea, he thinks as his palms start to sweat. You look ridiculous, you shouldn’t have- his thoughts are interrupted by a gentle hand tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. Sasha smiles at him.

“Oh, you’re perfect.”

Tim thinks so too.

----------

“Oh man, I’ve got to get rid of that.”

Tim motions to the blazer in Sasha’s hand. “Hasn’t fit me since uni. Y’know, when I got these guns.” Sasha rolls her eyes as he makes an exaggerated motion with his arms. They’ve been cleaning out Tim’s apartment for the past few hours, she and Tim in the bedroom while Jon sorted through his books in the living room. She suspects he’s doing more reading than sorting.

“Why’d you keep it, then?” She holds the hanger up, smoothing the fabric out with her hand. It’s heavy, quality fabric. A shame to get rid of it.

“Dunno, just one of those things,” he shrugs, throwing another pair of joggers onto the bed. “It was expensive, but I only ever wore it to interviews for internships and the like. You can toss it in the donate pile.”

She hums idly, making no motion to get rid of it. She’s rather fond of blazers, has quite a few in her collection. They’re nice when she wants to be a bit more dressy and professional. A woman’s outfit can occasionally be her armor, particularly in academia, and nothing says ‘take me seriously’ like a nicely fitted jacket and skirt. Never mind how it makes her feel. But this is very much a men’s blazer, barely a nip at the waist and with nothing to outline the curve of her body. And yet.

She shoves it in her bag. If she doesn’t like it, she’ll throw it out.

_______

When Jon and Tim are tucked in bed, she tries it on.

She doesn’t know why she’s being so secretive about this. It’s not like Jon and Tim will care, it’s just clothes. Lord knows she’s encouraged Jon to wear whatever he wants, and there’s no surefire way to get Tim blushing like wearing one of his pullovers. But there’s something that feels a bit transgressive about it. She was generally drawn to more feminine looks, growing up as a tall girl there’s an inherent (perhaps taught) idea that making herself look smaller and delicate would make her more appealing. Appealing for what? She always wanted to ask. But she knows the answer now. It’s taken near a decade to get the slouch out of her posture and to get comfortable wearing heels.

It seems silly to feel so cowed by a blazer. She’s thirty years old, unmarried and living with two partners. She stopped playing by the rules a long time ago. Her hands shouldn’t be shaking. For Christ’s sake, just put it on.

She slips her arms into the sleeves, pausing to inhale the leftover scent of Tim, his laundry detergent and the after shave he occasionally wears. Her entire body warms, like stepping into a bath. She slips the rest of it on, pausing to adjust the shirt underneath. When she looks in the mirror, she can’t help the grin that fills her face. She looks good. Her broad shoulders fit the line of the jacket perfectly, her curves hidden and barely even suggested by the cut. It is decidedly not feminine.

She likes it.

It takes her twenty minutes to drag herself from the bathroom and back into bed. She lies awake through Tim’s light snores and Jon’s murmuring, filled with a strange, nervous excitement. It’s just a blazer, she thinks to herself somewhat giddily. It’s just clothes. But when she throws it on that Monday morning and steps into the kitchen, she starts to think it might be more than that. She walks a little taller, feels a bit more at home in her skin. Tim choking on his orange juice when he sees her is just an added bonus.

“Glad you kept it,” he stutters out, once he manages to stop gaping.

She’s glad too.

______

Martin’s sitting on Jon’s bed, watching as he runs a brush through his hair.

Jon’s hair is lovely, long and shiny. His own he keeps rather short, though the curls are getting a bit unruly these days. When he was a child, his mother insisted he keep it long, just like she insisted on a great many other things. But he shed all of that, got as far away from it as possible. And yet, eyeing the silvery tray on Jon’s dresser, he has to admit he’s curious.

It’s full of delicate, pretty accessories- hair clips and necklaces and earrings. Jon’s like a magpie, collecting shiny things; though this collection is mostly gifts from the three of them. It’s a little dance they like to do- Jon sees something in a store, stares a little too long, insists he doesn’t need it, and eventually it ends up in their flat.

Their flat. He’s still getting used to it. He’s never felt at home anywhere, but he’s starting to think he has one now. Listening to Jon hum as he cooks, Tim reading aloud from his recent article deep-dive, Sasha butting in with a comment - these are all good things. The background noise to his days that used to be filled with silence.

And he’s never been around people so at home with themselves. Martin is so used to putting an effort into how he presents himself in the world, he’s never enjoyed being misconstrued. A strange, delicate balance of pride in who he is at war with a desperate need to be understood and accepted. Palatable. Easier to put yourself in a box with clear labels than to deal with the confusion and the questions. Any passing thought or fleeting impulse that goes outside the lines is dismissed.

But nothing about his situation now is easily labeled, to be honest. It’s hard enough explaining his relationship status to others, though Sasha has a little spiel ready to rattle off at a moment’s notice. They’re all so comfortable with each other, with themselves. It makes him both a bit braver and a bit more afraid.

While Jon scurries off to flick through his closet, Martin gets up, walking over to the collection and picking up the small moth broach he’d gotten him on one of their first dates, before Tim started to come along. The memory brings a smile to his face.

“Oh, it’s lovely, Martin.” Jon had immediately pinned it to his jacket, before reaching down to grab a bag at his feet. “And ah, actually- I got something for you too?”

A little Highland cow plushie. So he had been listening to his rant on Scotland the other day. It still sits in place of pride on his desk.

“Do you want to try one?” Martin jumps at the sound of Jon’s voice, dropping the pin unceremoniously back into the pile as if he’d been burnt. He turns around, prepared to voice a thousand excuses, a knee-jerk reaction.

“No, it’s-”

But Jon’s already sorting through the pile with clever fingers, hand lingering over a thin barrette with a tiny, gold flower. Pretty, simple. Martin’s hand itches to reach out but he draws it into a tight fist. Admiring is one thing, but actually wearing it-

“C’mere.” He thinks he should refuse but instead he leans down, lets Jon’s fingers wind their way through his hair and feels a settled weight against his head.

“There.” Jon smiles. “That’ll do quite nicely.”

He looks in the mirror. Oh.

It’s barely even noticeable, just a small clip bringing the longest of his curls behind his ear. But Jon’s right. It looks nice. It goes with his hair and it doesn’t feel feminine or wrong, just a comfortable weight against his head reminding him he belongs, he’s loved. And that Martin’s still himself, even if he steps outside of the box every now and then.

“You don’t have to keep it in if you-”

“No. I like it.” He straightens his spine, tilts his head. Smiles. Jon smiles back.

Yeah. He likes it.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31803076

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space-dragon-ace · 2 years

Note

ACE ACE ACE I’ve had this idea for a fic for a few days but the writers block is hitting real hard right now so I’m hoping I could put in a request!! <33

Basically, Yoimiya x reader where they’re childhood friends. Reader has this massive crush on Yoimiya but is really unsure if they should tell her because they don’t want to destroy the friendship. But during a festival the reader gets the guts/accidentally blurts their attraction. A cute/fluffy ending would be really cool if you could do that <33

TYSM IF YOU DO THIS UR AWESOME <33 (ur always awesome so that won’t change if you decide not to do this req <333)

Fireworks

Pairing: Yoimiya x Reader Word count: 1776 Additional info: Insecure Reader; Reader is nicknamed "Sparks", Yoimiya is nicknamed "Goldfish" Tagging @irethepotato

You happily listened to Yoimiya as she told another one of her anecdotes, even when she barely looked at you. After all, she needed to concentrate, she was creating a new set of fireworks. A festival would be held tomorrow, and she wanted her newest idea to be used at the grand finale. It was cute, really, with how much passion and joy she could dive into creating fireworks. Everyone could see how much she loved this job, and how much fulfillment it brought her. It was her purpose in this life, creating fireworks to bring joy to others. Like a baker made bread and a fisherman caught fish, Yoimiya illuminated the sky. Sometimes you envied her for this. She had found her purpose in life so easily, had known what it would be since she was a little girl. You on the other hand, still lacked your purpose. Every day, you set out to find it, and every night, you went to bed without having found it. While helping around town felt nice and made you feel less useless, it didn't help you on you quest. Like a leaf in the wind, you were blown around. Aimless, and without a goal in sight. How you wished to start again, hoping that then, you'd have a better idea of what your purpose was.

„Hey [Y/N], you okay?“, Yoimiya asked, her voice playful yet concerned. You smiled and nodded. „Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired, didn't got a lot of sleep last night“, you answered, and it was only half a lie. While your tiredness was not the reason you were so out of the present, it was true that you hadn't slept well. Past memories had clouded your brain and kept sleep away from you, memories of your friendship with Yoimiya. How you first stumbled into her family's shop, back when you were still a little child. Her father had noticed the look full of wonder on your face, and offered to show you a small firework. Yoimiya had joined, always eager and happy to see her father's work. It was she who offered you to come over again, if you ever wanted to see the sky sparkle like this again. And coming back, you did, almost every day. Very soon, you and Yoimiya had become inseparable, the best of friends. Playing together every day, having sleepovers and watching every firework together, all of it defined your friendship. Nothing felt as good alone as when the other was there. Yet all good things had to come to an end, and your friendship was no exception. For in your late teens, you had realized your feelings had changed, into those of love and romance.

But you couldn't confess, not wanting what you already had. The friendship was already so much Yoimiya was giving you, you didn't want to be greedy. Yet at the same time, playing pretend was horrible and wrecked you with guilt. Every little word and action could be the last if you were not careful. Your friendship was a house of cards, one blow from caving in. It wasn't fun to lie to Yoimiya, but you needed to do it. Of course she'd still be your friend, even if she knew about your feelings. She wouldn't abandon you, she was way to kind to just turn her back on you. But everything would be different. So you kept lying and pretending, even when it suffocated you. You buried your feelings deep inside you, where no one could hear them scream. It was for the best, you kept telling yourself. Maybe if you did it often enough, you'd believe those words someday. „[Y/N]?“ Yoimiya knelt in front of you, her eyes full of worry. „Are you really okay?“ She always worried so much about you, always making you feel like you were her world. And yet you lied to her every day, betrayed her trust with almost every word. What scum you were.

„I...“, you began, biting your lip and averting your gaze. Looking in Yoimiya's eyes filled you with so much self-hatred and disgust at yourself. „I just...I don't know. Everyone in Inazuma has a purpose. And they knew what it was since forever. Like you knew since you were a little girl that you'd make fireworks. But I … I don't. I have no purpose and no idea what I want to do. I feel so useless, sometimes. Like I'm a waste of everyone's time and space. And when I see you, all happy about a new idea for a firework, I'm sometimes filled with envy. And that's not fair to you.“ It was still not the whole truth, but way more honest than you were before. In all the years Yoimiya had been your friend, you had never once told her about those insecurities. You didn't want to bother her with them, she had enough to do already. And they were your problems, so it should be you who was dealing with them, nobody else. After all, how would you ever be able to find your purpose in life if you couldn't even handle yourself?

Warm arms were wrapped around you, and Yoimiya pulled you close in a hug. „Oh [Y/N], thank you for telling me“, she whispered, „I won't lie, I don't really know what to say now. I don't want to sound like I'm lecturing you, and I also don't want to say hollow or overused words. But you are my best friend, and you're never a waste of time or space in my eyes. You're the only person I'd drop everything for, even my fireworks. Because you are my [Y/N], my Sparks, and no one can ever replace you. And I can't see the future, but I know we're gonna find your purpose in life!“ Yoimiya broke the hug, linking her pinky with yours. With a grin, she winked at you. „Pinky promise, we'll find what your passion and purpose are. And until then, your purpose could be being my closest friend. How does that sound?“ You smiled softly, her words calming you down like nothing else. Even though it send a sting to your heart when she called you her friend, you were oddly happy. „It sounds good, Goldfish“, you answered. Maybe for a little while, being Yoimiya's friend would be a nice purpose.

---

The night had settled over Inazuma, lanterns illuminating the streets as the festival was still going. Kids ran around, sweets in their hands or sitting still as they tried various games. The adults walked more calmly, couples linked their arms together and watched the sky. Soon, Yoimiya's assistants would light up the fireworks she created, and they'd brighten up the dark sky. You had already chosen a spot, sitting under a sakura tree. Like the fireworks, the blossoms had a short life and fleeting beauty. Maybe it was that what had made you chose this spot all those years ago, and the knowledge of both turned it in your usual watching spot. „Sparks!“, Yoimiya called you, the nickname rolling of her tongue like a sweet melody. „Goldfish“, you greeted her, causing her to chuckle. Neither of you could remember where those nicknames had come from, but they had stuck right away. Yoimiya had liked it so much, she had integrated it into her aesthetic. „Our usual spot“, she said as she sat down next to you, „I really like this one. You chose it good, even as a child you had an excellent sense for this.“ You smiled, looking at the sky again. Her arrival foretold the start of the firework, and like clockwork, the sky turned bright red a few moments later.

„It's so pretty“, you mumbled, seeing the smile spread on Yoimiya's face from the corner of your eye. „Thank you. I gave my everything, like always“, she whispered. You stared at her, her profile illuminated by the lanterns, the moon and the firework. She looked so happy, until she noticed your staring. Even when she turned to face you, you couldn't look away. Yoimiya tilted her head, her brows lightly furrowed. „[Y/N]? Everything alright?“, she asked. When you didn't answer, she went back in her head. What could have caused this reaction from you? Remembering your conversation from yesterday, Yoimiya felt like a lightning bolt had struck her. Of course, this must have sparked some envy again, right? Because she once again fulfilled her purpose with such delight, while you were still searching yours. Great, just great! She hadn't wanted to make you feel bad! Or … Was she overreacting? Was it maybe something completely different? Oh well, only one way to find out.

Gently, Yoimiya took your hand, squeezing it. „You know you can tell me everything, right?“, she asked, smiling softly. And damn everything, this was a smile you couldn't lie to. You were utterly sick of lying, and better tell it now, in the fleeting moment, than keep it inside until it would burst out. With a sigh, you squeezed her hand back. „I've been keeping something from you. Something that, once I tell you, will change everything between us. And I was scared of that change, so I didn't tell you. I'm sorry for m cowardice.“ Yoimiya wanted to protest, wanted to say that you were no coward and that nothing would change. But she couldn't. With all your courage, you had placed a hand on her cheek and leaned forward, placing a loving and tender kiss on her lips. Yoimiya's eyes widened, it took her until you pulled away to realize what just happened. „I love you. I loved you for so long already“, you confessed. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, before bursting into giggles. You blinked, having expected everything but this. In the next second, you yelped and nearly fell to the ground. Yoimiya had thrown her arms around you and kissed you with a smile. „I love you too!“, she said, „For months! And I didn't want to say anything to not ruin our friendship!“

Now it was your turn to open and close your mouth like a fish on land. It caused Yoimiya to start laughing, infecting you with it. Both of you hugged tightly, laughing and giggling about the situation. It was funny and ironic, both of you in love with each other, yet too scared to say anything. If only you had known before, you probably would have been a couple for months already! Yet better late than never. And now that you had one another, you wouldn't let go so easily.

#genshin x male reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x gn reader #yoimiya x reader

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gureishi · 3 years

Note

Smutty Seven + 18 with a female reader?? Hehe

Hehe indeed. Thank you for the request, darling anon! There are a million fics about this sort of scenario, but I wanted to write one so bad, so now there are a million and one ;)

breathe, darling, breathe in deep

Saeyoung X Reader, E, Words: 2322

cw: outdoor sex, light gagging (hand over mouth)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

It is the way he rolls up his sleeves that does you in.

The room is lit by amber-colored lamps and hundreds of real, flickering candles—a touch of which you are particularly proud. From across the vast, glittering space, you watch him. He is laughing, and when he laughs, his face is lit by a sort of otherworldly glow that makes your breath hitch. He is talking to a small group of guests, commanding their attention with remarkable ease: when he wants to, he can shine so bright he’s almost blinding.

And, even as he talks energetically, he is rolling up the sleeves of his black button-down shirt (so casually, as if he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it). His fingers are nimble and clever and the candlelight strikes the muscles in his forearms. Your stomach does a flip.

“…a lovely idea, dear,” says a voice—closer and louder than the sound of his laughter—and you drag your mind (kicking and screaming) back to the older woman beside you.

“Oh,” you murmur, demurely as you can manage—not even sure which element of this particularly elaborate party you are being praised for. “Thank you.”

The woman beside you smiles kindly, gesturing at the broad wooden doors, cast open so as to extend the party from the banquet hall into the garden. Ah: and it is this that she is complimenting; these doors are normally closed, but you asked for them to be left open so the room would smell of fresh night air and gardenias.

It is subtle—but the scent of flowers on the air makes guests cheerful, and cheerful guests make larger donations. It took some trial and error, in the beginning—but nowadays, you can plan a successful charity party practically in your sleep.

She asks you about the flower varieties, and you do your best to explain (thanking your lucky stars that you’ve got a brother-in-law who knows a thing or two—or more—about flowers). As you speak, you look out at the garden—and can’t help sneaking another glance toward the opposite corner of the hall.

Saeyoung is running a hand through his hair—which is parted neatly tonight, the way he’ll only do it when you ask nicely. As if he feels your eyes on him, he tilts his head—the tiniest gesture. He sees you.

He winks.

A shiver runs up your spine. His arm muscles practically shimmer in the candlelight, and his clever fingers mess up his styled hair just enough that you’ll notice. He knows, you think, exactly what he is doing.

Your toes tingle.

Two can play at that game.

Knowing that he’s watching now (wondering how you’d doubted even for a second that his eyes—in spite of all pretense—were on you to begin with), you give the woman beside you a dazzling smile.

“Would you like to see the garden?” you ask her. She smiles right back, and you toss your hair triumphantly. She tells you that she would be delighted.

So you lead the way, straight through the middle of the ballroom. Your dress is silky smooth, and all it takes is a little wiggle for one sleeve to fall artfully over your shoulder. You don’t look his way as you pass—but you feel his eyes on you: thoughtful; curious; captivated.

You linger in the doorway, letting the moonlight do the work for you: highlighting your silhouette, casting your body in a sort of soft shimmer. Another guests joins you, and you dive into an account of the history of this piece of land—which has been related to you by the manager of the venue at least once a week for the past three months. The facts have become ingrained in your mind—so you talk lightly, only half-listening to yourself.

Meanwhile, you reach back to gather your hair up in your hands. The garden air isn’t hot, but it is warm enough that no one so much as looks twice as you lift your hair, exposing the back of your neck.

No one but Saeyoung, of course—whose gaze you can feel viscerally now, searing your skin. Ah, you think—now it is hot. You pull your hair forward, over your shoulder; one of the women is laughing at something the other has said and, not even having heard the joke, you join in—hoping your voice sounds natural even as your toes curl in your shoes.

You can’t help another peek. Oh: and he is transfixed.

A few others have joined the group of people in the far corner, but he isn’t speaking anymore. You have his full attention, and his eyes are fiery; you give him a tiny smile, as if to say I dare you.

“…would like to see that,” one of the women is saying. Your fingertips dance over the slit in your long dress. With a gesture that you hope is subtle, you flick your skirt aside—and the thin fabric flutters around you, exposing your thigh to the night air.

Your heart is racing.

You can never hear his footsteps, even after all this time. He walks like a cat, light and silent—but you sense that he is coming for you. You grin in spite of yourself; the women, oblivious, ask if you would like to explore the garden with them.

“Go ahead,” you murmur. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

With polite smiles, they are off. There is a gentle breeze: it dances in your hair and plays over the bare skin of your leg, your shoulder, your neck.

You count your heartbeats: one, two, three—

And then there is whisper, low and rough, in your ear.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he growls. His hand lands on your hip, and you can’t repress a little shiver. Your skin sizzles where he has touched it.

“You started it,” you whisper, still looking out at the garden. He shifts closer, and you can feel his warmth as his body presses up against yours. He is tense, you think—wound tight like a spring.

“I rolled up my sleeves,” he hisses. “You…you…”

“I what, sweetheart?” You turn, then, and the look on his face catches you off guard. His eyes are dark, his pupils huge—and he looks absolutely ravished, though you haven’t so much as touched him yet.

“Since when?” you ask, your face flushing. He shifts uncomfortably and it takes all the willpower you have to keep your eyes on his face rather than checking if he’s—if he’s already—

“That dress,” he mutters, his eyes boring into yours, the heat from his body making you squirm. “In the candlelight, and—”

You grin. You knew the candles were a good idea.

“Does this mean I win?” you purr, giving your hips the tiniest little shimmy. He shakes his head as if he can’t get his genius mind to think straight.

“You always win, babe,” he murmurs. His other hand drifts up to your waist—and you are conscious, all of a sudden, that you are standing in the doorway, in full view of both the candlelit banquet hall and the moonlit garden.

You cast a glance to the side, trying to discern just how much attention you are attracting. He seems like he’s lost his sense of place altogether.

“So do I get a prize?” you whisper.

“Oh god,” he groans, his voice shaking as he tries to keep it low. You bite your lip.

“Breathe, baby,” you say. You run a hand up his arm and he takes a quiet, shuddering breath, shifting his weight back and forth like it’s taking all his restraint just to stay still. “You’re in luck.”

“And why’s that?” His voice is so rough; electric heat pools in the pit of your stomach.

“Cause you married a party planner,” you tell him. “And the thing about party planners is we pay attention.” Before he can respond, you grab his hand, pulling him through the doorway into the fragrant garden air. He follows unsteadily; you lead him down the stone-lined path, carefully sidestepping the group of guests clustered around the rose bushes.

“Pay attention to what?” he asks weakly. Once you are past the little group on onlookers, you pick up the pace; he matches you easily.

“The history of the venue,” you say, laughing. “The ground plan. Nooks and crannies.”

You turn abruptly onto another, smaller path and he takes a shuddering breath.

“No way,” he says slowly. It is dark here, and there is not a soul in sight; you glance at him—there is a wicked grin spreading across his dizzy face.

“You trust me?” you ask. He holds your hand so tight.

“With your own life,” he murmurs, “which is infinitely more important than mine.”

You reach the end of the path and kick off your heels. He follows wordlessly as you dart through the grass, through a thicket of trees, and—at last—behind a small, rundown shed.

“Here?” he asks. But there is raw need in his voice, and his eyes shine like golden stars in the darkness.

“You want me?” you ask him. You flip your hair over your shoulder and cock your hip and he groans.

“Do I—?”

And then he is on you, his hands gripping your hips, his lips crashing feverishly into yours. He is walking you back, back—you feel the wooden shed against your bare shoulders and throw your arms around his neck. He lifts you, his hip rocking almost frantically, and you wrap your legs around his waist (infinitely grateful that you chose the dress with the slit in the skirt after all).

You slide a hand between your bodies and undo the top button of his pants. His erection strains, already, against the soft fabric and he hisses as you graze it with your fingertips.

And then his hand is on your thigh, creeping up your skirt—and your head falls back as his clever fingers find your underwear. You are so hot, already, so needy, so desperate for him—and when you feel his finger move against you, you moan into the night air.

“Quiet, princess,” he purrs, his fingertip fluttering. Your vision blurs.

“Make me,” you say.

He laughs darkly and presses you harder into the wall of the shed. With your arms and legs tight around him, he lets go of you entirely and—one hand still fluttering against your underwear—claps the other forcefully over your mouth.

“How’s that?” he whispers. His low voice swims with lust, and your thighs shake as you squeeze them tighter around his hips. You nod furiously.

Leaning back against the shed, you take one trembling hand from his waist and unzip his pants, tugging at his underwear. But you are pressed against him so tightly and the angle is wrong and you can’t quite—

“Let me help you with that,” he murmurs. He takes his hand from your mouth to pull his underwear down—and, with a sort of wild longing, you run your fingers along his length. He bites back a low moan, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Now,” you hiss. “Right now.”

You are so very close to the edge of freefall and the sight of his desperate face pushes you ever nearer. He adjusts, shifts in your arms—and his breath is ragged, and his face is full of wonder—

He thrusts into you, and you come apart entirely.

His hips rock into yours and your your body shakes around him. You float on the flower-scented air, your lungs full and your body weak and your muscles vibrating as you let yourself be carried away. He finds a rhythm and you melt into it with him, your eyes shut, your hips shivering.

He rocks you back into the shed—hard—and you bury your fingers in his hair and succumb to the sensations; he shudders, so you lean forward to graze his earlobe with your teeth.

“That’s—” he hisses, struggling to focus on you, “—not playing fair.”

You take his cartilage into your mouth and bite down and he loses his rhythm, his thrusts becoming erratic—his hands bruising your hips, his breath harsh and uneven.

“I want you to,” you whisper, and he lifts one hand to your jaw; you look into his burning eyes and he dissolves.

Your hands tug at his hair and you hold him tight; for a moment, he stops breathing entirely.

He shivers—gasps for air—falls still.

“You—” you pant. “We—”

He kisses your jaw and lowers you ever-so-gently to the ground; you wobble where you stand and he wraps an arm around your waist.

“The party,” you whisper.

For a moment, he is quiet.

Then he laughs—oh, and his laugh is beautiful, clear and bright as the stars, and you laugh with him: leaning into his shoulder, tears in your eyes.

“Do you think,” you gasp through your fit of giggles, “everyone knows?”

He grins lazily down at you.

“The guests? No,” he says, with confidence. “They wouldn’t notice if a rocket ship landed in their midst as long as the champagne is still being passed around. But our friends—”

“If they know us at all,” you say. “They shouldn’t be surprised.”

His eyes sparkle.

“Nothing wrong with an evening stroll in the garden with my beloved wife,” he says, throwing you a roguish wink. You lean into him.

“Never change,” you say. His expression softens and he presses his lips to your shoulder.

“I am who I am,” he tells you firmly. You tilt your face upward to catch his lips in a fleeting kiss that tastes like nighttime.

“And who’s that?” you ask.

Saeyoung smiles.

“Yours,” he whispers, “of course.”

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

@currentlyprocrastinating @thesirenwashere @ultrasupernini @cro0kedme @otomefoxystar @dawn-skies06 @nad-zeta @hunterelys @pamakali @strwbryflvr @dis-gorl @mammonprotectionsquad @firelordtsuki @rebeckathefloof @stehkotori @what-imfabulous-acceptit @saphyhowl @ryuu-no-aneki @pinkdiamondsrose @wayward-bumblebee @otomaticallyobsessed @latte-delf @quirky-and-kind @starry-ash-606 @alicemc86 @taceticbitch @luxielle @agentmc606

#mystic messenger #saeyoung choi #707 #saeyoung x reader #707 x reader #gureishi writes requests #anon #after it all #spicy spaceship

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fortheloveofwonderland · 3 years

Text

Ask the Stars [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]

Find my masterlist here. Requests are Open.

Requested: Yes l No

A/N: I’ve had this idea floating around for a while and finally decided to write it and it flowed liked nobodies business! I LOVED writing this so I hope you enjoy reading it. Special thanks to the angel @dreatine who gave me the title for this fic and showing me the beautiful song the title is from (lyrics for which can be found throughout). Set pre-BAU.

CW: swearing, drinking, mutual pining, friends to lovers, age gap between consenting adults, virgin! Spencer, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, groping. I think that’s everything!

Plot: growing up together, best friends Spencer and the reader have always been secretly in love with one another. But a night together under the stars might be too little too late and with Spencer moving to DC and you to Idaho, that one night may be all you ever get.

WC: 12.2K

—————————————————————

Ask the stars up in the sky,

Ask the stars they’ll tell you why.

Stars know ev’ry little thing you do,

There’s a little star that’s watching you.

Ask the stars when you’re with me,

Ask the stars then watch and see.

Las Vegas, Nevada - 2003

Spencer didn’t think he would have made it through the last ten years of his life and been where he was now if it hadn't been for the family next door.

He was just twelve years old when they’d moved in, struggling to cope with high school bullies and his mom's schizophrenia all on his own.

They would help out with his mom in any way they could, they had him round for dinner when it was too tough for him to go home and they took him along on their annual camping trips every year.

They had been there for him when he’d had to have his mom committed when he was eighteen. They were kind, friendly people. They treated Spencer like their own son.

He liked to pretend when he was with them that they were his family. He liked to play pretend, that he had a loving father and a mom who wasn’t sick.

He lived in a fantasy world whenever he was with them.

But Spencer’s favourite part about the family next door by far, was their daughter, Y/N.

You were four years Spencer’s junior, just an adorable eight year old when you’d moved in next door to the young genius and his mother. The two of you had grown up together and somewhere along the way attraction and feelings developed.

Of course neither one of you had ever said as much. You were best friends, you didn’t want to risk destroying that by confessing your feelings for him.

And besides, at the end of the summer the two of you were going your separate ways; you were off to college in Idaho and Spencer was moving to DC for his illustrious new job at the FBI.

This was the last chance the two of you had to spend time together before everything inevitably changed. So maybe going on a camping trip with your parents at eighteen was a little lame. But there was one reason and one reason alone you were going on the trip.

Spencer Reid.

***

Just as you were lugging the last of your bags out of the front door, you heard the front gate creak open.

Your eyes shot up and landed instantly on his as he slipped through the gate.

You immediately dropped the bag on the floor and were dashing down the front steps and down the path.

“Spence!” You squealed, running at him at speed.

He caught you in his arms and the two of you almost went tumbling back to the concrete but he managed to steady you both.

“Whoa Y/N,” he laughed, wrapping you tightly in his arms. “I missed you too.”

You clung to your best friend, breathing in his scent. He’d only been gone two months finishing up his third PhD, but it felt like forever.

The last few years Spencer’s studies had taken him away from Vegas much more than you would have both liked. He’d missed the last two family camping trips and they had been so dull without him.

You were so happy to have him back for one last trip.

“It’s so good to see you.” You smiled, pulling back from the hug to get a proper look at him. Of course over the years you’d memorised every sculpted curve of his face, those sharp cheekbones, deep set eyes and sinfully plump lips but you would never tire of looking at him.

“Y/N, Spencer, it’s time to go!” Your mom hollered from the street, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Give me a hand with my bag?”

“Of course.” He smiled, following up the path to the house.

You felt lighter when Spencer was around, like all of your worries and fears just melted away.

You had no idea how you would cope with him in DC while you were in Idaho. But that was a problem for another day.

For now you were just revelling in Spencer’s presence.

***

Admittedly camping with your parents was never a terrible experience. Your dad was the outdoorsy type, your mom was not. So they compromised.

Yes you were in the woods but your mom would not allow sleeping in rustic tents. Every year she booked up the most glamorous of tents for your stays. Wood flooring, real beds, even nightstands and lamps.

So technically you were sleeping in a tent, but it was just as comfortable, if not more so than your bedroom at home. The site was equipped with showers and real toilets. It wasn’t really like camping at all.

“Oh Spencer sweetie,” your mom called to him as you were unpacking the car several hours of driving later.

“Yes?” He looked up at her with a smile.

“Did Y/N tell you, we weren’t able to book three pods this year, I must have called late. I hope it’s ok for the two of you to share?”

Wow. Your mom was a better liar than you pegged her to be.

Even your dad seemed to fall for it.

When she’d told you a few days ago, you’d seen right through it.

You knew your mom had known for a long time of your crush on your genius neighbour. She’d probably known before even you did.

So you didn’t question it when she’d told you she’d only been able to book two camping pods, but you were sure your blush gave away exactly what you thought about it.

“Uhm yeah I guess that’s fine.” He shrugged and was that a blush you saw spreading to his cheeks? “I’ve got my sleeping bag, I can just sleep on the floor.”

Not if I have anything to do with it, you thought but his response seemed to appease your father.

Once Spencer went back to emptying the bags from the car your mom gave you a look and a small smirk.

You tried not to blush. Your mom had always been pretty cool for a mom and you had never been more grateful for that until right now.

You finished unpacking the car and took your stuff to your allocated tent to change before heading down to the lake.

Spencer took some clothes to the toilets to change and you spent longer than was necessary picking out the perfect bathing suit.

The last time Spencer had seen you in a bathing suit was two years ago and boy had your body changed in two years. You couldn’t wait to show it off to him.

You just hoped he liked what he saw.

***

Thankfully Spencer had already dived into the water before you took off your summer dress and unsheathed the glorious body you were hiding underneath the fabric.

The water made for a great way to hide the erection that almost immediately grew when he saw you in that bathing suit.

He tried not to look at you, mostly because your parents were there and he was sure they wouldn’t be happy with him gawking over their daughter.

But he was in essence, a cold blooded male. He’d had a crush on you for about as long as he could remember, you’d grown up together, surely it was only inevitable?

But you were his best friend. You were the only real friend he’d ever had. And he didn’t want to ruin that by sexualising you. But god that would be so much easier to do if you weren’t so damn hot.

When had you stopped being the adorable girl next door who used to play with her pony toys in the front yard? When did you become this drop dead gorgeous woman standing before him in a scantily clad bathing suit?

You had changed since the last time he’d seen you in so little clothes. You’d developed curves in what Spencer thought was all the right places.

You looked up and your eyes met his and you gave him a bright smile that made him feel a little weak. You walked to the edge of the lake and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.

You walked with poise, a sense of a confidence Spencer could never muster. He watched as you dove into the water so gracefully, and re-emerge a few feet in front of him.

You pushed your wet hair off your face and waded closer to him, wiping the water from your eyes.

Spencer felt a lump forming in his throat the closer you got. His eyes betrayed him and they fell to your chest, the water droplets rolling over your skin shimmered in the sun.

How I want to lick those beads of water off your skin.

“You ok?” You laughed, coming to a stop in front of him.

“M-me? Y-yes why wouldn’t I b-be.” He stuttered at the close proximity he now found himself in to you. He could reach out and touch you. He could reach out and kiss you.

He did neither.

“Come here,” he raised your hands out of the water. “Your hair is going to get in your eyes.”

You gently stroked a strand of Spencer’s wet hair out of his face and it sent a shiver racing up his spine.

His cock was aching. He’d never been touched by a woman in such a way. He’d never been touched by a woman in any way and honestly it felt like he could blow his load just from you stroking back his hair.

“Much better.” You smiled at him, leaving him feeling a little downtrodden when you withdrew your hand.

“Uh thanks.” He croaked, feeling light headed.

“You’re welcome.”

For a moment the two of you stared at each other, eyes locked as though communicating subconsciously.

Spencer wanted to grab hold of you and kiss you like there was no tomorrow. He wanted to pull you close and feel your body pressed up against his own, run his fingers over your every curve.

He wanted his hands to get lost in your hair. He wanted to bury himself between your thighs. He wanted to feel you, to taste you.

Honestly you were thinking the same, he just didn’t know it. His white t-shirt cling to his skin now soaked in water and you could just make out the soft skin of his chest underneath. You wanted to run your hands over that skin, through his hair, over every part of his body.

You wanted to feel him inside of you, his fingers, his cock, anything. You wanted to stare deep into his eyes while he made you come.

All of a sudden Spencer snapped out of his trance before he did something to make a fool of himself.

“I’ll race you to the next dock!” He dove beneath the surface before you had time to register his words.

You watched him go, splashing a lot as he swam, gangly limbs flailing.

It took you a few seconds to pick your mind up out of the gutter and start swimming after him.

Being the much more adept swimmer, despite Spencer’s head start you managed to beat him to the next dock.

He was much more out of breath than you when he arrived.

“How did you get into the FBI again?” You laughed as he gripped hold of the dock for dear life.

“They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field.” He panted.

“Clearly.” You teased. “Ohh and look, we’re right by the jet ski hire!” You pulled yourself up on the dock and sat on the edge looking down at Spencer.

“You know I hate those things. Did you know there are around seven hundred jet ski related accidents every year which results in approximately forty deaths? I don’t like those odds, I’ll wait on the dock.”

He tried and failed to get out of the water and in the end you had to help hoist him up.

“No way, you're coming with me.” You stood up and pulled him to his feet as well.

“I most certainly am not.” He made the mistake of looking into your eyes. Those beautiful expressive eyes that could probably make him commit murder.

“Please?” You asked softly and he was like putty in your hands.

“F-fine.” He grumbled.

“Yay!” You squealed a little, throwing yourself into his arms.

Your body pressed up against his and he tentatively wrapped his arms around you.

Your wet bathing suit and his wet t-shirt clung to each other and he could feel your every curve.

Thankfully you pulled away before he got too excited. You took hold of his hand now and started leading him towards the hire booth.

Honestly he’d let you lead him anywhere.

***

Spencer was still shaking almost ten minutes after pulling up in the small alcove a way up the lake and dismounting the jet ski.

He’d enjoyed the close proximity with you it had involved but it didn’t make up for the sheer terror of your haphazard driving.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You laughed staring down at him as he laid on the grass.

“All I’ll say is, if you drove a car like that I would never let you drive me anywhere.”

“It’s a jet ski Einstein, they are supposed to go fast.” You nudged his ribs with your toe. “Get up, we need to head back.”

“I would literally rather swim back.” He groaned.

You rolled your eyes, nudging his ribs again.

“It’s probably almost a mile back, don’t be so dramatic.” You leant over him and took hold of his hands, pulling him into a sitting position. “How about you drive? That way we can go at a granny pace.”

“Funny.” He grumbled, getting to his feet. “But I will drive actually. I’d rather not die of a heart attack on this lake.”

You slid the rubber band over your hand that the key dangled from and tossed it at Spencer.

He flapped about trying to catch it and just managed to stop it falling to the floor.

You got in your positions on the jet ski. You wrapped yourself tighter around him than was necessary, your arms snaking around his waist and resting on his stomach.

Spencer shuddered but he hoped you would think it was due to the wind.

It could have been the wind but the timing seemed a little too convenient. Did your touch really have that effect on him? He’d never given you any indication that he liked you in that way, but could it be possible? Maybe you would have to test that out.

Spencer took a tentative breath and started the jet ski’s engine. You tightened your hold on him as it started moving.

Spencer was slow to start with just like you had assumed he would be. It was quite nice actually. You had a chance to revel in the way the water felt as it splashed onto your bare legs, the way the wind felt in your hair.

But mostly you were wrapped up in the way it felt to be this close to Spencer.

You pressed your chest into your back, making sure he could feel your breasts on him. You started by gently moving your fingers over the fabric of his t-shirt, round in little circles on his stomach.

As he picked up the speed a little you dared to let your fingers drop a little lower, over his hip bones. You felt him tense a little but due to the sound of the jet ski you didn’t hear the way his breath hitched at your touch.

You moved your hands again, your fingers gently grazing the waistband of his swim shorts.

Spencer practically jumped at your touch so near his crotch and he inadvertently swerved sharply, so sharply that it sent the two of you flying off the seat and crashing into the water.

The engine cut off when the key attached around Spencer’s wrist was yanked out with him.

You both broke the surface, spluttering a little.

“What the hell Spencer?” you pushed your hair back off your face. “Why did you do that?”

Because you have no idea how long I have wanted you to touch me like that.

“You uh...your...I don’t know. I just lost control I guess.” he didn’t want to tell you that your touch had sent him into a tailspin and he had completely lost his focus.

But you had a pretty good idea that was what had happened. And if that was the case, why? Why had your touch affected him in that way? Surely he did not feel for you the way you felt about him?

It couldn’t be possible. But it surely did seem that way.

“I’ll drive the rest of the way.” you told him, rather than pushing him. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

But you might have to test this more, maybe on stable ground.

You both climbed back up onto the jet ski, Spencer slightly less gracefully than you, and he handed you over the key.

You made it back to the jet ski hire with no further incident and Spencer was happy to be back on dry land. Although he did miss the closeness the jet ski brought.

“I need to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back ok?” Spencer told you while you returned your life vests.

“Sure, I’ll be here.” you gave him a soft smile.

He couldn’t help but give your body a once over again, it was accidental, he couldn’t stop himself. The feeling of your fingers on his waistband and your chest pressed up against his back were imprinted in his mind and by the time he reached the bathroom he was hard again.

Making sure there was no one else in the bathroom he shut himself in one of the cubicles. He leant against the closed door and exhaled a shaky breath.

It wouldn’t be the first time he had touched himself while thinking of you but this seemed dirty. This wasn’t the comfort of his own bedroom where no one would catch him.

But he knew he needed to take care of this otherwise it would plague him all day.

With another shaky breath he relieved himself from his swim shorts. He closed his eyes, taking his length in his hand and started stroking himself. He bit his lip hard to stem his moans as he pictured you in that sinful bathing suit.

He imagined your fingers moving from his waistband inside his pants and tried to imagine it was your fingers wrapped around him.

He was panting and mumbling your name in no time and it didn’t take long at all for him to come.

He cleaned himself up as well as the tiled floor he had dirtied before using the facilities and heading back outside.

God he hoped you wouldn’t see his deed written all over his face, he would be mortified.

But by the looks of it, you were too busy to notice anything.

The guy putting the moves on you was shorter than Spencer but much more broad and muscular. He had sun kissed skin and beach blonde hair. He had a charming smile and it was clearly working its magic on you.

Spencer approached slowly, you didn’t seem to notice. As he reached your side the man looked over at him with a frown.

“Can we help you?” he asked Spencer.

“Spence, hi.” you smiled at him before turning all your attention back on the other man. “Greg, this is my best friend Spencer. Spencer, this is Greg.”

Best friend, of course, because that’s how you saw him. Friends. Only ever friends.

You hadn’t had any intention of talking to someone while Spencer was gone but when Greg had approached you, you engaged in friendly conversation.

He was attractive, sure, but in your eyes he had nothing on Spencer.

But there was something in Spencer’s eyes that looked a lot like jealousy. Maybe you could use Greg to your advantage?

“Greg invited us to a party at the lake tonight.” you spoke when neither man said anything.

“I actually invited you to a party.” Greg corrected you.

“Oh.” Spencer squeaked a little.

“I’m only coming if Spencer does.” You told Greg with a seductive smile.

Greg smiled at you and stepped a little closer.

“How can I say no to a face like yours.” He ran his finger over your cheek and Spencer wanted to smack him. “I’ll see you tonight babe.” He winked at you before sauntering away.

“He seems like a complete jackass.” Spencer grumbled once Greg was out of ear shot.

“You didn’t even speak to him.” You frowned at your friend.

“Neither did you, not really. I was only gone five minutes. I don’t think we should go to that party.”

“And why not?” You folded your arms over your chest.

“Because we don’t know him. He could be some creep for all we know.”

“I don’t think that’s what’s bothering you.” You stepped closer to Spencer making him swallow. “Are you jealous Spencer?”

“W-what?” He croaked. “Jealous? W-why would I be j-jealous?”

It was written all over his face. He was jealous.

“I don’t know Spence, you tell me.” You stepped even closer to him now, so close he could feel your breath on his face.

You let your hands drop to your side.

“Do you want me for yourself Spencer? Because you know all you’d have to do is ask.”

Good god, what are you doing to me?

Of course he wanted you all to himself, it’s all he’d ever wanted. But that didn’t change the fact you were his best friend and you were moving to different states.

Telling you he wanted you was completely pointless.

“Of course not.” He tried to scoff, forcing himself to step back away from you. “If you want Greg that’s fine by me.”

“Fine.” You spat.

“Fine.” Spencer mirrored.

And with that you turned on your heels and stormed away.

Maybe you’d been wrong after all. Of course Spencer didn’t like you. What a stupid thought that had been.

***

That night your dad allowed you and a very reluctant Spencer to use his car to head back to the lake and meet Greg and his friends.

You and Spencer hadn’t said much of anything to each other since that afternoon but if your parents had noticed they didn’t say anything.

You felt foolish for thinking he could have possibly been jealous. Of course there was no way the brilliant Spencer Reid looked at you that way. There was no way he would deem you smart enough or interesting enough.

It had clearly all been in your head. Or so you thought.

But of course it hadn’t.

Spencer had wanted to scream at you that of course he was jealous and of course he wanted you all to himself, but he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. There was no way he was confessing his feelings for you. He’d done a good job of keeping them hidden up until now and he certainly wasn’t going to let Greg be the reason he told you.

He would take his feelings for you to the grave. It was easier that way. It was easier than ruining your friendship.

You drove to the lake in stifled silence. Normally small talk wasn’t an issue for the two of you, you could talk about anything and everything for hours on end. But for the first time, neither of you had anything to say to one another.

Thankfully it wasn’t a long drive to the lake and you pulled up soon enough and exited the car as soon as you shut off the engine.

Spencer sighed loudly once alone in the car. This was the last time the two of you would be together in god knows how long and you were in a fight already on the first day of the trip.

He didn’t think the two of you had ever fought, not properly anyway. Was this a fight? Spencer wasn’t even sure. He hoped not. He spent a few minutes alone in the car just collecting himself.

He got out of the car and followed in your footsteps. You were already down by a bonfire near the lake edge with none other than Greg. Greg had his arm around your shoulders as he handed you a bottle of beer which you took with a smile.

Spencer took a deep breath before heading towards you. He really didn’t want to be a third wheel with the two of you but he also didn’t have the kind of confidence it took to go and talk to new people.

Third wheel it is.

“Hi,” you barely acknowledged him as he joined you and Greg and if Spencer wasn’t mistaken you moved your body closer to Greg.

He gave you a half-smile and nodded in Greg’s direction.

“Can I get you a beer?” Greg asked him.

“No thanks. One of us is going to have to drive back and looks like that’s going to be me.” Spencer shrugged, trying not to sound annoyed but he clearly did because he saw you roll your eyes.

“Want to take a walk Greg?” you smiled at the other man who gave your shoulders a squeeze as he eyed you up and down.

“I would love that.” he chuckled and before Spencer knew it he was leading you away from him.

It had been all of two minutes and you had already abandoned him. Great.

He turned away from the lake and started back up towards the car assuming he would just wait for you there while you were off doing god knows what with Greg.

He made his way towards the car but didn’t get very far before someone ran into him, knocking him to the floor.

“Ow.” he groaned as he hit the ground, someone landing roughly on top of him.

“Oh my gosh, I am so, so sorry!” she pushed herself off of him, standing up before holding out a hand to help him.

Spencer took it and allowed the stranger to pull him to his feet.

“I was chasing after a frisbee and I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you ok?” she was smiling sweetly at him and Spencer couldn’t help but think it was a very pretty smile.

Maybe not as pretty as yours but pretty in its own right.

“It’s ok.” he told her, shaking it off. “These things happen. I’m uh...I’m Spencer.”

She smiled again and nodded.

“Rose.” she replied. “Would you care to join me for a drink Spencer?”

“You know what?” Spencer smiled. “I don’t mind if I do.”

***

You and Greg had walked further up the lake and found a spot near the water's edge to sit. It didn’t take long before his lips were on yours and his fingers were in your hair.

It was...nice. It was nothing special but it was ok. And you couldn’t help but wish it was Spencer’s lips pressed against your own.

When Greg’s hands moved from your hair down to your breasts, palming them through your top a little roughly, you pushed him back.

“Nuh uh.” you shook your head frowning at him. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh come on babe, we’re just having a little fun.”

“We can have fun without you groping me.” you picked up your beer bottle and swigged from it.

“I didn’t peg you as a prude Y/N.” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Because I’m not. I prefer the term selective.” you scoffed.

He didn’t take your reluctance as a no however and he moved in again, his lips latching on to your neck and his hand finding your thigh.

He moved his hand higher up your bare leg, over your denim shorts and soon his fingers were toying with the button.

Once again you pushed him, harder than before.

“Hey asshole.” you spat. “I said no.”

He rolled his eyes, picking up his own beer, downing the contents and then tossing it away.

“You’re a drag.” he groaned. “Is this because of that pipe cleaner friend of yours?”

“No.” you pushed yourself up from the ground, grabbing your beer. “This has nothing to do with Spencer. I just don’t like pushy men who think they’re god's gift to women.”

You turned away from him and started back towards the bonfire you could see burning brightly in the distance.

“Girls like you are a dime a dozen.” he called after you.

You flipped him the bird over your shoulder but you didn’t turn back to look at him.

“Asshole.” you muttered to yourself.

You should have listened to Spencer, he’d always been a good judge of character. Maybe you’d have to apologise to him.

You made your way back to the bonfire to find him and make up but you didn’t have to look far.

He was sitting on one of the logs next to the fire but he wasn’t alone.

He had a petite redhead sitting in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck. And her lips were hungrily exploring his.

“Oh god.” you felt like you’d just been kicked in the chest, like all the air had been forced from your lungs.

You lost your grip on the beer bottle and it fell to the ground.

His hands were gently on her hips, holding her place while he explored her mouth.

Your tears came out of nowhere, alarming you as they started heavily cascading down your cheeks.

Just as a sob wracked your body, you took off running up the bank and towards the car.

You couldn’t watch anymore. Seeing Spencer kiss that girl made your heart feel like it was shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.

You got back in the car and sobbed. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Spencer and that girl, locking lips.

And all you could think was, it should be me.

***

“Sorry if that was really forward of me.” Rose blushed a little when the kiss ended.

Spencer was blushing too, but he had been since their lips first touched.

“I-it’s o-ok.” he stuttered, completely baffled by what had just happened. “I-it was n-nice.”

“I hope it was a little more than nice.” Rose giggled.

But it wasn’t. It was simply nice. It was a nice kiss but it wasn’t with you. He’d kissed girls before but it never felt quite right. And he knew it was because he wasn’t kissing you.

He didn’t speak, he couldn’t find the right words to say.

Rose’s face fell a little and she slid off Spencer’s lap onto the log next to him.

“I know that look.” she chewed her lip. “That’s the look of a guy who is thinking about someone else.”

He wanted to argue with her but it seemed pointless.

“I’m sorry.” He shrugged pathetically. “You’re beautiful and you have no idea how much I wish I wasn’t thinking about someone else. But I am. I always am.”

“It’s ok.” She placed her hand gently on his knee. “It was nice to meet you Spencer.” She pushed herself up from the log.

“You too Rose.” He stood too, needing to find you before you did anything stupid with Greg.

Just as he had this thought, Greg came wandering towards the bonfire alone.

“Where’s Y/N?” Spencer rushed over to him.

“How should I know?” Greg scoffed. “That girl is a cock tease. Not worth my time.”

“Don’t say that.” Spencer practically whined, making Greg chuckle.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Greg snarled at him.

“I uh...I need to find Y/N.” He changed the subject. He did not want to get into a fight because he would most certainly lose.

“Whatever.” Greg scoffed, turning away from Spencer.

Spencer scanned the crowds but couldn’t see you, he knew he’d be able to pick you out of any crowd.

He practically sprinted back to the car, hoping to find you there and as luck would have it, there you were in the driver's seat.

But even in the dark he could see that you were crying.

He ran to the passenger door and flung it open.

“Oh my god Y/N, what’s wrong?” He threw his arms around you, pulling you closer over the console.

“Get off me.” You pushed him away, sniffing back your tears.

“What’s wrong? What did Greg do?” He asked clearly not noticing your hostility towards him.

You sighed, not wanting to tell your best friend you were crying over seeing him kiss another girl, you shook your head, fixing your seatbelt in place.

“Nothing. I just want to forget all about tonight.” You started the engine.

“O-ok.” Spencer chewed his lip.

Neither of you spoke again on the drive back to the campsite or once you were back in your pod.

You slipped into the bed and Spencer in his sleeping bag on the floor.

Neither of you got much sleep that night, you both had too much on your mind. Namely, being in love with your best friends who were seemingly oblivious.

***

The next morning when you awoke you decided today was a new day. You weren’t going to allow yourself to spend the whole trip being mad at Spencer.

You’d never seen him with a girl before, it had been a shock. But he was twenty two, he must have had girlfriends before you guess he’d just chosen not to tell you. And it wasn’t as though you’d never been with a man.

You resided yourself to the fact that you and Spencer were destined to be friends and that was ok. At least it would be ok. It had to be.

You knelt down on the floor next to his sleeping bag and watched him for a second. He was sound asleep, his breathing soft and even. His plump lips were parted ever so slightly and his hair was draped over the pillow. His eyelashes grazed the skins under his eyes.

Maybe it would be a little harder than you thought to just see him as a friend.

Suddenly his eyes fluttered open and landed on you.

He frowned a little, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“Uh...good morning.” He croaked, voice riddled with sleep. “Were you staring at me while I slept?”

“No.” You scoffed, standing back up. “I was just wondering if I could free your hand and put it in a glass of water, see if that peeing thing really works.” You started rummaging through one of your bags to hide your blush from Spencer.

“Mature.” He laughed a little as he sat up. “Hey Y/N, are you ok?”

You took a few deep breaths and turned back to him with a large, fake smile on your lips.

“I’m great.” You beamed. “Now get up sleepy head, we’re going for a hike!”

And with that you took your clothes and stepped over him, undoing the front of the tent pod and disappearing.

Spencer ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh.

He wished falling out of love with you was as easy as it had been falling in love with you.

Not being in love with his best friend would make his life so much easier. But life never was good to Spencer.

***

Spencer loved your family but you were all much more athletic than he could ever hope to be. After a five mile hike, Spencer was exhausted. Sweat made his shirt cling to his body and his hair stick to his forehead.

When your mom had suggested stopping for the picnic she had packed, he was more than happy to oblige.

He practically fell to the grass on his back, panting and sweating.

“If it wasn’t for that huge brain of yours there is no way you would have gotten into the FBI.” you laughed as you flopped down next to him.

“Be nice Y/N.” your mom scalded you to which you rolled your eyes.

Your mom set some food while your dad poured glasses of soda for you all. You spent an hour sitting in the sunshine eating while Spencer worked on getting his breath back.

They still had a five mile walk back.

Spencer found himself stealing glances at you as you ate, like he usually did. He never grew tired of watching you.

You were wearing cargo pants and a vest top. His eyes caressed the side of your neck and the curve of your shoulder and your collarbone. Your skin glistened a little from the heat.

His eyes grazed up to the side of your face and the stray strand of hair that fell onto your face. He wanted to lean in and tuck behind your ear but that seemed too intimate.

He must have been watching you for a long time because when he resurfaced from his thoughts your mom was packing up what was left of the picnic.

“Spence and I will make our way back.” You stood up and brushed down the back of your cargo pants.

“Don’t get lost.” You dad shot you a sarcastic look.

“We’ll be fine. Come on Spence.” You encouraged to which he stood too.

“See you later.” He waved at your parents before following where you had already started walking.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” He asked once he caught up with you.

“No idea.” You shrugged.

“Oh good, just what I want. To get lost in the woods with you.” He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah I’m sure you’d much rather get lost in the woods with that redhead from last night, right?” The bitterness was seeping from your words.

Spencer stopped in his tracks.

“Uh...what redhead?” He tried to lie, he didn’t know what you’d seen so he didn’t want to give away too much.

“Don’t play dumb Spencer.” You stopped too so you could look at him. “The one who was cosied up on your lap, eating your face.”

“Oh. That redhead.” He chewed his lip. “I uh...didn’t realise you saw that.”

“Well I did.” You shrugged. “Looked like you were having fun.”

“It w-was...she was nice I guess.”

“Good.” You spat a little more harshly than you’d meant to.

Spencer frowned, stepping closer to you, leaves crunching under foot.

“Are you annoyed?”

“What? No. Why would I be annoyed?” You scoffed, giving him your best eye roll.

“You seem annoyed.”

“Well I’m not.”

“Good. Because you wouldn’t have any right to be.” It was like he was poking a bear with a stick. He was trying to get a rise out of you.

“And why wouldn’t I?” It was working, you were rising to it.

“Because you left me alone while you went off to do god knows what with Greg. I had to pass the time somehow.”

“By sticking your tongue down some random girl's throat?”

“I’m sure you were doing much more with him.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You growled, stepping closer to him now.

“You know exactly what that means.” He stepped closer to you too, as though you were challenging each other.

“You really think I was off fucking him?” You raised your voice. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Weren’t you?” He shrugged.

“I most certainly was not! He tried to get fresh with me and I pushed him away. He was a jackass! And then I come back to find you making out with that girl!”

“So you are annoyed about that?”

“Yes, happy? Yes I am annoyed about that.” You yelled.

Spencer closed the space between you but you stepped backwards away from him. He backed you into a tree where you collided with the bark.

He put his hands either side of your head pinning you in place.

Where had this side of him come from?

“Why are you annoyed Y/N?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t.” You tried to insist but you knew he could see right through you.

“Tell me. Tell me why you’re annoyed with me for Christ sakes Y/N! What did I do that was so wrong? I was just having some fun.”

“Without me.” You pouted.

“I can’t have fun without you?”

“No, it’s not that.” You shook your head, very conscious of how close Spencer was to you.

“So what is it then? Tell me.”

“I don’t like seeing you with another girl ok?” You raised your voice again.

“But I have to see you with another man?”

“I offered myself to you Spencer. I said all you had to do was ask. You said no. What was I supposed to think?”

“Y-you…you meant that?” His facade faltered and his hands fell to his sides.

“Of course I did.” You spat.

“You...you…” he swallowed.

“It should have been me you were kissing. Asshole.” You mumbled pathetically.

Spencer didn’t know what came over him at that moment but he couldn’t hold back.

He took your face in his hands and pushed you back against the tree trunk before pressing his lips to yours.

For a moment you kissed him back but then your anger returned and suddenly you were pushing him away.

“Stop it!” You yelled. “It’s too little too late Spencer. I don’t want to be your second choice. I don’t want you after she’s had you.”

“S-second choice? Y/N you could never be my-“

“Save it.” You pushed passed him and started walking again. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. We need to get back before it starts getting dark.”

You didn’t know what had come over you. All you’d ever wanted was to feel Spencer’s lips on yours. But when he kissed you, all you could think of was that redhead from last night.

And it broke your heart all over again.

***

“Spence?” You whispered into the dark. “Spence are you awake?”

It had been a long, awkward walk back followed by a long, awkward evening back at the campsite with your parents.

You and Spencer had said barely two words to each other before you called for an early night and crawled into your bed.

“Yeah I’m awake.” He whispered in reply from the floor.

“I’m...I’m really cold.” You felt foolish but you were freezing, you couldn’t seem to warm up.

And the only thing you could think that would help would be Spencer’s warm body next to you.

You heard him sigh followed by some rustling. Then you saw his silhouette beside the bed.

“You want me to warm you up?” He asked softly.

“If it’s not...too much to ask.” You didn’t deserve him being kind to you but that was the thing about Spencer, he was always there when you needed him. No matter what.

He sighed again before lifting the covers and sliding into the bed.

“Come here.” He held his arm open for you and you slid closer to him, his arm wrapping around your waist and you rested your head on his chest.

As suspected, he was radiating warmth. You snuggled into him sighing in content. He ran his fingers up and down your side.

“I’m sorry about earlier Y/N.” he spoke into your hair.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you, not like that. It was wrong of me and I’m sorry.”

You shifted a little so you could look up at him.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, Spence. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I just...I don’t like the way I felt seeing you with that girl.”

“It didn’t feel great for me seeing you with Greg either.” he cupped your face with his free hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship, Spence.” a tear escaped your eye. “You’re my best friend and I don’t want to do anything to change that. But I can’t pretend that it didn’t hurt to see you with another girl. And I suppose that means I have feelings for you that go beyond friendship. But I can’t lose my best friend Spence.” a few more tears fell and Spencer tried to wipe them away with his thumb.

“I know Y/N, me too.” He agreed, chewing his lip.

You settled back into his chest and he tightened his hold on you. If this was as close as he could have you then he was going to soak in every moment.

Eventually you both fell asleep, into peaceful slumbers brought on by being wrapped in each other’s embraces.

***

For the rest of the week you and Spencer avoided unnecessary touches and glances each other’s way.

You tried to act normal. You tried to act like you hadn’t kissed and spent the night in each other’s arms.

You knew your parents suspected something was amiss with the two of you, you weren’t quite as pally as you usually were but neither of them said anything.

You spent days at the lake, you went for hikes and sat around the campfire in the evenings as the sunset around you.

On your final night your parents retired to their pod but you remained sitting on one of the logs, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“Are you coming to bed?” Spencer asked you softly.

“Not yet, I might watch the stars for a while.”

“Want company?” He smiled at you and you nodded.

He laid his own blanket out of the ground and motioned for you to come over.

You laid side by side on your backs and you draped your blanket over the top of you both as you stared up at the sky.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving for DC when we get back.” You sniffed back any tears that might fall. “I have to spend the rest of the summer at home without you.”

“You’ll be off to college in a few weeks. You’ll forget all about me.”

You rolled your head to the side and he did the same so you were looking at each other.

“Spence, I could never forget you.” You reached for his hand and entwined your fingers.

He sighed in content at your touch. It was the most physical contact you’d had in almost a week.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m going to miss you too Spence.”

You laid like that under the stars, just staring into each other’s eyes for some time. There were so many things you both wanted to say but nothing seemed good enough.

Somehow you ended up closer together on the blanket, you’re not sure how it happened. You weren’t sure if you’d moved closer or if Spencer had or maybe you both had, but somehow you ended up with barely a few inches between your faces.

You could feel his soft breath on your face and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his lips. That kiss had burned itself into your brain and you couldn’t believe you’d pushed him away before you got to really enjoy it.

“Spence,” you whispered after a long stretch of silence.

“Yes Y/N?”

“All you have to do is ask.” You repeated what you’d said to him at the lake your first day.

He knew exactly what you meant and it made his chest tighten at the mere thought.

“Y/N?” He whispered, edging even closer to you.

“Yes?”

“Can I...c-can I kiss you?” He stuttered.

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t Spence.”

He let go of your hand so he could cup your cheek and slowly closed the small space between you.

This time when your lips met it was slow and soft. You revelled in the feeling of his plump, pillowy lips pressed against yours for a moment before you cautiously parted your lips.

Spencer was tentative in his movements as though you may push him away again at any moment.

But of course you didn’t. He slid his tongue in your mouth and started exploring you, slowly at first but soon an animal instinct took over.

He explored your mouth hungrily, holding your face delicately in his large hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck and helped him roll on top of you.

He was hard already, you could feel it pressing against you and you knew a kiss wasn’t going to be enough.

You played with his hair, tugging it a little and he moaned into your mouth, subconsciously grinding his hips into yours.

You dared to let your hands roam his back until you reached the hem of his hoodie and slipped your hands under the fabric.

He moaned again at the feeling of your hands on the skin of his back. It spurred you on to rake your nails lightly over his flesh. You were met with another hard roll of his hips.

The kiss ended so you could both gasp for the air that had left your lungs. Spencer chewed his lip nervously, scared of what might happen next.

“Should w-we uh...do you want to go into t-the tent?” he was so unsure of himself. He didn’t want to sound as though he was being presumptive.

“No,” you whispered, but you were smiling. “I want to stay out here.”

“B-but your parents…”

“Sleep like logs.” you laughed, stroking back his hair. “Spencer, I want you to make love to me under the stars. Do you think that’s something...something you can d-do?” you suddenly felt nervous telling him what you wanted. Maybe that’s not what he wanted? Maybe it was just a kiss?

But the hiss that slipped from his lips told you it was exactly what he wanted.

“I-I...there is n-nothing in the world I want m-more.” he swallowed. “B-but I...I’ve never...done this before.” his cheeks turned crimson in an instant.

Your heart swelled. You had no idea. You assumed Spencer was just quiet about his exploits. You had no idea he’d never been with a woman before.

“Oh,” you didn’t really know what to say. “Is this...have you ever pictured, you know, what your uh...first time would be like?”

His blush deepened and he gnawed heavily on his lip.

“All the time.” he confessed. “And it’s always with you.”

“Kiss me Spence.” you smiled at him, pulling him closer again by his neck.

Your lips met again but this time it was much more frantic and desperate, now you both knew exactly where this was going.

You hooked your fingers under the hem of his hoodie and pulled it up his body. He sat back so he could pull it over his head.

“T-shirt too.” you told him with a smirk while he was sat up.

He looked a little nervous but he complied. In all the years you’d known Spencer you didn’t think you’d ever seen him shirtless before. He was always conservative, insecure about how skinny he was. But in that moment he didn’t have time to worry about his insecurities, all he wanted was you and that was all that mattered.

He discarded the items of clothing, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Your eyes raked up and down his torso and soon your fingers followed suit, running over his flesh. He hissed again, telling you he liked it.

“W-what about you?” you swallowed nervously.

“What about me?” you smirked. You knew what he meant but you wanted to hear him say it.

“Y-you uh...can I...your dress?” he was blushing again and it was so adorable.

“Spencer, you can do whatever you like to me.” your voice was dripping with seduction and it made his cock twitch achingly. Oh how he’d dreamed of this moment.

His hands were shaking as he reached for the bottom of your dress. He was slow to raise the fabric, making sure you weren’t going to change your mind.

He inched it up your thighs and paused when he got it to your hips. The black pair of lace panties you wore underneath made his head spin.

“Oh gosh.” he panted a little as he spoke.

You smiled, arching your back so he could continue undressing you. Inch by inch the fabric got higher and higher, revealing more of your body.

Once you had discarded the dress, Spencer sat back again to take you all in. Your panties had a matching bra, cupping your breasts magnificently.

“Do you like what you see, Spence?”

“Are you kidding?” He smiled. “You are perfection Y/N.”

You raked your nails down his chest once more and came to a stop at the waistband of his trousers. You toyed with the button a little.

“Can I?” You whispered.

He chewed his lip and nodded.

You unbuttoned his trousers and tugged them over his hips. He wriggled out of them and tossed them in a pile with the rest of the clothes.

His cock was straining at the front of his boxers, begging to be freed.

You allowed yourself to palm him through his underwear. His head fell back and he moaned deeply.

“Oh gosh.” He panted. “I’m sorry, no ones ever touched me like this before.”

You smiled to yourself, loving that no other woman had been here before. But you could also tell if you were to touch him properly, he wouldn’t last to the main event.

You moved your hand to his wrist and guided his hand between your legs instead.

You panties were soaked already.

He looked at you with large, uncertain eyes, but you nodded in encouragement.

“Please Spencer?”

He swallowed.

“What if I’m no good.” He whined a little.

“It’s ok baby,” you cooed. “You could never make me feel anything other than amazing.”

You let go of his wrist and his fingers shakily played with the lace fabric.

He took a few deep breaths before he moved the fabric aside enough so he could get to your heat.

He was so cautious with his movements, trying to ensure he was doing everything right.

He’d read books. He’d watched porn. But he’d never had the real thing.

He started slow, circling your clit with his fingertip in gentle movements. It was enough to make several moans leave your parted lips and he took that as a good sign.

You pulled him down by his neck so you could kiss him again and his confidence built a little, moving his fingers faster between your legs.

“Oh god Spence,” you mumbled into his lips. “That feels so good baby.”

Spencer felt a swell of pride that he was able to make you feel good, but he wanted more, needed more.

“Y/N,” he panted. “C-can I...can we…”

“Yes Spence. God yes.” You kissed him again and he reluctantly removed his hand from between your legs.

You arched your back and unhooked your bra.

His mouth fell open at the sight of your breasts and he moaned viscerally.

You smiled, taking hold of both of his wrists now and placing his large hands on your breasts.

“F-fuck.” He moaned feeling you beneath his hands. “Jeez Y/N.”

You laughed, now working on sliding your panties down your legs.

Spencer gave your breasts a small squeeze, tweaking your nipples a little between his fingers.

You moved your hands to his hips and cautiously slid his boxers down his hips. You couldn’t stop the small moan that left your lips as you freed his erect member.

“Fuck Spence,” you groaned eyeing him up.

He removed his hands from your breasts so he could shimmy his boxers off.

He laid back down on top of you, his cock nestling between your legs. He kissed you softly, stroking back your hair.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something before w-we...you know…”

“You can tell me anything.” you encouraged him.

“Y/N, I have been in l-love with you for as long as I can remember. I need you t-to know that. I need you to know h-how inconceivably in love with you I am.”

You felt tears spring to your eyes at his words. You pulled him close for another kiss.

“Spencer, I love you too baby.” you whispered, making him sigh in relief.

“I have waited so long to hear you say that.”

“You should have asked.” You smirked, kissing him again. “Are you ready baby?”

He nodded with a deep breath. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he kept his eyes firmly on yours he slowly pushed his way inside of you.

His eyes widened and his jaw fell slack. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for the way you felt. Honestly, he almost came as soon as your tight heat was sheathed around him.

He pushed all the way inside you, filling you up beautifully. He paused to take a few steadying breaths.

“Are you ok?” You traced your finger along his bottom lip.

“Yeah,” he panted. “I just need a minute. I don’t want to uh…f-finish too soon.” He blushed.

“Take your time Spence.” You smiled lovingly at him.

He took a few more breaths and captured your lips in a kiss before he started moving slowly.

He was careful in his movements, slow and gentle as though you were made of glass.

He withdrew almost all the way, before slowly plunging back inside you.

His eyes rolled back in his head and the two of you moaned together under the starry sky.

“Jesus Y/N.” He gasped. “This f-feels so...so…”

“I know Spence,” you kissed him harder, messily exploring his mouth, your hands roaming his body and he moved in and out of you.

“I’m r-really not g-gonna…l-last long.” He spoke into your lips.

“Touch me again Spence. I want to come with you.”

He exhaled, moving his hand between your bodies and his fingers started circling your clit once more as he continued his slow thrusts.

The feeling of being inside you was otherworldly. Spencer had never dreamed in a million years it would feel this magical.

He wanted it to last forever. He never wanted this end. If he could feel one thing for the rest of his life he wanted it to be you wrapped around his dick.

He was getting closer and closer to the edge but now his fingers were working deftly on you, so you were you.

You found it hard to believe he’d never done this before because he was amazing at it. He seemed to know just what to do to bring you to your orgasm.

“I’m s-sorry Y/N…I can’t...I’m g-gonna…”

“Me too Spence.”

Hearing you moan his name was all he could take and with one last thrust, Spencer came, filling you with his load.

You came too, clenching around his spasming cock.

He fell on top of you, panting and moaning into your neck.

You wrapped him in your arms and kissed his messy hair.

“God damn Spencer,” you panted. “That was incredible.”

“R-really?” He lifted his head so he could look at you.

“Absolutely.” You held his face and kissed him gently. “I love you Spencer.”

“I love you too Y/N. So much.”

“Shall we go to bed?”

“Five more minutes under the stars?” He asked to which you nodded.

He gently pulled out of you and rolled onto his back on the blanket. You curled into him, resting your head on his chest.

He wrapped one arm around you and held your hand tightly.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” You sighed sleepily, looking up at the night sky.

“Not half as beautiful as you Y/N.”

***

It didn’t take long at all for you both to fall asleep like that. Thankfully you woke up before your parents and managed to sneak back into your tent before they found you.

Your dad would have a coronary if he found the two of you like that.

The drive back was long, it seemed longer than on the way. Maybe because you knew your time together was coming to an end.

Tomorrow Spencer would be leaving for DC and who knows when you would next see each other again.

At least you had your night together under the stars.

You were both exhausted when you arrived home so retired to your own homes to rest, Spencer promising to come and see you before he left the following morning.

Your night together had been magical, but the air between you was now stifled. It was what Spencer feared most. Giving into his urges had probably ruined your friendship.

And now he was leaving and didn’t have time to make it up to you.

As promised he showed up at your front door the following morning, his car already packed up.

You stepped out onto the porch and closed the front door behind you.

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving.” you wrapped your arms around your body as though shielding yourself from the pain that was going to be caused.

“I know, me either. I never imagined leaving Vegas, not permanently anyway.” he shrugged sadly.

“Don’t forget about me when you’re a hot shot in the FBI, Agent Reid.” you gave him a half smile.

“You and I both know it’s Doctor Reid.” he tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sigh. “Look Y/N, I need to know. After what happened the other night…”

“Spence-”

“Where do we stand Y/N?” he cut you off. “What...what are we?”

You sighed heavily and tried to smile even though your heart was breaking.

“We’re best friends, Spence.” you shrugged. “Always.”

“Best friends.” he muttered sadly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Spencer, we’re moving to different parts of the country, I’m not sure exactly what you thought that night was.”

No, neither am I.

“What was it to you?” he said instead.

“I guess...it was a perfect way to say goodbye.”

Spencer couldn’t keep his resolve any longer and his tears broke free, falling down his cheeks.

“Of course. Goodbye.” he whispered.

“Spence, please don’t cry.” you reached for him but he stepped out of your touch.

“I need to uh...g-get going. It’s a long drive to Quantico.” he rubbed the palms of his hands heavily over his eyes.

“Spence,”

“Really, I n-need to go.” he turned away from you and jogged down the front steps of your house and down the path.

“Spencer, please don’t leave like this.” you called after him, dangerously close to tears yourself.

“Goodbye Y/N.” he turned back to you when he reached the front gate. “I’ll always love you.” he sniffed but before you could say anything more, he was gone.

He ran to his car and seconds later he was inside and you were watching him pull away.

You fell to the ground on the porch and you sobbed. What else could you possibly do? You’d lost your best friend and the love of your life in one fell swoop.

All because of one stupid night under the stars.

Ask the stars up in the sky,

Ask the stars they’ll tell you why.

Stars know ev’ry little thing you do,

There’s a little star that’s watching you.

Ask the stars when you’re with me,

Ask the stars then watch and see.

***

Quantico, Virginia - 2020

Seventeen years seem to pass almost in the blink of an eye. One day Spencer was walking into the BAU for the first time and seemingly the next he was almost forty with a lifetime of trauma behind him.

He thought about you every single day for the longest time. He wondered what you were doing with your life. Were you happy? Had you met someone and got married? Had kids?

Honestly he probably still thought about you every day of his life until he met Maeve.

Maeve was a wonderful reprieve from thoughts of you, and for the first time in almost ten years you hadn’t been the first thought on his mind when he woke in the morning.

But he’d never loved her the way he loved you. It was probably for the best that he and Maeve never got to be together properly because it would have inevitably ended when he couldn’t give her his whole heart.

No, he’d left a piece of that in Vegas years ago.

After Maeve he thought about you from time to time but not everyday like he once had. When he was incarcerated he thought about you a lot. He wondered what you think of him if you could see him sitting in that cell, becoming a man he didn’t recognise. Surely you wouldn’t recognise him either.

Then he met Max and once again he thought maybe, just maybe he would finally be able to give his heart to someone else. But his hopes were dashed. They dated for a few months but she always knew there was someone else. Someone else occupied his mind and his heart and it wasn’t fair on Max to stay with her in the hopes that one day he might be able to love her like he loved you.

You hadn’t fared much better in the love department.

You met a man in college and the two of you married at the tender age of twenty one. You knew you were over compensating. You knew this wasn’t the man you were supposed to be with. But he helped take your mind off your lost love and you were sure in time you would stop thinking about Spencer all together.

But of course you didn’t.

The marriage lasted three years and you were divorced soon after your twenty fourth birthday. There had been other men over the years, but none lasted very long.

They scratched an itch. They filled a void in your life that had existed since Spencer walked out. But inevitably you couldn’t commit so each one ended quicker than the last.

You stayed in Vegas all those years, maybe hoping one day Spencer would come back to you, but of course that had been foolish. Spencer was off living his own life, he probably hadn’t given you a second thought in years.

And then, at the age of thirty five, the job offer came that changed everything.

***

“It’s so quiet around here.” Luke mused as he and Spencer walked through the bullpen.

“Yeah I know what you mean. How is Garcia getting on at her new job?”

“She’s enjoying it but she misses the BAU.”

“Tell her we miss her too. Isn’t her replacement meant to be starting today?”

“She is and she’s settling into her new office.” Emily’s voice caught Spencer and Luke’s attention.

“I guess we should go and introduce ourselves.” Luke shrugged.

“Sure,” Spencer shrugged too and the two of them made their way out of the bullpen towards Garcia’s old office.

“I bet it’s going to be so drab.” Luke laughed.

“No more unicorn mugs or fluffy pens.” Spencer agreed.

“Penelope is one of a kind.”

“Undoubtedly.” Spencer swiped his card on the door and pushed the door handle before stepping into the office, Luke just behind him.

“You must be our new technical analyst.” Luke spoke as the door closed behind the two agents.

The woman sat in Garcia’s old chair tapping on the keys turned in the chair to face them.

She seemed to move in slow motion.

“I’m SSA Luke Alvez and this is Doctor-”

“Spencer Reid.” she cut him off, the words falling from her lips.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Spencer croaked, glaring at the woman in front of him as if he’d seen a ghost.

Luke frowned looking between the two of them who seemed to have forgotten his presence.

Spencer and Y/N stared at each other without saying a word. Spencer’s chest tightened, constricting his breathing. Was he having a heart attack? Was this how he was going to die?

“You uh, know each other?” Luke spoke up.

“Uh...did know each other.” you croaked not tearing your eyes away from Spencer.

“A long time ago.” Spencer added, not looking away from you either.

Sensing the tension in the room, Luke backed up towards the door.

“Maybe I should let the two of you get reacquainted.” he said but neither of you acknowledged him.

He pushed his way back into the hall just as JJ was heading his way.

“Hey, I was just coming to meet the new tech analyst.” she smiled at him.

“I would give it a minute.” Luke told her, making her frown.

“Why?”

“There’s a lot of unfinished business in that room, trust me.” he put his arm around her shoulders to lead her away from the door.

“Spencer and the new Garcia?”

“Yeah.” Luke sighed. “If my profiling skills are accurate, I would say they were in love once. Probably still are.”

Back inside Garcia’s old office, you and Spencer were still staring at each other.

“I had no idea you still worked here, I swear. I wouldn’t have taken the job if I’d known.” you chewed your lip awkwardly.

“You look different.” he spoke as though ignoring what you’d said.

“Well yes, it has been a long time Spencer.”

“Seventeen years, three months and fifteen days.”

“Precisely.” you frowned at his recall. “I’m not eighteen anymore.”

“No and I’m not twenty two.” he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

It was longer now, curlier and messier. He sported stubble on his cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He’d gained weight, somehow gotten even taller you were sure.

He was most certainly not the twenty two year old Spencer Reid you had spent a night with under the stars.

“You look different too. Good different.” you told him.

“A lifetime of trauma will probably do that.” he nodded stiffly.

“Spencer? Strange question for you…”

“Yeah?”

“Did you uhm...did you ever tell Penelope about...that night.” you felt yourself blushing.

Spencer closed his eyes for a moment with a sigh.

He hadn’t been this drunk in a really long time. Maybe ever. Spencer never had been a big drinker. But they’d had a tough case and Garcia had suggested they all spend the evening at her apartment drinking.

Spencer couldn’t recall who exactly had suggested the drinking games, possibly Kate, but they had been Spencer’s downfall.

“You never did answer the question,” Garica helped Spencer into his jacket after everyone else had left.

“What question?” he slurred, narrowing his eyes on her.

“During truth or dare Morgan asked you how you lost your virginity. You didn’t answer.”

He swallowed, stumbling over his feet a little.

“I uh…” he sighed. “It was with my best friend. On a camping trip under the stars.”

“How romantic!” Garcia swooned.

“Hmm not really. It doesn’t have a happy ending.”

“I don’t remember,” he opened his eyes. “Why?”

“I met her a few times before she left, she was training me up while you guys were away on cases. She told me about the team and that’s when I figured out you still worked here, but I’d already accepted the job by then. Anyway I told her I used to know you, that we were best friends. I didn’t really think much of it until I found this today.” you fished in your pocket and pulled out a brightly coloured post it note. “It was slotted between the desks. I recognise her handwriting.”

You handed the small folded up note to Spencer who took it and unfolded it. In Garcia’s signature handwriting, it read, “You’re in love, just ask the stars.”

“Ok so maybe I did tell her about my best friend who I lost my virginity to under the stars.” he confessed.

“Ah then the note makes sense.” you took it back from him and slid it back into your pocket.

“Yeah.”

Silence followed, heavy, palpable silence.

He thought maybe after all this time he didn’t feel as strongly about you as he used to. But looking into your beautiful eyes, all those feelings came flooding back to him. He didn’t have a shadow of a doubt that he was still in love with you.

The question was, did you still feel the same?

As if reading his mind you stepped a little closer to Spencer, cautiously at first but when he didn’t shy away you came even closer.

You took hold of his tie and played with it between your fingers.

“I know what you’re thinking Spence,” you smiled coyly. “I always know what you’re thinking.”

“You should have been a profiler.” He smiled softly, making you laugh.

“I’ve said it once, Spence and I’ll say it again. If you want to know if I’m still in love with you...all you have to do, is ask.”

When they twinkle, twinkle,

Wedding bells will tinkle, tinkle.

You’re in love, just ask the stars.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid fanfiction #penelope garcia #luke alvez #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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dinogoofy · 3 years

Text

Scorpion/GN!Reader.

Might kiss you, might rip out your guts.- part one

If you think you've read this before, you've read the earlier version! I've edited and changed enough of the story to need a new post about it, so here it is!

A short summary would be that this is a enemies to friends to lovers fic between a winged reader and Hanzo Hasashi. It will be split in 2 or 3 parts!

I also feel like I should clarify that Hanzo is only referred to as Scorpion because the reader does not know his name until the next part.

MAJOR TW FOR DESCRIPTIONS OF GORE

You could still remember it.

The arena. The smell of the blood, the stench of death. The bodies you saw wheeled out in masses of champions. Blood spattered weapons and walls. A picture was clear in your mind of the horror you felt. Of the anxiety and fear you had to push down every moment you remained in that coliseum. After all the training you had been through, nothing could've prepared you for this.

Being a renowned half breed, one of earthrelm and outworld, you and all your feathered glory was never under the radar of the Gods. After spending your life in earthrelm with your mother, Raiden believed that he could trust you. He had tracked you down and informed you of the details months earlier. Asked you to ready yourself the best you could, earthrealm couldn't lose this. And there you were, stalking the hallways before your battle.

You were nervous. Who wouldn't be? You were a hunter, not a fighter. You tracked your targets from the sky, taking them down before they had a chance to truly fight back. Your fighting style had never been meant for a closed in fight like this. You had almost told Raiden no for that reason, but with the fate of Earthrealm in as the prize, you couldn't do so with a clean conscience.

You remember the little girl, the servant who was being harassed by a separate contestant. One that was sure to die, if you got your hands on him at least. You had separated him from her, roughing him up just a bit so that he'd run off. Keeping at least one person out of harm's way. You had no idea of the powerful ally you had just made.

When the arena was ready for you, it was safe to say that it was more than a bit overwhelming. The cheers deafened you, the bright white outside blinding your first steps out of the dark corridors. You had splayed your wings wide, trying to make yourself look bigger than you were. You kept your head high as your enemy entered the arena.

When scorpion's form stalked into the arena, your stomach had dropped. He was confident. He knew he was going to win. You hoped you didn't look as afraid as you were. He was a renowned powerhouse. Strength, agility, he had it all. You were at a disadvantage, the huge wings that sprouted from your back becoming a curse. It was nothing you couldn't handle however, you had been in tighter spaces than this.

Hadn't you?

The fight started quickly. You weaved out of his range and dodged his attacks. It was wearing you down. After narrowly missing a particularly nasty kick, you knew you couldn't keep this up for forever. Lifting yourself into the air to try and get an upper hand was easy. You circled the arena around him, preparing to swoop down on him from a nose-dive when-

"GET OVER HERE!" The blade pierced though your right wing, through the muscle and into the bone. A scream of pain ripped through your throat as you were yanked back onto the ground.

A string of explicit words left your mouth as the blade was yanked out. You got your feet just in time for Scorpion to charge at you again. You couldn't dodge this time. He managed to land a punch, but when you blocked the second you had a horrific realization that you were too close to him. There was no chance to evade the attacks easily now, he could just yank you back to where you were. You blocked his blows as best you could, landing a few hits of your own, when he reached a hand out and grabbed your wing.

The excruciating pain had burned itself into your memory. His hand lit up in flames in a split second, charring your wings. You cried out in pain, trying to push him off of you, but he remained unmoveable. Your wing caught fire, and the flames tickled and singed the feathers of the other one.

The pain was all you could think about as your lifeline burned and faded, and you hardly noticed when his blade ripped through your throat. He dropped you to the floor, the fire starting to burn out all the while you gasped and gurgled for air.

It went black quicker than you expected. You had died. What a pitiful ending. Slaughtered in the arena, killed while fighting a pathetic fight. All your years of training, and still you weren't good enough.

The first breath that came back to you felt awful.

The room was quiet. Muffled cheers and screaming was heard from outside the dark brick walls. You brought a hand up to your throat, wincing from the pain that erupted from the charred wing as you stretched. The wound was closed. It was healed. Small, delicate hands steadied you as you sat up. Kind brown eyes watched you with concern. It was the servant girl from earlier. You tried to speak, but let out a horrendous series of coughs. You took a deep breath when they finally stopped.

"I… I thought I was… What happened?" She gave you a tight-lipped smile, showing you her blood covered hands. Runes were carved into her skin. The child had revived you with a magic you couldn't recognize. Your intreage turned to concern as you reached out for her. Holding her hands gently.

You never learned how she knew such powerful magic, and you didn't press her about it. In fact, she never spoke. The servant girl beckoned you to follow her, and led you through tunnels underneath the raging battlefield. Twist after turn, corridor after another, she stopped at a small, empty room.

Three, dead end entryways sat in the circular surroundings. The small girl sat down, giving you a smile, before plucking a sharp, glass dip pen out of her pockets. Out of all the horrors you had seen, your stomach churned and wanted to revolt at the sight of the kind girl cutting along her hands.

Stroke after stroke, she created runes on the backs of her hands, connected them to the ones on her palms and intertwined their meanings. When she had finished, she pocketed the pen again. You went to call out to her, to ask if she was alright, but the words died in your throat as she slammed her hands onto the floor.

With a bright flash, blood ran from her hands, trailing across the floor in dripping, intricate lines. The streams of blood ran straight up the corners of the doorways, lining all three. She sighed deeply and the center doorway lit up.

It was a portal. To home. To earthrealm.

It was beautiful. The chance to leave it all behind. To go home. To rest and recover and… and live.

You couldn't leave her like this. Not without a thank you. Not without something of worth. The girl looks up at you as you move to stand in front of her, hands glued to the floor. She smiles, and in a raspy, broken, almost intelligible string of noises, she speaks.

"F… feather…?" You teared up at the sorry sound of the sweet girl's voice. And knelt down to her, careful of the lines of blood. With a wince, you plucked a feather from your one, good wing, one the size of her forearm. You gently set it in her lap, but she shook her head.

You understood what she meant. With a shaky breath, you finally look over at your charred, destroyed wing. The pain was easy to ignore as long as you avoided the sight. But know there was no ignorance, no pretending it never happened. Your bad wing twitched in a motion that had you crying out in pain, but amongst the remaining, once soft down that fell, a single, black, ashy, sooty, burnt feather fell to your knees. You gingerly pick it up, and give her a skeptical look before setting it in her lap with the other. She smiles again, softly. And bows her head to you.

You turned to look back at her after you stepped through the portal. She finally stands, and bows to you again as the portal closes.

You never saw her again. In fact, you never saw Outworld again. But even though you didn't believe that a feather offering would ever be enough to thank her, you did not forsake her gift to you. It took years for your wing to heal, for the feathers to grow back. A patch of scarred skin still remained where Scorpion's hand had touched you, but with the addition of many different salves and medicines gifted to you by kind strangers, the fluffy, beautiful feathers returned to you. Flight, However. Was harder to take back.

You read almost every book you could find- created every exercise, every lesson you would need. But the burns left behind nerve damage along with the scars. It hurt to move the places that weren't numb. But you couldn't lose this. You couldn't lose your flight. It was the one thing you would refuse to give up. Eventually, and you did mean eventually, you had it back. You were a little wobbly, sure, but once you got up there… once you got in the sky, floating along the wind currents, relaxing in the cool air… It was almost like you have never lost the ability in the first place.

You never fought again. Nor did Raiden ever ask you too. You imagined he still believed that you were dead, but it was none of your concern anymore. You left that life behind. It took years to heal both emotionally and physically from what happened, and in the meantime you realized that the life you had before… it really wasn't for you. You didn't want that pain again. Didn't want the chance to have everything taken from you again.

You sighed, flipping onto your back to glide along with the wind, wingspan on full display. You had taken up traveling after you had learned to fly again. Hopping country to country, island to island, exploring the beauty of your own realm. But all this traveling had started to wear away at you. You longed for home. For your old friends. For family. But you refused to settle back down, traveling despite your homesickness. You'd find a place eventually, but only once you had seen the world. You didn't want to die a second time without experiencing all the lands had to offer.

This time, you didn't actually know where you were traveling to. You had just been cruising along the wind current, relaxing in the sky. The lands below were lush and beautiful, the sky a cloudy grey. A nice, cloudy day had always been your favorite to fly in. Days like these being a kind reminder of the days you were young, and energetic, and still learning the sky. You close your eyes, breathing in the fresh air, the tenseness in your back completely disappearing as you glide. For a moment, all you felt was peace.

Your heart rate spiked as a scream sounded off in the distance. Your wings faltered, and you bobbed in the air. Regaining your steady glide after a moment. You frantically searched the ground, shaky hands flexing into fists. You spotted a Cliffside, eyes immediately focusing in on the small form hanging onto the edge.

It became harder to focus. You started to panic at the sight of a small boy holding on for dear life. One of his hands slipped away, and you flinched, almost dropping into a dive by reflex, but you had to stop and think as his final hand remained.

You debated with yourself on if you could carry him, or if trying would kill you both. He would die from that kind of fall. You could die from that kind of fall. Could your bad wing take it? You didn't know, but you were running out of time. You dropped into a nosedive as his strength gave out.

The adrenaline almost put you into autopilot, the wind against your face becoming your only sensation. You hadn't gone this speed in years. The base of your bad wing started to tingle at the thought, reminding you of just how numb the rest of it was.

Stop. Calm down. You can do this.

Your panic cooled into a still determination as you grew closer. The boy faced up towards you, eyes wide and panicked and scared. You fought the wind with your arms, finally looping around his waist.

You caught the little boy just 20 feet from the ground. He clung onto your shirt tightly as you started to slow, wings struggling to lift you up after how fast you were falling, after a few, difficult, sore, flaps of your powerful wings, your weight slowly carried you into the gravelly ground below the cliff in a heavy thump. Your knees buckled at the landing, and you cradled the boy underneath you as you collapsed onto your elbows, panting for breath. Your wings surrounded the two of you like a limp cage.

Your bad wing twitched as you struggled to relax it again, and the soreness started to set in. Shit. You really should've practiced that dive in your self-taught physical therapy. Then again, you never thought you'd have to do that ever again.

"Are you ok?" A little voice asked. You opened your eyes to peer at the scared, worried face underneath you. You tried your best to muster a tired, pained smile, and sat up, letting him go. He didn't move far, crouching beside you. You realized that he couldn't have been much older than a six year old.

"I'm fine. I just need a moment…" You mumbled. "Where are your parents, kiddo?" He frowned for a moment, sitting down beside you with his knees underneath him.

"My grandmaster is somewhere in the forest, " He gestured towards the lush greenery of the field around him. "-but I think I might have to search for him." He said, glancing up at the cliff. You nodded in response. Grandmaster huh? You analyzed his clothes. A ninja in training maybe, you didn't know how you hadn't seen it before.

"Don't worry. I'll help you." You smiled up at him while splaying and retracting the bad wing back and forth. After a tense moment, you collected yourself. Making sure that your bag was still secure on you after the fall, and standing. The bad wing drooping limply while the other folded behind you. The boy stood with you, gazing at your wings with wide eyes. You chuckled at his curiosity, holding out a hand for him to take. He stared at it for a moment, and then back up at you.

"Well? Let's go find him." You nudged your hand forward again, and he smiled, taking your hand. You smiled back at him, trying hard not to grimace at the painful soreness of your wing.

Glancing around, you managed to pick out landmarks you had noticed while flying. Creating a path in your mind of how you could make it back up to that shady, tree covered cliff, you tugged the boys hand lightly. He quietly followed beside you as you walked.

You wandered away from the gravely clearing and into the forest around. Helping the child pick his way through the bushes. The short journey took only about twenty minutes. Mostly consisting of following the edges of the cliff until you could find a slope, and a path that he recognized.

He only let go of your hand when the two of you had to climb a steep side of the path. He quickly scaled it, turning towards you. You smiled up at him, stretching your wings to boost yourself up there out of reflex, but you stopped. Wincing at the soreness once again. The boy looked at you quizzically, and you shook your head at him. You slowly climbed the slope, and continued on. Soon enough, you were moving through the flat patch of shady, woody, land just before the Cliffside clearing. The boy took your hand again.

"Thank you." He said softly. You smiled at him again, squeezing his hand, but not speaking. "...I'm Takeda." You were taken aback for a second, and determined whether or nor you should be giving the child your name. It couldn't hurt, could it? Your voice cut clear through the silent woods as you spoke.

"My name is..."

You started to trail off as a man silently emerged from the brush on Takeda's side, knives at the ready for just a moment. His eyes locked with yours, and then widened. Shocked at the sight of you, his defense faltered a bit, but still remained. You, on the other hand, bristled. Huge wings defensively folding around you and the boy.

You wished it was rage that invoked such a reaction, but it was fear. Your eyes stinged with watery tears that you desperately tried to keep under control.

"Takeda, get back." You commanded, pulling him closer to you by his hand. Takeda tried to speak, but you couldn't hear what he was saying. The awful flashes of memory, the smell, the pain, all of it was running through your mind. Your bad wing twitched and almost retracted back into your body, but you painfully forced it still, desperate to protect Takeda.

"I'm not here to fight you, and I'm certainly not here to hurt Takeda." Scorpion spoke, gaze soft. He hesitated for a moment, but sheathed his weapons. He held his hands out to show you that there were no tricks. Bullshit. You didn't back down, keeping an angry stare set squarely on him. You could see it in his eyes that he knew that you weren't convinced. Takeda quickly put himself between you two, and you almost reached out to yank him back.

"This is my grandmaster," He spoke in a loud voice. Your eyes widened, flickering back and forth between him and Scorpion. It didn't seem like he was lying, he didn't seem like the kind of kid who would lie- but a child being trained by the deadliest member of the Shirai Ryu? You looked squarely at Scorpion with suspicion, looking him up and down. Your defensive demeanor never let down for a moment. You scowled at him, but when Takeda came back over to you, and reached up for your hands again…

You gave Scorpion a warning look, and relaxed your wings. Feathers smoothing out and wings folding behind your back. You squeezed Takeda's hands gently.

"I thought you were dead?" Scorpion's voice was clear and unwavering, but the question portrayed more than his voice would give away.

"I wonder why." You spit the words like venom. Your bad wing twitched again, this time it felt a little more painful than the twitches normally did. You hissed as you held it still. Takeda frowned, looking like he was about to tear up himself. Scorpion's face fell in a guilty look. This supposed new persona of his had to be a trick. Takeda turned to face his grandmaster. Speaking a few quiet words to him in Japanese that you didn't understand. You were to focused on the pain in your wing to care anyway.

You gazed fondly at the little boy, and sighed. It was clear to see that he was indeed Scorpion's student. You were no longer needed. You inwardly scolded yourself for becoming so attached to the boy so quickly. Sure, you had been longing for a connection… for a family… but this, this was not the place, nor the time.

You looked around, the clearing and cliffside edge was close enough that you could see it through the trees. In an almost dejected manner, you started to make your way over to it. The cliff would provide a great spot to make returning to the sky much easier.

"Will you be able to fly?" Takeda's voice called out to you. You stop in your tracks, turning just slightly so that you could see him, and stretched your wings. You winced as you did, the movement bringing back the soreness and pain you had glimpsed while climbing the slope earlier. You pressed your lips together, only glancing at Takeda before looking back at the sky that shone between the leaves.

If you couldn't leave, where would you go? You certainly couldn't stay here. Not with that Man. Not with Scorpion.

"The Shirai Ryu will extend our kindness to you, if you will accept it." You side-eyed Scorpion as he spoke. Fully prepared to decline before you saw the worried look on Takeda's face. You fully turned towards the two, wings low behind you.

"What does that 'kindness' entail exactly?" Your voice came out just above a whisper, but the malice behind it remained. Scorpion's serious face was a contrast to his student's.

"I am offering you shelter at the fire gardens until you have re-gained your strength." You looked at the boy, and then back at the man who killed you, and then at the sky. Who should you trust? Takeda? Or your own broken body? If you took a fall-

You took a deep breath, bit your fear back, and approached Scorpion and Takeda.

#scorpion x reader #hanzo hasashi #scorpion #scorpion imagines #mk scorpion #mkx #mk imagine #mk x reader #mortal kombat x reader #enemies to lovers #if you are still reading the tags i applaud you #part 2 is coming soon i promise

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