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bimsha · 3 years

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How They Propose You

Sano Manjiro /Mikey:

When Mikey took you to a grand restaurant instead of your usual street filled with street food, you were suspicious. You knew something must be up, but with Mikey, you never realized until it was the last minute. But the whole thing was fancy for both of you. Your eyes kept darting around all the beautifully dressed customers and the elegant waiters taking orders and rushing around. When the dessert came, you had let go of all your initial suspicions. The dessert was so good that you cleared the plate in mere seconds ignoring the very existence of your boyfriend. You looked up at him to compliment him for the grand dinner when you noticed the horrified expression of the blonde.

“Y/n, you ate the whole thing?”

“Yeah?” You answered, frowning. What’s the big deal?

“Oh my god” He said, now looking petrified for some reason. That expression was a first. He got up from his seat and rounded the table to get a clear look at your plate. At this point, you were being embarrassed. He crouched next to you, looking worried. “Do you feel weird or sick? Do you want to throw up? Should we go to a hospital?”

You sighed, "Mikey." You leaned closer to his ear so that the high class people wouldn't hear your beautiful language. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Y/n” He whispered back, “There was a ring in the dessert. I asked the waiter to put it in there.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “What?” You blurted out. You could care less about manners now. “You fed me a ring? Wait, I didn’t even know? I didn’t feel any different?”

“I was trying to propose!” Mikey countered, looking awfully sad. “I didn’t know you’d eat the ring too”

They had drawn a lot of attention. “Well, if there was a ring I should’ve felt it. I didn’t. Maybe it wasn’t there?” After a beat of silence you added, “Right?” But a corner of your mind was telling you there's actually a chance. You were a sucker for all those chocolate desserts. But a ring? No way… right?

Now you both were looking at each other with hopeless expressions thinking maybe Mikey would’ve killed you in the process of propsing and the murmurs were growing loud around you when a waiter walked in. They stopped right by their table, “Sir, I’m here to apologize. Our chef has mistakenly and forgot to put the ring on your dessert” He handed a surprised Mikey the ring, bowing deeply.

“Oh my god” Mikey sighed in relief, “I didn’t kill my girlfriend trying to propose her”

You sighed in relief, “I didn’t eat that thing. Thank god” When you started laughing, finding the whole thing funny, Mikey actually knelt on one knee. The whole restaurant was silent as he asked,

“Y/n, the love of my life, do you want to marry me?”

“Say yes” One of the guys screamed, “He didn’t feed you the ring. That man is worth it”

You flushed but offered your hand with a matching smile, “This is the best proposal ever”

Mikey rolled his eyes. “There goes my romantic dinner and proposal. But A for trying.”

You couldn’t tell anything otherwise else, because he deserved an A for trying.

Kazutora Hanemiya:

It was a cold winter morning and your boyfriend Kazu asked you to come to the park for an emergency. And there you were, rubbing your hands together trying to get rid of the coldness while waiting for your boyfriend to give him a good ass kicking for leaving you in the snow. You waited for a while, and instead of Kazutora, a little boy around seven appeared from the entrance and ran straight towards you. Something glistened in his hands. Then, he frowned, looking at you from head to toe. That’s when you realize he was actually holding onto a ring. Where did he get that? “Miss, would you like to marry me?” The youngster asked with so much determination that you almost laughed.

You were about to answer, when a familiar figure ran up to them. Kazutora didn’t pay any attention that you were there. He launched at the boy, trying to get the ring in his hand. “You little prick, I told you not to touch that! And she’s my girlfriend, back off”

You stared at them as they wrestled in the snow. Kazutora caught the little guy in a headlock and fished the ring out of his hands. “Got it!” He cheered.

“Uh Kazu? What’s going on here?”

He looked at you with an exasperated sigh. “This brat ruined everything. I had something to ask you.” He looked flustered, “But he stole-” He groaned, “Go back home.” He said to the boy. “I swear I’m going to buy you that whatever the shit you like”

The boy looked uncertain for a moment. He reached out his pinky, “Promise?”

Kazutora sighed, and sent the boy off. He stood up and dusted off the snow from his pants. You waited patiently when he went, “That’s my little cousin. He thought it would be funny to propose you.”

You laughed, “And why is that?”

Kazutora shrugged, fidgeting with the ring and looking at you. “Because I may or may not have been staring at your photo and practicing everything” He averted his gaze, abashed. “I had this all planned out. I’m going to ruin that brat!”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I’m still here”

He looked at you earnestly and took a step close. “We’ve been through a lot together. I may not have been the best boyfriend to you but I really love you Y/N. I can’t imagine a life without you. Want to share your life with me for the rest of our lives?”

You offered your hand as a tear slipped down your cheek. “Of course” He slipped the ring to your finger with his own eyes sparkling with tears. You scowled.

“You’re not the one who’s supposed to cry!”

He grinned, leaning in and pecking your lips. “I’m just so happy you said yes” He said, picking you up and twirling you around. Both of you fell back to the snow, thinking about a lifetime of memories together.

Mitsuya Takashi:

You were casually sitting inside his work place, watching him designing another costume. Other times, you asked questions, but this time, you remained silent watching him work. There was a way Mitsuya worked when he was in here. He was graceful and confident. It was a sight to see. “Y/n” He called, taking your attention. “Can you come here for a sec?”

You frowned, but did as you were asked. When you reached him, he immediately started taking your measures, jotting down each. It was normal for him to make clothes for you but this was the first time he was doing it without asking about the design or showing you a picture. “What’s it?”

Mitsuya gestures at the mess of white cloth beside him. “An order came asking me to make a wedding dress, I took the measures for future use” He grinned, pulling out something from his pocket. You stared at the velvet box as he opened it. A ring glistening inside. “Y/n” His voice was smooth. He took a step closer.

You just watched him, surprised as he knelt on one knee. “I’ve always wanted a life with you. I’ve dreamed about it many times. Would you let my dreams come true and be my soulmate for the rest of my life?”

You said yes and watched as he slipped the gold band to your finger. “You literally took the measurement to my future wedding dress before asking? I’m gonna remember that Takashi?”

He stood up and pressed a kiss on your forehead. “Just had to set up the vibe.” He said, looking at the white cloth draped along the counter. “You’re going to look beautiful in a wedding dress. I should start working on it”

Baji Keisuke:

One thing you liked about Baji was that he said the weirdest shit sometimes. Like right now. Both of you had your own respected soda cans in your hands while he suddenly uttered, “You know, marrying is weird”

You huffed, “And that is because?”

“Like listen. Two people are like, okay we love each other. Let’s get the whole government involved and make it official so we can actually make babies and spend time together.” He scowled, taking a sip. “That’s just fucked up”

You hummed thoughtfully, “Now that you’ve said it, it does sound fucked up”

He put the soda can away and pulled out a silver band, looking at him with his serious look. “Should we get the government involved too?”

You looked at the ring, back at his face but decided to play along. “We should totally get the government involved in all our shit” When you offered your hand, he easily slipped the ring in. He reached down and kissed it, looking at you adoringly. “That was the most funniest, and the ridiculous proposal I have ever heard.”

Baji shrugged, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder. “That was the best proposal, I know you think so too”

“Ridiculous doesn’t mean I don’t like it. You’re right, that’s the best proposal”

Bonus:

The two of you decided to announce your engagement to the rest of the gang. Baji confidently stood in front of them, your hand in his, holding onto tightly when he announced. “We’re going to get the government involved”

You cracked up, looking at the other’s expressions, they had no clue what was going on. Chifuyu actually looked like he understood. “Congratulations!” The younger said, beaming. "When is the wedding?”

The realization dawned upon them and soon they were all gasping for their breaths, calling out for water and literally dying on the floor.

Chifuyu Matsuno:

When Chifuyu asked whether you wanted to hang out at his place, it didn’t strike you as anything odd. You two often hung out at each other’s places when your parents were away. He usually kept the door unlocked and you walked in. It was the same that Sunday morning but after you walked in you realized that actually it was pretty weird. Your boyfriend was there, kneeling in front of his refrigerator. Hold up, was that a ring? Is he proposing the fridge? He looked really serious as he took a long breath, opening the box as if he was in a movie. You watched quietly, the moment was too golden to interrupt. He picked the gold band carefully out of the box and held it in front of the fridge. “Y/n, you’re amazing. You’re the best person I have ever met in my life” He was saying to the fridge, “It’s a miracle I found you. Do you want to be mine? Marry me, please?”

The fridge didn’t answer. OF COURSE. The problem would be if it actually answered. He looked satisfied with the practice. That’s when you decided to break it to him and actually clear your throat. The poor guy jumped out of his skin and stared at you horrified. His gaze shifting between the fridge and you. “Are you cheating on me? With that thing?”

He flushed, his ears going pink. “Y/n! Did you- I mean when did-” He groaned, flopping to the floor like a kicked puppy. “Everything’s ruined”

“I’m sorry” You tried, trying to suppress your laughter. “Let’s try again. We go back in time.”

He looked at you to see whether you’re joking and solemnly nodded. “You should be in the character”

You nodded, and closed the door. And this time, you knocked on the door. Your heart was pumping with excitement. Despite the fact you were supposed to act like you don’t know what's going to happen, you were thrilled. Chifuyu opened the door. Despite his defeated look earlier, he seemed to have gained back some of his courage. He didn’t wait until he let you in. He just knelt right there, holding up the ring. He looked a little bit too excited to get the whole speech out as he just blurted, “Please marry me?”

You laughed, “Of course!” He slipped the ring into your finger and stood. Before you could comment, he connected your lips, kissing you right there, with your hands stopped in mid air in surprise. He pulled back with a cocky grin.

“I added an extra surprise element”

You scoffed, “Never going to get over the fact your proposal speech to the fridge was better”

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

You grinned, “Never! I’m going to tell our grandchildren that his grandfather proposed to a fridge. The story must go on!”

He groaned, “You’re just mean” He pulled you in, closing the door behind you. “But I love you.”

You hummed with a smile, “I love you too, you big dork”

I don't know why I did this but I did this so get it. I might do some more later. This is fun (":

#propose #tr #tokyo revengers #Mikey #Sano Manjiro #Bimsha writes #Drabbles #oneshot #mitsuya hcs #Kazutora #Baji #Chifuyu #Kinda Crack #x you #xy/n #drabbles

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nagito-kissmaeda · 3 years

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Stay For a While - Komaeda x Reader

Summary: You've been sitting across from this guy in the library every thursday for months now. You really should just tell him you love him and get it over with.

AKA: You spend the night at Nagito's house after your late lecture. and things get..........steamy

Word count: 8709 Contains: fem reader, no pronouns usage, explict sexual content Read on AO3

ミ☆ Please send me a DM or an ask if you’d like me to write something for you!

You have feelings for the guy who sits across from you in the library. There is a three hour gap between your afternoon lecture and your evening tute, but you live too far away to go home and rest, so you usually grab a quick dinner and then park yourself at the small desk by the window for an hour or two. He is always already there. It’s embarrassing how your heart does a little flip every time to round the bookshelf and see him pouring over assignments, secretly you worry that one day he won't be there anymore. You don’t know what you’ll do with yourself if that happens.

Today he has a book open next to him, he's jotting down quotes in a notepad. His pale hand is stained with black ink from his ballpoint pen, and you are mesmerised by the subtle movement in his knuckles. The setting sun is cascading in through the window, and it catches in his unruly white hair, making it glow orange. He has it up in a messy bun today, it’s really cute. Luckily he’s too engrossed in his work to notice you looking at him, you try to be subtle, you really do. Browsing your phone and only occasionally flitting your eyes up to look at him, you don't even know his name.

His brow furrows and he crosses out his last note, tapping the end of his pen against his lips. They’re very full lips. You swallow and avert your eyes, turning back to your phone and mindlessly scrolling through instagram. Friends have told you to just ask the guy out for coffee or something, but you didn't know how to even start broaching that subject, Hey guy. Wanna grab a drink? Maybe tell me your name sometime? You frown, your leg bouncing restlessly under the table. You’ve been sitting across from this guy for three months now, every thursday, the fact that you haven't even bothered trying to talk to him is just proof of your own incompetence-

“Hey.” A voice says. Soft and calm. You brain stutters when you realise it was him .

“Oh...uh…” you’re picking off the nail polish on your left hand, a bad nervous habit, “Hello…”

“I bought a soda from the vending machine this morning, but it dispensed five…” a can clinks down on the desk in front of you, you’re too busy staring at the way his long fingers grip the top of it, “do you want one?”

You don't really like Dr Hopper, but he doesn't need to know that, “Sure. Thank you.”

He gives you a polite smile and cracks his can open, taking a long sip. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, you have to actually tear your eyes away from him. Your knee is bouncing faster. The pull tab on the can is hard to navigate with your sweaty and shaky hands, but you manage to get it open.

“Shit…” you mutter, the soda fizzes over a little. Not enough to make a real mess, but it does get all over your thumb, you pull your thumb up to your mouth in an attempt to clean the soda off before it gets all sticky. As you do so, you sneak another look up at the guy. His eyes are glued to where your lips are meeting your skin. His cheeks are pink. There’s a rush of warmth from your heart down to your stomach, the deep orange sun is crossing his left collarbone, you want to trace it with your tongue.

“Sorry…” He breathes, giving you an uneasy smile, “It’s been jostling around in my bag for a few hours. That was probably my fault.”

“It’s really fine.”

He picks his pen up and goes back to working. You can see his notes pretty easily, without seeming like you’re peeking. His handwriting is messy, but still very legible. The ink stains on his hand are only getting worse as he goes on. When he shifts his feet below the table you can feel how close his legs are to yours, it's a big desk, but he has long legs. You wonder idly how much taller than you he is, he usually leaves before you do. You dont think you’ve ever both been standing at the same time. All of a sudden, the chill of the library gets to you. It was a decently warm day when the sun was out, but now that it is getting dark that’s starting to change. The blouse you are wearing is cute, but it’s also off the shoulder and you are beginning to feel cold. Your phone clunks loudly when you drop it on the desk, freeing your hands to rub some warmth into your arms, the sun is almost behind the horizon now, it’s going to be a cold walk home after class.

“Are you cold?”

You turn back from the window to see the guy looking at you, “huh?”

“I know you probably don’t want someone like me bothering you, but you…” He runs a hand through his hair, it makes it look even messier, “you look like you’re cold.”

“Oh, I mean. Yeah, I forgot how quickly it gets dark this time of year.” You laugh, “I didn't really dress for the weather.”

He tilts his head to the side, your heart is pounding, “You didn't bring a coat?” he asks

You shake your head slowly, unsure where this is going. Hoping it’s going in the direction you want it to.

Then, he stands up. Shaking his coat off his shoulders, revealing forearms so pale and thin you could wrap your whole hand around them. Your heartbeat is so loud you can hear it in your ears as he walks around the table to you. He is so close to you, he’s never been this close before.

“Here.” He says, passing the coat into your arms. It’s warm, “You can borrow this, if you don't mind wearing my gross clothes.”

It isn’t gross. It smells like chamomile soap and fresh laundry, “No I don't mind. Um, thank you.”

You slide out of your chair and stand up so you can put the coat on. He is at least a head taller than you, maybe more. You feel your knees wobble when you tilt your head up to meet his eyes, they are a lot greener up close. Any words that you might have said are frozen in your throat as you slip your arms through the coat, your fingers barely stick out past the cuffs.

“It’s a little big for you, but that’s to be expected.”

“No, it’s fine. I like it.”

“I hope i'm not overstepping any boundaries but...it looks good on you.”

You’re burning up, stomach twisting, “It... feels good on me.”

“Oh…” He mutters, quickly forcing a nervous laugh, “Well, i'm sure anything would look good on anyone as beautiful as you.”

Holy shit .

“Are you...flirting with me?” you whisper, burying your hands in the pockets of his coat and trying to make yourself seem smaller, “Or am I imagining it?”

He freezes, you can see his hands tensing up. You worry for a moment that you had been imagining it and that now you’ve made everything weird.

“ Was I flirting…?” He gives you a gentle smile, “Huh...I guess i was? Unless you didn't want me to, i don't want to presume-”

“No!” you say a little too loudly, shocking him into silence, “keep-uh...you can keep doing it.” His eyebrows jump up at that, but then settle back down into his calm expression, you are picking at your nail polish again, if only to give your nervous hands something to do, “Can i ask for your name? We’ve been sitting together for so long now and i’ve never asked…”

“Nagito” He breathes, and it fits him perfectly. A smile breaks out on your face before you can stop it. You give him your name in return and he repeats it back, like he is testing how it feels on his tongue, “Pretty name.” He says, you can hear that his breathing is shaky, “It suits you.”

Like he is trying to run away before his most recent compliment finally hits you, he walks back around to his side of the desk and starts grabbing his books. He crouches down on the ground and starts shoving them into his stachel, looking up at you from his spot on the floor, “I finish class at seven. Will you be around?”

“Ah, no. Sorry, I don't finish until nine.”

“Oh, your classes run really late.” He stands up and slings the bag over his shoulder.

“Do you want your coat back now?” You say, already moving to take it off. He strides over to you, and pulls it back over your shoulders, looking at you very seriously.

“I’m not letting you walk home in the cold without it.” his hands feel warm and firm on your shoulders, you never want him to pull away, “I can walk you home, you can give it back when you get inside.”

Your heart flutters at his suggestion. Imagining walking with him in the dark, your fingers brushing against his knuckles....you’re burning up again, “I live outside the city so i have to catch the train, but you can walk me to the station if you want? I mean, if you’re happy to wait until nine.”

He smiles, and your heart curls at the edges. You feel all buttery and warm inside.

“I’ll be right here.”

~*~*~

He is still there. You’d been worrying for the past few hours that he would be gone when you came back, that he would have changed his mind. A few people noticed the coat, and that it clearly wasn't yours. Sonia, the intimidatingly beautiful exchange student who usually sits next to you, was tittering politely behind a hand when she noticed it. When you asked what was so funny, she turned serious and told you it was nothing, but you could see a playfulness in her eyes. You wonder if she also noticed how much your leg was bouncing and that you wouldn't stop looking at the clock.

“Hello.” He says with a smile as you round the bookshelf, his already sleepy eyes even softer than usual. He’s playing something on a nintendo switch, it sounds like Animal Crossing, you recognise the 9pm music.

You smile back, “Hey. You good to go?”

“Oh yes!” He says enthusiastically, slotting the switch into a fabric case and zipping it up. He stands up and slings his bag over his shoulder, “Which station do you leave from?”

You start heading out of the library and he falls into step beside you, his arm almost brushing against yours. You shove your hands in the pocket of his coat to keep yourself from doing anything rash, “Central Station. It’s fifteen minutes away.”

“At least it isn’t too far. You won’t have to put up with me for too long.” He punctuates the end of the sentence with a laugh. The in person version of adding ‘lol’ to the end of a text to soften it.

The glass doors whoosh open as you step outside, you look up at him, “why do you keep doing that?” You ask. The city is slick with the aftermath of recent rain, the lights reflecting off the puddles on the sidewalk. It’s a cold, but admittedly beautiful night.

“Doing what?”

“Talking about yourself like that.” You stop at a crosswalk to wait for the lights, “Like you’re trying to convince me to make you leave.”

He laughs again, it’s less convincing this time, “Don’t misunderstand! I’m not trying to make you do anything, I just don’t want you thinking you have to spend any time with me if you don’t want to.”

“If I didn’t want to spend time with you. I wouldn’t.” The light at the crossing turns green, and you start heading further down the street. Nagito is following beside you. You thought it was pretty obvious that you are interested in him, in every sense of the word, but he either seems to have not noticed, or not believed it, “are you enjoying Animal Crossing?”

“I am!” He says, beaming widely, “I just finished catching the last fish today, now I'm breeding flowers.”

“Oh wow, you have all the fish already? You must be really lucky.”

He laughs, playing nervously with a strand of hair that didn't get caught up in his bun, “I guess??”

“I’ve been working on a kitchen, but I still don't have any of the damn ironwood set. I haven't found a fridge either.” You huff and notice that your breath appears white and wispy before you. It’s even colder than you thought it would be, “I just have a bunch of appliances all over the floor for now.”

“I think my housemate might have a fridge.” Nagito says, tapping his lips with a finger as he tries to remember, “No ironwood though. If I get him to mail me a fridge I can pass it onto you.” His mouth pulls into a nervous smile, and you notice him picking at a loose string at the hem of his shirt, “I mean, if you’re happy to give me your friend code.”

“No, uh...that sounds good. I can give you my code when we get to the station if my switch isn't dead yet.” You take a left down a back alley, it isn't as well lit as the main road, but it is a lot quicker to cut through than it is to go around. During the day there are a few small cafes open, with big umbrellas and tables out front. At night it is much less cheery.

Nagito is looking around uncomfortably, the moon is high in the sky and down the alley it is the only light source. His hair shimmers in the moonlight, your heart is pounding again, “Do you come down here every night?” He tucks a hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his phone, flicking on the flashlight.

The light only manages to make the walls of the alleyway seem even taller, “Yeah. I only have a late class on Thursday’s though. It isn't usually this dark.”

He gives you a concerned look, “It probably isn't safe.”

You shrug, “It’s another ten minutes if I go around. Plus, nothing has ever happened. I'm sure it’s fine.”

He turns away from you, looking straight ahead. His face turns deathly serious and you’re worried you’ve said something wrong, “Yeah, well. Luck runs out eventually.”

You aren't sure what to say. It sounded like he was talking from experience. His footsteps are quiet beside you, and his spine is curled like he is trying to make himself small and unobtrusive. Difficult, considering his height. As you come to the end of the alleyway he switches off his flashlight and tucks it back into his pocket, you notice that his black jeans are tight and you feel something swell in the pit of your stomach. He is very attractive.

“It’s just up this street, yeah?” He asks, you notice that he’s started rubbing his arms, “It’s kinda chilly.”

It suddenly hits you that he must be freezing without the coat he leant to you. You feel like an asshole, “Oh my god. I'm so sorry, you must be so cold!” you start talking the coat off, ready to give it back to him. He stops you.

“If one of us has to be cold, please let it be me.” His hand is on your shoulder again, you’re trying to store how it feels away in your memory. You don't want to forget.

“I don't want you to get sick.”

He laughs and waves your concern away with a hand, “No need to worry about me. It’s mostly just my arms and hands that are cold anyway, I'll be alright.”

You have a thought. There isn't much you can do about his cold arms, but his cold hands? That was possible. If only you work up the courage. As the two of you continue walking down the street, you move yourself close to him, a tiny bit closer, so tiny he probably doesn't even notice. He is still looking on ahead, but you are focussed entirely on the closeness of your hands. Focussed on reaching out just your pinky, slowly, carefully. Your heart is racing and your cheeks are burning. (this is so highschool of you, how old are you 12?) It doesn't matter, you’re going to do it, going to curl just the one finger around his and then maybe-

“Hey, we’re here!”

Your back snaps ramrod straight, and your hand whips back up against your leg so hard it almost hurts. He’s right, you’re at the station. You’d been so intent on holding his damn hand that you didn't realise how close the station was. This is embarrassing.

“Are you okay?” He asks, looking down at you with genuine concern, ‘Your face is all pink, you're not cold are you?”

“No, i’m uh-” He's staring at you, it’s making you nervous, “-I’m fine. Let me just check when the next train is, then you can go home if you want.”

He smiles politely, “Okay. I’ll wait here.”

The announcement board is lit up in the darkness right above the entrance to the station, you have to get a little closer to be able to read the train times. Nagito gives you a little wave when you turn back to look at him, and you sigh. You had been hoping to make it a little clearer how you felt about him, but it looks like you’re still a coward.

“God damn it…” you mutter as you look up at the board. Nagito must have heard you, because he comes bounding over with clear distress in his eyes. His hair is bouncy, it’s adorable.

“Are you okay?” He looks around frantically, “Did you lose something?”

You laugh, trying to ease his concerns, “Nah. We just missed my train, the next one isn't for half an hour. I probably won't be home until after midnight at this rate.”

“Hm. That’s really late.”

“Yeah, i live at the end of the Metro. Two hours.”

He’s playing with the hem of his shirt again, practically shaking with nerves when he finally says, “You could...come back to my place.

You don't have any words. They’re all caught in the back of your throat.

He panics, “Only if you want to! I would understand completely if you don't want to sleep in the same apartment as trash like me!”

Your innocent thoughts about brushing knuckles and shy glances begin morphing into something much less PG.

“Are you sure? I don't want to inconvenience you.”

“Inconvenience? Me?!” His cheeks turn a little pink, “You couldn't possibly inconvenience me .”

You shrug a shoulder, trying to ignore the incessant buzzing of excitement under your skin, “Lead the way, then.” ~*~*~

His apartment is nice. He dropped his key five times before he was able to get the door open, but when he finally did you were pleasantly surprised. You’ve been in some awful bachelor pads before, but this is nothing like that. There’s a plush brown couch in the center of the room with a colourful throw tossed over it, a modestly sized tv and a collection of mismatched mugs spread out on the low coffee table. A salt lamp in the corner of the room casts a pale orange light across the space, dancing on the shiny leaves of all the pot plants strewn about the room.

“Sorry for the mess…” Nagito says, slipping past you and hanging his bag up on a hook on the wall. He pulls his switch out of the bag and docks it by the tv, “Hajime drinks a lot of coffee.”

“It’s not even messy.” You take notice of just how many bookshelves are lining the walls and smile, “It’s nice in here.”

Nagito is in the middle of picking up all the wayward mugs around the room, but he still manages to turn and flash you a smile, “It’s nice of you to say so. I’m going to tidy up a little, feel free to sit down.”

“Oh, you really don't need to clean up for me. It’s fine.” You say, dropping your backpack on the ground by the door and heading over to the couch. It’s very comfy, but you still find yourself sitting stiffly, nervous about seeming too comfortable, “Is Hajime your housemate?” you ask, eyeing a photo on one of the bookshelves. Nagito is smiling brilliantly and chucking a peace sign up to the camera, there’s another guy beside him giving an uncomfortable thumbs up, but a very genuine smile.

“Yes!” Nagito calls back from the kitchen, you can hear the water running and assume he’s washing the mugs, “He’s at his girlfriend’s house tonight and he won't be back until tomorrow afternoon. You probably won't see him.”

You swallow. Not only are you going to be in the apartment with him all night, you’re also going to be alone . Your leg is bouncing again, you can't help it, “Um, where will i be sleeping?”

Nagito comes out of the kitchen, drying his hands with a tea towel before tossing it into what you assume is a laundry basket, “The couch folds out. We don't have to…uh” he laughs nervously, “We don’t have to share a bed, if that’s what you were worrying about.”

Worrying is not the word you would use.

“Oh! Do you have anything to sleep in?”

“Ah, i hadn't thought about that.” You wince a little, remembering the last time you had to sleep with your jeans on, “I’ll be okay though, dont worry about it.”

“I can at least see if Chiaki left something behind last time she was here. I don't want you to be uncomfortable.” He starts heading over to one of the two doors in the wall behind the couch, “Oh, I've turned the heating on by the way. If the coat is too warm you can just leave it on my bed.” He points to the other door, “just in there.”

“I might do that, thank you.” You stand up and shuck the coat, folding it over your arm, “It was getting a little toasty.”

He smiles warmly and heads into what you assume is Hajime’s room. Leaving you alone with the notion that he has just invited you into his bedroom. Your heart is racing. It’s literally just a room with a bed in it, you don't know why you are getting so worked up about this. The nailpolish on your fingers is practically all gone with all the nervous picking you've been doing today.

You force yourself to round the couch and head over to the door, trying not to notice the way your knees are wobbling. You suck in a breath, reach for the doorknob and even though the moment feels immense, you are comforted when you realise that his room is very normal.

There's a soft green rug on the floor, and the bed is made in a haphazard way that suggests he didn't want to leave it messy, but couldn't be bothered doing it properly either. His wardrobe is slightly ajar and you can see a row of boots lined up below a collection of sweaters and coats. It’s cosy, it suits him. The sound of your heartbeat is loud in your ears as you step over to the bed and drop the folded coat on the end of it. It smells like him in here, like camomile and sunday evenings. Your hands are sweating.

You notice a collection of polaroid photos strung up above his desk. At this point you’re probably being a little too nosy, but your feet are already walking over to the desk before you can stop yourself. There’s a textbook on the desk and a notepad filled with quotes and page numbers, he’s drawn a couple of flowers in the margins, you smile. A post-it shaped like a four leaf clover catches your eye, the handwriting is different from Nagito’s.

Don’t forget to drink water, dumbass.

A laugh bubbles up out of your chest, you assume that was a reminder from Hajime. There are plenty more pictures of him and Nagito amongst the polaroids, a number of them taken at some sort of beach getaway. Nagito has his eyes closed in a wide smile, his cheeks turning red from the sun as he wraps one arm around the shoulders of a short girl engrossed in her PSP. You assume that she is Hajime’s girlfriend, based on a different photo of the two of them kissing while Nagito throws up a peace sign in the foreground. They seem like very good friends, you’re happy for him.

“Are you done sightseeing?”

You whirl around to see Nagito standing in the open doorway with a bundle of cloth in his hands. His tone is teasing, but his lips are curled up in a smile. You feel yourself blushing, “ah, sorry. I shouldn't have-”

He laughs pleasantly, stepping into the room proper, “No, it's fine! I don't mind at all, sorry my room isn't very exciting.”

“It’s cozy.” You say, wringing your hands together, “I like it...it suits you.”

Nagito turns red now, all the way up to his ears and down to his collarbones. He clears his throat, “I found some sleep shorts and a shirt that I don't think Chiaki will mind you borrowing. I'll just have to wash them tomorrow.”

He passes the bundle of clothing over to you. When you unfold the shirt you snicker at the phrase ‘gamers don't die. We respawn’ that is printed in bold across the front of it, “Chiaki is a gamer, I take it?”

Nagito chuckles pleasantly, “The best one I know. Smash nights with her are something to behold.”

“Well…” you start, trying your best to seem like you aren't thinking about kissing him, “Thanks for the clothes...should I change in the bathroom, or?”

He dismisses you with a wave of his hand, eyes closing in a wide smile, “No, it's okay. You can get changed in here, I'll sit on the couch. Don't worry about it.”

Your heart is pounding. He's so handsome and so nice, your mind is racing with the thought that if you don't finally tell him how you feel now, you probably never will. Your fingers dig tight into the shirt you're holding as you try to find a way to ground yourself. You take a deep breath, “Nagito…?”

“Hm?”

Your stomach is churning, your hands feel clammy. You think and think but you just can't find the right words, to tell him how you feel, to tell him what you want . In the end, you decide that maybe words aren't the best course of action, and pull your shirt up over your head.

The room goes so silent that the sound of your blouse hitting the carpet sounds like a thunderclap. Your chest is heaving with the gravity of what you've just done. Why the fuck did you do that??? This was a terrible, awful, bad idea. You almost go scrambling to shove Chiaki’s shirt on and pretend this never happened.

But Nagito’s face stops you in your tracks. He’s staring at you, shaking visibly. His big green eyes keep flitting between your face and your torso. He heaves a wavering breath and whispers, “Tell me not to kiss you. Stop me, please .”

You feel elated, “I don't want to stop you.”

He swallows, nails biting into the palms of his hands, “I cant...I shouldn't...you’re too good for-”

You take a step towards him and cup his cheek in your palm. Whatever words he was going to say die in his throat.

“How long have you wanted me, Nagito?” You trace your thumb over his lower lip, his erratic breathing is so loud you can hear it, “I’ve wanted you for months .”

He nods loosely, squeezing his eyes shut, “Me too. Me too.”

his skin is soft under your palm, your move your hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. His eyes open at your touch and he is beautiful . You smile, gently running your fingers in his soft hair before whispering, “Then what are you waiting for?”

He sucks in a breath, and his hand shakes as he brings it up to your cheek. The skin of his palm is dry and warm, you can’t help leaning into it. His second hand slowly slips around to the small of your back, you can feel him trembling.

“God you’re…” you can feel his breath on your face, he is so close to you now, “you’re so beautiful…”

You smile, “so are you.”

He gasps, eyes widening as he looks down at you. Then, his thumb gently runs along the length of your cheekbone, and he leans in to press his lips to yours.

He is perfect

His lips are soft and cool, his palm on your back presses you firmly up against him as you slowly curl your arms around the back of his neck. You whine gently into his mouth, kissing him only more incessantly, desperately. Months of yearning and desire is escaping in this one kiss and one of your hands tangles it’s fingers in the hair on the back of his head. It’s as soft as you dreamed it would be. He is how you dreamed he would be.

Nagito pulls away from you, green eyes blown wide and breath heaving. The hand on your lower back is shaking, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long…” his throat bobs, “I can’t...I can’t believe you let me kiss you.”

“Why not?” You breathe, letting one of your hands slip down his torso, toying with the hem of his shirt.

His breathing grows shaky, “b-because I don’t deserve you. Someone like you desiring someone like me it’s just- hah! ”

Your fingers have crept up under his shirt, tracing light circles on his hip bone. You hadn’t expected it to stun him into silence like this, you lean in a press a soft kiss to his neck, “is this okay?”

“H-huh?”

You laugh gently against his skin, “are you okay with me touching you like this?”

“Y-yes! I just don’t understand why? ”

“Because I have feelings for you, Nagito” you feel your cheeks burning, “I’ve uh- been trying to gather the confidence to tell you that all night. I sort of assumed it was pretty obvious with the kissing and-“

You're cut off when he tugs you against him, wrapping both arms around your waist and burying his head in the crook of your neck. you gasp at the feeling of his thin arms tight around you, and he quickly pulls back at the sound.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No! Um, I liked it! You just surprised me.”

He laughs, a giggle that sounds like disbelief, “I surprised you? You took your shirt off…”

You’re burning up. Suddenly remembering your state of undress and crossing your arms over your chest, “Ah. Yes. That was stupid of me. I just...panicked?”

His brow furrows, “panicked?”

“Yeah I- I dunno, I was worried that if I didn’t make a move now I’d never have a chance to do…” you swallow, looking up at him nervously, “do whatever it is we’re going to do.”

You hear him take a shaky breath, his eyes open wide, “You want to...keep going?”

“...Yes” you whisper

“With...me?”

“Yes.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath, “I want to go as far as you will let me.”

He’s laughing again, hand cupping over his mouth as he stares at you in shock, “O-Okay...if you’re sure you want to. Then I-“ his voice drops an octave, you aren’t sure if it was intentional, but you feel it in your stomach, “I want to as well.”

“Do you want to sit on the bed?” You ask, trying to contain your nerves.

“Ah, yes. Of course!” He’s shaking when he steps around you and sinks down onto his bed. You can see his knees bouncing a little, he’s as overwhelmed as you are, “Are you going to sit down too- ah~”

You do sit down. On his lap. Gently straddling him and looping your arms around the back of his head, “Is this okay?”

He shifts underneath you a little, and his hands shakily come to rest on the dip of your waist, “I’m probably not very comfortable.”

You laugh and press a kiss to his temple, “You’re plenty comfortable. Best seat in the house.”

His eyes meet yours. Dilated. Blinking slowly as he examines the contours of your face. You can feel his breath on your lips, you can’t believe that you’re this close to him. You’re the luckiest person in the world. When your lips press together again, his fingers dig tighter into your waist and your toes curl. He gasps against your mouth when you swipe at the seam of his lips with your tongue, moaning deep in the back of his throat as his tongue tangles with yours. There’s a warmth steadily growing between your thighs, your legs tighten around Nagito’s and your fingers dig into his soft white hair, pulling him closer to you. Then you shift in his lap, and feel a hardness growing in his jeans. Nagito gasps and pulls his lips from yours.

“I--I’m sorry...I just…”

“Nagito.” You whisper, letting one of your hands trail down his chest, “I told you. I want to go as far as you will let me.” Your hand comes in contact with his cock, rubbing him encouragingly through his jeans, “Is this still okay?”

He whimpers, hips stuttering up into your hand, “Ah! Are you sure you want to?”

“Very.” You shuffle backwards, slipping down off the bed and onto your knees between his legs. Your hands are resting on his waistband, just waiting for his permission, “Can i take your pants off?”

Nagito nods nervously, but lifts up his hips to help you tug his jeans down over his thighs. You get them down to his knees before you stop, toying with the hemline of his boxers, “Can these come off too?”

“Ah...If you want?” His voice is shaky, but he doesn't seem reluctant when you grab the elastic waistband and start tugging them down. You are trying to keep your cool, to seem like you have done this many times more than you actually have, but when his erect cock pops out and slaps backwards onto his stomach. You can feel your eyes grow wider, and have to physically bite down on your lip to hold in a gasp. Nagito is looking down at you nervously as you pull his jeans and boxers over his feet and drop them onto the floor. He sits up on his elbows and you can see his throat bob, “Are you sure you still want this? I...ah...I know i'm not much to look at.”

“I’ll have to respectfully disagree…” you whisper, eyes trailing up the length of his pale legs, lingering on the jut of his hips where they disappear up under his shirt. His breathing is heavy, cheeks turned pink and hair in disarray from your tangling fingers, “you’re gorgeous.”

“Aha...You are too kind…” Nagito breathes, avoiding your eyes.

You swallow, hands coming up to rub encouraging circles on his bare thighs, “I want to use my mouth.” You cock your head to the side, “would that be alright?”

Nagito makes a shocked noise in the back of his throat. Eyes wide in disbelief, even as his cock twitches at your words, “I’m not sure it’s a good idea...I...I would not be worthy of such a thing…”

“Is that a no because you think i don't want to?” you ask gently, pressing a kiss to one of his bony knees, “or is it a no because you don't want me to? Those are two very different things.”

He looks at you, almost incredulous, “Well of course I want you to! But I don't want you to ruin your- ack!~”

You grip tight on his jutting hip bones and sink your mouth down on his cock, as far as you can take it. Nagito moans loud , his legs tensing under your arms as you start lathing the underside of his head with your tongue and slowly pulling your lips up and down the length of him. He feels hot and smooth in your mouth and a gasp escapes you when his hips stutter in deeper, the head of his cock kissing the back of your throat.

“I...I’m sorry…” he whimpers, breathless and panicked, “Did i choke you? I’m a pathetic excuse for a human being…”

He is apparently too lost in his own head, to notice how thoroughly you are enjoying yourself. Moaning wontanly as you bob your head up and down, thighs rubbing together with every little noise you hear escaping his throat. He makes such pretty sounds, you want desperately to hear more of them.

“You...Your mouth...it’s so warm” Nagtio hisses through clenched teeth. You can feel the muscles working in his thighs as he tries to hold back the urge to chase the heat of your mouth. His legs are quivering , “I cant believe that you would let me-- ahhhh! ” his fingers curl tight into the sheets, chest heaving as you slowly insert a finger inside of him.

“Was that okay?” you ask, stilling your finger, worried that you’ve hurt him, “Do you need me to stop?”

Nagito whines and shakes his head, hips bucking forward into your hand like he’s trying to force your finger deeper, “M--more... please .”

You laugh a little, gently lapping at the head of his cock while pushing your finger deeper. Nagito wriggles and moans when you get it the whole way in, slowly pumping it in and out. You moan against his cock when you feel him tighten around you, “Can you take another?”

“Yes... yes… ” he pants, breath coming hot and heavy as he quivers beneath you, “I want it...want you ”

It’s getting harder to focus. Hearing his noises, feeling him moving and keening under your touch. You’re soaking wet, craving any sort of friction, but still determined to give Nagito the night of his life. You rub your thighs together, and slip a second finger into him.

The noise he makes is indescribable. The whole neighborhood probably heard it, and all you can think about is how lucky they all are, because it is the most beautiful noise you’ve ever heard.

“I could listen to you forever…” you breathe, pistoning your fingers in and out of him while pumping his cock with your other hand, “Do you want another finger?”

He whines aloud at the thought of it, but still shakes his head, “I don’t... ahh! I don't want to cum…” he hisses a breath in through his teeth, “until you do.”

You can feel your cheeks burning. Embarrassed as his insinuation like you don't currently have your fingers three knuckles deep in his ass, “What do you want to do then…?”

“I...I want to taste you” Nagito purrs, leaning up on his elbows, peering down at you, “Would you indulge me?”

“Oh...sure…” you whisper, slipping your fingers out of him and shimmying out of your pants. Nagito audibly gasps as the sight of your bare legs, and you feel yourself getting a little bit egotistic. No matter what concerns you may have with your body, it’s hard to remember them when he looks at you like that . Just as you are climbing onto the bed, you let out a gasp when Nagito grabs your thighs and tugs you up onto his chest, “Nagito...what-”

“Sit on my face, please. ”

You swallow. Cheeks heating up at the despartation in his voice, “Okay…” you breathe, shuffling up until your knees are resting firmly on the mattress above his shoulders. Your thighs are shaking, “Sorry. I’m kind of embarrassed…”

Nagito chuckles beneath you, peering up at your face through his pale eyelashes, “there’s no need to be embarrassed.” he whispers, hands curling around your thighs, “It’s just me. I want to pleasure you like you did for me. Is that okay?”

Your sex throbs at his words, and you have to sink your teeth into your lip to hold in a moan. He’s smiling at you, you can feel his cool breath on your bare cunt and as you slowly lower yourself to meet his mouth, you feel his fingers tighten against your flesh. He moans unabashedly as he drags his tongue up the length of you, keening and whimpering like he is the one being pleasured. His lips wrap around your swollen clit and your hips buck further into his face, you bite down on your hand to stop yourself from screaming.

“No...please…” nagito whispers from beneath you, “I want to hear you, let me hear how good I am making you feel.”

His tongue gets back to work, slowly dipping in and out of your dripping entrance as his hands curl around your thighs.

“Ooh— ooohhh! ” You croon, grinding your hips sinfully against the lower half of his face, “You’re so good...your tongue feels so-- ahhh! S--So good, Nagito…”

Nagito moans . You can feel the vibrations through his tongue as it thrusts in and out of you. He sucks and licks with the desperation of a man who wants to taste every inch of you, every millimeter . He’s shaking under you, frantic and needy with nothing more than a desire for you. It’s almost overwhelming, you’ve never had someone want you like this before and it makes a powerful heat stroke at your core.

“F-Fuck…” You manage to hiss, centleching your eyes shut and digging a hand into the halo of his hair, “Nagito...I...I want you... please! ”

He slows his ministrations for just a moment. Big green eyes blinking up at you from between your thighs, “Are you sure? I’m more than happy to keep doing this.” he laughs a little, “I’m enjoying myself quite a bit.”

You caution a glance behind yourself to where his cock is still standing at full attention, twitching and dripping . He is enjoying himself, that is very much clear.

“I’m sure.” you give him a smile and brush some of his hair from his face, “I’ll take you up on the offer next time though.”

Nagito’s breath hitches, and you feel his fingers dig tight into your thighs, “...next time?”

“Yeah. Next time.” You swallow, “If you want a next time, that is.”

You can't really see his mouth, but you can still tell that he is grinning, “I...I do want a next time.”

“Ah, good. It would have been really awkward if you said no…” you clear your throat, “Condom?”

“Top drawer.” He replies, nodding in the direction of his bedside table before returning his mouth to your clit. You reach behind yourself and slap his thigh.

“Stop that! I’m not going to be able to rip a condom open if I'm shaking…”

He chuckles, “but you taste so good…”

Biting your lower lip to hold in a moan, you manage to wriggle a hand into Nagito’s drawer and locate a box of condoms. Still shrinkwrapped, “ah, shit. I hate opening this stuff.”

Nagito does not offer to help you. Still caressing your sex with his tongue. He hits your clit hard for a moment and your hips jump forward.

“Fuck...Nagito!” You moan and squeeze your eyes shut, “I need to get this stupid box open.” You manage to get a corner of the shrinkwrap between your teeth and tear it open. Nagito now has his tongue back inside of you, “hnng…” you force out, pulling a condom out and just letting the box fall to the floor, “stop distracting me!”

You can feel him laugh against you, gently lapping his tongue at your insides as you finally manage to tear the condom open, “Oh! These are ribbed for my pleasure! How very polite of you.” you tease, shuffling down from his face and between his legs.

Nagito turns red, the lower of his face glistening with your slick. He brings up an arm and cleans himself off with the back of his hand, “Ah...I just...I figured if I was going to buy some…”

Your lips quirk up in a smile as you roll the condom down over his twitching cock. He hisses at the feeling of your palm caressing him, “What are you so worried about? I mean it, it was a nice gesture.”

Nagito gasps when you swing a leg over his bony hips, hovering just over his cock, so close that you can just feel the head brushing your folds. Nagito has his hands buried in the sheets and you can see him quivering beneath you, “Everything okay? Do you need to stop?”

He shakes his head, adam’s apple bobbing as he traces your form with his eyes, “I just...I can’t believe you're about to do this.” he chokes on a laugh, covering his mouth with a hand, “I’m going to ruin you…”

A smile crawls up your cheek as you slowly start lowering yourself down. Nagito makes a shocked noise at the back of his throat when the head pops inside of you, “and I, you.”

You watch in awe as his chest rises and falls, as his eyes squeeze shut. His brow creases, his cheeks are painted in a gorgeous red. He looks like a masterpiece, and there's a little voice in your head, praising yourself for being the one who did this to him. Then, he is fully inside of you, stretching you out and pulsing against your tight heat.

Nagito’s hips buck just a little, a hiss escaping his mouth, “Ah... ahhh .” he swallows thickly as his eyes open, staring up at you in absolute adoration, “I’m inside you...I’m really inside you…”

“Sure are.” You reply, lifting yourself up just a little before dropping back down again. A moan rips from his mouth, and a needy whine escapes yours, “You feel...really good…”

He nods his head, staring up at the ceiling like he is trying to ground himself, “You’re so warm...you’re taking me so perfectly…”

You shiver at the compliment. Relishing in the feeling of Nagito’s desperate little thrusts, it feels like he is trying to hold himself back, but he just can’t . Like he needs you, like he craves you. You roll your hips, moaning long and hard at the sensation of him moving inside of you. Nagito whimpers, hips shaking as he tries his hardest to stay still.

“What are you waiting for?” You ask, “I’m all yours, Nagito. Take me.”

His hips snap up. Just the once, his body responding to your words before his head even has a chance to catch up, “You...you’re mine… ” he breathes, disbelieving, but utterly hungry. His hands slowly curl around your hips, pads of his fingers digging into your flesh as he starts moving in earnest. The sound that cuts loose from your throat is so loud that it surprises even you, the feeling of him bottoming out inside of you is insane. It makes your toes curl, your stomach tense, your heart race.

“You liked that?” He whispers, voice gravelly and breathless as he continues pounding up into you, like he doesn't want to be outside of you for more than a second, “You feel so good...so perfect...i couldn't resist you even if i wanted to--” he throws his head back and groans, “--you take my cock like it was meant for you and you alone…”

It isn't clear if he is doing it on purpose, or if he is just saying exactly what he is thinking. Either way, Nagito knows exactly what to say to push your buttons. The insinuation that you were made for his cock, and that it was made for you has you clenching hard around him. Sweaty and clammy, grinding your hips harder and harder. Desperate for more of him. More of Nagito. All of Nagito.

“M’close…” You force out, breath growing shaky and thighs quivering on either side of his hips.

Nagito laughs, it's loud and wild. It echoes around the room, “You’re going to cum for me?”

“Just for you. All for you.”

He moans, letting one hand drop down from your hip to circle your clit instead. You howl and Nagito hisses through his teeth, you’re bouncing on his cock now. Keening and whining, the warmth in your stomach is growing unbearable, and watching Nagito’s mouth drop open in a perfect moan doesn't help. It’s right then, that he shoves himself up inside of you hard , hitting just the right place for you to finally come undone. There's white behind your eyes as all the tension within you snaps, hips gyrating furiously as you ride out your orgasm. Nagito lets out a cry and pounds up into you with a surprising ferocity, cock twitching between your walls as he cums. His face in that moment is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

It takes a minute for you to come back down from your high. Falling forward and resting your head in the join between Nagito’s neck and shoulder, breathing deeply as the shivers from your orgasm slowly subside. Nagito starts rubbing gently circles on your back, his hands are shaky, but you aren't sure if he is just lethargic or if he is also nervous. You lift yourself up with your arms and press a kiss to his cheek, “I’m getting off you now, ready?”

He nods sleepily, and you lift your leg up and over him, collapsing bodily onto the bed beside him. Everything is still fizzing and popping, from your heart out to your fingertips. If it feels like the sun has awoken inside your chest. You just want to lie here forever.

“Just...ah...give me a minute, and then I'll move out to the couch.” Nagito says, panting quietly, “You can take the bed.”

You roll over to face him, “Nagito...you really think i'm going to kick you out of your own bed?”

“Oh, i don't know...I just...didn't want to presume.”

With an affectionate sigh, you shuffle a little closer to him, resting your head on his chest and tucking your arm in around his waist, “No presumption necessary. I want to sleep with you.”

Nagito laughs, “You already did.”

“Hey! You know what I meant.” you lean up a little and press a kiss to his shoulder before snuggling deeper into his chest, “I want to actually sleep with you.”

“I still can’t believe you're here with me…” he sighs happily, curling an arm around your shoulders, “In my bed, no less.”

“That’s what you get for being so cute all the time. I’ve been staring at you for like, the past two months.”

“Ah...for a long time i assumed that there was always something stuck in my teeth. That uh, happens to me a lot.”

You press your ear to his chest, closing your eyes and listening to the sound of his heart, “Nah. Nothing stuck in your teeth. I just thought you were the most beautiful man I had ever seen.”

You hear him choke at that, his hand tightening around your shoulders, “You are...the most wonderful person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.” He plants a kiss to the top of your head, “I wouldn't be surprised if this was all a dream, that i’ll wake up tomorrow and you’ll be gone.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper, and the gentle thump of his heart slowly soothes you into sleep.

Hey guys. Note from Bree here. I hope that this was okay, I’ve been feeling really down on my writing recently and I’m really not sure why, but i just dont think anything im posting has been any good. So i just hope that you still enjoyed this even though its a mess. Im so worried that im losing nagito’s voice. im like, scared about it actually, cause this is the only thing im good at, you know? and what’s even the point of me if i cant do this one thing anymore...... ugh, sorry for being such a complain jane. i just, idk. the komaeda who lives in my head is calling me trash 24/7 hahahahahahahhaa

#komaeda x reader #nagito komaeda #komaeda nagito #nagito x reader #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa

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wish-i-wasnt-a-coward · 3 years

Text

The echoey hallway

a/n: quick note, this is 100% a rant fic. I have been upset by something and this is my way of getting it out. As it says in the warnings this is a description of a pretty intense panic attack, please don’t read if that would bother you <3333

Pairings: platonic or romantic Moceit, slightly toxic platonic lamp (not really their just oblivious)

Warnings: panic attack, self deprecating thoughts, food, toxic mindsets, slight disassociation due to a panic attack, hurt/comfort, angst w/ a happy ending, feeling like a burden (mood ngl), violence mention, cursing

Word count: 1,200

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Patton curled into himself. His arms wrapped around his chest as he sobbed violently. Heavy breathing filled his ears, forcing out any other sound. His entire face was slick with tears, glasses coated in the slime.

He had tried so hard.

Morality was responsible for taking care of the other sides, dark, light, whatever, they were all his kiddos. He had an obligation to them, of course it was an obligation that he loved! But that didn’t mean he was good at it.

They had all been uncomfortable around each other since Janus’ acceptance. But Patton and his famILY were working on better communication and over the past few moths Janus had become a reluctant part of the group.

Which was why Patton was so exited when Roman asked to take him to a show in the imagination. They were singing one of the new songs that Roman had worked so hard on and from what Patton had heard it was really good.

So of course when the day of the performance arrived and Patton woke up in a blanket of misery. Even getting out of bed had been a hassle and by the time he managed to pull himself downstairs, the others were all awake.

The mask had slipped on so easily at first. Patton smiled and joked his way through breakfast, making it as fast as he could to accommodate for the time he had wasted in bed.

It was only when Roman reminded him of the day that he faltered. They had all looked at him in concern, Patton had felt sick, it wasn’t their job to care about his problems but he could barely function as it was. A trip to the imagination would be torture.

Roman had looked so crushed.

He left without eating anything. Virgil left quickly after to check on him. Good, at least Roman wasn’t alone. Logan went off to work barely glancing at Patton as he left.

That was when Patton broke.

He made it halfway to his room before the attack hit him, he crumpled into the corner of the hallway. His sobs bounced the hallway as he cried alone.

If only he wasn’t so fucked up, why did his family even put up with him? He couldn’t do his job right, he couldn’t be there for the others, he couldn’t do one. fucking. thing. without hurting someone else.

He understood now why Virgil wanted to duck out.

Virgil was wrong of course, they needed him. The emo could be gloomy, but he always did his best to protect the others and Thomas. He was an essential part of the group, Virgil knew that now. Patton on the other hand couldn’t take care of his family or steer Thomas in the right direction without hurting the person he was supposed to be helping. They would all be so much better without him.

Patton heaved as his breathing picked up. His whole body was shaking, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see.

Everything hurt, he hurt everything.

Patton wasn’t sure how long he sat like this. Nothing felt real, he wasn’t even sure if he was still crying. Patton was sure this was how he was going to die, if it was maybe he deserved it.

Something broke him out of his trance slightly, “-hear me?” a voice said through Patton breathing. it was barely a wispier to him but a jot of panic flowed through Patton’s veins. despite being barely coherent he was present enough to register that this was not a state he wanted anyone to see him in.

The shaking side crawled away from the figure crouched in front of him. Patton pressed his back up to the wall, blinking his eyes open only to slam them closed again. Janus looked so worried, he shouldn’t be. It’s not his job to worry about Patton, it’s no one’s job. No one needs that kind of burden.

“Patton,” Deceit said softly, “may I touch you?” he asked holding his bare hands up as non-threateningly as possible.

Patton made a horrible choked noise but nodded. Janus sprung into action scooping the moral side into his arms and pulling them both into Patton’s room only a few yards away, as they walked Janus reminded Patton of the breathing exercise Virgil used in his moments of panic.

He carefully placed the shaking side on a pile of pillows. Patton seemed to have calmed down a bit but he was far from better.

Janus summoned two cups of hot-coco and placed them next to the fort. He sat quietly next to Patton who crawled into his lap holding onto Janus like a lifeline, Janus wrapped all six arms around the side. The two lay there for a few moments before Janus handed Patton his cup, the moral side took it numbly and held it to his chest.

“Hey, darling” Janus began, “I know you’re still out of it but talking about it could get some of it off your chest,” he said softly. Patton let out a shaky breath, “I know” he murmured. “I don’t want to bother you” he mumbled into Janus’ chest, flinching when Jan inhaled sharply.

“Why would you bother me Pat?” he asked tensely. “S’ not your job to take care of me”. Janus made a face, “Isn’t it?”. Patton shook his head, “Sweetheart, I’m self-preservation. It is exactly my job to take care of you” Patton made a noise but Janus continued, “It’s our job actually, everyone’s. And it’s not a job, more like a…”

“moral obligation?” Patton finished with a bitter laugh at the pun. “I was going to say that it was nicer than a job. Taking care of you isn’t a bad thing, just as you taking care of us isn’t a bad thing” Janus paused, “It’s not right?”

“No! Of course not!” Patton cried, sitting up a little, “It’s my favorite thing about being a part of Thomas” Janus nodded smiling, “even though I’m not good at it, making you all happy makes me so happy” Janus’ smile evaporated, “what do you mean not good at it?”

Patton looked a little embarrassed, “well ya know, I keep messing things up with Thomas and Roman-” Patton cut himself off with a sob. Janus pulled him back into an embrace sighing heavily. “Patton, I don’t know what happened with Roman but I am sure he will get over it. He loves you so much, we all do. I have no idea where you got the idea that you aren’t doing a good job. Even with Thomas, you’re learning. Adapting yourself to meet the needs of others as well as yourself is not an easy thing. But you’re doing a great job, I’m so sorry we haven’t told you that”

“Don’t be sorry” Patton mumbled still pressed against Janus’ chest. “I am and you can’t stop me,” Janus said smiling down at Patton who let out a tiny giggle, progress.

“Do you want me to stay here or should I go beat up Roman?” Janus asked seriously. “Stay” Patton yawned, “And no violence”. Janus’ expression was so ridiculously soft, “of course dear heart. No violence, just threats” Patton hummed, “we’ll get there” he murmured half asleep already. Janus laughed, “we will Pat, we will,” he said brushing his fingers through Patton’s curls.

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tainted-wine · 4 years

Text

I hope you don’t mind this being exclusive for the Pro-Heroes!

(NSFW)

Papers? Check. Writing utensils? Check. Lube? Check.

You were primed and ready to begin this cocktastic journey. Completing this project will be a great benefit to Thirstology. You can’t believe that they put their trust in you to collect such valuable information from several willing participants. There’s no way you’re going to let the people at National Thirst Studies down.

With your lower body completely bare, you and your ambitious pussy set out to begin the cockwarming interviews.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Pre-Notes: The Symbol of Peace. It’s still surreal to see him in such a fragile state. Strangely enough, I never once asked myself: Does All Might fuck? “Obviously he was too pure for fucking,” is what I would have said before I devoted my life to Thirst Studies. But I have learned over the years that there is no such thing as purity.

------

After he got over the initial shock of you wearing no pants or underwear, you were finally able to begin your study and ask him the main question.

You barely dodged the spray of blood spewing out of his mouth. “Am I into what?” He sputtered.

“Cockwarming, sir. The act of settling a penis in a nice cozy orifice. There’s no movement, only penetration. Surely you already at least knew the definition when you agreed to this?” You offered him a paper towel, which he accepted with a choked “thank you.”

“Midnight told me this would be about intimate relationships,” he anxiously explained while wiping the red off of his lips. “But I wasn’t expecting to hear something that graphic.”

Ah, so he was talked into this. “Well, with your permission, I can give you a personal demonstration.”

His answer was inaudible the first time; you had to ask him to speak up in order to hear his adorably high “yes.” He was a lot shyer than you imagined. Poor guy was shaking like he was on a verge of a heart attack when you took his cock out and boy, did he put the ‘long’ in ‘schlong.’ But your mission wasn’t to admire the dick’s appearance, it was to learn how their owners used them inside a hot snatch. You climbed onto him and lowered yourself and ooooh shit, both of you were moaning as his inches sank into you. You couldn’t take it all, but it was more than enough to get the job done.

“Mmnngh, yes, very long. Pushing almost painfully,” You said through clenched teeth, scribbling in your notepad as you sat semi-comfortably in his lap. “Can you give me your input, Toshinori? How is this feeling for you?”

“Blrraaaffggg.”

“Toshi?”

“…”

He laid limp in the interview chair as crimson liquid continued to flow from his mouth. Well, this is troublesome. You’ll have to wait for him to regain consciousness to hear his feedback.

------

Conclusion: This was his first time experiencing cockwarming. He described it as ‘intense, but not unpleasant’. Unfortunately, whenever I ask for more details, he would get too embarrassed to share anything. Frankly, this isn’t the most fruitful start to my series of interviews, but it was a great privilege to meet the amazing All Might.

Shouta Aizawa/Eraserhead

Pre-Notes: I honestly don’t even know who the hell this is. An underground hero, apparently. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that he brought a cat with him. I told him that it needs to stay outside during the interview, but the difficult bastard was ready to turn around and leave unless I allowed the furball in. What a hassle. Do I even want to sit on this man?

------

You’re thankful that you did, in fact, sit on this man. His sleek ebony cat was relaxing in your lap while your pink kitty was stuffed with his cock. Despite his indifference to the situation, it was strangely intimate. Taking notes over a cute feline while his length twitched inside you was rather challenging.

“You seem like a rather exhausted fellow. Is it maybe the laid-back nature of the act that you find so alluring?” You asked.

“Mmhmm.” His arms circled around you to stroke his adorable pet.

“Being able to just wind down by giving your hard snake a wet hot crib to rest in?”

“Mmmmm.”

“I would appreciate a more elaborate answer.”

“Mmmmm...”

You shifted just enough to turn your head and see Aizawa’s head lolled back, his breaths getting heavier after each exhale. You can feel him quickly going soft inside you.

Ugh...

------

Conclusion: Given that he fell asleep in the middle of the demonstration, it’s safe to say that he finds the act very relaxing. I can only make guesses because the moment he woke up, he hurried me off his lap, picked up his cat and headed out. I did my best to chase him and ask if I could at least hear his final thoughts, but that bastard leaps on cars and buildings as skillfully as Edgeshot.

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic

Pre-Notes: I’m not sure what to expect from the Voice Hero. His radio show has hosted some surprisingly insightful interviews. Unlike the last two, he will hopefully have some truly constructive answers to give.

------

“Not gonna lie, I always wanted to try this!”

Both of you were red in the face as you sat on his throbbing cock. Despite the blush and slight shake in his voice, he was as cheerful as ever. “Sometimes I just wonder, it would be pretty cool to just have a hottie warmin’ me up during my show, ya dig? No sex, though. I know I’m not quiet enough to get away with that on the air!” He laughed loudly right into your ear.

Well that kinda hurt, but it’s nice to finally have a fully cooperative interviewee. You were actually able to ask all of your planned questions for once, and Hizashi gave a satisfying answer to each one.

Unfortunately, it just couldn’t go perfectly, and his phone ended up ringing near the end of the interview.

“Hold on, listener. I gotta take this.”

Did he really? You wished he would wait until you were done.

You felt him lean back as you remained on his lap. “Shouta, buddy! What’s goin’ on?”

Shouta? Does he mean...?

“Sorry about that! I’m not home yet, I’m doin’ a...special interview, with a hard-working thirstologist.” You heard the voice on the other end respond, and Hizashi made a noise of confusion. “Eh? What do you mean ‘you too?’”

Oh dear, he does. They actually know each other.

The conversation quickly transformed into an argument, a loud one. The two heroes apparently have some...tension between them.

“Oh, so I throw hints at you for years and you act as innocent as your cats, but you’ll sit down and let a girl hop on your dick during an interview?!”

You had to lift yourself off of his softening member and take shelter from his booming voice. He was tucking himself back into his pants with one hand as he marched out of the room, but his hurt and anger was still loud and clear. “Don’t give me that bull. I bet if I hit you with twenty one questions about cockwarming, you’d just pretend you’re asleep! Oh, you actually did fall asleep? Huh.”

You awkwardly collected your notes as the two gentlemen were seemingly making up.

“Damn right I’ve always felt this way. Oh man, you better get ready tonight because I’ve got over ten years of pent up feelings, and you’re gonna take it all.”

------

Conclusion: It feels good to have a full interview. In summary, Hizashi is intrigued by the combination of closeness and casualness of it all. His interest in cockwarming during his jobs also indicate a possible thrill out of doing it in public. In addition, I’d like to announce with some pride that I may have assisted in taking two friends to the next level of their relationship.

Hawks

Pre-Notes: I’m eager to hear what the handsome winged hero has to say. I wouldn’t mind if we just stare at each other throughout the entire interview. My lust for him is unbearably strong and I’m not sure why. It’s probably just the horny writer’s obvious bias towards this bird. She could use another hobby.

------

Hawks laughed once you gave him the question that officially begins the interview. “Gotta admit, I’ve actually never tried it.”

That’s a surprise that you quickly jot down in your notes. “I see. Is it something you’re interested in trying? I can give you a demonstration right here.”

“Oh? I’d love one.”

You try not to look too excited as you leave your seat and move to undo his pants, but Hawks raises a hand.

“But I want you to do it on your knees.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “My knees? How do I-”

“With your mouth.”

Oh my.

You granted his request and kneeled down to take his half-hard cock into your mouth.

“Ahhh, that’s nice.” He sighed loudly, spreading his legs more as he stared down at you.

You detached your mouth from him to speak. “Can you tell me what it is that you-mmffrrf.”

A hand pushed you back down onto his man meat. “No no no, just...stay right there. I’ll do the talking in a minute.”

You sat there with his cock growing in the heat of your mouth. Hawks’s eyes were closed, a small content smile on his face. Every time you lifted your head just an inch, the hand on your head pressed you back down. Just when this interview was starting to feel more like a hookup, he finally began to talk.

“Oh yeah, I’ve fantasized stuff like this. You got a shitty boss? I do, don’t tell them I said that, though. They’re always finding something to get on my ass about. Working me like a dog everyday, expecting me to pull off these insane missions flawlessly.”

All you could do was look up and listen to his rant. He must have loved the sight of you, going by the strong twitch of his length in your mouth.

“They just keep asking more and more from me. ‘Do this faster next time, Hawks!’ or ‘I know you’ve never done something like this before, but don’t fail us, Hawks!’ Sometimes I just wanna shove something in their mouths...like my dick. Can you relate?”

You shook your head as well as you could in your current position.

He shrugged. “Oh well. As far as I know, I’ll always be the one getting fucked by them. But something like this...” He pat your head. “Ah yeah, it would be so nice to see them like this...”

------

Conclusion: Hawks was sadly short on time and had to leave before I could even get into the questions. Going by the very personal feelings and frustrations he shared, Hawks enjoys the dominance displayed from cockwarming, and prefers it be done orally. I will respect his wishes and not reveal any of the opinions that he shared about the establishment he works for and its executives.

Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fat Gum

Pre-Notes: It’s best that I continue to be honest: I’m anxious. Fat Gum is one of the biggest heroes around, and I just know that there is a deadly pillar of pussy destruction in those pants. I know that I should be more concerned with the questions, but it just won’t leave my mind.

------

“So, what experience do you have with this, Toyomitsu?”

The large man chuckled. He was currently in his skinny form, which you’re pretty thankful for since his fat form would have been beyond awkward to straddle. That would be like trying to hump one of those giant inflatable characters at parades. “A pretty lady I knew was really into it! I tried it for her sake, but I’ll say this with no ego, my sausage ain’t something to be taken lightly! Still, she was determined, and I was really digging just how strong her will was to take me.”

‘She sounds like a very brave soul,‘ you thought as your pen glided across your paper.

“I couldn’t believe it when she managed to get all of me inside. She couldn’t either, because she passed out! At first I just wanted to laugh it off,” he cackled as if to give an example, but his face quickly drooped into a somber expression. “But then I realized she wasn’t breathing...” His eyes shut in pain and sorrow. “And I couldn’t find a pulse...”

You nearly dropped your pen in horror. “My goodness, Toyomitsu. I’m so sor-”

“I’m just messin’ with ya! She’s fine!” His face immediately brightened up again, leaving you shocked and somewhat upset over the scare. “But seriously, if you want a seat on this big boy, I hope you’ve got plenty of lube on hand.”

“Don’t worry, I do. More than enough for the biggest flesh towers.”

But your doubts instantly returned when the bulging monster was freed from his pants. It’s huge. Toshinori may have been long, but this monster was unbelievable in both length and girth.

Your fear must have been evident on your face, because Toyomitsu asked, “You sure you wanna do this? Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You whipped out your bottle of lube and drenched your hands. “Thirstology is my passion. My life’s work. I am more than willing to put my life on the line for science.”

The hero raised an eyebrow. “It’s...not that serious, but I really like your guts, missy.” He gave himself a few strokes. “So let me tear them up.”

Even with the coatings of lube inside your pussy and on his massive cock, this was still the most arduous task you have ever performed in your life. You didn’t know it was possible to be stretched this far. The light blonde was mesmerized by your trembles and scrunched expressions and as you tried to take more of him, his mouth slightly open when he noticed the swell in your lower abdomen.

“Oh, that is hot.”

------

Conclusion: I did it. I took the Fat Gun. Fat Gum himself takes a lot of pleasure in watching the strain of someone trying to take him in, and due to his partner often being much smaller than him, the tightness is very pleasurable to him. He was the only interviewee that actually came during the demonstration, so I suppose it’s safe to say that he is the biggest fan of cockwarming out of the five. He was very panicked when he came inside me, but I reassured him that I am on the pill. This is still a hell of a mess to clean up, however.

(I hope the information I have obtained will be useful for the institute. Thank you for giving me this opportunity)

#asks #smut #all might #shouta aizawa #hawks #present mic #fatgum #yagi toshinori #keigo takami #yamada hizashi #i got more invested in this as i went on #also how the hell do you write fatgum

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thewayshedreamed · 3 years

Note

I know this isn’t a ship but can u please write a cute Aedion and Evangeline scene (potentially with background Lysaedion )

Ask for some Lysaedion, Sayo, and you shall receive. I know you bear a heavy weight in this fandom, so I hope this helps! 😅💕 [Bonus sprinkle of some HP for you, too].

843 words.

—

Aedion should have known Aelin was going to abandon him the second they arrived at Lysandra's apartment. His cousin was supposed to have two roles; serve as moral support and babysit Lysandra's little sister. His first date with Lys needed to go well, and Aelin was dropping the ball. Hard.

He had never met Evangeline before, had only heard of her through Lysandra and Aelin, and he didn't have much contact with children. Was she a child at 11 years old? Did she qualify as a preteen? He didn't know how to carry a conversation between a grown man and a preteen girl. He would sooner take a punch to the jaw.

He went for the safest thing he could imagine. "So, what are you watching?"

The movie was one he had seen a hundred times or more, but the commercial break allowed him the blessing of an ice breaker. Evangeline slid her skeptical gaze toward where he sat in the armchair.

"Have you heard of Harry Potter?"

Aedion blinked, trying to determine if she meant to be sarcastic. " Who hasn't seen Harry Potter?"

Evangeline shrugged and said, "I didn't know! I mean, you are—" She glanced over, weighing the risks of finishing her sentence. "—I don't know. You're closer to my sister's age."

"Exactly!" He tried not to sound indignant. "Harry Potter is more my generation than yours."

"Hm. Have you read the books?"

The nerve on this girl was incredible. "Yes, I've read them all." The commercials ended, revealing a scene he could nearly narrate from memory. "This is Prisoner of Azkaban."

Evangeline dared to look impressed, but she schooled her expression. "I was just checking. I'm re-reading them right now." As close to a truce as he would get.

"I wore mine out over the years."

The two of them watched the movie before commercials began. He had felt aware of every second that Lysandra and Aelin didn't appear, but at least he had wizards to distract him.

"You're a Gryffindor?"

Aedion didn't love her tone. "I am, actually."

A smirk pulled at Evangeline's mouth. "Yeah, you seem like one." Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

"And what House are you?" he demanded. He silently chastised himself; then, he wished he hadn't with Evangeline's haughty reply.

Somehow, the girl looked down her nose. "Ravenclaw."

"The scrutiny makes more sense now," he grumbled and remembered he was supposed to be winning Evangeline's favor. "Which of the books was your favorite?"

"Order of the Phoenix."

"Ravenclaw through and through."

That earned him a smile. She didn't seem the type to offer them freely, so Aedion celebrated the win internally.

"Let me guess. Yours is Goblet of Fire?"

Aedion nodded. "It's a key turning point in the series. During the tournament, when the ritual is performed in the cemetery, things turned darker from there on."

"So, not the competition between schools of magic or the dragons?"

He almost bristled at the stereotype before he remembered doing the exact thing. "They didn't hurt."

The two of them shared a laugh. They had found common ground in the wizarding world, and Aedion was thankful for it.

"Aelin and I had to share the books growing up," he shared, unsure of what made him say it. He kind of liked the kid, if he was honest. "We wrote to each other in the margins."

"Really? What did you write?"

"A bit of everything. Sometimes we wrote our reactions, and sometimes we would jot questions to talk about later. Every now and then, Aelin would underline quotes. I would have done the same, but we seemed to like the same stuff."

"Oh, maybe I could get Lys to do that with me; if I can convince her to re-read them."

"I could work on that at dinner," he offered with a wink. That earned him a wide smile. "In the meantime, what if I sent a book with Aelin next time she comes over. Maybe Order of the Phoenix? You could read our stuff, and we could talk about it."

Evangeline sat a bit taller. "Really?"

"Of course. I'll talk to her."

"Thanks, Aedion."

They returned their attention to the movie for another few minutes. A question nagged at him and he realized he had the perfect person to answer it.

"Evangeline, what House does Lys belong to?"

She eyes him curiously, turning toward the TV with a mischievous glint in her eye. "You'll have to ask her."

As if on cue, the two women finally emerged from Lysandra's bedroom. She was as stunning as always.

"Ready?" she asked.

Aedion stood while she hugged Evangeline goodbye, giving her strict orders to be good with Aelin. He decided now was a good time to ask.

"Lys, what Hogwarts house are you?"

She slipped her phone into her back pocket and walked toward the door.

"Slytherin. Why?"

He glanced at Evangeline just long enough to see her lips twitch.

"No reason," he paused, projecting his voice as he closed the door. "At least you're not a Ravenclaw."

Send me an ask! • Question? Send me a message! • More? My Masterlist

#lysaedion #lysaedion au #aedion ashryver #lysandra #Evangeline #cute aedion + evangeline #800 followers celebration #twsd fics #twsd writes

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djarrex · 3 years

Text

Countermeasures || 6

Conspiracy

Fives x ofc!reader

<- previous chapter | next chapter ->

| main masterlist | series masterlist | read on ao3 |

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: unprotected piv, oral (fem receiving), fluff, mention of stress-induced throwing up, aftercare, angst, feelings

chapter summary: You and Fives head to Coruscant to meet with the Chancellor in order to find some answers, but things don’t go exactly as planned.

note: tbh this chapter if half filth. Sorry posting it took longer than the others and if some things look weird - I got tired of rereading this - I hope it’s okay BUT I am already in the process of jotting things down for the next chapter. I’ll let y’all in on a lil somethin’.... I’m planning on making chapter 7 completely from Fives’ POV.

***

From where you were able to watch the dark nothingness littered with glowing stars outside of the tiny viewport, you saw the planet you’d come to call home slowly approach as the ship exited hyperspace. The white clouds swirled over most of the surface as seen from space, yet the distinctive glow of major cities and routes shined brighter than any nearby stars; the bright lights connected each spherical pattern by distinct lines of light, marking the major highways and transport lanes.

Coruscant.

You were home, though you were not arriving in a way you could have ever imagined.

You were to accompany Nala Se, Master Shaak Ti, and Fives to the Senate Complex to meet with Chancellor Palpatine - and hopefully get some answers. Who in the hells would have ever thought you’d be meeting the Chancellor? If only your parents could see you now. They’d be... proud? Under such strange circumstances, you weren’t even sure what you were feeling about it all.

Accomplishment? Was that what you were feeling? Certainly not success, nor defeat, since this wasn’t over yet.

Perhaps accomplishment was an appropriate feeling, solely for the fact that you and Fives had gotten through to somebody - now you were to meet with the fucking Supreme Chancellor.

Fives was knocked out during the journey - given a sedative as a precautionary measure - against your wishes, and was kept isolated. Maybe it was because Fives had a blaster trained on an unarmed Kaminoan… still, it upset you. He wasn’t going to actually harm Nala Se. You’d only known Fives for a week, but you know he would never hurt someone unarmed and innocent - though you both wouldn't exactly consider Nala Se as innocent after what took place back on Kamino.

The journey was extremely long - 120 hours, to be almost exact. At least you were finally able to catch up on some sleep, even if it was on the hard bunks within the small ship’s sleeping quarters. Though you were upset Fives wasn’t conscious during the journey, you were somewhat glad he was getting rest, forced by sedative or otherwise.

You were eager to be with Fives again; you were still in shock - he had kissed you. Twice. The things you were feeling brought you back to the giddiness of having a crush on another boy from your settlement when he gave peck on the cheek; you were no older than ten, as was he. You can’t remember the last time you felt these things for another. Surely you didn’t feel this way for that boy when you were both only ten years-old; maybe you’d never felt this way for someone - this was all new to you.

What was to happen now - would you and Fives... be together? It sounded so silly to play those words even in the privacy of your own mind; the thought of being with a clone was something you’d never imagine even in your wildest dreams, but as you mentioned to Fives back on Kamino, he’d changed your views on the clones entirely. Fives was so full of compassion, emotion, ferocity when necessary. He was intelligent and cunning, caring and funny. The way he was with you, so careful and sincere - you’d completely fallen for that man; it was no longer a simple crush nor rush of lust.

The thought of “being together” in a traditional sense sounded... nice. It seemed to be impossible; you knew better than most that the clones were designed to keep the mission in the forefront of their minds and everything else would be clouded out, but your time working with Fives gave you new insight that the clones were capable of a lot more than anyone - especially the masters of their creation - would’ve ever thought. Maybe it was possible.

The transport that had come up to bring you to the surface touched down at the hangar and you hurried to exit, eager to be reunited with Fives after the boring journey. Walking down the ramp and looking around at the other transport, there was no sign of Fives. You did see the conniving long-neck speaking with a couple troopers with painted red armor, nodding to her words before heading off and away from the ships. Deciding to confront her, you stepped cautiously towards Nala Se, keeping yourself aware of your surroundings while scanning the area in hopes to catch a glimpse of the man you’d fallen hard for.

Nala Se turned to face you, not so much as a smile made its way to her stoic face.

“Where is he, where’s Fives?” You stepped closer, your head tilting back and meeting her eyes from below. Trying to keep your cool was difficult; your accusatory tone towards her made her imaginary brows raise.

“He is still sedated. I had him escorted to the Chancellor’s office.” Her tone was calm, unfazed, nonchalant - obviously not too worried about entertaining your worry for Fives.

“Alright. So, I’ll follow you then?” You looked around towards where the troopers from before were heading, but to your dismay, the long-neck shook her head.

“Chancellor Palpatine did not request for you, Miss Renna. He only wishes to speak with trooper Fives.”

...what the fuck?

To seven hells with keeping your cool. This was totally not was discussed back on Kamino. A mixture of anger and confusion soared through you; tears threatened to form at the corners of your eyes. No way are you crying out of frustration in front of Dr. Nala Se.

“But I thought-” She held up her three fingers in front of you, halting your impending argument.

“I am afraid that was the Chancellor’s request.”

Without another word or opportunity for you to argue, Nala Se turned on her heels and left you alone and on the brink of a fucking meltdown.

There was no arguing with her and especially not with the Chancellor, but it was still strange. Where was Master Shaak Ti? She’d be able to help you out, right? Why would the Chancellor not want to meet with you - you, the one who was by Fives’ side throughout the entire investigation, the one who has actual medical knowledge and training? You had a bad feeling about it all.

What were you supposed to do now? You obviously couldn’t arrive unannounced at the Senate building, let alone the Chancellor’s office.

What of Fives? He’d probably freak out when he wakes up and you’re not there by his side. The last thing he knew before being put under was that you’d be going with him to meet the Chancellor. So, what? He’s going to wake up and point another fucking blaster at someone? You wouldn’t doubt it - this entire situation has got him completely on edge. Fives was hurt, confused, and felt betrayed, to say the least. He trusted the Jedi - that was something engrained in him from before he’d ever held a blaster - and was literally engineered to serve under them in this Maker forsaken war.

Something didn’t sit right with you, though, and that’s not including how you weren’t requested to be present in front of the Chancellor. What doesn’t sit right with you is that you were still... employed (in a sense) and weren’t dismissed when Nala Se had confronted you in the Embryo Room. Instead, you were allowed to come back to Coruscant along with your employer, and not as a consequence of dismissal.

You didn’t want to go back to Kamino, though. Maybe it would be best to go back to the academy and explain the situation to your advisors, though you weren’t entirely sure how to even begin to explain this mess to anyone who wasn’t already aware of what was going on.

If you didn’t return to Kamino, would that mean you were quitting? What if you spoke to your academic advisors first, asking for a transfer of internship? What if Nala is planning on dismissing you, just waiting until this was over with, does that mean you’d fail at the academy and not be placed any where else to finish up your training?

After what you’ve seen and what you’ve actually uncovered, you knew going back to Kamino was an absolute fuck no. If that meant you never becoming a doctor, then so be it.

Everything happens for a reason.

All there was to do was wait it out - see what happens with Fives’ meeting with the Chancellor.

Ultimately deciding to wait outside for him after his meeting, you started the trek to the complex in the footsteps of the troopers and Nala Se. When you got there, it was quiet; you expected the hustle and bustle of tourists or political figures, but there was no one - save for the expected Coruscant guards walking the perimeter with blasters in hand. It was just you, sitting alone and filled with worry on a long and wide staircase that led up to the grand entrance of the Senate Building.

***

Hours.

It had been hours since you’d first parked your ass outside the Senate Building. The sun was starting to set behind the enormous structure; the sky resembled fire with the stripes of yellows and oranges blending together, the flecks of purples and pinks littered the sky complementarily while the lines of speeders zooming along off in the distance became silhouettes.

You hadn’t seen a Coruscant sunset in over six months - it was what you missed the most while away on that stormy planet, where you'd never seen not one sunset.

You’d never forget your first night on Coruscant, a week before your first days at the medical academy. You were nervous and afraid, unsure of the crowded streets and the trillions of others walking or hovering among them - your first time surrounded by extremely unfamiliar faces and unaccompanied by your family. You came from such a small and poor settlement, where everyone knew each other and their ancestors - where you were comfortable, yet longed for more.

You’d bumped into what seemed like hundreds of passersby while navigating to your new apartment, located in a high rise just off the academy’s perimeter. The inside was complete with furnishings and decor that quite honestly wasn’t your taste, but the kitchen was huge and came with appliances you never thought you’d ever use in your lifetime - a stark contrast to the communal fire pit and dwindling supply of pots and pans from where you grew up.

Speaking of kitchen - you were starving.

Hungry and worried - the two most prominent feelings of late.

***

Back at your apartment you cooked dinner, sitting on the balcony while attempting to sooth your frustration and worry while spooning mouthfuls of your mother’s recipe for your favorite soup. It was getting late. You had no way to contact Fives, no way to contact anyone other than Nala Se.

She wasn’t the best option of contact, though she would be able to inform you of how the meeting went - lying about details or not, you just wanted to know if Fives was okay, even if the Chancellor didn’t take his side about the chips.

Those fucking inhibitor chips.

You hadn’t forgotten how Nala Se tried to cover it all up, rather than just explaining what they were from the get-go. If it really was something as simple as “making them less aggressive because their original donor was a crazy aggressive bounty hunter” then there should be no reason why you wouldn’t even know about the chips, or why you never saw anything about the chips in any files.

It appeared that you and Fives had unknowingly uncovered a conspiracy - a conspiracy that needed to stay undiscovered so badly that the Kaminoan in charge of the clones’ design was ready to recondition then kill any one clone that caught of whiff of anything remotely close to it.

Fives. Fives caught a whiff of something extremely close to it.

There had to be a reason why you weren’t welcome at that meeting.

Surely Nala Se could have been lying right to your face, as she’s done before, but what if the Chancellor really didn’t want or need to speak with you, or hear what you had to say about the chips in a medical sense?

Why was Nala Se so fucking adamant about sending all data on the chip - including the chips themselves and the clones it came from - straight to the Chancellor, protesting any mention of detours along the way? Why would it matter if Tup or his chip made a pitstop at the Jedi Temple for the Jedi to do their... Jedi stuff on him before reaching Nala Se’s voiced desired destination?

Weird. All of it... just fucking weird.

Now your stomach was turning; soup came up in your throat faster than you could register what was happening. It burned on the way out; hot soup spewed from your mouth with such force that the wall across from you was consequently covered in the contents of your stomach. Something you hadn’t done in a long time - vomiting out of pure anxiety and stress - happened quicker than you had time to realize how fucking bad the negative emotions stemming from the situation were affecting you.

You could just feel it - Fives was in danger. Though you didn’t know exactly what kind of danger or who at the hands of, that feeling was screaming at you.

Scared. Worried. Stressed. Angry. Upset and sobbing, because you’d just spewed fucking soup all over your wall.

Take a shower. Put on clean clothes. Get some fucking sleep. Check in with everything in the morning.

You repeated your own instructions both silently in your head and out loud to yourself as you finished cleaning up your disgusting stress-induced habit.

***

Knock knock knock.

You shot up from from the couch, already awake because you were just not able to shut your damn eyes.

“F- Fives?” His name croaked out of your sore throat; the possibility that Fives was at your door was just slim to none. Though, who else would it be?

“Renna...” Your name came from the other side of the door; the familiar voice sent... something shooting from your ears and straight to your toes.

Fives.

You don’t recall making the short journey to your door from the couch, but in a flash you were there, opening the door to be greeted by the man you’d just indirectly vomited because of.

He just stood there right outside your door; the dim light filtering in from the halls casted him as a silhouette, but you were able to make out how was still in that armor he had commandeered (well, just plain stole) back on Kamino and how he had a dark and dazed look in his golden eyes. It was difficult to read his face; normally Fives was quite expressive, but at that moment, there was nothing.

He slowly stepped forward, making you retreat a few steps. His unreadable expression changed as the light hit his face - it was one you’d never seen on him before.

Anger - that’s what you were feeling - along with worry, exhaustion, confusion - all towards this entire fucked up situation and being directed right at Fives before you could stop it.

“Where the fuck have you been-”

“I need you,” he growled, right before slamming his lips onto yours.

Not able to hold in the simultaneous gasp and moan that escaped your throat, Fives shut the door as you allowed him to push you back further into your apartment all while his lips remained locked with yours - hungry and wanting. Fives was devouring you, to put in plainly; he kissed you like it would be his last opportunity to. You didn’t realize Fives had been backing you up and up until your back slammed into a wall with a load thud, but he didn’t let up the kiss, no - in fact, the kiss deepened since you no longer had any more room to back up, firmly pressed against a hard surface while being caged in completely by Fives’ sturdy body. Desperate hands roamed your form, grabbing the meatier parts of you and offering a gentle squeeze.

You brain was jelly... what were you mad about again, among other things? Oh right... everything.

“F- Fives!” You snapped your head to the side, effectively breaking the kiss. “You wanna tell me what the fuck is going on? Maker, I was worried sick!” Literally sick. Like, literally.

“I- please... need you first. Please, Ren. I need you.” He tugged at your top with pleading and hungry eyes, silently asking for permission to take it off. You bit your lip, contemplating if this is how you wanted things to finally happen between the two of you. Fuck it. You wanted him - needed him.

Staring up at him under long lashes with your bottom lip caught in your teeth, you nodded. “Okay.” With no time wasted, your top was pulled off and thrown somewhere out of sight. His lips returned to yours, messy and warm. As your tongues swirled one another, Fives’ hands continued to grab at the newly exposed skin, palming your breasts underneath your sorry excuse for a bra, sending you into a frenzy. This was the most Fives’ had ever touched you - and it brought you back to those first couple of nights upon meeting him for the first time, when you imagined what his touch would feel like as you pleasured yourself. Coming back to the present, the warmth you felt in your face traveled further down, settling in your lower stomach. Your head tilted to the side and Fives broke from your lips to move south, kissing and sucking down your chin to your neck to your collarbone.

“F- fuck.” You nearly melted into a puddle when Fives’ hands found the clasp of your bra, tearing it off and tossing it to the side without his lips breaking contact from your skin.

Fives definitely wasn’t new to these activities.

“You smell so good, Ren,” He breathed against the curve of your shoulder just above your collarbone, nipping the skin there with a groan. All you could do was stand there like a noodle, whimpering while letting his strong arms hold you upright as he mouthed at your skin, the warmth coming from his nose and mouth sending shockwaves to the more sensitive parts of your body. Fives ventured back up to your mouth, placing sloppy and wet kisses along your bottom lip.

That thing that drives you absolutely crazy was done unknowingly by Fives again, causing you to moan loudly into his mouth - the vibrations making your shudder.

“That’s the second time you’ve done that when I do this,” Fives repeated the motion, chuckling against your lips when you let out another moan. “I guess you like it when I do that, huh beautiful?” Your eyes were clamped shut as you nodded to the best of your ability. Fives brought his hands up to grab your face, holding you steady in his large palms. “I need you, Renna.” Fives repeated himself, going back in for another hungry kiss. You broke away this time, placing your hands over his while still holding your face.

“Have me, Fives.”

He made a grunt akin to a growl before hoisting you up; strong hands grabbed your ass from underneath and your legs quickly wrapped around his waist as he smashed his lips back onto yours. You couldn’t help the whimpers that came from your throat as his stiffening cock rubbed against your aching core. Fives’ grip on your ass became rougher as he kneaded the plush skin through your sleep bottoms. You allowed your hands to roam around his shoulders and head, enjoying the feeling of the freshly buzzed hair as it pricked your fingers.

Desperate kisses and touches - that’s what it all was, and for a few minutes before your mouths detached, staring into each others eyes while catching your breaths.

“I’ve wanted this for so long...” Fives admission made you blush, and he definitely noticed. Tucking loose hair behind your ear, he smiled. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Renna. I’ve been to countless systems, moons, planets - nothing and no one on or within any of them could ever compare to you.”

You couldn’t stop the tear falling from your eye before Fives caught it, gently wiping it away with his thumb.

“No, sweet girl. I don’t want you crying over things I say,” He placed a quick kiss on your cheek where the tear fell, “I want you crying over how good I’m gonna make you feel when I finally fuck you.” You didn’t have time to react before Fives swung around and quickly moved to your bed, throwing you down on top of it. He stood at the edge of the bed, extremely intimidating at the angle you were looking at him from as he donned a full set of armor, sans helmet.

You squirmed underneath his gaze, feeling all too exposed with your top half completely bare while he stood there fully clothed and the some. As if he could read your mind, Fives started peeling off the armor, unclasping the pieces one by one while keeping his eyes locked with yours. Your body was completely on fire.

This was finally happening.

“Ren?” Fives was just taking off the last of the plastoid and tossing the vambraces to the side, looking at you with a hungry smirk. You nodded to him with a quizzical brow raised. “Tell me how long you’ve wanted this.”

He was teasing you.

“Fives...”

“Tell me, pretty thing.”

Shit, okay.

“Ever since I first saw you, Fives. When you first arrived on Kamino, in your armor.” The way he was questioning you with such... authority - you started to feel just how wet you were getting as you rubbed your thighs together in an attempt to stimulate yourself in some way.

The way he was in that moment... yeah, you told him the truth.

Fives hummed in approval with a cocky grin stretched on his face as he ran a warm palm up and down your trembling thigh. “You liked seeing me in my armor?”

“Stars. Yes... It was my first day outside the archives yet I don’t even remember that fucking conversation because I was too distracted by you.”

What is he, a fucking wizard? He was pulling confessions from you with very little effort - your brain was fried; all that was on your mind was getting Fives to touch you where you needed him to.

“It’s a shame I won’t have an opportunity to put that armor back on again. I would have loved to fuck you while I wore it.” Both his hands trailed up your calves to your thighs to the waistband of your bottoms, threatening to take them off as he yanked at the elastic band.

The commanding and intimidating ARC trooper was the Fives you never had the pleasure of personally dealing with... until now.

“Fives, please.” You wiggled underneath his hands, hoping he knew what you wanted through your half-ass begging.

“I really want to take my time with you, but I don’t think we have the luxury of time right now... I may not be able to control myself, Ren. I need you so fucking bad, baby.” His fingers finally clamped around your waistband, yanking the material down your legs in a one rough motion. As soon as your pants were off, his fingers were rubbing against the dampening spot seeping into the thin material of your underwear. Your focus was completely on controlling how loud you were panting that you didn’t even register that the lacy torn-up material between his fingers was your fucking underwear that he’d just ripped clean off your hips.

“Fuck... did you... just-”

“I warned you, Ren.” As soon as those last words flew out of his mouth, his face was instantly buried between your legs, tongue circling your folds in a very messy fashion. Strong hands grabbed at your thighs, yanking them up and over his broad shoulders as his mouth attacked your burning cunt. The embarrassing moans coming from your throat burned your ears as he went back and forth between flicking your clit with his tongue and licking up and down your slit. You nearly choked on your own spit as a broken cry made its way from your throat when he grabbed your hips and angled you so that his tongue sunk straight into your hole.

“H- oh m- fu- fuck.” You were nearly sobbing at the way he was tongue-fucking your clenching hole; his grip on your hips was bruising and the lewd slurping sounds coming from him sucking at every inch of your pussy all led up to an insane climax. The heat in your lower stomach was unbearable and you cried out as he insert two thick fingers inside you to replace his tongue. All it took was a few thrusts of his curled digits and were coming undone; Fives worked you through your high, keeping a brutal pace with his fingers and flicking of his tongue in sync with their attack.

He pulled back to look at you, lips swollen and eyes still dark with lingering want. He looked like a fucking dream - truly, a vision. Of all the times you’d imagined Fives touching and feeling you, having him devour you the way he was at the moment was nothing you could have ever dreamt of.

“You look so beautiful.” Fives stood up from his crouching position, softly positioning your quivering legs back on the bed. You doubted that you looked at all attractive with the way you were panting like you’d just ran a marathon, loose strands of hair sticking to your face from sweat. Shaking your head with unfocused eyes, you reached your hand out to him and he took it, allowing you to pull him on top of you. His lips attacked yours once again, but more delicately this time. Feeling the hard bulge straining in his black pants rubbing against your oversensitive cunt made you moan; Fives swallowing it and volleying back with his own. He lifted his head and broke the kiss, staring right into your heavy eyes.

“I want this... so badly,” he confessed, seeming just a little too shy for the way he just made you see the fucking Maker with his fingers and tongue. You couldn’t contain the giggle that made it past your lips as you reached down to palm at his clothed member.

“Take these off,” you cooed, attempting to wiggle his pants off his hips with just one hand.

Once Fives was completely bare, he leaned back over you, resting on his forearms that sat on either side of your head. You lifted your head slightly for another kiss as he grabbed himself to line up with your burning entrance. Your head fell right back down once the bulbous head of his perfect cock breached you; a mumbled curse fell from your lips as he slowly rolled his hips against yours.

“You’re so beautiful, Ren... so tight, so warm.” Your eyes nearly rolled into your skull as he inched all the way inside of you, pausing for a moment so as to get adjusted to one another. Your eyes locked with Fives’ as he started moving; the roll of his hips slow and deliberate as he hit the deepest part inside you over and over again. The eye contact made it just all the more intimate; watching one another’s reaction to the exquisite feeling of being this close to each other was pure bliss. You watched his brows crease in concentration as that dark look in his golden eyes grew all the more prominent, and you knew he was watching the way your mouth looked as broken curses tumbled off your tongue. Your hands flew up to rest against his buzzed head, rubbing soothing circles into his scalp as he tilted his head back down to suck at your collarbone.

This was the most intimate you’d ever been with somebody, but something within you was telling you that Fives was holding back for some reason - not giving you his all - that he was capable of more.

“Fives,” you breathed out, steadily rocking against the mattress from each deep thrust, “don’t hold back, baby. Give me you.” His eyes widened, quickly followed by a grunt of approval. Only a moment later he was nearly pulled all the way out of you just to slam himself right back in, making you shriek. Gasps made it made it past your devilish smile as he picked up the pace.

“Like that?” He snapped his hip so fucking hard and deep. “You want me to fuck you hard, Ren?” Unable to form a coherent response, you mumbled something akin to a confirmation; his quick and hard thrusts sent you scooting up higher on the bed with every smack of his hips against the underside of your thighs with the slight nodding of your head. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your arm was draped over your face, stifling the moans that erupted from deep within.

Fives grabbed your arm and threw it away from your face and breathed out between grunts, “Look at me, beautiful girl. R-remember what I said before? I want to s-see you cry from how good I’m making you feel.” Not knowing it was even possible, his hips slapped against you at an even quicker pace as he leaned on one arm to grab your hip with the other. The angle he was thrusting into at made him hit deep inside - hitting the spot that had you seeing the fucking Maker themselves again.

He continued to pound you into the mattress, beads of sweat forming on his brow framing his hungry eyes. Those perfect lips were parted, allowing the deepest of grunts and groans to filter through. Between the shared noises of pleasure, the quick smacking of skin meeting skin, and the squelching coming from his cock entering and exiting your throbbing pussy - your ears were on fire and the heat burning deep within you exploded into an intense climax. With a squealed out cry, your hands flew up to his back, pressing your nails deep into his thick skin, making him groan. Tears stemming from insane pleasure formed in your eyes, dripping down past your temples and onto the sheets beneath you.

“I feel you, beautiful. Cum for me - cum all over my c- gah-” The clenching of your spasming pussy that accompanied your orgasm made Fives break off his command as he dropped his head to rest on your collarbone, his cock pulsating within you. With just another few hard but lazy thrusts, liquid warmth spurted inside you as he held himself deep within your throbbing cunt.

He was no longer holding himself up - his full weight fell right on top of you, pretty much squeezing any remaining oxygen out of your lungs but you didn’t care at that moment. The both of you stayed still for a few minutes, letting your breaths return to normal and relishing each other’s post-sex scent.

When he finally lifted himself and pulled out of you, you didn’t even register that you were still crying until he wiped away the tears with the same fingers he had inside you, still sticky with your juices. You were crying because of two things: one, Fives made you feel more pleasure than anyone had ever, and two, there was something screaming at you from the back of your mind that though this was your first time with Fives - it may be your last. You didn’t want to think about that, but the memory of Fives being inexplicably missing that entire day after a meeting you had no idea what went on in, it was the only thing you could think about.

No. Now was not the time to think about that.

Fives rested beside you, pulling you into his arms, mimicking that first time you’d shared the bed with one another. “They’re after me,” he mumbled flatly after a minute of silence, his chin jutting against the top of your head as he spoke.

“Because of the chips.” It meant to come out as a question, but you already knew the answer; this whole fucking thing was about those damn chips. Fives didn’t respond right away, instead squeezing your spent body just a little bit tighter in his arms, pressing you further into him. He inhaled deeply, letting the air softly escape from his nostrils.

“Because... I attacked the Chancellor.”

...wh- what?

“You did what?” You attempted to break out of his arms so you could look him in the eyes - to see if he was kidding, but your weak struggling was no match for his enhanced strength. Sighing in defeat, your tone softened, “What happened at that meeting, Fives?”

“Renna... I want to tell you, I just-” A beat. “I would be putting you in danger.”

Rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see your face, you scoffed, “More so than I already am? Fives, I was part of the shit that went down on Kamino. I’m in on this.”

“But you don’t know the extent of just how high up this conspiracy goes, Ren, and it needs to stay that way.” His arms tightened. He was just being protective, you decided, but it wasn’t fair.

“Fives,” you pleaded, grasping onto his thick forearms. You murmured into the air towards the wall beside the bed, “Please tell me. I want to help you. Please.”

“I... have to go soon, Ren.” He sounded unsure - apologetic. Regretful. Nervous.

“...but I don’t think we have the luxury of time right now...”

Fives’ words replayed in your head. You didn’t think anything of it at the time, since he was just about to give you the most intense and intimate pleasure you’d ever known in your life, but it hit you. Tears started forming in your eyes again as the thoughts you had buried deep in the back of your mind made their way to the front at full force. He must’ve heard your quiet sobs as you attempted to muffle them, because in only a moment you were released then flipped to lay on your other side - facing Fives. The feeling of him wiping your tears was all too familiar - a feeling that shouldn’t be familiar, in a perfect galaxy. Would the galaxy ever be perfect?

“Wh-where will you go?” Where will he go? “You’re... a fugitive, Fives.”

“Yeah, I know,” he huffed. “They even got the Corrie Guard after me. I need to find Rex, or- or General Skywalker.”

“Find them... and then what?”

“Explain myself, if they’ll let me. I at least need to try.”

“Fives, what in Maker’s name-”

“Please, trust me. I’ll... be okay.” He broke away from your eyes, staring off at the wall behind you.

That was flat out lie, and you both knew it. You attempted to study his blank expression for a moment before his eyes flickered back to yours.

“When I find Rex I’ll tell him about your involvement. He should be able to keep you safe. I’ll- I’ll come find you after I speak with him, okay?”

“Keep me safe...” You mumbled the words under your breath in pure disbelief; Fives simply nodded in confirmation, a crease resting in between his brows as his gaze bore into yours.

“If Rex hears me out, then he’ll understand. He’s a good man... always willing to do the right thing.” It sounded as though Fives was saying that to himself rather than to you - as a reminder.

You decided to leave it at that, not having enough energy to press his stubborn self any more on the subject. Nuzzling your face into his bare chest, you inhaled deeply - a way to keep his scent in your mind for after he leaves. Fives was warm, both his physical form and his overall energy. Safe. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you further into his comforting warmth. You were on the edge of sleep, eyelids becoming heavy and breathing deepening. You wanted to stay awake, though, to make the most of your time with Fives.

You just weren’t sure if you’d see him again after he goes.

“Just promise me-” He paused, sucking in a clump of air, “Just stay aware of your surroundings, okay? I’m not sure where you’re at with returning to Kamino... but I don’t think you should.”

“Okay,” your voice was barely audible, coming out as a faint mumble muffled against his skin.

That settled it. You would not return to Kamino.

What would you do, though? Are you quitting? What will you do if Fives-

“After I find Rex and the General... there’s no telling what’ll happen. No matter the outcome... I’m not sure what the next steps are. For once, I don’t have a plan, Ren. I’m gonna need your help, but we can talk about that when I come back to you, yeah?” He started to rub smoothing circles on your back, digging deep into your muscles while placing a kiss atop your head and squeezing you tighter. “I’m just... glad you weren’t at that meeting with the Chancellor.”

“Apparently my presence wasn’t requested by the Chancellor,” you mumbled in annoyance, that similar feeling of anger towards the long-neck bubbling up within you. Fives let out a quiet huff in reply, seemingly trying to dodge giving an appropriate response towards your resentful statement. You didn’t expect him to respond; however, you’d just realized that Fives somehow managed to find your apartment during the night, with no explicit directions given to him from you. “How... did you find me? I never told you where I lived.”

He replied with a light chuckle, “Do you not know me by now?” Offering a half-smile he pushed you away from his chest so you could meet his eyes, placing a quick kiss on your damp forehead. “I’ll always find you, Renna.”

***

tags: @deewithani @chromia7567 @threevie @letitrainathousandflames @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @thefact0rygirl @justanothersadperson93 @ohtobeamoth @bvcketfvcker @salty-sith-bitch @iwannaclonetrooper @cyaniderainfall

#djarrex writes #countermeasures series #arc trooper fives #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives x you #arc trooper fives x oc #arc trooper fives smut #fives x reader #fives x you #fives x oc #fives smut #the clone wars fic #star wars fic #the clone wars conspiracy arc #conspiracy arc

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valdomarx · 3 years

Text

La Campanella

McShep + Rodney plays the piano Rodney never could resist a challenge, especially when it’s set by Sheppard.

Atlantis is a place of many wonders, but Rodney's favorite is this:

In a distant part of the northern pier is a short, squat tower which he and Sheppard investigate on a routine patrol.

And in that tower is a large, unassuming room like a lecture hall.

And in the center of the room is an object seven foot long and three feet high, elegant, delicate, and familiar.

“Is that…” Rodney practically runs over to touch it, as reckless as that urge can be in Atlantis, but he knows this isn’t a weapon or a piece of broken technology or some dangerous machine. It’s a thing of beauty.

It’s an instrument remarkably like a piano: white and black reversed, keys slightly different lengths, but the same 12-step configuration making up an octave. Keys which strike strings stretched over a wide frame with soft hammers, and this can’t be a coincidence.

“How... ” he starts, and then he answers his own question. “The Ancients must have invented this instrument and brought the concept with them to Earth. But that would overturn so much musical history they’ll have to rewrite the textbooks, can you even imagine the implications -”

John does not look as fascinated by the profound repercussions of this discovery on the history of western classical music as Rodney is.

He waves questions of history aside and sits on the low stool in front of the keyboard, blowing away the years of accumulated dust. His hands instinctively settle into arches, his wrists loose, and he plays a few simple scales. The notes sound out clear and true, but -

He frowns.

“Something wrong?” Sheppard is leaning over the instrument, studying him and it with interest.

“This is tuned half a tone lower than an Earth piano. Feels a bit weird, that’s all.”

“How do you know that?”

Rodney affects his smuggest smile. “Perfect pitch, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Sheppard says, rolling his eyes.

Rodney looks around the room furtively, keen for reasons he can’t articulate that no one else should observe them, and he starts to play.

It becomes a habit, a place to unwind, somewhere they visit on off hours and in quiet moments.

Today Sheppard is flicking through a golf magazine while Rodney warms up with some Bach. The music is pleasing and orderly, and the sparse, bright notes explode in fractal-like patterns, unfurling and changing and becoming more complex the closer you look.

John tilts his head to one side and says, “You know there’s a whole bunch of classical music on the Atlantis server?”

Rodney grins. He did know that, in fact. Never get between a team of scientists and their file sharing. “I may have heard.”

“I listened to some of the Chopin you like. Then some other piano stuff as well.”

“Yeah?” Rodney picks at a fingernail. Something about the idea of John listening to music just because Rodney likes it makes his heart beat a little faster. “Find anything you liked?”

“A bunch actually. Have you heard of a piece called La Campanella? By a guy named Liszt?"

"Have I…" Has he heard of the single hardest piece in the entire solo piano repertoire? The fact he could never get those double stops right haunts him to this day. "Yeah, it rings a bell."

"I like that one," John says decisively. "It's nice."

Nice??? Sheppard thinks the most epic and demanding piece of all time is nice? Of course he does.

"You should learn to play it," John says casually, like he's suggesting they watch an action movie instead of a scifi.

"I should -" he splutters. "Do you have any idea how difficult that is? It's practically impossible."

John smirks and says, "I thought practically impossible was your specialty?"

Rodney is still spluttering when John throws him a wink and walks out.

And then, because despite being the finest mind in two galaxies, on some level he truly is an idiot, he stretches out his fingers and starts to practice.

It's not like he had copious free time to start with. But he makes space whenever he can to come to the piano room, chipping away at this ludicrous piece, bit by bit, phrase by phrase, over and over and over.

People think that learning to play is artistry, and maybe it is that too, but mostly it's a grind. You keep doing it again and again until you get it right. It's as much about stubbornness as about skill.

And stubbornness is something Rodney McKay has in abundance.

Liszt really was a sadistic old bastard, Rodney thinks sourly as he works on the right hand jumps until his fingers turn to lead.

Sometimes Sheppard comes and sits with him while he practices, and on those days he plays easier pieces, things which are familiar and casual. Not that John seems to pay much attention, but Rodney has the urge to impress him all the same.

He’s always having that urge around John.

He spends an entire week working on his goddamn trill.

It shouldn’t matter and it’s not like anyone will really listen to it. But it seems to represent something important — a sequence of paired adjacent notes, next to each other but never quite touching, bouncing off each other time and time again, a dance of two — though he doesn’t want to examine that too closely.

He doesn’t tell anyone else about the piano. He tells himself that’s because it’s convenient that he doesn’t have to share and can use it whenever he wants.

But really, he likes that it’s his and Sheppard’s; their own tiny secret in this vast and sprawling city.

He hears the piece in his sleep, and on missions, and when he’s working in his lab. It becomes a background hum of his brain, always there, a sort of yearning for the possible, the platonic ideal, the way that things could be.

He tries not to examine that too closely either, though the weight of the realization is becoming harder to ignore.

Eventually the piece is as ready as it's going to be. He scribbles a quick note during a meeting, folds it into a paper airplane, and throws it at Sheppard's head. He hits him right in the temple, and he manages to avoid cheering when Elizabeth glares at him.

I have something to play for you, the note reads. Meet you at 7? You know where. - R

He jots it down without really thinking, and only once he's thrown does it occur to him how soppy it sounds.

John doesn't seem too perturbed though. He smiles down at the note and meets Rodney's eye with a little eyebrow wiggle which Rodney takes to mean, Gonna impress me?

By the time John arrives, Rodney is all warmed up and more nervous than he's ever been about a performance. His heart is racing, and when John gives him a fond look and says, "Hey," it trips even faster.

Once he settles in to play though, there's a certain kind of mental clarity that settles over him. His hands know how to do this, he just has to sit back and let them.

His wrists are still tense as he sounds out the first few bars and then, all at once, he relaxes into it and lets the music carry him. Hours of repetition have made every chord, every melody, every insane and unreasonable jump into something almost effortless. He even forgets John is there: there’s only him, and the piano, and the music.

The music builds and builds, each section becoming more and more ornamented, more complex, more physically demanding, all at a relentless pace that sends most players reeling. But he's got this, he can do this, it turns out all he needed was a bit of motivation.

The penultimate section is his favorite: The technical parts are done and here he can throw himself into the wild, over the top glory of the final melody. And perhaps he shows off a little bit, catching John's eye and grinning at him, but that's all part of the fun.

The piece ends with a crashing, massive finale that makes him feel like a virtuoso, and then in a last few epic chords it's done, as tight and perfect a five minutes as you could wish for.

The final chord reverberates on and on through the stillness of the room, glowing out beyond the city and into the night.

"Wow." John's eyes are wide. "That was great."

Rodney preens, because that ineloquent little comment somehow means more to him than an auditorium full of ecstatic applause. Having John look at him like that makes the months of practice worth it.

"You liked it?" He's fishing for compliments, but he figures he's earned it.

"I did," John says, staring at Rodney's hands like they hold the secrets to the universe.

He looks up and blushes at having been caught staring. Then he deflects and shrugs one shoulder. “Honestly, though, it’s not my favorite piano piece.”

Rodney narrows his eyes. He has the distinct impression he’s been played. “What was your favorite then?”

"I prefer Songs Without Words."

"Mendelssohn?" he explodes. "You wanted Mendelssohn? Jesus Christ, I learned to play that when I was eight!"

John grins. "I appreciate simplicity in music."

"Then why on earth did you make me learn Liszt?!"

John has this joyous, manic light in his eyes, like he's having the time of his life here, messing around with Rodney, of all the things he could be doing. "I like watching you do impossible things."

He sucks in a breath. "I hate you."

"No you don't." John leans in, smug and delighted, and oh, Rodney is so in love with this ridiculous, infuriating man that he could burst. "You learned La Campanella for me."

"It wasn't that hard," he says quickly, because he has a reputation to maintain here. But John laughs and gives him this soft, teasing look, one eyebrow quirked at a ridiculous angle beneath the chaotic mess of his hair, and Rodney is defenseless.

"Whatever you say, McKay," John says, and Rodney has the feeling he sees straight through him. "Now play it again."

#mcshep #stargate atlantis #my writing #where my fellow classical music nerds at this one is for you

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wheresmynaya · 3 years

Text

Hate to Date Ch.6 | Brittana

A/N - Exciting news, we're out of lockdown and I'm back to work. Not exciting news, I’m back to work LOL. As always, thanks for the reviews and those who have bought a coffee for me through ko-fi! Both instantly make my day & encourage me to keep up with these weekly updates so I really appreciate it!💙

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

It takes a whole ten seconds after Brittany closes the car door behind her before Puck’s hitting Santana with a barrage of questions. Santana does her best to ignore them because she knows Puck’s been dying to hear about their trip, but Brittany hasn’t even pulled her suitcase from the trunk yet and she can totally hear them still.

“Aren’t you going to help her or something?” Santana asks instead.

“Aren’t you? You’re her girlfriend.”

“You’re the guy. Isn’t lifting things meant to be your specialty?”

Puck narrows his eyes, “That’s not very girl power of you.”

Santana just huffs her way out of the car, but by the time she gets around Brittany’s already got her suitcase out. The blonde gives her a questioning look as Santana lingers by the trunk.

“I was coming to see if you needed help,” Santana explains.

Brittany chuckles, “Little late for that.”

Santana feels her face flush with embarrassment. Damn Puck making her look like an idiot.

“Besides, I’ve seen how you are around a suitcase,” Brittany smirks. “Probably best if I do the heavy lifting.”

“Nice one!” Puck calls out.

When Santana turns to flick him off, she finds that he’s halfway hanging out of the driver’s side window watching with interest. Brittany only laughs as she pulls the handle up on her luggage.

“You’re both dicks,” Santana grumbles as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“I mean, she’s not wrong though?” Puck reasons.

Santana just cuts him with a steely glare and that shuts him up real quick.

“Anyway, it’s been fun. Thanks for the ride again, Puck,” Brittany says before turning to Santana. “And I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Santana nods, “Yeah. Same time, same place.”

“I’ll remember you said that,” Brittany quips before waving goodbye and heading inside her apartment complex.

Puck’s still hanging out the driver’s side window looking back and forth between Santana and Brittany’s door with a slack jaw. Santana rolls her eyes at him as she pulls open the passenger door.

“What’s happening tomorrow?” He asks eagerly.

Santana sighs, “Can you just get in the car? You’re too damn big to be hanging out there like that.”

The reluctance to answer has Puck acting even more giddy. It’s a classic Santana tactic: deflect and insult. Puck listens anyway though and gets himself inside where Santana busies herself with buckling up.

“So what’s happening tomorrow?” Puck asks again.

“We’re working on that assignment together for Prof Martinez’s class,” Santana finally answers. “Because someone decided to fuck around with the teams now I have to actually spend time with her instead of lie about it.”

“Oh, boring,” Puck frowns and goes to start the car.

Santana looks back curiously, “What’d you think we were doing?”

Puck starts to smirk.

Santana scrunches her nose, “Actually, nevermind. I don’t want to know.”

“I’m just joking!” Puck laughs. “But seriously, will you tell me about your trip now? I was a little nervous that one of you wouldn’t be coming back.”

“What? Why?”

Puck shrugs, “I don’t know because you hate each other?”

Santana pauses, “I don’t know if hate’s the right word anymore.”

“You’d probably trick her into boarding the wrong plane or something. Is that not hate?”

Santana smirks, “Now that would’ve been funny.”

“See?”

Santana shakes her head, “I don’t know. She still frustrates the hell out of me and I find a lot of things she does super annoying, but to say I hate her doesn’t really fit anymore.”

Puck looks at her curiously, “You feeling okay? Did you finally get your heart back from Lima?”

Santana laughs, “You know Lima doesn’t have it.”

Puck chuckles along with her, “Well something big must’ve happened there if you’re changing your tune like this.”

“It’s nothing like that,” Santana replies. “I guess – I don’t know – I understand Brittany a little more? That doesn’t mean we’re going to braid each other’s hair anytime soon.”

“Right. What about your fam? How’d they feel about her?”

“We did what we were supposed to do. Mom likes her, Abuela not so much.”

“Shit,” Puck cringes.

“Yeah. It’ll work out though,” Santana answers. “This was a good start, we just need to put more time into it. I’m getting into that firm.”

“Hell yeah, you are!”

“In the meantime though, I’ve gotta up my game,” Santana says. “I can’t have people thinking Brittany’s a better girlfriend than me.”

Puck quirks his brow, “And how are you gonna do that?”

“Well after spending all this time with Brittany, I’ve learned me two things,” Santana smirks. “She’s a pushover and she’s a total sucker for the romantic shit, like the kind of shit that’s in movies. You know, real cliché stuff. Just look at the stuff she does for me.”

“Okay?”

“I just have to do it better than her,” Santana says simply, “I have to be thoughtful and sweet and take her by surprise. I’ve gotta be one step ahead at all times! And maybe I can embarrass the crap out of her in the process? It’s a win/win for me.”

Puck looks skeptic, but Santana’s already crafting her game plan.

Santana spends all night watching cheesy rom-coms just to get some inspiration, because as it turns out – she’s not really familiar with romantic gestures. She’s never really needed them because hooking up isn’t about romance and that’s how she likes it. But this fake relationship thing is really pushing her out of her comfort zone – good thing it’s all an act.

Puck joins Santana after getting back from weight training and together they make a list of all the possible ways Santana can fake-woo Brittany. Puck jots down a couple ideas for himself, lord knows he needs all the help he can get!

The only downside of a rom-com marathon is that most of the movies are predominately straight and Santana struggles to relate. Meanwhile, Puck’s trying to hide the fact that he’s tearing up during certain scenes.

Despite the string hetero content, Puck does end up getting his hands on a bootleg copy of Imagine Me and You. Now it’s Santana’s turn to pretend she’s not tearing up and Puck wastes no time in teasing her about it.

Santana decides she’s going start off slow with something simple; bringing Brittany snacks for when they study together later on. Where it lacks in romance, it makes up for in thoughtfulness so Santana’s sure it’ll be a winner.

She’s already stopped off somewhere on her way to cheer practice to get what she needs just incase she runs late again. At least if Coach Roz goes on another rant again, Santana will meet Brittany bearing gifts.

It’s a pretty perfect plan, but what Santana doesn’t expect is to find Brittany waiting outside of the gym for her. Apparently, the blonde had a similar idea in mind and has beaten Santana to the punch.

Not with snacks, but with something much more valuable.

“Uh hey,” Santana eyes her hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”

Brittany lifts the cup in her hand, “I got you this.”

“You got me a coffee?”

“Yeah, I was in the area and I knew you’d be coming here for practice.”

Santana’s brows furrow, “Did Puck put you up to this?”

Brittany frowns, “What?”

“Nevermind,” Santana shakes her head and moves closer to take the cup. She stares down at the lid and looks to Brittany, “What is it?”

“Coffee?” Brittany answers. “Strong and as black as your heart.”

“Just how I like it,” Santana lies as she masks her disappointment.

She braces herself for the bitter taste, hoping her facial expression doesn’t give her away. Surprisingly though, it tastes nothing like she expected it to – it’s sweet, just like she actually likes it.

Brittany starts to smirk, “Plus a box of sugar and bunch of milk.”

“How’d you know?” Santana asks. “I pay the barista extra to keep her mouth shut.”

“She did, but I’ve seen the inside of your purse,” Brittany chuckles. “It’s nothing but sugar packets and tiny creamers. Plus I’ve spent the last couple of mornings with you, I’ve noticed things.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Who knew this leather-jacket-wearing badass cheerleader secretly likes her coffee super sweet?”

“Exactly. It doesn’t fit the aesthetic,” Santana brushes off. “I can’t have that little detail about me getting out. What would people think?”

Brittany quirks a brow, “Do you really care that much about that?”

“Don’t you?” Santana says simply.

Brittany shrugs, “It’s just coffee. So what?”

Santana pauses. Sometimes Brittany can make the hardest things sound so simple and Santana can’t tell if it’s because Brittany’s naïve or Santana’s just so used to overcomplicating things. It doesn’t matter, she’s not getting into it right now.

“Thanks for this,” Santana replies. “I’ll see you after practice.”

Brittany bites her lip as she nods, “Yeah okay. See you later.”

Despite having a duffle bag full of all kinds of snacks, Santana holds off for the time being. It’s too close to Brittany’s little act of kindness and she can’t have the blonde thinking that she’s inspired Santana’s gesture.

So, she waits a few more days because timing is also important. Being surprised with snacks doesn’t mean a thing if you’ve just ate, so Santana keeps that in mind as she falls back into her usual routine of classes, cheer practice and studying.

The opportunity doesn’t arise until the following week.

Apparently one of Brittany’s classes has a test scheduled at the end of the week and it has the blonde stressed out more than usual. Santana only knows because Puck mentioned something about Brittany rescheduling a tutoring session which rarely happens.

So Santana thinks it’s finally her time to shine and really show off how thoughtful she can be!

As Santana makes her way inside the library with her bag full of goodies, there’s this big grin on her face because not only is she going to show Brittany she’s got some competition on the best girlfriend front there’s also quite the crowd around.

Again, it’s a win/win for Santana!

She finds Brittany in her usual spot at the back of the study area and makes her way over. Students studying at the various tables around watch as Santana saunters down the aisle in her cheer uniform. Santana can hear the whispers starting up and tries to keep from smirking at how good this is going to make her look.

“Hey,” Santana greets once she gets to Brittany’s table.

Brittany’s taken by complete surprise as she looks up. Santana can tell because the usual confidence is no where to be found, in it’s place is astonishment.

“Uh hi,” Brittany finally greets. “What are you doing here? Is it 3:30 already?”

“No. I was just in the neighborhood,” Santana shrugs as she takes a seat in front of Brittany. “Thought you might need a little afternoon snack break.”

Brittany looks questioningly until Santana starts pulling out various treats she knows Brittany loves. There’s a theater box of DOTS, a packet of Goldfish, a Mounds bar, and a few other goodies that are the healthier side.

“Awh, that’s so cute!” A girl from the table beside them coos before turning to her partner. “Where the hell are my snacks?”

The guy just frowns at Santana, “Thanks a lot.”

“Step your game up,” Santana tells him before turning back to Brittany. There’s a pleased smile on her face but she wants to hear it from Brittany herself, “You like?”

Brittany’s hesitant to answer but when she does, she can’t help but smile, “I like. I actually forgot my lunch today so this is perfect.”

Santana pumps her fist triumphantly before realizing people are still staring.

“You know, how long I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to give you all this stuff?” Santana admits. “I felt like a hoarder having to hide them in my room so Puck wouldn’t eat them.”

Brittany chuckles, “I don’t know how I’ll be able to top this.”

Santana smirks; that’s exactly what she likes to hear.

“Woah, who hit the jackpot?” Puck says, surprising the both of them as he comes up to the table.

“Jesus! Where’d you come from?” Santana gasps. “You know this is the library, right?”

“Yes,” Puck rolls his eyes. “I was studying with some guys from the team since Britt cancelled on me but I see why she did now.”

“Oh no, I didn’t know she was coming here,” Brittany explains quickly.

“It was a surprise,” Santana says proudly.

Pucks brows rise as he reaches for one of Brittany’s snacks, but Santana’s quick to swat at his hand.

“Paws off,” She tells him. “I got that for her, not you.”

“Damn chill,” Puck frowns as he holds his hand.

Brittany only chuckles at the pair, “Thanks for this. It’s been a much needed interruption but I do have to get back to studying.”

“Oh yeah, sure!” Santana nods as she goes to stand. She looks around to see if people are still watching and starts to grin when she finds that they are. “I’ll just be at practice, but let me know if you need anything else.”

“Okay,” Brittany smiles back.

“And I’ll just be over there,” Puck adds as he heads back to his table leaving Santana alone with Brittany.

“Thanks for the brain food,” Brittany mentions again. “Very sweet of you.”

Santana only shrugs although there’s a bashful smile on her face, “You know me, super thoughtful.”

“Uh-huh,” Brittany smirks before pulling her down gently for a kiss on the cheek. It takes Santana by surprise a little, but Brittany’s lips linger by Santana’s ear as she says. “I know you’re just trying to work the crowd. You’re not fooling me.”

Santana eyes go wide but she keeps a poker face, “Can’t have them thinking you’re the best girlfriend around.”

“Can’t help it if it’s true,” Brittany chuckles before letting Santana go. In a much louder voice she waves goodbye, “See you later, Fluffbottom!”

Santana pastes on a fake smile, but she can’t exit the building fast enough. The cringey terms of endearment are such a low blow!

With Brittany onto Santana’s little plan, the blonde starts to up her game too. Over the next couple of weeks, the two go back and forth just trying to one up the other in romantic gestures. They sort of make a game out of who can pull the biggest awh from the spectators that always flock the couple.

Currently, the score is pretty even but Brittany’s never too far behind.

Santana doesn’t get it, but she tries harder anyway.

The next time Brittany decides to show Santana that she’s always one step ahead of her, it’s during one of the basketball games Santana cheers for. At first, Santana didn’t even notice her in the crowd because when has Brittany ever come to a sporting event?

In fact, it’s probably the last place she’d ever expect to see Brittany.

And yet, there she is…waving eagerly with Puck by her side to get her attention.

“Awh! Santana, your girlfriend’s here to watch you cheer!” One of the girls on Santana’s squad coos. “That is so cute!”

“Yeah,” Santana answers as she keeps her eye narrowed on Brittany. “Real cute.”

It’s not until after the halftime performance that Santana’s able to make her way over to Brittany for the first time since spotting her. There’s this smug grin on the blonde’s face and Santana struggles to keep from rolling her eyes at the sight of it. She just knows Brittany’s mentally adding a point to their ongoing tally.

As Santana reaches the bottom of the bleachers, Brittany’s about halfway down the steps. Puck’s not too far behind, his entire face painted in white and Columbia blue for the occasion.

“Well this is a surprise,” Santana says once she’s close enough. “You never come to these things.”

“That’s because I’ve never dated a cheerleader before,” Brittany quips.

“I invited her,” Puck admits.

Santana looks between the two of them skeptically, “I get why Puck’s here, but you? Do you secretly like women’s basketball or something?”

Brittany shakes her head, “I don’t know a thing about it.”

“Then why are you here?” Santana questions.

“Like I said, you’re my reason.”

If anyone else was listening in, they might’ve found Brittany’s statement a little cute. Maybe if Brittany wasn’t Brittany, Santana might’ve found it cute too but she knows the blonde’s true motives. She knows she’s just trying to work the crowd so it rolls right over Santana’s head.

Instead, she looks from Brittany to Puck.

“I’m starting to question where your loyalties lie, Puckerman,” Santana tells him.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t think she’d actually say yes! I was just being nice.”

His hands are instantly thrown up in defense.

“Uh-huh.”

“He didn’t do anything. I was already thinking of coming,” Brittany interrupts with a sweet smile. “I figured I might as well add supportive girlfriend to the long list of things I’m great at and this was the perfect opportunity.”

Santana laughs off the jab, “Perfect girlfriend my ass.”

“I think it was pretty smart thinking on my part,” Brittany replies as she nods over to the entryway. “Did you know Eddie would be here?”

Santana glances in the coach’s direction and does her best to hide the fact that she forgot all about him possibly being around. “Duh. Of course he’d be here, he comes to most games.”

“Guess I should start coming to most games too then,” Brittany suggests. “Keep up appearances.”

Santana hates that Brittany’s got a point. Now’s about the time Santana would move on to the next girl and Eddie’s sure to be taking note so he can report back to Maribel. Damn Brittany and her quick thinking!

“Sure whatever,” Santana brushes off. “I need to get back. I hope you enjoy the rest of show.”

“I’ll try,” Brittany smirks before lifting the book in her hand. “I’ve got this just incase.”

“You brought a book to read at a game?” Santana tries not to laugh. “Can you at least try not being so nerdy? It’s hard to pretend to like you if you’re making it so easy for me to make fun of you.”

Brittany sighs through her smile, “It’s only a precaution incase I get bored.”

“Bored? Our performances aren’t boring,” Santana tells her. “What’s boring about a full twisted layout?”

Brittany only shrugs, “I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s a dope move that requires skill and talent.”

“So something you can’t do?” Brittany smirks.

Santana fakes a laugh, “You’re so funny.”

“What about the skirts? You like them, right?” Puck suddenly asks Brittany, still hung up on finding the games boring.

Santana nods along with him, “Everyone likes the skirts.”

Brittany’s eyes rake up Santana’s lithe frame slowly while Santana poses.

If there’s anything Santana’s more confident in, it’s her looks. She’s hot and she knows she’s hot, it’s not even about being conceited it’s pure fact. That combined with the power of a cheerleading uniform has never failed her, so it’s only a matter of time before Brittany’s admitting defeat.

When their eyes finally meet, there’s a smug grin on Santana’s face but Brittany is expressionless.

“It’s okay,” Brittany tells them with indifference.

Puck’s jaw drops, he’s practically besides himself with the news, while Santana only stares. She might not be able to read Brittany most of the time, but what she has become good at is noticing a blatant lie.

And it’s okay is one of them.

It’s like Santana’s finally found a weakness in Brittany’s front because why lie about it? If you think someone’s hot then say so, it’s no big deal – at least, to her it’s not. You don’t have to like people that you find attractive, clearly, so what’s Brittany’s deal?

Maybe it’s the lack of flirtatious banter or the build up of sex deprivation, but testing Brittany’s willpower sparks Santana’s interest and gets her thinking of a slightly better game.

“So this does nothing for you?” Santana asks again with a little shake of her hips.

In all of her years as a cheerleader, she’s never met anyone who could resist. Even without the uniform, Santana’s just got this confidence about her – this undeniable sexual magnetism – that kind of makes her irresistible.

Like she’s always said, she can’t help that she’s attractive. It truly is a gift.

Even Puck looks to Brittany for an answer. Funny thing though, Brittany doesn’t take the bait. Instead, she just maintains eye contact with Santana – unyielding and a little unnerving.

“Honey,” Brittany says sweetly. “If you’re looking for someone to drool over you keep looking.”

“Wow,” Santana laughs. “Some girlfriend you are!”

“I’m not that shallow,” Brittany quips. “I don’t care about what you wear. I’m more interested in your heart.”

“God,” Santana scrunches her nose. “Who knew you were such a cornball.”

“I thought you’d like that,” Brittany chuckles. “But seriously, you can’t distract me with a short skirt.”

“I’ll remember you said that,” Santana challenges with a smirk.

Looks like Brittany’s a harder one to crack than she thought.

Thankfully though the odds are in still Santana’s favor because what holiday is only weeks away now?

Valentine’s Day.

And it’s never too early to start the scheming! Santana’s been going pretty soft in the weeks following the game Brittany surprised her at, but it was all for a purpose. She’s letting Brittany create a false sense of security, she’s letting her think she’s totally got this in the bag. And when Brittany least expects it, BAM! Santana will pull out all the stops!

That’ll definitely put an end to the Brittany’s so thoughtful, Santana you’re so lucky! The roles will totally be reversed and that’s the ultimate win – another she can add to her figurative trophy shelf!

And although Santana won’t be getting laid this year, which is so depressing, the thought of being dubbed the best girlfriend ever over Brittany is pretty up there.

So when Valentine’s week finally rolls around, Santana’s as eager as ever. She has the heart-shaped chocolates, she has the cute stuffed animal in it’s little red bowtie, but most importantly – she has the outfit.

And the outfit is everything.

“Woah,” Puck skids to a stop when he finds Santana in their kitchen dressed in her short candy striper dress. “Where are you going looking like that?”

Santana smirks as she finishes off her breakfast, “I’m going to see Brittany.”

“Dressed like that?”

“Yup.”

Puck tears his eyes away and looks at Santana like she’s crazy. “You know she’s in class, right? Not camped out a strip club.”

Santana brushes him off, “Obviously. It’s all apart of the plan.”

“What plan?” Puck laughs, “Give the girl a heart attack?”

“Sort of,” Santana starts grinning devilishly. “I’m gonna break her.”

Puck rolls his eyes, “This about the skirt thing again?”

“Yes!” Santana groans. “Don’t you think it’s weird that Brittany won’t admit that she finds me attractive?”

“Maybe she doesn’t.”

Santana eyes him like he’s lost his mind.

“Impossible,” She says.

Puck shakes his head, “This is trouble. You know that right?”

“It’s just a game between friends.”

“But you two aren’t friends,” Puck laughs as he makes a coffee.

“Shit. You’re right,” Santana pauses to think before shrugging. “Well then this is purely for my enjoyment. I haven’t had sex in like a month or made out with a hot stranger. I’m not allowed to flirt with anyone because technically I’m taken. The only joy I have left is being better than Brittany and or embarrassing the hell out of her so just let me have this.”

“Do whatever you want, Lopez.”

“Thank you,” Santana smiles angelically. She reaches for her basket of Valentine’s Day goodies, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go make some jaws drop.”

Puck only lifts his mug of coffee in salute as his best friend leaves.

So far, Santana’s outfit works like a charm. She kind of missed the way heads would roll for her whenever she walked by. She doesn’t really get that anymore with a girlfriend around and god, has she missed this attention! With Brittany, the compliments are all for show so it doesn’t really do anything for her but this – the helpless bystanders she leaves drooling in her wake?

There’s nothing fake about that.

Now when it comes to making her entrance, Santana’s a little merciful.

At first, she considered interrupting the class but she knows by now Brittany wouldn’t like that too much since she’s the biggest nerd she’s ever met and takes class super seriously. So instead, Santana waits in the hall until class finishes up. It’s an even better plan than the first because not only will she take Brittany by surprise, she’ll have an audience too without the threat of a professor telling her off for an interruption.

Santana counts the minutes, eagerly awaiting the class’s dismissal.

As the first few students start trickling out, Santana moves to stand taller – ready for showtime. There’s a sultry look on her face – one that’s been known to make knees go weak – as Brittany finally makes an appearance.

This time, Brittany’s the one taken by surprise; so much so that she does a double take when she sees Santana standing there.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Santana greets in a seductive tone.

It takes a second for Brittany to answer, her eyes struggling to stay on Santana’s. The brunette’s already taking this as a big win.

“It’s…not Valentine’s Day yet,” Brittany finally replies although she’s still visibly stunned.

“I figure I’d start early,” Santana flirts shamelessly with a soft touch to Brittany’s arm. “My girl should get a week’s worth of Valentine’s fun. Don’t you think?”

Brittany gulps, “Well…I was sort of waiting until the day to give you my gift.”

Santana smirks; she swears sweat is starting to bead around Brittany’s brow. The will power is definitely strong though, Santana can give her that!

“That’s okay,” Santana bites her lip seductively. “I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait.”

Brittany’s eyes flicker to Santana’s lips then back to meet her eyes. Something flashes in those dazzling blues and it’s like a trance has been broken. Brittany moves to stand a little straighter, her hands falling to Santana’s hips – strong and sure – as she begins to match Santana’s smirk.

“It’ll be so worth it,” Brittany flirts just as shamelessly which makes Santana falter. “Although, I don’t have anything like this is my wardrobe.”

“Only a select few have been able to pull it off,” Santana replies.

“I bet,” Brittany comments. “Looks like a lot of laces and buttons to get around.”

Santana falters again; she didn’t expect Brittany to take her words so literally but it kind of does something to her. It gives the slightest tug to something growing restless within her. But she shakes it off, keeps her eye on the prize.

“It’s quite time consuming. Have to be good with your hands,” Santana tells her.

Brittany cheeks go a little red at that and Santana quickly capitalizes on the moment.

“On top of the goodies I’ve brought, I also have these,” Santana says as she lifts her little basket. “Chocolates, every heart-shaped candy I could find, a teddy bear…”

“Looks like you’ve really outdone yourself,” Brittany notes with a peek into Santana’s basket. “How will I ever top this?”

There’s the slightest bit of sarcasm there, but Santana smirks anyway.

“You know…that’s the second time I’ve heard you say that. You might want to admit defeat while you still can.”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “You’re playing a dangerous game, Santana.”

“That’s the only kind of game I like to play.”

Brittany quirks her brow, “Okay.”

Santana wavers, “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Brittany chuckles.

“But – “

“I really have to get to my next class,” Brittany explains as she takes Santana’s basket while pressing a kiss to her cheek. “This was cute though.”

Cute? Puppies are cute. Kittens are cute. Hell, some babies are kind of cute. But this? Santana wasn’t going for cute. She was aiming higher than that! Much, much higher!

“Wait,” Santana calls out just as Brittany’s take a few steps down the hall.

Brittany turns, looking back at her expectantly.

“You’re talking about the basket right?” Santana asks, “The basket is cute?”

Brittany sighs tiredly although the smile is still there. Her eyes dip down to Santana’s exposed legs, that short, ruffled skirt, the corset and the amazing things it does to her cleavage then back up again.

“The outfit’s not bad too,” Brittany tells her with a smirk before turning away.

Not bad, Santana thinks. It’s not the statement she would’ve gone with but it’s a step up from cute so she’ll take it. The expression on Brittany’s face when she first saw Santana was way better though.

Santana spends the rest of Valentine’s week doing cute little things here and there, but she kind of regrets starting off so strong with the outfit when the actual day comes.

It’s so typical of her to jump straight to the knockout punch instead of doing things slow and steady. She’s never had the patience for that and it’s biting her in the ass now, because all she has left up her sleeve is this giant heart-shaped balloon that she made Puck buy the night before and a bouquet of flowers.

She’s just hoping the simplicity of it is enough to get a good reaction out of the crowd, because walking towards their first class of the day together with a big ass balloon is already turning some heads. Not in the way heads turned for her on Monday, but hey – at least she has range.

When she finally does reach the lecture hall, it’s no surprise that Brittany’s already seated inside.

“Really Santana?” Professor Martinez sighs when Santana struggles to get the balloon through the door. “Don’t you think that’s a little distracting?”

“You know what else is distracting?” Santana quips as she sets her eyes on Brittany. “The adoration I have for my girlfriend.”

“Here we go,” Professor Martinez laughs. “I almost like it better when you two were constantly fighting.”

Santana brushes him off as she makes her way to Brittany, “This is for you.”

Brittany looks up at her reflection in the shiny red of the giant balloon, “Of course it is.”

“And also these,” Santana then presents Brittany with the bouquet. “I went with something a little out of the ordinary, you know, thinking outside of the box. I know how much you appreciate – “

“I’m allergic to sunflowers.”

Santana’s heart drops, “What?”

“Yeah,” Brittany leans back. “Deathly allergic.”

“Shit,” Santana instantly jolts away from her but Brittany starts to laugh. “Wait, seriously?”

“No, not seriously,” Brittany giggles as she accepts the gifts. “Who’s allergic to sunflowers?”

“Uh, I don’t know!” Santana frowns. “I’m sure someone out there is.”

Brittany quiets down, “Sorry. That was a little mean.”

Santana shakes her head as she takes the seat beside Brittany.

“And people say I’m mean,” She says.

Brittany leans over and kisses her cheek, “I don’t think anyone says that.”

Santana lets out a laugh, “You say that.”

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” Brittany shrugs. “Anyway, since we’re doing gifts already I can take you to part one of yours after class?”

“Part one?”

“Mhmm,” Brittany hums. “It should be ready by then. Part two needs a little more time.”

Santana gets to thinking what Brittany could possibly have planned, but Professor Martinez interrupts with the beginning of his lecture. Once again, Santana’s lack of patience has her completely distracted all class.

“It’s in the art wing?” Santana questions as she follows after Brittany who has been tight-lipped since the end of class.

“Looks that way,” Brittany chuckles. “You’ll find out soon enough if you just quit asking questions.”

“I can’t help that I’m impatient.”

“Sure you can.”

Santana sighs and continues following Brittany until they reach their destination just a few minutes later. It’s a narrow hallway with a line of wooden doors and they’re stopped at the very first one.

“It’s in there?” Santana asks.

“Yup,” Brittany grins. “I’ll have to blindfold you though.”

“Kinky,” Santana smirks.

Brittany blushes through an eye roll, “Just turn around so I can put this on you.”

Santana continues joking as she turns for her, “I should’ve known, the quiet ones are always the kinkiest.”

“I’m not quiet,” Brittany replies as she tightens the blindfold around Santana’s head.

“I mean,” Santana snickers, “Just wanky.”

“Can you see anything?”

“Obviously not.”

“Perfect,” Brittany says and takes Santana by the hand.

Santana can hear the door creak open and she’s instantly hit with the scent of flowers. The blindfold’s kind of pointless now because the floral aroma gives away the surprise almost instantly, but just as she’s about to say something – Brittany pushes her to sit down.

Now, Santana’s been blindfolded a handful of times in her life. Santana’s also been pushed to sit down a handful of times in her life too. The combination of the two - historically for her – has lead to some pretty steamy times.

Obviously that won’t be the case here, but God does she wish it were.

The thought makes her wonder if it would matter if the person on the other side of that blindfold was still Brittany, but she doesn’t get to come up with an answer as the blindfold is soon pulled off.

Santana blinks at the sudden bright light to find that she’s surrounded by flowers. Like, a ton of them! They’re in buckets, in pots, in glass vases and in…red solo cups?

“I ran out of space,” Brittany comments when she notices Santana looking confused.

“Right,” Santana breathes out and as she turns to admire the entire room she’s even more surprised by what else she sees – a bunch of people staring back at her through a glass window.

That’s when she realizes that Brittany’s led her to an art display case, a display case that nearly everyone in the entire building walks by on their way to and from class. Santana quickly plasters on a smile while she’s on display in front of the crowd as Brittany comes to wrap an arm around her.

“Didn’t think you were the only one with a few tricks up her sleeve, huh?” Brittany whispers through her smirk.

“How’d you even get access to this case?” Santana wonders. “Don’t you have to book them like three months in advance?”

“I know a guy,” Brittany teases. “Now wave to our audience. They’re all here to witness this, they’ve known about it all week.”

Santana fights the eyeroll and waves, “You know, just because you fill a room full of flowers doesn’t mean you win this.”

“They’re not just any flowers though. I did my research,” Brittany defends. “They’re the lesbians of flowers.”

Santana looks around the room and deadpans, “Oh wow.”

“Didn’t know that was a thing, did you?”

“I can’t say that I did, no.”

“Just wait until part two of your gift,” Brittany tells her.

Santana looks back at her hesitantly, “When’s that gonna be?”

Brittany begins to smirk, “When you least expect it.”

Yeah, Santana’s really regretting starting off the week strong now.

When you least expect it ends up meaning later that day during Santana’s cheer practice.

They’re out on the field for training because Coach Roz loves reminding everyone how much of a privilege it is to be able to practice in a heated gym. Apparently when she trained for the Olympics, their gym didn’t have heating so now once a month they train without heating too.

With it being the middle of February in New York, it’s fucking cold. Santana’s past complaining about her tits freezing off and is now just trying to get the hell out of there as fast as she can now that practice is finally over.

She almost gets away with it too, until all the lights in the stadium suddenly turn on causing everyone to stop and look around.

Santana’s been on edge ever since the whole Lesbians of Flowers incident took place earlier in the day, so she eyes her surroundings suspiciously – waiting for Brittany to fall from the sky dressed like cupid or something ridiculous and over the top.

What she doesn’t expect is to see the school’s Glee Club take the stands with Brittany leading them.

“Oh no,” Santana mumbles as microphone feedback echoes throughout the field. “She better not.”

“Attention all Lions,” Brittany’s voice booms over the loud speaker. “As a final Valentine’s Day treat, I’ve enlisted some friends to help me dedicate a little song to my favorite person ever.”

Santana’s face suddenly feels red hot. She barely feels the cold February air now as everyone turns to look at her. If there’s anything that embarrasses her more, it’s being serenaded in public – especially without any alcohol involved.

“This one’s for you, Sweet Cheeks!” Brittany says before the Glee Club starts up with their harmonizing.

As soon as they start singing Britney Spears’ (You Drive Me) Crazy, Santana doesn’t know whether to laugh or take offence. The song choice is actually kind of perfect for them in the literal sense as Santana gets to listening to the lyrics.

Obviously not every line is accurate, but Santana finds herself giggling as the performance goes on. Brittany’s totally feeling it though; dancing along with the Glee Clubbers in her own way although she looks so out of place next to their bland, choreographed steps.

She actually ends up dancing down the bleachers and Santana eagerly awaits a misstep, but it never happens. Leave it to Brittany to be able to dance down bleacher steps while other people usually struggle coming down the things normally.

Slightly out of breath, Brittany skips over to Santana with the smuggest grin yet.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” She says.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Santana replies.

“What’d you think about my part two?” Brittany nods over to the performance still going on.

“Definitely not what I had in mind,” Santana chuckles.

“I’ve paid them to repeat the performance until I give them a signal.”

“Give the signal now then,” Santana urges with a laugh.

“No way, I love this song!” Brittany starts to shimmy her shoulders, “Picked it out myself, you know. Britney’s kind of iconic.”

“Brittany likes Britney,” Santana quips. “Why am I not surprised?”

The blonde rolls her eyes, “You can go ahead admit defeat now.”

“I’ll be doing no such thing,” Santana crosses her arms. “Game’s not over until I say it is and since public humiliation is apparently on the table – “

“A sing-o-gram is hardly public humiliation,” Brittany argues.

“Maybe if they weren’t tone deaf losers then sure.”

Brittany puts a hand on her hip, “That was mean.”

“Just keeping it real,” Santana shrugs. “But seriously. Make them stop.”

Brittany sighs, “Fine.”

Suddenly, she takes Santana in her arms and dips her. A kiss lands on her cheek but to everyone else still watching them it looks as if it’s made contact with Santana’s lips. Santana hangs onto Brittany’s jacket for dear life, just hoping that the girl doesn’t drop her.

She doesn’t and soon Santana’s being stood upright again. The smug grin is back again as blue eyes sparkle with mischief.

“That was your signal?” Santana questions when she realizes the singing finally stopped.

Brittany shrugs, “Felt like it fit the moment.”

“Didn’t think it was a little dramatic?”

“My adoration for you is a little dramatic,” Brittany quips.

Santana just shakes her head and laughs. She knows just what to do to give Brittany a taste of her own medicine. Like the blonde, Santana just has to wait until she least expects it.

The moment happens to arise a couple weeks later when Puck mentions something about Brittany inviting him to some big Brainiacs’ match.

“I can’t go though,” Puck tells Santana. “Got a hot date.”

“Right,” Santana replies – the gears already turning.

“You busy?” He asks. “Maybe you can go instead?”

Santana smirks, “I’m one step ahead of you.”

It’s pretty short notice, but Santana acts fast in gathering her necessary supplies. The pure embarrassment she felt on Valentine’s Day fuels her as she breaks out the posterboard and markers. She even takes it a step further and scours Brittany’s social media for some headshots, anything that won’t go all pixelated on fabric. She narrows it down to a select few and gets to work. In all her years as a cheerleader, Santana’s become well acquainted with showing a little spirit and her decorating skills are on point!

When the night of the match finally comes, Santana arrives to the building in her freshly bedazzled t-shirt donning pictures of Brittany’s face along side a giant Number One Nerd as well as a poster decorated in a similar fashion. There’s no denying who Brittany’s number one fan truly is.

“Santana!” Tina greets her at the entrance. “Hi! This is a first. Oh wow, I love your shirt!”

“Just being a supportive girlfriend,” Santana grins – loving the publicity she’ll be sure to get with Tina around. “I never get a chance to go to Brittany’s matches with cheer practice. Thought I should go all out.”

“It’s a tough match tonight,” Tina tells her. “I’m sure you know that already. The Brainiacs will be grateful for the support.”

“Brittany will crush it,” Santana replies confidently.

When Santana gets inside, she quickly finds a spot near the front so Brittany won’t have any trouble spotting her in the crowd. Not like she could when Santana’s holding a bright blue poster.

She walks the narrow aisle like a tightrope and settles in an empty seat between two older couples. They’re probably here to support someone on either team or maybe just here because they lost a bet – who knows. Santana, however, is here on a mission and there’s nothing more exciting than the suspense in embarrassing the crap out of Brittany.

Once the match begins, an announcer strolls out to introduce the teams.

Santana doesn’t pay him any mind or the geeks that slowly start making their entrance until she hears Brittany’s name. She’s on her feet in an instant as she goes into full cheerleader mode.

“Go Brittany!” She calls out – her voice louder than the sound of applause – as she waves her poster excitedly. She can feel those around her staring, but she doesn’t care because the look of complete disbelief on Brittany’s face is even better.

Suddenly the couple next to her stands and starts to cheer, “Go Brittany!”

Santana eyes them curiously, wondering if she just started something or they’re just chiming in along with her. They’re just as loud, if not louder, but what’s even more curious is the way Brittany shies away from the attention.

Still though, Santana continues to wave as Brittany walks across the stage to her seat. It’s not until Brittany’s seated that Santana tops off her antics by blowing her a kiss then watches with a satisfied grin as she sees Brittany’s face go red.

Safe to say, Santana won this round.

Despite the fact that academic decathlon club is just a glorified way of saying trivia team, Santana’s kind of surprised by how well Brittany actually does. The girl hasn’t missed a question yet which is saying something because Santana hasn’t heard of half of the things these questions consist of.

Another thing that sticks out to Santana is the fact that Brittany’s the only girl on the team. She wonders what that must be like, especially considering most of the guys on Brittany’s team seem really…fucking pretentious.

Their team captain? An absolute dickhead, Santana’s sure of it judging by the way he didn’t clap for Brittany’s correct answer. Some team captain he is and the others just follow his lead.

And Santana doesn’t know why, but seeing the way they interact with Brittany just makes her want to cheer even louder. She doesn’t even care when the rest of Brittany’s team glare at her, she’ll probably never see them again after this.

“Go Brittany!” Santana yells when Brittany answers correctly again. This time she makes eye contact with the couple next to her and explains, “That’s my girlfriend.”

The woman blinks, strangely similarly to Brittany, “I didn’t know Brittany was dating anyone.”

“Brittany’s dating someone?” The man next to her asks. “What happened to Artie?”

Santana tilts her head to the side, “Who’s Artie?”

The couple share a look while Santana starts connecting the dots. The woman’s blonde hair and striking blue eyes, the man’s t-shirt donning Brittany’s name and face – which she didn’t realize until now.

Suddenly, it dawns on her.

“Wait. Are you,” Santana stammers. “Are you Brittany’s parents?”

The woman smiles as she nods, “I’m her mom, Whitney. This is Pierce, her dad.”

The man next to her waves, “Hi. I’m Pierce.”

“I just said that,” Whitney whispers to him.

“Did you? I didn’t hear.”

Santana’s stunned, unsure of what she’s meant to do. She already introduced herself as Brittany’s girlfriend but Brittany doesn’t need a fake girlfriend – does she? And who the hell is Artie?

She’s starting to panic a little as Brittany’s reaction earlier starts to make sense. All this time, Santana’s been sitting next to her parents and she couldn’t do a thing about it! And when it comes to parents, she’s not like Brittany. She’s never been the girl people take home to meet their parents!

This is unknown territory and she can’t believe she’s even thinking it but where’s Brittany when she needs her?

“And you are?” Whitney asks – breaking Santana out of her thoughts.

Santana blinks, “Sorry?”

“Your name, dear.”

“Oh!” Santana blushes, “Duh. Sorry, I’m Santana.”

“Pretty name,” Whitney compliments.

“Santana,” Pierce repeats the name like he’s trying to commit it to memory.

Santana nods, wondering if she should be giving them the well-rehearsed spiel about their relationship or if she should just wait for Brittany. She’s really at a loss here and keeps looking to Brittany for some type of signal, but the girl is too focused on the trivia.

“So you have classes together?” Whitney asks, “You and Brittany?”

Santana swallows dryly, “Yeah. We have a couple together.”

“That’s nice,” Whitney replies. “You know our Brittany is the first in the family to go to college? Technically she’s gone to two so that’s even better.”

Santana’s brows rise at the information, “I-I didn’t know that, no.”

“She’s really something special,” She tells Santana. “We try to go to as many of her matches as we can. She’s just so smart.”

“We don’t know where she gets it from,” Pierce jokes. “Definitely not me.”

Whitney sighs through her smile, “It did take us all by surprise.”

Santana briefly remembers her and Brittany’s conversation on their flight back to campus. There was something about Brittany being left behind, about people not seeing her potential and giving up. It makes her wonder if her parents were lumped into that group, although it’s hard to imagine such a nice couple doing something like that to Brittany.

When the match ends awhile later – another win for the Brainiacs – Santana anxiously awaits Brittany’s entrance. So far the conversation with Brittany’s parents never exceeded surface level stuff which is a relief but she can tell there are questions and she doesn’t think she can answer them on her own.

“Mom, dad,” Brittany greets. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“We thought we’d surprise you since we’ve missed your last couple of matches,” Whitney says.

Brittany nods and looks to Santana.

“We had similar ideas,” Santana explains. “Being that I’m a supportive girlfriend and all.”

“I see,” Brittany catches on and wraps her arm around Santana’s waist. “It was a great surprise.”

Whitney and Pete look between the two and start to smile.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were dating someone, Britt-Britt?” Pierce asks.

Santana’s brows rise at the nickname, “Yeah Britt-Britt. Wanna keep me a secret?”

Brittany forces a laugh as she subtly pinches Santana’s side.

“Kidding,” Santana amends.

“I was going to tell you this weekend,” Brittany explains to her parents. “I’ve been really focused on preparing for this match. It’s been a pretty busy week.”

“That’s okay, dear,” Whitney replies. “We just want to be kept in the loop.”

Brittany frowns, “Yeah sure. Well, we’ve got to get going.”

“What?” Santana quirks her brow.

Whitney and Pierce respond similarly, “You don’t want to go for dinner or ice cream or something? You know, like we used to?”

“Santana and I have plans already,” Brittany tells them. “Maybe tomorrow though if you’re still around.”

Whitney and Pierce exchange a look, “We were going to drive back tomorrow morning.”

“Right,” Brittany shrugs. “Well maybe next time then.”

Santana watches as Brittany begins saying her goodbyes to her parents. She can sense the awkward tension and it makes her feel weird for intruding, but it doesn’t last long as Brittany loops her arms with hers and drags her away.

“Uh, what was that about?” Santana questions when they’re outside. “You don’t want to hang out with your parents?”

Brittany ignores the questions as they get to walking, “Sorry if they were annoying or anything.”

Santana grows even more confused, “They weren’t. They just want to cheer you on. How's that annoying?”

“I forgot I was talking to the captain of the cheer squad,” Brittany deflects again with a smirk.

“I'm not captain.”

Brittany looks to her, “You're not?"

Santana shakes her head, “Nope. People suspect favoritism when your step dad is the football coach.”

Brittany scoffs, “What's he have to do with cheerleading?”

“Exactly,” Santana says before getting back on topic. “Anyway, your parents seem sweet.”

“I guess.”

Santana looks at her, “No?”

It takes Brittany a second to answer, “They just, they haven't always been there for me growing up. They had no problem handing me off when something more important came up, you know?”

Santana shakes her head, “What could be more important than their kid?”

“Beats me,” Brittany shrugs. “But I guess they're trying to make up for that now.”

Santana nods, noticing the forlorn look on Brittany’s face and how misplaced it looks. Her comment gets her thinking about her dad and how he wasn’t around that often either, but he never let her forget how proud he was of her accomplishments. Even if he wasn’t around a lot, Santana never doubted how he felt about her.

With Brittany, she doesn’t think she returns the sentiment.

“Well, that's pretty fucked up,” Santana admits. Brittany looks back at her questioningly but Santana only shrugs, “I'd totally be there for my kid especially if they were half as smart as you.”

Brittany starts to grin and that forlornness suddenly disappears and morphs into something Santana’s a lot more familiar with.

“Didn't know you knew how to give compliments,” Brittany quips.

Santana rolls her eyes, “And there you go making me regret it.”

#Hate to Date #Brittana #Brittana Fanfiction #Enemies to Lovers #Fake Dating AU

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

Hands

MASTERLIST

Happy Monday! What better way to start the week than with some Spencer smut? Huge thanks to the anon who requested this based on a Spencer’s hands post I reblogged. WHEW did I get a bit carried away with writing this though, not that I regret that. His hands are just amazing aren’t they? Hope this fic makes you guys’ Mondays, just a bit better. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 3,821

Fidgeting.

Tapping.

Pointing.

Motioning.

Never staying still.

Repeat.

Spencer Reid had the most glorious hands, ever.

When you first started your job at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, the only thing you’d anticipated was the hard work you’d have to do to fill big shoes.

You had been hired as the Unit’s Press Liaison after Jennifer Jareau, the Unit’s previous Press Liaison, decided to become a profiler. It was an overwhelming offer because JJ had been one hell of a wonderful liaison. The only thing you’d been worried about was living up to the expectations she’d left behind.

What you didn’t expect was your gradual sexual attraction to and crush on Dr. Spencer Reid. Or an intense appreciation for his hands.

You couldn’t believe you had such a thing for them. It was incredibly difficult when you worked with him, as well.

They always managed to attract your attention.

He was always doing something with them. Whether it was fidgeting with a pen, fingers playing with a rubber band, hands gesturing while he explained something or sliding down a page of text as he read, your eyes always returned to them time and time again.

You didn’t have small hands by any means, but his hands were large, most likely twice the size of yours. You could hold your hand up to his in comparison and he’d be able to engulf his in yours.

There were prominent veins on the backs of his hands, something that was incredibly sexy although you couldn’t say why. His fingers were long and slender, clouding your thoughts on the daily, no matter how much you tried to stay professional.

Just the other day you had been presenting a case to the team.

“Chandler, Arizona needs our help.”

You clicked the remote, grisly pictures appearing on the screen.

“Two bodies have been found, exactly one month apart.”

“They look like they’re sleeping,” JJ noted with a frown.

“No blood, no wounds, it all looks relatively clean,” Spencer added, twirling a pencil in his fingers.

You gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to look away. You wished like all get out that he’d stop doing that.

“Wait a minute, is that frostbite on the edges of their fingers?” Rossi asked.

“Yeah, I see it too,” Spencer said, looking back at the pictures in his file.

His fingers tapped the areas where the frostbite was most present, absentmindedly gliding over the pictures.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t had constant fantasies about those hands on you, those fingers tangled in your hair, his fingers buried—

“Y/N?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, facing your boss Emily Prentiss who had asked you a question that you’d completely missed.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“I asked if the coroner had identified the marks on their chest. It looks like it’s from a defibrillator.”

You peered at the notes you’d jotted down, not before noticing Spencer quirk a brow in your direction. He’d most definitely caught you staring.

“That’s correct. By the coroner’s reports, both victims had been resuscitated multiple times and not at the same time either. Over a period of time.”

“What the hell is this unsub doing to these people?” Luke Alvez muttered.

“That is what we’re going to find out. Wheels up in thirty,” Emily said, standing, gathering the case file.

You expelled a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding as the team left. You needed to grab your go bag as well before meeting the team at the jet.

But first, you needed to get it together.

•

Your fantasies had returned, unsurprisingly.

You’d given a press conference earlier, met with family members and now was sitting against the edge of the table as the team were recounting what evidence they’d found. Most of it was the beginnings of their profile forming, tossing theories around.

You were only half listening, your mind wandering.

“This unsub’s torture is his twisted sexual fantasy. You know how normal people fantasize about normal sexual things? Whether it be exhibitionism, a certain kink, maybe even a certain part of another’s body, perhaps one’s hands.”

You had to stifle the guilty gasp that had risen in your throat. You felt your face heat. Either Spencer was messing with you or he had ironically and unintentionally somewhat called you out.

He hadn’t even glanced in your direction though. Even then, you weren’t sure what to think. Spencer Reid was definitely one smart cookie, both book smart and common sense smart. He caught on to more things than some gave him credit for.

“This is his sick unnatural version of that. It’s what arouses him,” Spencer continued, oblivious to your inner thoughts.

Well, Spencer certainly did that enough for you. You groaned internally, trying to focus on the case and not your gorgeous coworker. There would be plenty of time to release your sexual frustration later, at home, away from him and the rest of the team.

Although it was such a shame it couldn’t be his own hands caressing you as he fucked you against a wall.

Oh god, you really needed to get some fresh air.

“Agent Y/L/N?”

You turned at your name, seeing the local detective approaching you.

“We have an out of state family member that’s just called and would like to talk to you before he flies out.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. At least that would preoccupy your mind for a short while.

“I’ll be right there,” you nodded.

You turned back to the team.

“Keep me updated on what you find out,” you said before leaving to take the phone call.

You crossed your fingers in hopes that they wouldn’t send Spencer again to fill you in. That was the absolute last thing you needed.

It’s official, your coworkers hated you.

Spencer sat on top of the desk you were sat at, filling you in.

You were trying hard not to, but your body was reacting to him. You could feel the tightness of your breasts under your blouse, your center beginning to throb as you attempted to focus on what he was saying.

It wasn’t just his hands that got you hot, but they were a wonderful addition to an already impressive package.

He was attractive. He was tall and slender, light brown curls that were most likely always in a disarray. He would often push stray curls out of his eyes with a hand, oblivious to the fact he even did it.

He had a jawline as sharp as a razor and cheekbones any woman would envy. His lips were full and a naturally opaque medium pink hue. He had a habit of biting them or licking them when he was deep in thought. He also had this cute habit of poking his tongue out of his mouth while he thought. It was sexy and utterly adorable at the same time.

His smile could literally make a woman’s panties drop and give them butterflies simultaneously. His smile was as big as his brain and just as bright as him. When he smiled, it lit his whole face up, showing a row of perfectly straight and white teeth. His eyes occasionally crinkled at the corners and scrunched up when he smiled real big or laughed.

His eyes were so intriguing to you. Some days they looked brown, other they looked more green. You would guess they were a shade of hazel by how they seemed to change in different lights or depending on different colors he wore.

One thing about those eyes, they never missed anything.

His brains were just as attractive as he was. With his genius and his knowledge and experience of the job, he had become an amazing profiler over the years. It amazed you how he could process information and have a breakthrough in a case that none of the rest of the team could’ve ever thought of.

“Have you heard anything I’ve said?” he asked.

Once again, you forced yourself out of your head to struggle to listen to what he was saying.

“Huh what? Oh yeah, I- okay maybe I missed that last part,” you admitted.

“What’s got you so distracted today?” he asked, curiously.

“Just tired,” you lied smoothly.

Tired of imagining you half naked and sprawled across any of the nearby surfaces.

You shook the thought loose from your head. Focus, focus. You could do that.

“Just quickly run that by me one more time, please?”

•

You tossed a stack of files on your desk, sighing.

It had been a long week.

You’d made it through the last case—it successfully solved and the unsub in custody—within a few days. The team you were a part of were just that good.

You, along with the team, had arrived back at Quantico late last night. Today was a day full of paperwork, wrapping up the loose ends of the latest case. That had to be your least favorite part about this job.

You’d finish your paperwork earlier, also trying to avoid Spencer as the last few days had spiked your sexual frustration. You weren’t sure just how much more one could take.

Luckily—or unluckily, considering how you looked at it—you had a stack of cases to go through. You were going to be staying later than usual, that’s for sure.

Everyone was heading home for the day, but you were just getting started. You were anticipating going through the case files with Emily, when there was a knock at your door.

It wasn’t closed, so the knock was more of a formality than anything.

You looked up to see Spencer in the doorway.

“Hey. Need a hand?”

You had to bite back a groan. This man, you swear.

“Oh, no, thanks though. Emily and I are just staying a little later this evening to knock out some cases,” you motioned to the stack you’d been compiling.

“Actually that’s why I’m here,” he said, stepping in, putting his hands in his suit pants pockets.

“Emily had a personal emergency and asked me to help you out in her place.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, really. I can get it done myself, it’s no problem,” you offered.

“Well you know how fast I can read. Besides, it’s no problem. What, are you trying to get rid of me?”

A small smirk graced his lips.

“Uh, okay. Let me just grab these and I’ll meet you in the briefing room. It’ll have more desk space than this mess.”

You peered at your cluttered desktop, making Spencer chuckle.

“Here, let me help.”

He grabbed the stack of case files and was out the door.

You closed another file that you’d just gone through and sat it on the chair next to you, the table clearing and the pile in the chair, growing.

Turns out, Spencer was right. His quick reading came in handy with going through these potential cases. It’d only been an hour and you’d flown through three quarters of the files.

“Done with this one,” Spencer said, sliding it your way, “Tell the detective to look into the brother of the suspect, he seems promising.”

You raised a brow, but said nothing as you jotted the note down to add to the file, closing it and adding it to the pile.

He was already on the next case, reading it. His fingers scanned down the pages as his eyes took in the information. As much as you tried to resist, your eyes fell to his hands. You just couldn’t help it.

The amount of dirty thoughts you’d had involving them in the last few years was insane. It was hard not to imagine those long, agile fingers buried deep inside you, driving you crazy.

You shifted in your chair, trying to avoid the arousal that was creeping upon you, its fingers just starting to grab a hold of you. You could just imagine those fingers gently gliding over your bare skin, hands gripping your curves, melding into the form of your hips as he held tightly onto them while he thrust deep inside you. You bet he’d feel amazing.

If his big brains were any kind of indicator of his nether regions then you were positive he was well endowed.

The words in front of you in the file were blurring, you couldn’t keep focus. Your mind was a fog that was filled with nothing but Spencer Reid in the most compromising ways.

You blinked to clear the blurring words, reaching for your water bottle to drink some. It had been at least ten minutes since the last time either of you had spoken, so you were startled when you heard him speak, breaking the silence in the room.

“So what’s got you so aroused?”

You almost choked on your swallow of water. You sputtered a bit, wiping your mouth and swallowing the liquid, screwing the cap back onto the bottle. He hadn’t even looked up from the file in your direction when he’d spoken, he was still studying the case in front of him. You stalled, putting your water bottle back in your bag before answering.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re shifting in your seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs uncontrollably and clearing your throat. Your breathing seems to be a little more accelerated than normal and your heart rate has probably spiked. Plus, your face is flushed.”

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to desperately deny it, but you knew Spencer was too good at his job and knew better.

He shifted in his seat, turning to look at you.

“Why are you always staring at my hands? Are they what gets you this worked up?”

You swallowed hard, nodding slightly.

“Answer me, please,” he said not in an unkind tone, but a gravelly element had slipped into his voice.

“Yes,” you whispered.

His teeth raked over his lower lip as his hand pushed your hair back behind one ear, softly trailing down your cheek before grasping your chin with two fingers, pulling you into a kiss.

You were surprised at this turn of events, but returned the kiss, his lips soft against yours. He deepened the kiss, his hand gliding over your cheek, fingers tangling into your hair.

He pulled away from you, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your blouse.

“Wanna see exactly what my hands can do?”

You were dreaming. You had to be. There was no way this was actually happening or the fact that Spencer was trying to seduce you. At some point in the last couple of seconds, he’d pulled you to a standing position, lifting you up to sit on the edge of the table.

“Please,” you murmured, watching him.

His fingers brushed an area of exposed skin with every button he’d opened, making you shiver. Finishing the last button, he pushed the shirt back over your shoulders and you let it fall off your arms and to the floor. You were quite literally sitting on the edge of the table in just your lilac lacy bra and work skirt.

His hands glided up your arms, giving you goosebumps. Although that partly could’ve been because of his intense gaze locked on yours. His hands reached towards your back, unhooking your bra then sliding the straps down your shoulders. When your bra fell in your lap, you pushed it away, hearing it hit the floor. You also thought you heard a deep groan, die in his throat.

You felt suddenly, extremely exposed as his eyes roamed your bare top half.

“Tell me. What kinds of things have you imagined me doing to you?”

At this point, you couldn’t determine if he was just a really good profiler or a mind reader. Your face flamed, realizing he’d probably caught on long ago.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” his lips brushed against yours, his fingers like feathers across your collarbones, before he whispered in your ear, his scruff tickling the side of your face in a pleasant way.

“I like you too. For a long time, Y/N.”

You bit your lip, watching him pull away, the smirk back on his lips.

“Now, tell me. What have you imagined me doing?”

His hands cupped your boobs, squeezing them gently. If your nipples hadn’t already hardened from your arousal, they most certainly would be now.

“Have you imagined this?” Spencer whispered.

The pads of his thumbs moved back and forth over your nipples causing you to gasp. Your core had already been throbbing from earlier but now it had become ten times worse, including the slickness between your thighs as well.

“Or maybe this?”

On one side, his fingers twisted your nipple just slightly and on the opposite side, his hand kneaded your breast more firmly. The whimper that left your throat obviously pleased him.

His fingers found the zipper of your skirt, located at your side, along your hip. He pulled it down slowly. All you could hear was the slow descent of the zipper and your sudden, ragged breathing.

His hands brushed your hips as he pulled the garment off, letting it drop where it may.

With a hand gentle on your back, he pushed you down to lay against the table top then his hands continued their exploration. They glided up over your stomach, fingers tapping down your sides.

You’re pretty sure he could make you orgasm just from his playful touch. You were propped up on your forearms, watching him. Your skin was cool against the tabletop.

“You still haven’t told me what you’ve imagined me doing,” he said slyly, hands just beginning to reach the tops of your thighs.

Without even thinking, your legs immediately parted, ready for his hands between them.

“Nuh uh,” he replied, closing your legs, gripping the sides of your thighs roughly, “I need to be told.”

At this point, you were positive you’d soaked through your panties. You were dying from his touch, yet craving it where it mattered the most.

“I want you to touch me,” you croaked.

“Touch you? But I have been,” he grinned mischievously, rubbing the sides of your thighs, “In fact, I’m touching you now.”

You wanted to groan. Fucking Spencer Reid.

Either you were out of your mind with your current state or just completely lost all will to keep up your sexual frustration for the words out of your mouth were something you wouldn’t normally be so brazen to say. At least not without blushing.

“I want you to use your hands on me until I’m gripping the table and screaming your name,” you gritted out through clenched teeth.

The only reaction you saw from him was the slight squint of his eyes and you felt the grip on your thighs tighten. If it hadn’t been for that, you wouldn’t have thought your words had affected him at all.

He nudged your thighs apart, fingers slowly stroking the insides of them. You were practically quivering with need by this point, your core throbbed for his heavenly touch.

When it came, a feather light brush through the silk material of your underwear, you hissed, the feeling just barely a taste of what you knew was to come.

“Eager are we?”

He could feel how wet he’d gotten you and the wolfish grin on his face, you knew, was because of it.

He remained teasing you, thumb pressing your clit through the thin fabric.

“Fucking hell Spencer, either you do it or I’ll do it myself.”

His deep chuckle sent electricity to your core.

“Why Y/N, I never knew there was this side to you.”

His fingers dipped into the waistband of your panties, pulling them off. He wasted no time getting down to business.

His touch trailed down your slit and a low moan came from you. You couldn’t help it at this point. Months—hell years—of sexual frustration were coming to the surface and you were quite willing him to wreck you.

A finger slid in you easily, obviously with the help of your arousal. You saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard, his eyes taking you in. You needed more and you told him so. More digits were added and you easily became a moaning mess.

His knuckles gently rubbed your walls, giving you shock waves of pleasure all through your body. He was as good with his hands as you’d imagined, but the real thing was so much better than your fantasies.

His pace alternated between slow and gentle to rough and quick, keeping you on your toes. Small whimpers and moans were coming from you quickly and you leaned your head back, hips arching into his touch.

You were certain you were going to explode when his thumb circled your clit.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, feeling yourself inadvertently tighten around his fingers.

You were positive he’d felt it too when you heard his own groan come from above you. His beautiful hazel eyes were piercing you, lust filled and prideful that he was the one making you moan and squirm under him.

“Spence,” you whimpered.

Your high was so close, your blood was roaring in your ears and all you could think of was him making you cum harder than you’d ever have before. Your hand gripped the table, your breathing coming in sharp gasps.

One hand gripped his wrist as the coil of pressure that had been growing in the pit of your stomach, exploded. You cried out, pretty sure his name was on your lips repeatedly as your previously tensed muscles, relaxed and you came all over his fingers.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, as you were recovering, your chest rising and falling.

He helped you up, kissing you once again, gently before gathering your clothes and handing them to you with a grin.

Your cheeks flushed as you realized you’d quite literally just came on the round table—where the entire team was briefed on cases, might you add—and because of Spencer.

It was only when you’d gotten your undergarments back on that you noticed him trying to discreetly rearrange himself, that you realized he was trying to hide his own raging arousal.

You don’t know how you’d missed the fact that you’d gotten him incredibly hard. Maybe because you were too busy dying repeatedly over his touch.

“Spencer,” you motioned him over.

You reached for his belt buckle when he walked into reaching distance, fully intending to return the favor.

He stilled your hands, shaking his head.

“Another time.”

You looked at him, confused. His eyes twinkled mischievously, though.

“Next time, I want to show you what other parts of me can do.”

You had to hand it to him. That was one side of Spencer Reid you would’ve never expected.

As he left, you were sure there was going to be a cold shower in the very near future for him.

TAG LIST: @dreatine @reid-187 @groovyreid @reidslibra @suvikamahes98blr @fuckthealarm @iamburdened @cindywayne @tinyminy88 @sundippedprincess @missprettyboy @hushlilbabydoll @sammy-jo1977 @haileymorelikestupid @lemonypink @multifandommandy @teamkiall @redbullchick @ifeelloved @one-sweet-gubler @nanocoool @delightfullyspeedyearthquake @unsteadyimagines @ughitsbaby @inkwiet @pennythetechgoddess @capt-engr-ssa @sixx-sic-sixx @spencersdolore @reidsstudies @disney-dreams-world @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore @andiebeaword @cupcake525 @be-the-bravest @gretaamyk @likelovers @hopebaker @prisonreid @httpnxtt @daviddoughboy @pastathighs @marvels-gurl @blushingspencer @pretty-boy-gubler @victorzsaszmydaddy @inlovewithamess @im-inlovewith-mycar

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mrs-dr-reid · 4 years

Text

The Girl Behind the Desk

(A Criminal Minds Fic)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Requested by @imagining-in-the-margins; “Spencer goes to the same library whenever he can. In part because he likes to read the encyclopedias, but also because he’s in love with one of the girls who works there. Unfortunately, he’s also convinced she doesn’t know he exists.”

Genre: Super fluffy, doods

Warnings: Pining, I guess? (is that a thing that needs a warning? I dunno, maybe)

A/N: Okay, this was so fun to write? Oh my god. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Word Count: 1858

———————————————————————

Spencer didn’t know why he kept going there. Well, he takes that back. He kind of knows why he keeps going to a very particular library in the D.C. area: There’s a very robust collection of encyclopedias there that he can go and read whenever he has time off from the BAU. Therein lies the kicker: he’s already read the entire collection at least half a dozen times. So why does he keep going there if he’s already read the one thing there that interests him?

The answer is quite simple... the encyclopedia section is within viewing distance of the check-out desk, and whenever he goes in to read them, there’s always a beautiful young woman there with shiny Y/H/C hair and striking Y/E/C eyes checking out books, answering the questions of other library patrons, and taking the reshelving cart to some other section of the library. He’s never plucked up the courage to go over and talk to her, but he knew from overhearing the conversations she had with her coworkers that her first name was Y/N.

Spencer’s played out a thousand interactions with her in his mind, but he’s never gone over to the desk to actually play one of them out. So for the past month and a half, he’s just been sitting in the corner by himself pretending to read a book while staring at the beautiful librarian from across the room like a lovesick idiot. And he was a lovesick idiot, because he couldn’t recall a single time in his life where he was utterly captivated by a woman he’d never even spoken a word to before.

He noticed every little thing about her: the way she would smile at young children who would plunk a Magic Treehouse or Percy Jackson book on the counter and stand on their tiptoes to hand her their library card, then give them a small lollipop from the glass bowl on the desk before they left, the way she laughed when one of her coworkers told a really lame library joke, the way she could pull her hair into a neat bun while she was working without one of those hair donut things he’s seen JJ use a couple times, and the way there was always a skip in her step and a song in her head when she was pushing the reshelving cart to whatever section she needed to go to.

She never looked over at his lonely little table because she was busy focusing on the more busy sections of the library, like the magazines, the research computers, and the children’s books, so the logical half of Spencer’s brain managed to convince him that she had no idea he even existed and that he really had no business being in the building. Still, the other more fantastical half of his brain kept him rooted in his plush library chair on the very slim chance that one day she’d look over and at least give him a smile. He highly doubted that would ever happen, but a guy can hope.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Y/N could tell that the guy in a purple sweater vest with unruly brown hair and thoughtful brown eyes sitting at a table near the encyclopedias wasn’t really there to read all of them every time he came in, because she was pretty sure she saw him read every single one of them and put them all back in the right place in the span of a few hours the first day he came into her library.

Sometimes when she was refilling the candy bowl, she would steal a quick glance over at him and see him absentmindedly flipping through the pages of an encyclopedia she knows she’s seen him read in record breaking time with a furrowed brow, because she had to admit he was handsome in his own nerdy little way. And she’d always feel her stomach flip when he pushed his hair away from his eyes or adjusted his tie, because his hands look HUGE, even from far away, and she knows that if they ever shook hands, his would completely swallow hers.

She only knew his name because he answered his phone one time, and she heard him say, “Dr. Spencer Reid,” which made her raise her eyebrows in amazement, because he couldn’t have been much older than she was and he was a doctor. She could tell by the way he dressed that there was no way he was a medical doctor, so she assumed that he was a college professor with a proclivity for literature.

He came into her library sporadically over a month and a half period, and when he was gone for long lapses in time, Y/N assumed he was doing lectures either at the school he worked at or at nearby schools as a guest speaker. But whenever she looked over at the empty table where he usually made himself at home, she couldn’t help but miss him, which was utterly ridiculous because how could you miss someone you’ve never even spoken to? She then made a pact with herself: the next time she saw him come in, she was going to find some excuse or another to talk to him.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Spencer got back from a really rough case, and he figured that a trip to his favorite library might lift his spirits. He walked in through the doors, expecting it to be a normal session of “pretending to read so I can stare at the desk girl”, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a voice he’d only heard from a distance say, “We just got in a couple new ones about fungi and spores, in case you wanted to look at something new.”

He turned around to see the woman he’d been admiring from afar for nearly the last two months with her award-winning smile on her face. She pointed at his table and said, “I noticed you liked hanging out by the encyclopedias, so I thought I’d let you know if I caught you before you hunkered down over there,” making him struggle to find the right words to say. He finally settled on, “Ummm, okay. Cool. Thank you for letting me know,” and smiled before starting to walk away.

Y/N knew that was her last chance, so she said, “I’m Y/N, by the way. Y/N L/N,” and held out her hand, so Spencer hesitated before grabbing it and saying, “Hi, Y/N. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. Sorry, but, handshakes aren’t normally my thing. You see, the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is outrageous. It’s actually...,” making Y/N say, “Safer to kiss, right? I’ve dealt with my fair share of germaphobes who whip out that fact,” before shooting him a wink.

Spencer didn’t know how to react to that, but he knows for a fact he went pink in the cheeks. Y/N continued, “And I already knew your name. I heard you answer your phone once. You’ve never checked out any books, so I just thought you were too busy with teaching to remember to return them and never went over to ask you about it,” while she started grabbing new books to stamp and stack.

Spencer didn’t really know how to respond to that, but he remembered how to speak English, and he said, “You think I’m a teacher?”, so she said, “Yeah. I mean, based on the way you dress and the fact that you’re slightly too germaphobic, there’s no way you’re a medical doctor. I figured you were a college professor, more specifically in the English department. How close am I?”, while sitting down in her swivel chair.

Spencer was impressed by her profiler-level deduction, so he said, “I’d say you were 70% accurate. I’m not a medical doctor, but I do have three PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering, 2 BAs in Psychology and Sociology, and I’m working on a BA in Philosophy. I am a college professor, but I teach Criminology. I’m also a Supervisory Special Agent with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI,” which made Y/N’s eyebrows fly up. She said, “Seriously?! All this time, I’ve been sneaking peeks at a super genius pretending to read an encyclopedia in the corner for the past two months?”, which made Spencer’s sly smile drop off his face.

He said, “You knew I was pretending?”, so Y/N grabbed her water bottle and said, “Yeah. You breezed through the entire collection in less than 3 hours the first day you came in, then you put every single one back in its rightful place. I even double checked after you left, and I didn’t have to swap a single book into the right place,” before taking a sip of water. Spencer said, “Well, I guess that’s what happens when you have an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute,” which nearly made Y/N choke on her water.

Spencer’s eyes widened in concern, and he said, “Oh my god, are you okay?”, but she waved him off and said, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t expecting that,” before setting her water down. She checked her watch, then said, “Okay, my shift ends in a couple hours. And knowing you you’ll probably finish all those new encyclopedias by then, so how about when I clock out, you and I can go get coffee or something?”, which took Spencer completely by surprise. He said, “Uhhhhh, sure! Yeah, sure! That sounds great!”, his voice betraying him by cracking awkwardly.

Clearly Y/N thought it was cute, because she grabbed a pink sticky note and a clicker pen from the cup on the desk, jotted something down, then handed it to him before saying, “Be sure to think of some interesting fungus facts to tell me later, Dr. Brainiac,” winking, and heading off to reshelve some books. Spencer stood there awestruck for a solid minute before shaking himself and going to his usual spot. He finally looked down at what she had written, and he felt himself go completely red, because on the note was a series of numbers that could only be her cell phone number, an address that could only be hers, and the words “call me sometime, Boy Genius” written in a gorgeous looping scrawl.

Spencer looked up again to see her talking with one of her coworkers behind the desk, so he pulled out his phone and punched in her number before typing “Is texting okay, too?” and pressing send. He saw her pull out her phone, and she looked up and gave him a playful eye roll before typing something and putting her phone back in her pocket. His phone buzzed again, so he checked it to see that she had sent back “Of course it is, Dr. Reid ;)”, making him smile before going to grab those encyclopedias she was talking about.

———————————————————————

Tag List: @agenthotchner, @hurricanejjareau, @xgoldentigerlilyx, @therestisconfettis, @less-intelligent-spencerreid, @aryaarathornson, @thomasgibsonfan01

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added

#criminal minds #reader insert #one shot #dr spencer reid

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whiskehorange · 4 years

Note

I was at work all day and almost missed the notif that requests were open! I’d like to request head cannons for Ellen Ripley, Will Graham, the Looksee, Danny Torrence, Candyman, Tiffany Valentine, Sidney Prescott, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Olivia Benson, and Elliot Stabler with a writer S/O that uses their experiences/lives as inspiration? Sorry it’s a bit of a mixed bag of folks lol, thank you!!

So, tumblr only allows 10 images per post, so please forgive me for combining two sets of characters together! ALSO: Danny is completely based off of his character from the book! So if it doesn’t line up with the movie I’m sorry but also fuck them for changing his character

Ellen

Ellen is all for you writing about what you’ve been through and experienced. It makes for a much more personal story and means so much more to not only you but people who can relate to what you’ve finished. She’s more than happy to help you in writing or editing, even giving you her own experiences if you’d like to get a bit of outsider information. God knows she’s got a lot of stories to fuel your imagination for a while.

Will

Will loves seeing you have something that puts you at ease at the end of the day, even if it’s talking or taking notes about your day. Being able to sit with you and give your drafts a read is something he looks forward to doing at the end of the day, too. As much as he’d love to take you out and give you the chance to have new, and maybe better, experiences with him, he doesn’t want to barge in on your life and put himself into something so personal for you. Little does he know, you look forward into starting a new chapter, literally, with him.

Danny

He can’t lie, the first time he really caught wind of you being a writer, he was a bit nervous. He felt like he just really couldn’t get away from his past, but once you answer his numerous questions about how you feel about writing, what you write about, when you do it, he feels much more at ease. You manage to convince him that it can be pretty therapeutic, for you at least, and fun! Danny isn’t too sure he wants to open those boxes and put them on paper just yet, but he’ll look forward to the upcoming sober chapters of his life with you.

The Look-see

In all honesty, he could watch you write and jot down your outlines just about all day. It’s one of the reasons he didn’t kill you in the first place. You were able to get over your grief by writing down your past experiences and pain all into one collective narrative. Why don’t more people do that? Well, he still wants to get his kills in but... still. Maybe he can feed off of grief with paper, he’ll read it somehow. Use echolocation so the sound bounces off of the led on the paper, I don’t fucking know.

Candyman

Writing is sure a pure form of art, Daniel can respect that. Of course, that means that he is more than willing to be your proofreader and editor after you’ve been working just about all day. It brings him joy to discover so much about you and your past, even if some of them aren’t too good. Everyone’s got a little baggage to them, but he’s willing to be there to help you carry it. He can be there to help you write it, too!

Tiffany

Tiffany thinks it’s so badass! I mean, shit, why didn’t she think of that? She’d have one fucked up book, but it’d be funny to her. Tiff loves to read your stuff like it’s an action novel, asking you loads of questions about certain events that actually happened. So you actually based this piece off of getting trampled by a camel? Get the fuck outta here..... please tell her more she’s begging, she’s never seen a real camel. Are they real? Just tell her your story from day 1.

Sidney

There’s been too many mock books and false narratives about her story already, so she hasn’t really bothered to put her real story out there. But she’s glad to see that your stories and writings are much more tame and enjoyable to read than a halloween-brand killer chasing her that ended up being her boyfriend and his best friend. She’d much rather read about your first encounter with water. Almost drowning, but still pretty funny for the both of you.

Emily & Spencer

Emily is all for you writing to get your emotions out, even if you do it for fun! She writes just a little bit in her spare time, or even when she’s on the plane, but insists on you sending her copies of what you’ve wrote so far for her to read. If you write on your computer that’s even better, you can just send them to her like that. Every time she reads something by you she can’t help but smile, no matter what it’s about.

Spencer loves to read your work! He thinks it’s a good ideas too, there can be a lot of benefits to writing memories and emotions down on paper, or a doc. He’s more than happy to edit your writings if you ask, but you’ll probably find little pen corrections here and there on whatever you’ve given to him to pick through. Even talking about it with you at the end of the day is fine with him.

Rossi

David writes, so he knows just how your brain functions one somedays. Don’t even get him started on writers block, but it’s different for him to see someone writing just based on their experiences, and then turning it into it’s own story. It’s more interesting than an autobiography, but more personal than a fictional piece. You can definitely find him at the end of the day sifting through your notes and finished pieces, even the ones you didn’t want him to read yet while you’re asleep.

Olivia & Elliot

Olivia strongly advocates for you to continue this sort of writing. She’s seen and read tons of books based on traumatic experiences, but this is a good refresher, and she gets to read it in the making. Her favorite part of your process is hearing you talk out loud to yourself when writing. Your though process says a lot to her.

Elliot, while advocating for this type of writing as well, is definitely more of a snoop than anything else. Of course, you’re okay with him reading what you’ve got, making piles of finished and WIPs that you’d rather him wait to see. But do you really think that’s gonna stop him from looking through those when you’re asleep or away? No. He just feel better knowing just about everything about you to make sure he’s doing things right.

#ellen ripley x reader #will graham x reader #the looksee x reader #danny torrance x reader #candyman x reader #tiffany valentine x reader #sidney prescott x reader #emily prentiss x reader #spencer reid x reader #david rossi x reader #olivia benson x reader #elliot stabler x reader #slasher x reader

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random-imagines-blog · 3 years

Text

Perfect {Christian Bale x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 1838 Summary: Christian proves time and time again how much he loves you. Song: Perfect by Ed Sheeran

Although you had been married for five years now, Christian kept finding ways to surprise you. He never stopped trying to woo you, although he had put both the engagement and wedding rings upon your finger. When you got home from filming, after a good four months abroad, you had expected to see him sitting on the couch, anticipating your arrival, but that wasn’t what you got. What you had come home to was candlelight from different parts of the house, rose petals strewn down the hallway, and a note upon the table where you often set your keys, hand written with your name on it. You picked it up and read it outloud in a whisper.

‘Y/N,

Darling, I’ve had the last four months to think about what I was going to do when you finally came back home to me. You know me, I couldn’t just sit around and wait, I had to think up something. Do something. A balloon and a banner wouldn’t have been enough, so I had to use my imagination. I came up with a thousand different things, and made a hundred different plans but this is the one that I settled on. This is what you inspired me to do. So follow the path, and meet me where I’m waiting for you.

Yours forever,

Christian.’

You pressed the piece of paper up to your face, and could smell his cologne. He must have been wearing it when he wrote this. And he had used his best handwriting too, not the scribbles that he usually did when he was jotting down notes or taking a message. You set the paper back down carefully, for you wanted to save this note. You kept every love note that he had ever written for you, even the first one that he had slipped under the door of your dressing room after you first met and had a connection on a film that you worked on together. You had a metal, fireproof box of them in your closet. It was worth the investment. You didn’t want anything to happen to them, and planned to show them to your children one day to prove that your husband, their father, was a romantic. Okay, maybe not all of them. There were a few that were for your eyes only.

You took off your shoes and left your luggage by the door, following the rose petals in your bare feet. The carpet felt soft and familiar after spending so long in your trailer, which was not nearly as nice as this house. You blew out the candles as you went on, noticing that there wasn’t much wax dripping so he must have lit them right before you came in. Still - you didn’t want to cause a fire for the sake of romance.

The petals lead you to the French doors which opened up to the backyard. The doors were open, a breeze coming through, ruffling at the tied-off curtains. Outside, strung up amongst the patio and the backyard, were paper lanterns. They were usually only used for parties and entertaining, but there didn’t appear to be anyone else out there but Christian.

When he saw you, he lifted his phone and pressed a button. A song started to come through the speakers. You recognized it from the radio, but you couldn’t claim to know it well. It was sweet, and it was warm, very much like the air out here tonight. You even noticed that he had put on the candles which acted as mosquito repellant, which you were very thankful for in these hot and muggy months. You walked down the stairs to the grass below, raising an eyebrow at him as the blades tickled at your toes.

“What’s all this?” You asked.

“A little welcome home,” He said, taking your hand giving you a spin. You giggled, and finished it by spinning right into his chest. Now you were understanding the meaning of the music, because he began to sway with you. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. You didn’t realize how much you had missed the little things. The feeling of his hand against yours. The way that he dressed up for tonight, wearing a button up and nice trousers, just to see you. You were flattered, and honored as always.

The song seemed to know exactly how you were feeling. The lyrics were describing what was happening, right around you, and it made your heart shoot higher. God, you loved this man.

“I missed you,” He said softly into your ear. His breath tickled against your skin, and it sent a shiver up your spine. You smiled against him, your eyes drooping closed to fully take in the moment.

“I missed you too,” You admitted, humming contently. “But you didn’t have to go through all of this. I would have been happy with the banner and the balloons.”

“I know,” Christian chuckled, kissing the top of your head. “And that’s why I knew I had to do this. Because you’re deserving of so much more than a banner and some balloons.”

“You did bring balloons though right? You know I love those things,” You joked. Everything was absolutely perfect so far. A homecoming that you didn’t think that you deserved, but one that you sorely needed. He always went above and beyond for you - so you knew that you had to start planning what you were going to do for his next homecoming. He was always working on some project or other, so he was bound to be leaving your side soon. But now wasn’t the time to think about such negative things.

As the song came to an end, Christian’s lips finally met yours in a kiss that more than made up for being gone for so long. You pressed yourself against his body, trying to make it last longer, but he pulled away much too soon. You pouted at him, wondering what was going on.

“This wasn’t it,” He said, squeezing your hand. He lead you through the grass, over towards the pool house. There was a light breeze over the clear water, which looked enticing enough to jump in now. Perhaps before the night was over. You did get some sleep on the plane, and were feeling pretty well rested. A little skinny dipping adventure sounded like the perfect way to end the night.

The lights were on inside of the little structure. You never actually spent that much time in it, using it as storage, so you were eagerly looking forward to seeing what was in there which Christian thought so important. He opened the door for you, and when you stepped inside, you saw that everything had changed. There weren’t any boxes piled up or pool toys or Christian’s tools anymore. All of that stuff had been unpacked, put away and then buried behind a fresh coat of paint and new floors.

Not only that, but a table and two chairs were set inside, and the smell of your favorite dish came wafting over as you stepped inside. By now your cheeks were starting to hurt from having to support your smile for so long. “How did you know I was starving?” You chuckled, stepping further inside to see the candlelight had spread from the house to the poolhouse as well. Long, tall candles were on the table, sitting on either side of a vase with a couple of your favorite flowers, freshly picked.

“I know you,” Christian said with a grin. You slapped his arm playfully, but he didn’t stay by your side long to take the abuse. He moved past you to the chair, pulling it out for you, the part of the perfect gentleman. You took the seat, feeling like a pile of honey from how sweet he was being to you. “And I know you hate airplane food.” He added on, taking his own seat.

“Very true,” You admitted. The man really did know you better than anyone. You really didn’t think that you would ever love another human being this much, but he blew your expectations of romance right out of the water. “So, you redid the pool house,” You noted, cutting into your food.

“I thought it was about time,” Christian said, looking away from you for the first time of the night to take in his own handiwork. “I was thinking about adding more to it - making it like a playhouse.”

“A playhouse?” You asked, putting your fork down in surprise. “For who?”

“No one we know ... yet,” He said, a coy expression on his face. You knew exactly what he had meant though - you’d had these conversations before. Before you even got engaged, you wanted to be on the same page about having children one day. You wanted to share everything with him. Not just your heart, your career or your house - but the experience of parenthood as well. Thinking about a couple of little Christian’s running around, with big sweet versions of his eyes - it was almost too cute to bare. But the time had never seemed right, not with the fame and your constant projects. But he hadn’t taken on a job in six months, you realized. It made you wonder if he was serious about settling down for a while.

“Do you really mean that?” You asked, your own schedule wide open. Now was actually the perfect time if you were going to try for kids. You were financial steady, the house was paid off, you didn’t have to rush off for work anytime soon. And Christian could be there for you throughout all of it.

“What better time than now?” Christian asked, continuing to eat like he hadn’t just dropped that bombshell on you. You picked your fork back up and continued to eat, imagining throughout what could be done with this place. You’d need many more shelves for the plethora of toys that your children were going to have.

“Could you be any more perfect?” You asked, sliding your foot up his thigh as a little tease of what was to come later.

“Is that a challenge?” Christian asked, raising an eyebrow at you from across the table. “What if I told you that I planned to also clean the dishes tonight, and be the one that picks up all of the rose petals. You don’t even have to lift a finger.”

“Then I’d say yes, you can be more perfect,” You said, giggling. You hadn’t even thought about how annoying it could be to pick up each individual rose petal.

No matter how much you felt like you didn’t deserve all this, he had a way of making you feel perfect in return.

#Christian Bale #Christian Bale x reader #Christian Bale oneshot #celebity #celebrity oneshot #oneshot #x reader #request #christianb

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karasuno-chaos · 4 years

Text

Recommending Music (Tsukishima x Reader)

What do you think Tsukishima listens to with those headphones of his? 🎵 Also this one’s a bit long and a bit messy, sorry. -Giz

Word Count: 2,381

Fluffvember masterlist

The notebook started in middle school. You’d befriended Yamaguchi almost immediately, but getting to know Tsukishima had taken some time. After your first year, you could usually read the intention behind his snide remarks and hard stares, but you weren’t sure you qualified as a friend yet. At least he tolerated you and allowed you to hang out with him and Yamaguchi sometimes, and you were willing to take what he’d give.

During lunch one day in the middle of your second year, you finally received some clarity.

“If we’re going to be friends, I have a list of songs you need to listen to.”

“You consider us friends?” you asked, feeling a rush of excitement.

“Obviously.” His expression was annoyed, but he wasn’t being aggressive. Sometimes you suspected that his frustration with himself surfaced as frustration with other people.

“Is it your top ten songs, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked, totally unphased by his friend’s frosty behavior. “Has it changed at all?”

“Not really. Pass me your notebook,” he requested, holding a hand out to you.

“Hang on, I don’t have one handy.” You heard him sigh as you ran back to your desk, but you didn’t know what he’d expected. You didn’t usually bring school work to lunch. You grabbed a mostly-empty notebook from your desk and flipped it open to a blank page before slapping it down in front of him.

“Here you go.”

You opened your lunch and ate while he marked the page with his sharp, precise handwriting. Yamaguchi watched over his shoulder.

“That one’s new,” he said, pointing to the eighth on the list.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry Tsukki.”

This common refrain between them had alarmed you at first, but neither friend was bothered by the words. Like so many of Tsukishima’s remarks, it sounded more aggressive than he meant it to be.

“Here.” He turned the notebook to face you, and you studied it curiously. You’d heard of most of the songs, but some of them were unfamiliar. He’d also written little notes next to a few of them, like “bass line” or “harmonies”.

“So I just need to listen to them?” you asked. “You’re not going to quiz me or anything, right?”

“Why would I bother?” he scoffed, shifting his headphones from around his neck to over his ears. You glanced at Yamaguchi who shrugged with a smile. You looked at the notebook again. Somehow this list felt like a confirmation that you had a place in their small but very close friend group, and it made you very happy.

A few days later, Tsukishima asked whether you’d listened to the songs yet.

“I have,” you replied confidently.

“Just once, or multiple times?”

“Multiple times. You can’t fully appreciate a song after just one listen.”

He blinked at you, and a tiny shift in his expression told you that he was impressed.

“Tsukki had to tell me to try them several times at first,” Yamaguchi admitted. You gave him a sympathetic shrug. You didn’t want to admit that you’d been so thorough in an effort to impress Tsukishima. Despite his confirmation that he considered you a friend, you still felt like you might be on a trial period with him.

“What did you appreciate about them then?” he asked, sitting back in his seat.

“Hang on, let me get my notes,” you said.

“You took notes?” Yamaguchi asked, also impressed. He looked curiously at the notebook when you pulled it out. You’d scribbled your thoughts next to Tsukishima’s concise script. “You really took this seriously.”

“Was I not supposed to?” you asked, starting to feel embarrassed at the effort you’d made.

“Let me see,” Tsukishima said quietly. You handed him the notebook and tried not to fidget too much while you waited for his reaction. You braced yourself for the cutting remarks and cold criticisms you were fairly certain would come.

“What do you mean by ‘trying too hard’?” he asked after a bit, pointing to a note you’d made.

“The singer kept embellishing the melody like she was trying to impress the listener, and sometimes the guitar came on a little strong. It was like they wanted to come across as serious musicians, but instead they sounded desperate.”

“The band was still pretty young when they first recorded this track.”

“I figured,” you said.

“Which is why some of those guitar riffs are so impressive,” he finished with the confidence of someone winning an argument.

“I’m not saying they’re not skilled,” you conceded, “but having the skills and using them well are two different things, and I think they could have done better.”

“Interesting.” He looked at you critically, and there was that shift in his expression again that indicated he was impressed. Your embarrassment left. Maybe your extra effort had been worth it.

He asked you about some of your other notes or particular parts of some of the songs. Yamaguchi chimed in, too, and you could imagine Tsukishima giving him a similar education in his musical tastes. He didn’t speak with particular passion or aggressively impose his views, but he was much more focused than you normally saw him. He was actually interested in what you had to say, and you rather liked having his attention.

As your lunch period drew to a close, Tsukishima flipped the page of your notebook and jotted down another few lines.

“Check these out next,” he said, and that’s how it started. He’d tell you to listen to a few songs, you’d discuss what you thought of them, and you’d do it all again. You ripped out what little school notes you’d had in your notebook, and it became dedicated to your music exchanges After a while, you started recommending songs for him, too. You enjoyed subjecting him to your musical tastes and defending your choices. Yamaguchi participated sometimes, but the exchange was mainly between you and Tsukishima.

You were surprised when it continued through middle school into your first year of high school, but by then you had cemented your place in this little friend group. You were pretty sure your debates over music had helped you win over Tsukishima. At the very least, they helped you understand him better. His song suggestions felt like snapshots into his mood or the way he viewed the world. You wondered if he knew how much he told you through those songs when he couldn’t hide behind snide remarks and sneers.

“Ah, look at this. The hotshot volleyball star graces us with his presence before taking off for the week,” you said in a teasing tone as Tsukishima and Yamaguchi met you at your locker after school. The Shiratorizawa first year training camp started tomorrow, and you were taking every opportunity you could to tease your friend about it. You’d noticed a heightened intent when he went to practice as though his attitude toward the sport had changed somehow. You knew he was excited about his invitation to this camp even though he didn’t say anything.

“Whatever.” There’s a hint of scorn in his voice as he brushes off your jest, but you’re not bothered by it. His “whatever” is the refrain he’s given you, like telling Yamaguchi to shut up. You were used to him hiding his feelings behind his words.

“You’ll be gone all week, right Tsukki?” your freckled friend asked.

“Right.”

“A whole week free of the king of the court and that annoying tangerine,” you said, mocking the way he sometimes talked about his teammates. “I bet that’ll be fun. Though you’ll have to work hard, and you won’t get to hang out with Yamaguchi all day, which sucks.”

“You won’t get to hang out with him or me, so who’s the real loser here?”

“Definitely me,” you sighed, leaning against Yamaguchi. He patted your shoulder consolingly.

“You could always help Kiyoko and Yachi while we practice.”

“I’d rather not work harder than I have to during break.”

“Then you’ll have plenty of time to listen to these.” Tsukishima tossed the music notebook at you. You barely reacted fast enough to catch it.

“Hey, I was wondering where this went.” You flipped to the new list and skimmed over it. “Did you pick any good ones?”

“Obviously,” he smirked. “Come on Yamaguchi.”

“Have fun,” you called as they headed off to practice. “Let me know if you get bored of volleyball and want to hang.”

“Bye Y/N.” Yamaguchi waved before turning to say something to Tsukishima. Your taller friend didn’t turn back or spare you a farewell, but that wasn’t uncommon. You’d message them both later anyway.

You didn’t get around to the new song recommendations until the next day. After sleeping in a reasonable amount and enjoying an easy morning, you flopped onto your bed. You compiled the songs into a playlist on your computer, put on your headphones, and hit play.

For your first listen, you always laid back and stared at your ceiling, letting the music spill over you uninterrupted. The second and third listens were for writing notes and preparing your reviews for the debates. Anything beyond that was purely for enjoyment.

After jotting your notes for this round, you let the playlist cycle into some of Tsukishima’s past recommendations. You enjoyed most of the songs he’d suggested lately, and part of you wondered if he was taking your tastes into account or if your preferences had shifted the more you’d been exposed to his. You flipped through the notebook to revisit the past playlists, laughing to yourself over some of the notes on the pages. It was amusing to see how your handwriting had changed over the years.

You’d run out of blank pages in the notebook soon. You wondered if Tsukishima would want to continue these music exchanges, or if they’d fall to the wayside as high school and activities demanded more time and attention. You began counting how many pages were left when some script on the final page made you stop.

You reread the top line twice to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Songs that make me think of you. You sat up and looked at the page carefully. There were a dozen songs on the list, and from the variance in script and ink color, you knew he must have added songs as they struck him. When had he started the playlist? How long had he been working on it? He hadn’t written any notes next to the titles, so you weren’t sure what his intentions were, but you felt a pleasant squeeze in your chest.

You listened to that playlist four or five times uninterrupted, and each time you felt like you better understood what he was saying through the music. You could feel the blush rising in your cheeks along with a feeling of happiness. You’d been keeping your growing crush on Tsukishima a secret. You never would have guessed he might feel the same, and based on the evidence that he’d been working on this playlist for a while, he’d been keeping his feelings a secret for a while, too.

You spent the rest of the afternoon figuring out how to respond. Even if it was unexpectedly sudden, you knew you needed to act on this revelation today. After dinner, you bundled up in your winter gear, grabbed the notebook, and headed over to his house. You waited nearly an hour, pacing up and down his block, until you finally saw him walking home from the bus stop. He slowed a little when he spotted you, pushing his headphones off of his ears to around his neck.

“Hi,” you greeted, feeling a little awkward but determined to get this over with.

“What are you doing?” He was being careful by keeping his tone neutral, but you could tell he was curious.

“I listened to your playlist.”

“Okay.”

“Both of them.”

“Oh.” You could almost see his guard come up. You understood him so easily, you were amazed you hadn’t noticed his feelings before now.

“I made a playlist for you,” you said, opening the notebook and handing it to him. He took it and looked over your selections, keeping his features neutral. Waiting for him to react was torture, but you let him process the situation at his own pace. After all, you’d just sprung this on him, whereas you’d had all afternoon to acclimate to the idea of sharing feelings.

“There are too many genre jumps,” he said eventually, and you rolled your eyes as he critiqued the flow of the playlist. “It’s like listening whiplash.”

“It’s not about the listening experience, it’s about the message of the songs,” you said. “If I’d expected you to actually listen to it, I would have put in more effort.”

“Maybe I should wait for you to put in that effort,” he smirked, handing you the notebook.

“Tsukishima,” you said. The seriousness of your tone made his smirk drop back to a neutral expression. “I know I’m kind of going out on a limb here, but I think I understood what you were trying to say with that secret playlist. The truth is, I’ve liked you for a while, in a more-than-friends way, and based on the songs you picked, I think you might like me that way too. So I picked a bunch of songs about falling in love and asking someone out to see if maybe you’d like to be my boyfriend.”

The emotional confession left you a little lightheaded, and you almost couldn’t look at him, but you did, and you saw the way his stare softened a little.

“After you redo that playlist,” he said, walking past you to go inside.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no.” He turned back at the door. “Depends on how good the playlist is.”

You knew he was teasing you. He wasn’t shallow enough to make his decision solely based on your musical tastes, but you were willing to play along.

“Fine,” you agreed with a grin. “Tomorrow night, I’ll have the best asking-you-out playlist you’ve ever heard, so be ready to be my boyfriend.”

“Whatever,” he said, but the corner of his mouth lifted in a genuine grin as he glanced at you one more time before heading inside.

#haikyuu!!#hq #tsukishima kei #tsukishima #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu!! fanfic #haikyuu!! scenarios #hq fanfiction #hq fanfic #hq scenarios #fluffvember #music #fluff #tsukki #tsukki x reader

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mutilatedmadonna · 3 years

Text

A Heart To Heart Conversation (Not Literally Jesus Christ Where Did You Even Get That)

YOOOOOO made it with one hour to spare but ya girl still has her submission for the @secret-shifters gift exchange! This is for the lovely and talented @hiddendreamer67 who I was so fucking excited to write for! Also side note, I started a fic before this one but it was taking too long for my taste so I popped out this sucker instead. That being said like............why waste a perfectly good fic.............why not finish it eventually...........and still gift it to her since it’s techinically her prompt lmaoooo

I will go back and edit this post to include the AO3 link when I publish it :3c

Anyways

Warnings: Mild depictions of gore, fearplay; obviously, it’s all I know how to write whoops

Some people are great talkers, others are fantastic listeners. Some listen so well, in fact, they’re willing to destroy a government lab for you.

“Stop, please, I don’t want to hurt you!”

As if Derrick stood a fucking chance against the massive creature that was currently inching closer to him, crouched low to fit within the compound’s hallways. The alarm ringing was making his head pound, an unfortunate addition to his dizziness he’d been overcome with as soon as he saw the first body. Well, bodies. It had wiped out nearly every scientist and researcher in that sector as soon as it was freed from its cage, growling and hissing all the while as it dug its teeth and nails into the panicking humans. How it escaped at all was still a mystery and probably forever would be. As soon as it clawed its way through the protective lockdown doors into gen pop, all hell really broke loose. Guards tried and failed to take it down, hoping to wound the monster at best so that it could be recontained, but even as more backup arrived with heavier artillery, they never stood a chance. It was fast, it was strong, it was pissed, and it seemed to have a taste for blood and bones.

He didn’t know if it had any sort of plan beyond escaping the observational cage it had been trapped in for years, seemingly going into halls and sectors at random to slaughter the hapless scientists seeking refuge. The only reason Derrick had survived this long was simply because he ran and he continued to run. There was no use trying to hide, it was too good at tracking, so instead he did his damnedest to stay ahead of it. It had been working pretty well until he was stopped by the door at the last hall, a dead end to safety potentially. The only problem being his fucking keycard wasn’t high enough clearance to open it. He could hear it getting closer, hear the screams and crunch of bodies and deep growls that echoed all around. His breathing became more ragged the louder the sounds grew, knowing it was just one final turn away from being at the far end of the hall with a straight shot right to Derrick. No, no, no, he didn’t want to die like this. Not at the hands of this beast, not at the hands of...shit, what he thought was almost his friend.

It was his job to observe the creature in its confinement at night and take excruciating notes about every sigh and twitch it might make. It was truly as boring as it sounded, especially when the creature was awake a majority of his shift but only laid on the floor, quiet and still. It looked depressed and Derrick didn’t blame it. It had long since been locked away before he had even started at the organization, subjected to trials and tests day in and day out for hours so that the scientists could jot down these amazing discoveries. He had no idea what they planned on doing with all this data they were collecting given that this whole place was top secret, the creature certainly never meant to see the light of day. Or rather, people were never meant to see the creature. It’d cause mass hysteria. So, one evening, a few hours into the terribly dull silence he started talking aloud. Not to anyone in particular and not about anything exciting, just idle chit chat with the wall, really.

He never expected the creature to perk up at the sound of his voice, eyeing him curiously as he continued on. He certainly never expected to turn his head back towards the massive bay window to see it sitting much closer than before. Still watching him with wide, yellow eyes and tilting its head when he quickly shut his mouth. It had never moved so close before, hell it never even showed interest in him before beyond a few glances when he’d first enter the small overhanging room. At the same time, it didn’t appear aggressive or annoyed with his mindless ramblings. In fact, when he had stayed quiet for a minute during their staring contest, it chirped at him. Like it was...encouraging him to talk again. So he did, nervously at first before getting back into the flow of whatever random thought he had at the moment. And every time the creature would just sit and listen, its full attention on Derrick, with the occasional dozing off in the midst of his longer topics. He wasn’t sure how much it actually understood him. After all, it never listened to any directions it was given during another trial, but then again that could have just been out of spite and defiance. It didn’t speak English to his knowledge as it had never once given him a reply, but that didn’t mean it didn’t know it.

It never really responded, but there were quite a few times it would react to whatever he was saying. He theorized it was basing most of its assumptions off of whatever emotion he was portraying in his speeches. When he was visibly upset about some incident with Travis down in aquatics, it would whine. When he was excited about some great news he was dying to share with someone, it would chirp. When he was exhausted for one reason or another, unable to keep his eyes open or his stories coherent, it would purr. Almost as if it was trying to lull him to sleep, which it succeeded in every time with its soft white noise. If he were to be honest, he genuinely looked forward to his evening shift just about every day. Derrick could get so much shit out of his head and off his chest without having to worry about what the creature would think about him later. Maybe this was just a trick of the mind, but...it almost seemed just as happy to see him as soon as he would appear in that bay window, immediately twitching its ears up and moving closer.

Clearly, the mutual bond was not reciprocated.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, why the fuck would the creature like him? He was just another human that stared at him for science and soon enough he’d be just another human ground under its palm until his organs burst. Perhaps it just liked hearing the sound of his voice, anything being better than the silence it was constantly surrounded in, or maybe it had always been sizing him up for a snack. He had never written any of these emotional reactions down. He didn’t...well, it was hard to put in the right words, but he just didn’t want his superiors to have that knowledge that could understand feelings for the most part. That it appeared to like him. That it could be docile. Almost like he was trying to protect it from more severe and psychological tests they would surely run. He wondered if things would be different if he actually did report his findings, like if they could have prevented whatever triggered its rage strong enough to rip down doors and walls.

It was creeping closer now, claws clicking along the concrete floor. It was absolutely soaked in blood, especially around its mouth and hands. The way its tail jerked side to side reminded him of an irritated cat, which he didn’t take as a good sign. It wasn’t like Derrick actually had something to protect himself with like he so claimed. His bluff was called in an instant and it made a throaty rumble in response to his threat. It had been difficult to see at a distance with the flashing, red light acting almost as a cheap strobe, but now that it was only a few yards away, he could very clearly tell there was something hanging from its mouth. Something large and dripping and red and oh Christ it was a body. He hoped the poor bastard wasn’t alive anymore for mercy’s sake, firmly clamped between its jaws and impaled on its fangs. Was that a sign of things to come for him? He pressed as much as he could against the lock door in a vain attempt to somehow phase through to the other side and reach safety. With no such luck, he slid down to sit on the floor instead and covered his head with his arms curling in tightly on himself. He was shaking something terrible and tears still managed to find a way to escape his shut eyes. This was never how he imagined he’d meet his end, but either way he didn’t want to see it coming. Maybe if it did like him just a smidge, it would grant him a quick and painless death. He doubted it, though. It sounded like it enjoyed the struggles of its prey far too much.

Derrick could tell when it was hovering right above him. Its shadow engulfed him, blood dripped steadily into a puddle in front of him, spreading out across the floor until it actually touched his shoes. Fuck, he couldn’t help the sob that escaped him. He was scared. Strangely enough, it didn’t...do anything to him as seconds ticked by agonizingly slow. Staring at him, he presumed? Just how it would when there was a safety window between them. Something heavy landed in front of him with a disgusting squish, splattering more blood onto him. When the silence stretched on again, he hesitantly cracked open an eye to see what was supposedly laying at his feet and immediately wished he didn’t.

It was fucking Travis. Or what was left of him, anyways, torn to shreds and missing a few vital chunks from his body. Derrick wanted to throw up, but his throat was already choked up with more panicked cries. He looked away from the corpse, not wanting to take in anymore of the gory details and instead looked at the face of the creature. It didn’t look upset in the slightest, not like how angered it had been dismembering every other unlucky human in its path. Instead, it just stared back at him with those same wide, yellow eyes, tilting its head at Derrick’s lack of reaction. It leaned down to nudge the body closer to him with its nose, pushing it against his legs and rumbling curiously. No, no, no, get it off, get it off!

“S-stop! I don’t fucking w-want it!” He cried, kicking his legs out to shove the remains away from him. What was he supposed to do with it anyways!? Why was it showing off its latest kill, like it was seeking his approval, like it--

...like it did it for him.

The night before last, he and Travis got into it again in the break room. He was already pissed about being transferred to the division the creature was in and leaving his previous work behind. It could have been because Derrick happened to be the only one there or because he was one of the younger hires, the asshole decided to take his frustration out on him instead. Snide comments turned into full on insults and all Derrick wanted was some goddamn coffee before he clocked out. Waiting for the machine to finish brewing wasn’t worth it at this point, he could pick up a cup somewhere else on the way home. He tried to leave, but Travis blocked the doorway and he, not being in the fucking mood, tried to shoulder past him instead. It was very much not appreciated as the next thing he knew he was being pinned against the wall, the lapels of his coat clenched in his fist. He was absolutely ready to throw hands with this guy before he backed off suddenly, another coworker entering the break room with a cheery greeting and total obliviousness.

Maybe he should have told his superiors about the incident, but he chose instead to vent about it to the creature the next night. As soon as he mentioned when it got physical, its ears flatten back and it growled, though Derrick was too consumed by his own emotions to really care about its apparent threat display. After that was when it had clawed its way to freedom and started its rampage. That...that couldn’t have been what set it off though, right? There had to be other catalysts surely. However, it didn’t change the fact how eagerly it was presenting the mauled corpse of his aggressor, almost as if to say look! For you!

Did that mean...it really did understand him? It understood enough that Travis had tried to attack him and he was not his biggest fan right now. He had been really worked up during that little rant, too, probably making it sound worse than it actually was. Either way, it didn’t like that and took matters into its own hands. Or, mouth rather. This must be its interpretation of protecting him, killing the threat before it could strike again. Good thing he wasn’t one to usually bad mouth coworkers or the creature possibly could have had its massacre sparked by Derrick being mildly annoyed that Sarah always forgot to clean out the coffee filter when she was done.

The creature looked at the body as it was kicked back towards it, whining slightly. Was it upset that he didn’t accept its gracious tribute? That wouldn’t start another fit of anger, would it? He thought it just might when he scoot forward those remaining few injuries to press its face against Derrick’s trembling body. Its bloody mouth transferred an unfortunate amount of gore onto his clothing, but he had other things to worry about, like how close its fucking mouth full of fangs was to his more important organs. The nose buried into his chest rubbed gently, trailing up his neck and to the side of his head. Purrs rumbled with each quiet breath, taking care not to accidentally deafen him. He still cried out when the creature invaded his personal space, though he didn’t have much room to struggle as he was pinned between the door and the face. He whimpered regardless, trying to turn his head to avoid being nuzzled and ultimately failing.

If he thought the impromptu cuddling was bad, he was in for a worse shock when the creature pulled back just a hair, foolishly thinking that it finally had its fill of smelling him or scenting him or what the fuck ever. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, not when a black tongue darted out from smiling lips to lick him from his stomach to the crown of his head in one, quick swipe. Now that made him actually scream out some sort of pathetic, strangled sound, squirming about as he was lapped again and again and again.

“N-no, don’t, p-please!” He begged uselessly, “D-don’t kill m-me, please, p-please, don’t e-eat me!”

Much to his surprise, the creature actually pulled away from him after that last remark, tilting its head questioningly again. While Derrick was in the middle of his panic attack, doing his damnedest to keep his cries from becoming too harsh, it crossed its arms and rested its head on them, watching as he tried to collect himself to no avail. When it seemed like he was starting to slip deeper into his episode, it started to purr. Quiet and soft, a nice noise to help drown out that increasingly annoying siren. And the worst part was that he really was actually starting to calm down. Not that he liked being so scared he couldn’t breathe, but it was the sheer fact that it was the creature bringing him comfort when it was the one who terrified him in the first place. His sobs quieted down after a few minutes and when they were ragged breaths instead, it started to chitter. Little chirps and purrs and throaty noises he could only assume were directed at him since that’s where it was staring so intently, though the sounds meant nothing to him. Was that how it felt when he used to talk to it for hours on end?

Was it trying to talk to him to soothe him, because him talking to it made it feel relaxed?

He supposed their time together was a much needed break from being poked and prodded and tested and it started to associate Derrick with that mini luxury. The talking probably gave it a sense of company considering he had no fucking clue if and where other members of its species resided. Maybe this friendship wasn’t as one sided as he thought. Maybe it cared so much about the stupid little human that would blather his entire shift that it was willing to rip the facility inside out just to get rid of his bully. One by one his muscles started to uncoil their tension until he was sagging against the door. His breathing was still labored, but he could at least get a steady breath through his nose rather than his gasping mouth. A minute tremor in his hands was all that was left of his previous quivering and his headache was now replaced with a cloudy exhaustion. The creature was still making its imitation noises, only tapering off when Derrick managed to raise his head up and look at it.

“You won’t hurt me...will you?” His voice was so small and weak, it was a good thing the creature had fairly strong hearing.

It responded by bumping its nose into his chest again, smiling all the while. Affection. It liked him. Hesitantly, he raised a hand and gingerly placed it on the creature’s cheek, giving it a tiny pat.

“...you...you know we’re fucked when the army comes...right?” They were a last resort when all other failsafes went south and had yet to be deactivated. It wasn’t their job to find and help survivors, it was their job to make sure nothing about this event was leaked into the public. Be it the experiment itself or scientists who could potentially blackmail the directors.

It shifted to push itself back into a crouched position, lowering towards him with its mouth open. He flinched and turned away which seemed to be exactly what it wanted, clamping down on the back of his shirt and jacket and narrowly missing giving his back a nasty scrape. Derrick all but squeaked in surprise when he felt himself be lifted up, dangling a few dozen feet in the air. It was like he had the same POV as the creature, watching its hands paw at the locked door until claws were able to scratch through the metal in large gouges. Wiring and mechanics were exposed as a result and with a little more tearing and pulling, it opened the entry wide enough for it to slip through, Derrick in tow. Huh. Guess keycards we’re always a necessity.

He hadn’t the faintest idea where they were headed, but it seemed like the creature had a general sense of direction and so far it was taking the correct route to the surface, to outside. For the moment, he didn’t have a single thing to say and simply let himself sway with the creature’s gait. Its intentions with him after they escaped into the world above were pretty vague at best, but he couldn’t really find the energy to care right now. As long as the military hadn’t beaten them to the exit, they’d be fine.

They could talk later about their really unconventional future later.

#secret shifters 2020 #g/t #gaint/tiny #fearplay #macro/micro #g/t fearplay #my fics #oh my god i hope you like it #im sorry if the paragraphs are kind clunky???#google docs and tumblr and ao3 all format them differently otz #also my beta is asleep so guess what hasn't been proofread because this girl has no reading comprehension #MEEEEEEEEE #but also like for real i hope you like it #and if not #i give you permission to curse me

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