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honnelander · 9 months

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go fish! part 2

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

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.8k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

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

prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123

Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still.

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

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

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

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

Sanji. Ugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were hopeless.

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

"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Try me,” he encouraged softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Did Sanji just say he loved you?

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

You sighed.

Those better be some good boiled potatoes.

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dumplingsjinson · 1 year

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List of “friends don’t look at friends that way” prompts

“Your mouth says you don’t like me but the way you stare at me tells me everything I need to know.”

“Stop staring at me like that, it’s making me feel things I don’t want to feel.”

“Your eyes are always on them.” “…Are they? I haven’t noticed.”

“You’re being very unsubtle with your heart eyes for them.”

“You look like you want to devour them.” “Shut the fuck up, that is so not true.”

“Why do you always look at me like that?” “Like what?” “Like you… Want me.”

“You staring at me like that is giving me false hopes so I’m going to need you to stop.”

“So like… Do you like them or something?” “Why would you think that? How could you think that?” “Because you keep staring at them like you’re in love or something.”

“Stop eyeing them like they’re a piece of snack, you fucking weirdass.” “The fuck? I do not do that, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I can’t help but stare at you because you’re just so…” “So…?” “Breathtaking. You’re breathtaking.”

#friends to lovers prompts #friends to lovers #otp prompts #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #fluff prompts #angst prompts #idiots in denial #prompts #listen to tate mcrae's that way the title is inspired by that song #that song had me writing a whole 10k oneshot for one of my ships lmfao

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feralforfrank · 1 year

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EVERYTHING WILL BE JUST FINE.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

summary the aftermath of the mission that almost causes the loss of your life.

cw description of a panic attack (reader has one), canon codmw2 violence & mentions of it, feeeeeeelingssssss, hurt/comfort, atp mutual pining & idiots in love. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. TELL ME IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!!!

a/n some people asked for part two, sooooo!!! i delivered :)

masterlist | taglist

When you opened your eyes, it was because of the horrid images that haunted your eyelids. You woke with a gasp and a ripple of pain spreading through your whole body. The room was dark and cold, but you felt the soft mattress underneath you begging to swallow your exhausted body.

It all came to you slowly. The mission, the men trying to escape with your team's hidden car, you leaving your post and sneaking behind them, fighting them, and managing to get stabbed two times. The pain in your side was becoming more and more apparent now.

A flash of Ghost holding you in his arms makes you tense. He'd come to your rescue. Called you darling. Held you in his arms and reassured you that you'd be okay. You're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed. I can fix it.

Your heart fluttered, and your gaze blurred with tears. It wasn't right to have a crush on your superior, but you couldn't help yourself. Everything about Simon Riley fascinated you—from his continuous silences and intense glares to his very attractive build. You didn't need to see his face to know he was drop-dead gorgeous. The mask was one of the things that made Ghost even hotter.

But it was wrong. Ghost's your lieutenant, your superior, and there was no way he'd ever feel the same way about you anyway. You doubt he could feel love sometimes. He cared for his team, that's for sure, but this line of work didn't allow deep and romantic sentiments.

The jiggle of the door handle snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped, causing your wounds to throb. A poorly contained whimper escaped your lips. Your heart sped up in fear, and your left hand tried to look for the knife strapped to your left thigh.

Fuck, it's not there.

The silhouette slips in, and you swear your heart feels about to leap from your throat. A tear slides down your cheek as the man approaches your side. Shit, he's here to kill you. Finish you for what you did to his companions.

In your panicked haze and blurred gaze, you don't hear Simon calling your name. You see him set down a tray next to your head, and fuck—he's going to torture you first? Where the fuck is Ghost? Soap? Gaz?

"K-Kyle?" You try, but your voice is hoarse and not as loud as intended.

Your gaze falls to the door, and you call Johnny's name. Then Simon's. You plead, but it's still not loud enough. More tears slide down your face, your ears ring, and your body shakes under the blanket.

"—ocus! Focus on me, Owl! You're safe here!" The man calls your name. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, darlin'."

Darlin'.

Darlin'. Darlin'!

Ghost.

And suddenly, the ringing in your ears subsides, and panic isn't bubbling hot in your blood. You feel his hands now, touching your bare shoulders—cold fingers touching scorching skin—shaking you to pull you out of your living nightmare.

"It's okay, lovie. S'alright. You're alright." He shushes you, sitting next to your feet.

"Help me up," you whisper.

Ghost reluctantly helps you sit up, gently touching your wrists. He towers over you to adjust the thin pillows on your back. Your gaze never leaves him. He's rid himself of the tactical vest, only wearing his tight-as-shit shirt, pants, and of course, his balaclava. Thank fuck, it's not the skull one. You melt at how he cares for you, despite you having fucked up the whole operation.

He grabs a bottle of water from the tray, and you have to remind yourself that it doesn't carry torture devices. The man in front of you is Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, not the enemy. You gulp the water greedily like you've been walking in the desert under the scorching heat for hours.

"Want another one?" He asks. You shake your head.

There's a pause. The silence isn't tense but not comfortable. The nagging guilt—from both of you—holds you back from being truly open with each other.

You should've never left your post. The team would've been able to escape without the car anyway. Your thoughts are never-ending.

Simon wants to punch himself. He shouldn't have had to carry you to the car. The guilt of letting you get hurt punctured a hole in his chest.

A sniff brought him back. "I'm sorry."

He looks at you. Stares at you with those emotionless eyes, and you hate it. You hate that you can't guess what he's thinking. You'd fucked up that much is true.

"Fuck—" You hiccup and look away from him. "I didn't mean to. I panicked. I thought—I don't know what I thought. I'm sorry, Ghost, truly—"

"What're you sorry for?" His hard tone startles you.

You look at him, confused more than ever. "I fucked up the mission. Got hurt in the process too. We would've been in base by now had it not been for my fuck-up."

"You protected the team."

"No, I put my team and this mission in jeopardy."

"You took care of a threat, Sargeant." His tone was final. "You did your job. Greatly."

You inhale deeply, your eyes meeting Simon's. His gaze is like stone, but you can see the glint of pride he has for you.

"I was so scared." Fuck you for tearing up again. You felt weak.

You look down at your hands. The light slipping through the open door allows you to see the dark colour they have. Your blood—God, you hope it's yours—stains your palms and reaches up to your wrists.

"I told you I'd fix it," Simon says, and you melt at his words. "Fixed you up pretty good, all things considered."

It makes you laugh. The timing isn't great, but the chuckle escapes before you can stop it.

"Thank you, Ghost. I owe you big time."

He shakes his head. "Don't mention it. I'm your Lt. I'm supposed to keep you safe and alive."

Lt.

I'm your Lt.

It stings. You want him to call you darling and lovie again. You purse your lips and nod your head, feeling awkward thinking such thoughts with him present.

"Thank you." You pause, looking for something to ask Ghost—so he doesn't leave. You can't be alone right now. "Where are we?"

"Deep in the woods. They can't find us here."

Pursing your lips, you nod, feeling relieved. The silence returns, and Ghost exhales. "That's soup and meds for the pain. Not much, though. I don't want you passing out."

He stands to leave, and you jump, completely forgetting about the stitched wounds. "Where are you going?" Simon stills at the fear in your voice.

"Leaving?"

It comes out as a question—not what he'd intended. He was fighting the urge to show you how scared he'd been—and still is—after almost having you dead in his arms. The sentimental feelings toward you are growing stronger every second he spends with you, and it's dangerous. He has to stop permitting himself to feel. To hope that one day you'll feel the same for him. God, he feels like a teenager just thinking these thoughts.

But how can he not hope? When you look at him with wide, terrified eyes, swimming in unshed tears. When you're gripping the bowl of soup, he made carefully just for you, silently pleading with him to sit a tad bit longer.

He can see your lips tremble, but you hide it well by pursing them. The words are on your tongue, but you can't bring yourself to ask him to stay because fuck. How much more can you ask from this man? He saved you, patched you up, made you food, and now you wanted him to stay, purely out of fear. It's embarrassing to request this, especially in your line of work.

So, Simon decides to do it for you. "Unless you want me to stay?"

Your expression is shocked, but you eagerly nod before he can change his mind. You scooch to make room for his big frame on the small bed, and he actually manages to lay next to you, a hand draped on the bedframe to pull you closer.

You feel safe. Simon tends to make people feel this way. It's not only his large frame but how he carries himself and shows affection to the people he cares about. It doesn't matter if you talk or stay silent—he prefers silence—Ghost's presence is relaxing enough for you to eat your soup and drink your meds.

And when you finish, he grabs the bowl and places it next to him. When you start to drift off and snuggle closer to steal his warmth, he forces his tense shoulders to loosen and pulls you closer. He kisses the top of your head, and your hair tickles his cold nose even through his balaclava.

He knows his back will ache from the uncomfortable position he's sitting in, but he doesn't care because you're alive. Alive and safe. In his arms. And it's all that matters right now.

previous | next

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[ taglist: @master-amidala, @darklordofthesimp (i'm finally writing for this fandom! ]

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andreafmn · 21 days

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Kinktober ⛓️ Day 26

Word Count: 4.0K Paring: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Requested by @elizabeth916: "Supernatural" Prompt @kinktober2023: Masturbation WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), slight voyeurism, vaginal fingering, masturbation, joint masturbation

Summary: After a hard life and a close brush with death via vampire, (Y/N) is taken in by Bobby Singer and taught the way of the hunters, even if that was the last thing he wanted for her. Add Dean and Sam Winchester into the mix, and she's more involved in the hunter lifestyle than before. Now, Dean is always always at odds with the girl. Even if he was the one who asked her to join them, he's always the one getting in her way. Sam says it's because he's in love with her. (Y/N) just thinks he's stubborn. One way or another, she's gonna find out they're both kind of right.

A/N: whoop, still doing this, I will try to finish before this october 🫣🫣 I've only gotten to season 5 of Supernatural so sorry this isn't more canon-centric

MASTERLIST

Constantly being on the road provided little privacy. Being the only girl in a team of hunters made it harder to have some. Being the only girl in a team of hunters that were brothers made it nearly impossible to have any.

But (Y/N) couldn’t complain. The Winchesters were the closest thing she had to a family, and they needed her help.

She had lost her parents at a young age and had made a life for herself as best as she could. She was sent from foster home to foster home until, at eighteen, she met Bobby Singer by chance during one of his hunts.

A couple of days before, she had been kidnapped by a young vampire as she walked from work and took her back to his nest, where she was fed upon from the moment she arrived. She believed she’d die there with nothing to show for her life other than a rundown apartment and a shitty waitressing job.

But just as everything had seemed bleak, Bobby had come in swinging a machete around and killed every single one of the vampires that had resided in the abandoned warehouse. Seeing the girl who was barely clinging to life, the man took her back to his motel and waited until she had regained consciousness.

He was sure she would scream, try to run away, or even hit him. Yet all she did was flutter her eyes open and thank him. She wasn’t afraid, nor was she angry. She had simply accepted what had happened to her as something else she had to deal with.

“You really ain’t scared of everything I just told you?” he had asked her that night as they ate some burgers. “I mean, I just told you that you almost died because of vampires, and you were more surprised that they put pickles in your burger.”

“I’ve dealt with worse shit in my life to find the supernatural unbelievable,” she shrugged. “With how my life goes, dying from a vampire is the least of my worries.”

Bobby had only met one other teenager as nonchalant and used to peril, and he had not been able to help him as much as he wanted to. But he knew he would always regret if he left (Y/N) to her own devices after meeting her. So, Bobby offered her a chance at a different life. Going against everything he had ever believed, he offered her a room at his place and a new job. And she said yes.

That answer had changed her entire existence.

(Y/N) took to the hunting lifestyle rapidly, finding it easier than being an eighteen-year-old girl living by herself in a sketchy part of town. She invested all her time and energy to get stronger and faster, wanting nothing more than to become better and better.

Bobby tried his best to keep her life balanced, especially after seeing what the hunting life had done to John Winchester’s sons, Dean and Sam. For years, he pushed her to have a social life and do things normal young people would. Still, he couldn’t squander her determination. So, when Dean called her up one day to help him and his brother find their father, she quickly agreed, much to Bobby’s dismay.

But once her mind was set on something, there wasn't much he could do; all he could do was hope she’d one day come back safe and sound.

And that was the day she had lost all sense of privacy. The trio jumped from motel to motel, and there was not enough money for two rooms. Thankfully, there always were two beds and sometimes a rickety couch, not that it helped the choking sexual tension between (Y/N) and the older Winchester.

From the moment they met, there was an undeniable chemistry between them. Sure, Dean flirted with anything that walked on two legs, but it was different with (Y/N). He wanted much more than just a one-night lay with her. He wanted the entire package–the apple pie life he’d dreamed of.

But he wanted something different for her—something better than what he could offer. Like Bobby, he didn’t want her involved in the hunting business. He had even begged Bobby not to let her go. But Sam was right. If they had any chance of finding their father, it would have been with her by their side. Just because he had agreed to let her tag along did not mean he didn’t worry whenever they were on a mission. If he wasn’t making sure that Sam wasn’t hurt, he was worried that (Y/N) was, and more often than not, his concern came out more like hostility rather than worry.

Much like their latest case. The three of them were sat at a diner, a giant breakfast spread on the table before them, and the only one eating was Dean. (Y/N) and Sam had their noses buried in books and laptops, trying to gather all information they could about a particular nest of vampires that had made their home in a small town outside of Detroit.

The case was particularly personal for (Y/N). The vamps that had been running amok the town had been the same ones that had almost taken her life many years before. Just like Bobby had told her, they left an item of the person they abducted with a star drawn in their blood at the place they were taken from. The creatures looked for easy targets and always hunted in the darkest corners of the night.

Now, (Y/N) had a plan to get to their nest, but it seemed she was the only one who thought it was a good one. “I’m just saying that it’s worth a try,” she whispered as she sipped her coffee. “I can make myself a target, and they’ll think it’s fucking divine intervention that they got the one that got away. Then you guys can follow and kill them all. I don’t see what’s so bad about that.”

“Are you fucking serious, (Y/N)?” Dean seethed. “They could kill you on the spot. It’s too risky.”

“It’s the only plan we’ve got right now that could actually end this,” she countered. “Even Sam thinks that it’s good.”

“All I said was that it could technically work,” the younger Winchester defended. “But I also agree with Dean that it’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t care if I get hurt as long as we get them.”

“It’s not about you getting hurt, (Y/N),” Dean spat, slamming what was left of his sandwich onto the plate. “It’s about you fucking dying.”

“Well, it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she countered with the same anger. “It’s my life we’re talking about here, Dean. Not yours.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable!” he exclaimed through gritted teeth as he got up, grabbing his jacket in the process. “I’ll be in the room. I need to cool off.”

Sam and (Y/N) watched as the older Winchester left the diner, a cloud of steam almost visible in his step. It wasn’t the first time he had stormed out that way; it was his standard practice when things weren’t going according to his plan. But that moment, in particular, felt different. The energy was different.

“Okay, he needs to get over himself,” the girl muttered as she slouched in her seat, her arms crossed across her chest. “You guys cannot be the only ones allowed to sacrifice yourselves for the greater good. I know I can get hurt. I signed up for this job just like you guys did.”

“I don’t know who’s more oblivious,” Sam snickered as he popped a slice of bacon in his mouth. “You seriously don’t understand why he acts like that with you?”

“Because he’s a total douche with a god-complex?”

“No, idiot,” he laughed. “Because he likes you and cares about what happens to you.”

“Oh, come on, Sammy. We’ve been through this before,” (Y/N) said. “The only things Dean Winchester cares about are his car and you. I don’t even fall in the top five.”

“Jesus, you’re both just so stubborn,” he sighed, rubbing his temples. “Go talk to him, and then tell me if he doesn’t care.”

“He’s just gonna fight with me.”

“Go, (Y/N),” Sam exclaimed. “And actually talk to him.”

“Fine!” the young woman finally relented. “But you’re getting stuck with the research then.”

“Like that’s ever changed,” he scoffed jokingly. “Now, go.”

(Y/N) took the short walk back to the motel as slowly as she could, kicking a rock in her step as she fiddled with the key. It wasn’t the first time Sam had hinted at Dean’s supposed feelings for her. It had become his one source of teasing material since they had met for the first time. But she had always taken it as a joke, nothing more—just a quip a little brother used to bother his older brother. There was no way there was any truth to it. And if going to the room proved that, then that was what (Y/N) had to do.

As she neared the motel, she caught a glimpse of Baby, and a slight chuckle bubbled in her throat. That car was Dean’s one true love, and she knew that. He treated his vehicle better than any of the women he paraded in and out of their motel rooms or even the ones who never made it out of the bars. Hell, he treated it better than her or Sam at times.

That was the reason she had never admitted her feelings in the almost eight years she had known him. (Y/N) knew they wouldn’t be reciprocated. Dean had never given a single indication that he’d ever share her sentiment. Well, other than Sam’s words. But who could believe him then?

All she needed was one sign. A simple whisper from the universe that he did share in those feelings. That the reason he fought with her so much was because there were so many emotions bottled up inside him that he couldn’t help how they came out. Just one sign.

“(Y/N),” she heard an exhale as she neared the motel door. It was raspy and guttural, and she knew it had not come from the wind. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

She could have been dreaming. In the supernatural world, anything was possible. But the metal doorknob felt too cold in her hand, and the key turned too loudly for it to be her imagination. Behind that door, a scene was unfolding that surpassed her wildest fantasies, and she was the main character without knowing it.

(Y/N) opened the door slowly, pulling it upward to avoid the whining of the hinges, and she came face-to-face with something she could have only dreamed of. In fact, she was sure she had dreamt it before.

Dean was splayed in the middle of her bed, his hard cock in one hand and a pair of her underwear in the other. He ran his hand up and down his length, easing his pumping with the leaking precum that stained him. After every few strokes, he’d bring the piece of fabric to his face, taking a long drag before muttering (Y/N)’s name once more.

His eyes were pressed shut, and his movements were erratic. Dean was close, that much she could tell. She could see it in the way he breathed, in the way his hips stuttered, and the way his skin had grown red and flushed. Dean was reaching his climax with her name spilling from his tongue.

“So fucking stubborn,” he croaked out as his seed spilled all over his stomach. “(Y/N), fu~uck.”

“Good to know my underwear didn’t just disappear three months ago,” she grinned as she finally made herself known. “Didn’t take you for a panty sniffer, Deanie.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean exclaimed as he tried his best to cover himself. He pulled the sheets from under himself, pulling too hard and falling to the floor with a loud thud. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to know who you were thinking about,” (Y/N) taunted as she approached him. His legs were still on the bed, and his jeans pooled around his ankles while the sheet covered the rest of his body. At any given time, she would have made fun of him; tease him until he begged her to stop. But the heat that pooled between her legs had blurred her mind, and all that she wanted was to replace the hand that was working him. “Something you wanna tell me, Dean?”

“God, you’re insufferable,” Dean huffed as he tried to get up. “It’s not what you think.”

“And what do I think, Deanie? What did I just walk into?”

“I just needed to relieve some stress.”

“Oh, and do you always relieve your stress thinking of me?” (Y/N) mewled as she knelt down, her breath hot on his skin as she whispered in his ear. He stiffened up at her closeness, trying his best not to touch her. “See what I think, Deanie, is that what Sam’s been telling me is the truth. That you like me and that you care about me. And since daddy never taught you how to express yourself correctly, you just let everything out when you’re angry.”

Those words ignited a fire in Dean. He no longer cared about his lack of clothing or the situation (Y/N) had caught him in. All he wanted was to regain control. “You think you’re funny, huh?” he growled as he flipped her onto the ground and towered over her. “You think that just because you caught me like this, you know everything now?”

“I know enough,” she smirked up at him as she fought against his grip. “Matter of fact, I can feel it against my leg right now.”

“And you think it’s for you? You think you’re the only (Y/N) out there?”

“I’m the only one you know,” she teased. “And I’m the one whose panties you were sniffing.”

“It’s just a matter of convenience, (Y/N),” he shrugged. “You’re here. That’s that.”

“Are you sure, Dean? Because I’ve never seen you hoard the underwear of any of your past playdates. So, why mine? And why were you jacking off with my name rolling off your tongue?” (Y/N) propped her torso up by her elbows, pressing the tip of her nose to his, testing the waters before diving in. “And what if I told you I felt the same way, Deanie? What if I said that I’ve thought of you with my own hand down my pants? That I’ve edged myself for hours thinking of what you could do to me. And it’s not a matter of convenience for me, Dean. It’s the real deal.”

Dean couldn’t believe what the woman under him was saying. He’d gone so long thinking his feelings were one-sided that Sam only told him the things he wanted to hear. To him, (Y/N) was too smart and too beautiful ever to want to be with him. He wasn’t what she deserved, but now he knew he was what she wanted.

“Tell me you’re messing with me,” he grumbled. “Tell me this is just one big joke.”

“Why do you want me to lie to you, Dean? Is it so hard to believe that someone can feel something for you? That I love you?”

“You don’t mean that,” he continued. “How would you know what you feel is real? It’s not like you have a lot of options on the road.”

“Because I’ve felt like this from the moment I met you, Dean,” she confessed. Her heart had begun hammering inside her chest, begging for a moment of rest. But that was the last thing she wanted. It was the last thing she needed. “Why don’t you want to believe that I could feel this way about you?”

“Because you deserve better, (Y/N),” he muttered softly, almost like he didn’t want her to hear it. “I’m not better.”

(Y/N) knew words were not enough to calm the doubts that drowned his mind, but she knew how she could show it. With a smile on her face, she pulled one of Dean’s hands with her own as she unzipped her pants with her other. She moved their interlocked hands to the wetness that had pooled in her core, pressing his calloused fingers on the aching bundle of nerves that had been begging for attention. “I know what I deserve,” she hissed. “And I know what I want, Dean. I want you.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he argued. But his fingers were telling another story. As if by instinct, his digits had started circling her clit, rubbing circles and shapes over the bud. “I’m damaged goods, (Y/N). I’m no good.”

“And I’m not better,” she added. “We all have a past, Dean. It can’t stop us from living in the present.”

“Is that what you’re doing, then?” Dean chuckled. “Living in the present?”

“We both are, Deanie,” (Y/N) grinned mischievously, knowing she had won him over. “As soon as you give in, baby.”

“You win, then,” he smiled. “For now.”

Dean pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s, savoring their softness and their warmth. It was everything he had imagined and more. They moved perfectly in sync, fitting into each other’s empty spaces like they had been crafted for each other. And maybe they were. Maybe they were part of some divine plan and had no idea. But at that moment, it didn’t matter. It was the fact that they were together that made everything just right.

“So, is this all because of me?” Dean taunted as he teased her folds. “This how you always are?”

“Yeah,” she sighed in pleasure. “I can’t help it when I’m with you.”

“Wish I had known earlier,” he grinned deviously. “I would have been taking care of you, (Y/N).”

“I think we’ve been taking care of ourselves quite well,” (Y/N) teased. “I mean, from what I saw today, you got your system down.”

“Oh, is that so? That mean you got your system too?”

“Well, I have not heard any complaints yet,” she chuckled. “I kind of know my body quite well.”

“Show me then.”

“What?”

“Did I stutter?” Dean smiled. “Get up on the bed and show me how you touch yourself thinking of me, baby.”

Dean slipped an arm under her legs and another on her back and carried her to the bed, where he laid her body softly on the mattress. He kissed his way down her body as he rid her of her clothes, revealing the valley of her skin and marking his path with his mouth.

“Show me,” he said as he kissed down her legs. “Show me what you do.”

“You gotta get off me first,” she chuckled. “Or are you gonna do the work for me?”

“As tempting as that sounds, baby, we gotta even the fields here. And we don’t have much time.”

With a slight chuckle, (Y/N) situated herself comfortably on the bed, propping her back up with a few pillows. Just enough so she could see Dean’s form. He had dragged a chair and rested it just at the foot of the bed, his eyes firmly trained on the woman’s body.

Soon enough, (Y/N)’s hands set off to work instinctively. They roamed her body sensuously, squeezing and kneading her most sensitive spots. As they worked their way through her skin, one rested upon her breast as the other made its way between her legs. She spread her limbs wide, giving Dean the show of a lifetime as her digits spread her folds and gathered her wetness before landing on her aching clit.

She knew it was her hands that were touching her, but her mind quickly tricked her into thinking it was Dean’s calloused fingers running across her body. In her head, it was him that was toying with her clit, it was him that was pinching her hardened nipples, it was him that was bringing her closer and closer to her awaited orgasm.

But it was clear that it wasn’t. Where he sat, Dean had taken his hard cock back into his hand, pumping at the same rate (Y/N) was touching herself. He slid his hand up and down his length, using his thumb to circle the head as precum coated him. In his head, it was her hand wrapped around him, squeezing softly as he tried to ride out his climax as long as he could.

“Fuck yourself, baby,” Dean groaned out. “I’m getting close here.”

“I always knew you were always too fast to the finish line,” she teased, concealing a moan that burst through. “Might just call you two-minute Dean.”

“You really know how to shatter the fantasy, (Y/N),” he sighed. “Just do it, baby.”

“Alright, but stop talking, Dean. You’re wrecking my fantasy here.”

After Dean finally quieted, stifling a moan that was bubbling, (Y/N) continued with her work. The hand that had been touching her chest slithered down her body, sinking into her core as her other hand continued her attack on her clit.

Moans and pants left her as she pistoned into her cunt, her digits curling at the end to bring her that much closer to her climax. She could see how hard it was for the man before her to keep up with her speed. His skin had started to redden and beads of sweat had formed across his body. His chest heaved quickly, and his movements stuttered as he held onto whatever resolution he had left.

“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned. “I’m so close, baby.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he stammered. “Keep going. Cum for me, baby.”

(Y/N)’s picked up speed as she felt the tight coil in the pit of her stomach threatening to snap. She had done that dance many times before, searching, pushing, beckoning her orgasm to the brink. But it was the first time the Dean that was before her was real, close enough she could touch him. Close enough he could touch her.

It was that very thought that had her yelling out his name as her finish washed over her body, drenching her hands in her essence. Close behind, Dean burst across his stomach with her name dripping from his tongue, his eyes firmly trained on hers.

Dean took her into another rough kiss as they came down from their respective orgasms, her lips so irresistible he didn’t care how out of breath he was. “God, you’re perfect,” he panted. “So fucking perfect, baby.”

“Was that everything you had dreamed of?” (Y/N) teased with a grin. “Was that what was running through your head when I caught you?”

“Something like that,” he chuckled as he caressed her cheek. “It was more of a contact sport, if you get what I’m saying.”

“Well, we still got some time to kill before nightfall,” she offered. “And I’ve got enough for a round two.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.”

As Dean kissed his way down (Y/N)’s neck, a knock on the door startled them apart, sending them scrambling for their clothes.

“Guys?” Sam called from the other side of the door. “Is everything okay with you two? We really need to get ready for tonight.”

“Fucking Sammy,” Dean grumbled quietly, his eyes rolling as he slipped his t-shirt on. “We were just getting done talking.”

“No fighting?”

“We were very civil, Sam,” (Y/N) called out, trying her best to swallow the laughter that was bubbling in her throat. The pair had gotten dressed in record time, fixing the bed and brushing their hair. She was slipping on her boots when she whispered to Dean, “We are definitely getting a raincheck on that round two, Dean.”

“Oh, you betcha, baby,” he grinned. “Don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to be caught in the act.”

“Just be grateful it was me and not Sam,” she smiled before kissing him once more. “Now, let’s go kill us some vampires.”

My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts or buy me a coffee to support me and my love of writing If you’d like to be tagged in every Kinktober work, any fandom or story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

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actual-changeling · 5 months

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congratulations to @nightgoodomens for making me write the first ficlet of the year! this is so schmoopy and soft it almost makes me want to turn it super angsty instead—but i didn't, so enjoy the happiness while it lasts. inspired by this post.

you can also find it on ao3!

"Amazing how they came up with this all on their own, isn't it?"

Crowley leans back and stretches his neck as far as it will go, losing himself not in the noise but the spaces between sparks, the stars no one can see but are there living and shining nevertheless.

They find themselves on a different rooftop every year, always close enough to see it all but far enough away to create their own bubble of shared joy. His coat is hanging open, the cold, smoke-saturated air rushing past him, and when he closes his eyes just for a second, he can pretend the fireworks exploding above him are galaxies being born; his creations, still right where he put them after all this time.

Next to him, Aziraphale hums quietly, knowing all too well that Crowley is not expecting a response—nor would he hear it if he were to give him one. Instead, he keeps his gaze on his face, tracing the lines of his profile as he carefully pulls off his gloves, finger by finger, before stuffing them into his pocket. He remembers, oh, he remembers, the innocent love he saw flowing through him back then, before time, before earth, before Mother became God became the Almighty.

Before all they loved was lost, one way or another. Then again, while defying all possible odds, they managed to find it once more, not just in each other but in humanity.

Another explosion showers them with sparks that will never reach their skin, and a bright shout of joy follows right after, Crowley's eyes impossibly wide.

"Beautiful," he whispers, and Aziraphale cannot stop himself from tentatively pressing their palms together.

Absently yet with deeply ingrained care, Crowley intertwines their hands, pulling him closer to point at a spot in the sky, and there is smoke on his lips and warmth in their bodies—the same heat, given freely, shared.

"If you go that way, do you know where you'll land?"

Shuffling towards him until he can rest his chin on Crowley's shoulder, he carefully lifts their joined hands to brush a kiss over his knuckles, still watching him, carving out a spot for his fire-lit face in his memory.

"Alpha Centauri," he replies softly, leaving another, almost imperceptible kiss on his cheek.

"Alpha Centauri," Crowley confirms, leaning their heads together, and for a while, the world is everything he ever wanted it to be.

#alex writes good omens #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #happy new year #to more writing and ineffable idiots #fluff. too much fluff. makes my skin itch #tiny tiny bit of angst because otherwise i would have exploded on the spot

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jen-with-a-pen · 3 months

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❀ 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆 – 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ❀

❀ SUMMARY ❀ Ooey-gooey, fluffy snapshots looking into the lives of one Bucky Barnes and Honeysuckle, who have more chemistry than the experiments in Bruce Banner'e lab. Everyone else knows it... except them. It's not without a little help– from Sam 'Certified Wingman' Wilson– do Bucky and Honey begin to realize and figure out their feelings for one another.

❀ PAIRINGS ❀ Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

❀ WARNINGS ❀ Tooth-rotting fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, idiots in love, everyone knows they like each other except them, Avengers live in the Tower, Sam Wilson is a good wingman, touching, mutual pining, domestic avengers, maybe like a tad angst but not much, softness, mild to moderate language (includes cursing), lots of feel-good feelings, no use of y/n, no description of y/n besides maybe outfits but it's still vague

Read this fic on AO3!

header + warning banner by me ❤ dividers by @saradika-graphics

This series is nonlinear and each part can be read separately!

Spam liking will result in an automatic block!

❀ I – The "Not-Date" Date

❀ II – Another Time

❀ III – Sunset Spot

❀ IV – Think Pink

❀ V ❀ VI ❀ VII

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 1 month

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character A and character B are enemies who are in fact idiots in love (but they’re such idiots they don’t know the feelings are mutual). one of them is drunk, so the other has to be sober in order to look after them. suddenly the drunk one prompts their enemy to play two truths and a lie with them. it’s fine, it’s just a silly game.

until one of the 3 choices provided is an outright love confession.

and of course, that damn confession isn’t the lie.

read a fic with this prompt here

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hitlikehammers · 4 months

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safe under you

rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar husbands, writing vows, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day nineteen: Love is the comfort of quiet moments (@tboygareth)

the rockstar husbands are back on their soft-sleepy-romantic bullshit idk ♥️ maybe I'll get around to writing the ACTUAL VOWS next time

“You’re so quiet.”

Which meant Eddie should have heard his husband approaching but: as it stands he really, really didn’t, and he jumps hard when Steve whispers from behind his shoulder over the back of the couch.

Steve laughs at the glare Eddie shoots him—a half-hearted one at best but there—as he reaches to start rubbing at the crook of his neck, up and down on either side and the glaring goes away instantly because: Steve Harrington?

Has magical hands.

“Whatcha doing?” he murmurs close to Eddie’s ear and Eddie hums a little as he gathers himself from going immediately-boneless under Steve’s touch, the kneading of his palm against Eddie’s strained muscles because he’s been down here…not too long, he doesn’t think. They’d gone to bed together at normal time, and he’d fallen asleep, too; he’d just been restless when he woke up, and knew it was the kind of thing he wouldn’t get more rest out of unless he did something about it, so he’d kissed Steve’s head and rolled out of bed, regretful for it but hopeful, too, that if he gave in to the nagging at the back of his head, he’d quiet it enough to be able to slip back in next to his beloved, and lean against the mattress just so, so that Steve’s arms could curl around him as they always did: soft and sweet and waiting to hold him.

Eddie just hasn’t…managed to get there, yet.

“Writing,” Eddie sighs, and then whines a little as Steve’s hands leave their place on his shoulders, and he turns to look because where’s Steve going, Steve shouldn’t go anywhere, Steve should stay right—

Here.

And look at that: Steve’s plopping himself down on the sofa next to Eddie, a little too far but then he’s scooting further, and Eddie opens his mouth to protest but then Steve’s dropping down, draping his body over Eddie’s lap and laying against him, looking up at him with still-half-sleepy eyes and just…

He’s just so fucking beautiful, y’know?

“You’re never quiet when you’re writing,” Steve says, head tilted up, eyes closed as he leans back against the armrest where Eddie’s got his notebook, his face so soft. His mouth so soft—

“Campaign, you mumble to yourself,” Steve continues on, his voice syrupy, still only half-committed to waking; “lyrics, you hum if you don’t have a guitar,” and then he reaches down toward Eddie’s knee and taps rhythmic there:

“And you drum your fingers,” and Steve smiles as his fingers dance for a few languid moments before he eases his lashes open and meets Eddie’s gaze, because Eddie’s gaze has been on his since he settled in his lap.

Because: duh.

“Looks like it’s hard, too,” Steve sucks his lower lip between his teeth, face still soft but mouth quirked just a little downward, still a little dream-soaked and Eddie love that part, but: never the downturn of that mouth.

“Hmm?” Eddie rumbles low so Steve’ll maybe feel it a little where he’s pressed; the little hazy giggle Steve lets out as he nuzzles into Eddie’s middle just that tiny bit: he felt.

Eddie likes to think he’s never been so in love, but he doesn’t…he doesn’t believe he’s ever not loved Steve with all of his everything.

He’s just wholly convinced that his everything grows with ever moment beside this man, every heartbeat lived together: it stretches him wider, broader every day for the singular purpose of holding the all of his love ever-bigger.

“Whatever you’re working on,” Steve murmurs, just short of sleep-slurred; “you’ve got this,” and he reaches, bats a little around Eddie’s face before he lands between his eyebrows and smooths the skin there which, okay, fine, had been all wrinkled-up.

“Means you’re concentrating too hard,” Steve comments sagely, patting Eddie’s cheek a little blind as he settles wholly back in Eddie’s lap.

“This happens to be very important,” Eddie counters with a tiny flick to Steve’s ear, which is met with a little squeak that warms his insides so delicate, so thorough and full.

“Doubtful,” Steve manages to scoff, like he’s tipping closer to wakefulness but not there yet; “not important enough to make you,” and Steve’s the one flicking now, light at Eddie’s forearm in emphasis:

“Quiet and frowny.”

He’s so…he’s fucking edible he’s so adorable, that’s what he is—Jesus.

“Not frowny,” Eddie lets a little at Steve’s hair, all tousled from the bed; “invested.”

Steve purses his lips and tries—fails, but tries—to peek at the notebook on level with his temple.

“What’s got you so invested, then?” he finally gives up trying to turn and read where Eddie’s hasn’t even bothered trying to hide, not least because there is nothing there, and just asks. And Eddie could dodge it. Steve would respect it if he did.

But he…he doesn’t. Generally speaking he doesn’t hide anything from Steve. Big or small. Their life is a shared thing from top to bottom and Eddie loves that about them so fucking fierce, so. He just sighs and admit it.

“My vows.”

Because that’s what’s been keeping him up, that’s what drove him out of the soft joy of their bed, that’s what amounted to scribbles and cross-outs alone on the page in front of him and it should be this hard, Eddie’s a decent enough lyricist, not to mention most of his songs all this time are for, or inspired by, or just about, generally, all-encompassingly: Steve. It’s always Steve.

Which makes it that much more unbearable that he can’t seem to fucking write his goddamn vows.

Then, though, just then; the most unexpected thing happens. Or starts.

Steve starts shaking against him and there a half-second he’s worried—does it hurt his sweetheart, that he can’t get the words down, does it make him sad, is he cryi—

No.

No: it only takes half-a-second for the anxiety to fade and the sound to register alongside the trembling: Beautiful. Radiant. Still wholly unexpected.

Steve’s laughing.

“That’s silly,” Steve finally tells him, looking up at him with genuine north in his eyes and yes, he’s still a little sleepy-drunk, but the feeling is wholly present and…

Eddie isn’t sure what to do with it—wants to just wrap himself inside it and savor but: his vows…laughable?

Silly?

“What?”

“You’ve already made your vows,” Steve grins up at him, all brightness; “like, three times,” and, okay.

Okay, that’s not exactly wrong, though he could probably try to argue that it was more three proposals’ worth of vows, and are those actually vows, if it’s just a proposal—

“Proposals fucking count,” Steve waves his wrist definitively and…Eddie isn’t sure if he said any of that out loud?

Then: probably wouldn’t make a difference either way. They know each other.

“The first one was legitimately with the twisty-tie from a loaf of Home Pride,” Eddie points out because: because that…that’s probably not as important—

“Mmhmm,” Steve hums, and lifts his left hand: there’s a simple ring on his left hand, pricey for their budget when they’d gathered their family and committed to always in front of them under a temperate Indiana summer’s sky, bonfire and barbecue lively in the background: but that ring wasn’t smooth; it had a long-worn-bare stick of metal wrapped around it and soldered, one that used to be covered in bright paper to stick out against a plastic bread bag:

“I remember well,” and Steve sounds so soft, so blissfully taken in by the memory of that first time Eddie had proposed and, fuck.

Fuck, the butterflies never go away, do they? That effervescent joy stays fresh and vivacious forever.

Thank fuck; he wants no less of this; for them. The love they have deserves no less.

“Still want to melt down the Ring Pop,” Steve says as he plays with his ring; “make it match,” and that’d been the second time: Steve had bought Eddie a ring at a ren faire, and Eddie’d been beside himself to reciprocate, immediately, because Steve deserved no less, and that was how the bum-end of a long-licked Ring Pop came to live eternally on Steve’s keys.

To be eyed for melting into a full-hoop shape for years, now, but Eddie kinda thinks it’s loved and treasured plenty, just as it already is.

“I love you so fucking much,” Steve tells him, apropos of nothing, and that’s…that’s kind of exactly how they work, yeah. They just love.

So fucking much.

Eddie’s pulse kinda skips with it, bounces like pigtails hopscotching along, all unbridled glee. He draws Steve hand to his lips, kisses his knuckles.

“Aren’t you,” Eddie swallows as he lifts his blank notebook and shakes it around a little: “aren’t you stressing over them?”

Because it doesn’t sound like he is, and that’s…sure, they’ve done this before, if not with a license in hand like they will this time. But Steve’s always been more prone to worry over stuff like this. So while Eddie doesn’t want the man he loves to be anxious, he is…kinda wondering, is all.

“Not writing any,” Steve shrugs and lets the motion turn him a little against Eddie’s lap, to look up more straight-on.

“You know I’m not great with words,” Steve tells him simply; “like, planning them out, I’ll fuck it up in the moment and then I’ll just be more flustered.”

And, yeah: okay. That’s a fair point.

Then there’s a hand slipping up his jaw, and crawling his cheek, and turning him down to look at Steve closer:

“Figured I can just look at you, and I’ll,” Steve’s pupils get bigger as he exhales, as he takes in Eddie’s face and beams at him, strokes his cheekbone with his thumb.

“The most important things are always right there,” Steve breathes warm: “so I’ll just say what’s already waiting.”

And shit. The man says he’s bad at words.

“You’re the light of life, Steve Harrington,” Eddie whispers, contorting himself to lean and Steve sees, arches up to press their lips as Eddie mouths against him: “the song in my soul,” and fuck: he means it so many times over he could never count it, could never pin a number to it. It’s too vast.

“See, look at you,” Steve taps his cheek playfully, but so soaked up with love; “you’ve already got all your words, so,” and then he lets his hand slide off Eddie’ face, and he sits up just to grab at Eddie’s legs, swing them up onto the couch and settles himself between them, tugging Eddie from the calves further down until he’s propping himself up by his palms.

“C’mon,” Steve coaxes, and uses his back to ease Eddie down and: oh. Oh, he wants them laid out on the cushions.

And well: Eddie could, would, will only ever oblige, if the question is do you want to lay down with your husband thrice-almost-four-times-over?

Because again: duh. If they were really in the market for silly ideas.

Steve sighs so happily, so airy and bright even as Eddie reaches to flick the light off, and wraps his arms to rest around Steve, sure and close where he holds him to his chest, folds him in where he already nuzzles deeper and:

It’s how safe my heart feels under the weight of your head.

Well, fuck him.

Maybe he does know his vows already.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

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awearywritersworld · 4 months

Note

mona mona!!! in my head, modern bf sukuna likes to bake for reader !! in your au, do you think sukuna ever attempts to cook or bake something for reader that he used to enjoy eating? MWAH much love to you <3

aali aali!!! i'm in tears thinking about this evil man in an apron.... better yet, let's say he uses reader's and it's pink and has little strawberries on it or somethin cute. wah!!!!! he's so adorable.

yessssss tho!! he appreciates it when reader cooks for him and so he'd wanna return the favor. this idea is so sweet!! sending u all the love<333333

you find him in the kitchen one evening, staring at the stove looking exceptionally confused.

"what are you doing?"

"nothing."

"clearly," you tease. "what is it you're trying to do."

"where are you supposed to light the fire?"

"...fire?"

"yes, fire." he says it as if you're the foolish one in the situation. "you know, that thing you use to cook."

"you're going to cook?" you question, rather amused.

he sighs, a dramatic show of irritation. "is that so hard to believe? are you going to help me or not?"

the word help sounds rather strained coming from his lips and he seems to be in an exceptionally grumpy mood, so you suppress a giggle and make your way across the kitchen.

"that's sweet of you," you hum, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

you don't miss the way the small show of affection makes his shoulders relax. reaching out, you twist one of the stove knobs to the right and the burner turns red. "there's no fire. it's just electric."

his brows furrow as he looks between you and the stove. "oh."

it takes him a while to adjust to the electric stove, so he burns things pretty frequently at first. eventually he catches on though and you're quite impressed with his culinary skills.

sometimes you can't help but stare as he prepares food, because he handles the cooking chopsticks so adeptly. there's just something about the way it makes his knuckles and the tendons on his hands more pronounced that you struggle to tear your eyes away from.

#m!answers #m!writes #masq #are those called tendons??? idk. whatever those things are on ur hand when u flex ur fingers #aali thank u for putting these images in my brain #i feel like he'd concentrate so hard on cooking like his brows would crease together and he'd be pulling his bottom lip between his teeth #our very own gordon ramsey #he'd chuckle at the idiot sandwich meme too pls #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jjk imagines

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dilfmansion · 4 months

Text

The first time it happened, it wasn’t intentional.

Nobara and Yuji hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but exhaustion from the ruined Exchange Event had caught up to them before they could return to their rooms. Yuji had been the first to go, half-slumped over on Megumi’s legs. Nobara had managed to stay in her own chair at least, arms crossed over her chest and head bent at an awkward angle.

Megumi followed embarrassingly soon after. He was still recovering from his run-in with the cursed spirit in the forest, and healing was slow. He had shifted down the bed carefully, not wanting to jostle Yuji too much, curling in on his side and listening to the rhythm of the other two breathing.

Yuji’s snoring didn’t seem as annoying as it did when he was sleeping in the next room.

The second time it happened, it was by necessity.

Nobara had returned from a solo mission bloody and bruised and full of self-inflicted puncture wounds, hands shaky and uniform stained with blood. Shoko was off-duty that night.

She had come to them instead. Not like she really had a choice— Megumi and Yuji had been waiting for her to get back since she left, posted dutifully in the main common room. When Nobara finally did come back well after midnight, they practically jumped to help her.

Yuji gave her one of his own t-shirts to change into— it was massive on her, but the fabric was soft and it smelled like him and that was more than enough convincing for her to slip it on while the two boys turned away.

Megumi retrieved a first aid kit from his closet; wounds were cleaned and bandaged, two particularly deep lacerations held together with butterfly tape and covered for Shoko to heal in the morning. Yuji only yelped a few times under the vice grip that Nobara had on his hand.

She hardly spoke. The only thing they could get out of her was short responses to easy questions, confirmations or denials of pain as Megumi worked. Eventually, they got her into bed– not her own, Yuji’s, but that didn’t matter. She was fed and in markedly less pain than before. That was when she finally opened up. Two people had died. Civilians. Not deaths Nobara could have predicted or prevented, but Yuji and Megumi were more than aware of the toll that still took.

When Nobara finally fell asleep it was wedged between the two of them, wrapped in Yuji’s arms with Megumi at her back. One of her hands had curled into Yuji’s sweatshirt. He didn’t entertain the thought of moving it. Megumi had given him a quick glance over Nobara’s shoulder— silent deliberation that was over before it began. All three slept there that night.

That was far from the last time.

It became a regular occurance, the three of them falling asleep in a clumsy tangle of limbs. It helped, somehow; gave them space to let down their guard and truly rest amid the chaos.

They would take comfort where they could get it.

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eternalbuckley · 11 months

Text

Don’t push me away. — evan buckley

SUMMARY: You got a visit from your old friend, Kelly Severide that you didn’t know about. He was an old friend from back then when you still lived and worked in Chicago. Little did you know that this visit might cause a jealous Buck.

word count: 4,179

genre: angst with a happy ending | gn!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings: angst, jealous buck, reader works as a nurse for kids (mentioned once or twice i think), severide and reader are friends but hooked up once (will be mentioned a few times), insecure buck (my poor baby), arguing, reader and buck raising their voices, use of pet name (babe), english is not my first language, hardly proofread — let me know if i forgot something!

a/n: i had to combine two of my favorite comfort shows and jealous buck. it was a NEED, might do it again in the future if i have enough ideas! but don’t worry: you can still read this story if you haven’t watched Chicago Fire! The story from there is not important for my story here, I‘m just using one of the characters! :)

a/n 2: And definitely bare with me for the length of this. It’s the longes fanfic I’ve ever written in my life. I actually had more ideas but didn’t know how to write them out. I hope you like it though! I am a true sucker for angst, I hope you get into your feeling with that story because I definitely did :‘) HAPPY READING!!

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know! reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and welcomed!

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(not my gif, credits to the owner!)

Buck wasn’t supposed to react this way. He didn’t want to but he was scared because he didn’t want to lose you, again. He almost lost you months ago because of his insecurities that resulted into pushing you away. Buck didn’t want to end anything that he had with you like that but it happened again. And everything just because one of your old friends surprised you with a visit. Buck knew who your friend was. Kelly Severide.

You used to know him from work when you still lived in Chicago and you two grew close over time. One time it ended up in a hookup but it was after a heavy breakup from your former partner and Kelly was freshly out of a relationship as well. You were there for each other and it just happened but you didn’t decide to go further into that and stay with a close friendship. No weird or uncomfortable feelings. Kelly even helped you to pack your things after you decided to move away from Chicago to Los Angeles.

You sure did love Chicago even with its own thing that happened here and there. You loved the friendships you formed at work and in private. You even grew close over time with the other firefighters from Kelly’s work. But it was time for something new and Los Angeles was your decision. After your move, you needed some time to settle in. After all, you knew no one in this big city and it got you thinking of moving there and leaving everything behind you was the right decision.

But after you met Hen and Chimney you knew it was the best decision you ever did. You met them both at a bar giving out some drinks. They got you one as well and you ended up talking the whole time about each lives. You found out that both of them were firefighters at the 188 and you were looking for a job as a nurse. You knew you wanted to keep working as one since you liked it in Chicago. Especially if you were able to look after the kids there. Sure, it wasn’t always easy times but you wanted to help people and that was a good place to do it.

The three of you exchanged numbers and they invited you to come over to the 118 whenever you want to come over. After a few days you decided to visit them there and you got to know everybody else. Including Evan Buckley. Your now-boyfriend. You grew close with everyone and they welcomed you with much love. Especially your favourite person on earth, also known as your boyfriend. You started as friends and over the time you started hanging out together. Only the two of you and one day you asked him out on a date. With the help of Hen and Chimney actually.

They both noticed the admiring, stolen glances and heart eyes you and Buck gave each other when the other one wasn’t looking and they knew they had to do something. Buck finally needed to be happy again, after everything that happened with Taylor. From time-to-time Hen and Chimney started teasing you or Buck whenever you were alone with them. Or they teased both of you when you were in the same room. The blushed faces of you and Buck were the win of it for them and they knew they were on the right track.

You asked him out once you were alone. Well technically alone because you were sitting outside with him while the rest including Athena and her family were inside of her house getting ready the dinner. Before that Chimney and Hen were sitting with the both of you. Both of them shot you many glances towards Buck for you to finally ask him out because they knew he wouldn’t do it. He always told them 'They don’t like me in that way. They would never.' He was an idiot who was in love. That‘s why you had to make the first move. After gaining enough courage you gave them a glance to leave and they did.

You and Buck were talking about different stuff and after a comforting time of silence, you looked at him and asked him out. You were afraid he wasn’t ready to date again, after Taylor. But you had to shoot your shot, you didn’t want to gulp down your feelings anymore. You felt the most comfortable around Buck and he made you happy. He was your safe place. And you were his. He was blushing and told you he was waiting for this moment.

And in that very moment, you realized that it was the best decision to move to Los Angeles and make a fresh start. Because that‘s where you found your second family and the love of your life. Since then and many dates with Buck it has been two years. You recently moved in with Buck after he asked you to move in and you loved every second you were able to spend with each other. It has been over a year now since you asked him out.

It was a big surprise for you to see Kelly at your doorstep and smiling at you after you opened the door. You didn’t expect him there and especially not at this time. It was your day off with Buck and you wanted to spend it with him inside and some movies. So Buck wasn’t entirely fond of the sudden visit but he was happy for you. Kelly greeted him and apologized for interrupting any plans you might have had. You were happy to see your friend after some time again. You haven’t seen each other in a few months, perhaps it almost had been a year since you visited him and your other friends in Chicago. You missed them but everything that mattered was that you were happy. Here in Los Angeles, with Buck.

“I wanted to see where you live, Y/N/N. You’ve been telling us so much about this city, now it’s your turn to show me everything.” Kelly teased after you asked him what he was doing here. He still hugged you and you let him.

Your eyes went to Bucks who had a smile on his lips. He knew how much Kelly meant to you. The three of you spend the whole afternoon together. After a shower and getting ready, you went out with your friend and boyfriend. But the energy from Buck slightly shifted but you didn’t know why. And you didn’t ask him, you would have done it later. But you didn’t. You didn’t want to accuse Buck of anything and let it stay like that. Little did you know that you would actually regret this later.

Two days later you and Kelly visited Buck at the station. A place where Buck didn’t want to see him if he was being honest. He was already intrigued that he was at your shared home but seeing him at his workplace, knowing he was a firefighter too was something that made him feel not very good. But Buck wanted to be the good boyfriend he is and gulped down his feelings, he knew how happy you were having Kelly around but he was jealous about how happy he actually made you.

Bobby sensed how uncomfortable Buck looked and decided to have a talk with him in private. Buck told him everything and that he didn’t know what to do. He wanted to make you happy and if that meant having Kelly around, he‘d have to accept it. He wasn’t jealous of your friendship with him but about your past and it just made him more insecure about perhaps losing you. You were the light of his life. You made him the happiest person on earth and he didn’t want to lose that.

At the same evening, you sat together with Buck and ate dinner together. You just brought Kelly to the airport and said your goodbyes. Of course, you were sad but now you had more time again to spend with your boyfriend.

"Babe?" Buck mumbled while he poked in his food and looked up at you.

You didn’t look up to him because you were too focused on eating but after he mentioned your name again you immediately looked up.

"Did you hear me?" He asked, slightly upset but he didn’t show it.

You shook your head. "I‘m sorry, no. Is everything okay?" You asked him, not sensing what would happen in the next few minutes.

The look on his face was serious and something was hiding behind his eyes. You knew that. "Not really."

You gulped down the food and worry entered your body. "Tell me what‘s wrong, babe," You tried to take his hand but he put his away. You put your eyebrows together, "Buck, what’s wrong?"

You started imagining all the different potentials that he could say at that moment. Many good ones but a lot of bad ones. What if he decided it wouldn’t work out between you two? What if he regrets it to let you move in with him? What if…

"We need to talk."

Yep, you were sure he would break up with you. You only nodded your head, slowly. You weren’t sure what you should say, so you let him talk.

"A-about Kelly."

You were confused. "What? Why? Did he do something?"

"Not exactly I-" He stuttered.

"Then what‘s the problem?" You interrupted him. You knew you should have let him finish whatever he wanted to say but you got into this defensive mood.

He sighed, not entirely knowing how to continue this. And seeing the stern look on your face made him regret that he even started to talk about it. Buck got up and took the plates to put them in the sink, you followed him.

You put one of your hands on his arm and turned his body to you. "Tell me what‘s on your mind, Buck."

He shook his head. "It‘s nothing. Just forget."

"You know I won’t. Tell me. Don’t push me away." You looked up to him, hoping he would give in and tell you what was going on in his mind.

"I don’t really like him, okay?!" He told you and you took a step back. Not knowing what to say.

"Why?”

He sighed and held the bridge of his nose. "I- I don’t like him. He‘s.." He stopped and looked at you. "He‘s an asshole."

"And you think that for what exact reason, Buck?" You laughed in disbelief and turned around. You went back to the table to clean it.

He didn’t like that you continued to call him ‘Buck’. Sure, it was his name but you barely used this name for him. Mostly you always used pet names for him unless you were talking about him with someone else obviously. But that you were using his name showed the importance of the current topic.

"I don’t like how he slept with so many peo-"

"Just like you did, Buck." You interrupted him. You couldn’t believe he was acting this way, especially right now. He could’ve said something earlier. Maybe before Kelly left Los Angeles. But that he was using this was the irony in itself.

Buck stopped talking and looked at the back of your head. He regrets that he even mentioned Kelly. He sighed and needed to find a way how to stop this conversation.

"If you‘re really upset about this then just forget it, Buck. It‘s in the past and I don’t care." You didn’t want to argue but you both were too upset at that moment. He didn’t say anything and just looked at you after you finally turned around again.

You sighed and continued talking, "I don’t blame you for having sex with so many people before we got into this relationship, so why is that such a problem for you?" You slightly raised your voice.

"Because of you, Y/N! Because he slept with you! That’s my problem, okay?! You and he had sex together," He admitted. His voice matched your tone now.

You looked at him, lips pressed into a thin line. "How do you-" You were confused. You didn’t tell him that but that’s when it all sense for you.

Buck obviously found it out because of Kelly himself. There was no other way because only he knew about it. You remembered how Buck started acting distant after he and Kelly sat alone together while you were in the shower. It was the same day Kelly surprised you with his visit. After you came back from your shower Buck's energy towards you and especially Kelly shifted. Now it all made sense.

"It doesn’t matter. That‘s in the past, o-okay? It never meant a thing." You tried to assure him. After all, it was the truth.

"But it does to me. It matters to me because I see how close you are and I have no idea what exactly happened between the both of you. I see how happy he makes you in a way I can never do." His voice got quieter with each word. Tears were slowly building up in his eyes but he quickly blinked them away.

You came closer to him and shook your head. "Yes, he makes me happy," You told him and put your hands on Buck's face, "But not as happy as you make me. Whatever happened between Kelly and me years ago doesn’t mean anything to me or him. He is married to a wonderful woman. And I am happily in a relationship with you. The only one I care about is standing in front of me and that’s you, Buck. I don’t care about anyone that much like I care about you."

Buck sighed, he was insecure. "But it could happen again."

Your face completely fell, just like your hands. "What did you just say?" You stepped away from him. Tears building up in your eyes. You shook your head, hoping he didn’t say that. "I can’t believe you just said that.”

Regret was written on Buck’s face. He gulped and wanted to take back everything he said in the past minutes.

“You think that Kelly is an asshole? How about you take a look in the mirror, Buck? Because the only asshole I see right now is just you." You said.

Buck gulped. He didn’t mean to say these words, it just happened. "I- I didn’t mean that. It just came out. I-"

He came closer to you but you held out your hand. Signing to him to stop his moves and he immediately did. Tears were building up in his eyes even more now. He didn’t want to lose you. But what if it was already too late for that?

"I can’t do this right now." You whispered.

"Please…" He whispered as well but you took your jacket and walked to the door. "Don’t leave."

You faced the door and didn’t dare to turn around. Because you knew that if you did you would break down crying.

"I didn’t mean it, babe. I‘m just-"

You deeply breathed in and had to take a moment. "I‘ll be sleeping at Hen‘s place tonight. We should step away from each other for now. To… To think about what just happened here." You left the apartment and after the door closed behind you, all that was left was Buck crying. He couldn’t sleep that night and the following nights were even more horrible.

After Hen saw you crying at her door, she immediately let you in. Karen and Hen were there for you. They always were whenever you needed someone to talk to. They let you stay at their house for the next few days and didn’t pressure you into talking. That you were staying at Hen’s house resulted in: her sending diggers into Bucks back at work. She knew what he said to you and wasn’t pleased with that. But she didn’t confront him about it, only because you begged her not to do it. Hen didn’t want to cause more harm into this but Buck knew that you probably told her what happened between you and him. He wanted to talk about it with her but whenever Buck tried to approach her, a new call sent them to an incident.

Buck was devastated. His energy wasn’t the same anymore since you left. Neither at work nor certainly not at home. All he could think about was you. Even more than usual. He needed to fix whatever was left between you. Buck didn’t and couldn’t lose you, just because of his jealousy and insecurities. You were everything to him. You were his safe place.

——————

It was late in the evening. Buck was with Christopher and Eddie in the apartment of you and him. Eddie came over with Chris to cheer him up and get him on different thoughts. That’s what Eddie told Buck but there was a completely different reason why he came over. Sure, they were there to cheer Buck up but after all, it was just because of you. It had been a few days since the argument between Buck and you. Not to forget to mention that you haven’t put a foot in your home since then. Only when you knew Buck wasn’t there as well. Thanks to Hen or Eddie texting you at work or when they were in Buck’s near and making sure you didn’t have to see him. You needed the time to think and make your decisions. You knew you’d forgive Buck but you were still anxious about confronting him about it. You knew he’d give you all the time you would need but you didn’t want to let him wait forever.

Buck and Eddie were currently watching Chris in the living room while he played one of his video games on the TV. Usually, you’d sit there with them and either play with Chris together or talk with the two men. Eddie was talking some sense into Buck's mind to fix this with you. He told him that everything would be fine and that you just needed time. Buck just didn’t know how he could fix this. Should he approach you at Hen’s house? Should he approach you at work? Or should he wait it out and hope that magic will fix this between you?

But luckily none of this had to be done because the next thing Buck heard were your keys opening the door. And there you stood. Nervous in the middle of the door. Your eyes met his. His eyes were filled with worry and regret. Yours were filled with sadness but love. You slightly smiled but it was more like your try to not be so nervous. You closed the door behind you and eventually looked at Eddie who was standing next to Buck.

"Hi, Eddie." You greeted him with a smile which he returned.

Eddie drank down the rest of his beer and called Chris so they could go. He already knew that you wanted to talk with Buck tonight, that‘s why he was here. You knew how much Chris meant to Buck, which is why you begged Eddie to be there and calm him down. You weren’t angry at Buck, just disappointed in him and yourself. Eddie agreed into helping you but didn’t tell Buck about it. Overall, you were happy to have such amazing friends.

"Chris and I just wanted to go," Eddie smiled and saw Buck's pleading eyes not to go.

Buck was scared but this didn’t faze Eddie at all. He just patted his shoulder. "You‘ve got this, bud." He whispered to him and called Chris.

You put off your jacket and watched Chris coming over to the three of you. His face instantly lit up after seeing you and he immediately hugged you after he was at your side.

"Hi there," You smiled down at him and hugged him back.

After saying your goodbyes to Eddie and Chris, they left you alone with Buck. A few minutes passed by.

"So..." You both said at the same time and ended up chuckling together. The air in the room was still awkward. Especially because you were still standing in the kitchen but so far away from each other that it might hurt but neither you nor him dared to step closer to each other.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N." He told you.

You nodded your head. "I know, Buck,” you bit down on your lower lip. “I am sorry as well. I shouldn’t just have left without calling you. The past few days have been-“

“Horrible.” You both said at the same time again. You both shared sad smiles with each other.

You looked at Buck with tears in your eyes. “I think we should have a talk.”

Buck's legs were like jelly after you said those words. Saying he was scared was an understatement. He was terrified. You both stepped a few inches closer but there was still a distance between you.

"I‘m not angry at you, okay? I‘m just.. I don’t know. Disappointed," You began, your voice and lips were trembling. "Not just at you. I’m disappointed in myself." You admitted and took a deep breath.

He put his eyebrows together and shook his head. "There‘s no need to. I understand if you‘re disappointed in me but-" He moved his body forward to you.

"I should have told you about my past with Kelly. About what happened back then and that I indeed had sex with him. If I would have told you the truth in the first place, then we wouldn’t have fought."

Buck slowly nodded his head, he didn’t want to interrupt you and let you continue to talk.

"When I tell you that it meant nothing, then it‘s the complete truth, okay? At the time when Kelly and I slept together, he just got out of a serious relationship and I…” You took a small pause.

“I basically had an identity crisis," You chuckled. "He and I had way too many drinks in our bodies and it just happened but it meant nothing. We don’t even talk about it anymore because it’s in the past." You looked at Buck with much love.

Buck realized he was an idiot, maybe a bit too late but hopefully not too late. "I‘m an idiot."

"Yes, you are. A very jealous idiot.” You agreed but smiled at him. “But I understand. I was once a jealous idiot as well because of you."

"What do you mean?" Now it was his turn to be confused.

You looked down, embarrassed of your next words. "I was jealous because of Taylor and you. Back then when we started to get to know each other all you had on your mind was her. And I was utterly jealous of that.” You looked back up to him. He was now closer to you. “Because I wanted to be the one you talk about like that. The one you look at with so much love and the one you‘re happy with. You have no idea how jealous I was when you told me that you both are together. I saw this as a sign to take a step back from you and that was also the reason why we stopped seeing each other so much." You sighed.

"And when you broke up with her, I was so happy. I could have used this for my own good but I didn’t because I knew what you needed was a friend. And then we just happened after we grew closer again."

He smiled at you now. "And now we‘re here. One year later."

You nodded your head. "I admit what you said hurt me a lot-"

"And I will regret this for the rest of my life. I was in the wrong place for reacting the way I did. I admit I was jealous and hurt that I had to find it out because of him and not from you. But I could have approached you differently. I’m so sorry, babe." You had tears in your eyes, one rolled down your cheek which he immediately wiped away. " I‘ll make sure to show you every single day how sorry I am for saying this and accusing you of-"

You hugged him without saying anything and he wrapped his arms around you to keep you close. You needed this. You needed to feel his warmth again. You missed him too much. And he needed it as much as you did.

"Please don’t ever leave me." You whispered.

"I could never," He kissed the side of your head. "And I would never. You‘re the love of my life."

You looked up to him. “And you’re the love of my life, Buck. And I couldn’t imagine a life without anymore.” As a reply, he kissed you with much love and desire he felt for you.

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honnelander · 9 months

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go fish!

so i fell in love with Sanji just like everyone else. i've never seen the one piece anime or read the manga so i'm solely going off of the live action. i had fun writing this and plan to make this a series of some sorts where it's a fem!reader x Sanji moments of awkwardness, fluff, and mutual pining because i love reading that stuff myself. if anyone has any suggestions or requests for this series please leave a comment or send me an ask!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 1.3k

pairing: opla!sanji x reader

summary: reader and Usopp are playing a card game when Sanji finds them. teasing ensues.

prequel part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist

“Care for a refreshment, Madam?” a smooth, deep familiar voice asked to your left, breaking your concentration on the card game in front of you.

“Hm?” you looked up from the cards in your hand and saw the Going Merry’s own chef looking down at you with a crooked, charming smile as he held a chilled glass bottle of water in his hand. “Oh, hey Sanji,” you greeted quickly with your usual smile as you looked back down at your hand. “What’d you say? Go fish Usopp.”

Your opponent across the barrel from you grumbled as he took the top card off the deck sitting between you both.

“I was just asking if the lovely madam sitting here would like a nice, cold refreshment on this particularly hot day?” Sanji asked again with a hint of amusement, his crooked smile deepening as he watched you study your hand once again.

“’Lovely madam’?” Usopp repeated sarcastically, his eyebrows pulling together. “What about offering her super buff, brave, and heroic opponent an ice-cold beverage instead?”

“Nope,” Sanji corrected, popping the 'p'. “Ladies first Usopp. Always.”

Even after knowing Sanji for a couple of months now, his consistent chivalry always managed to make your heart flutter.

You laughed lightly and couldn’t help but smirk as you said with a matter-of-fact, teasing tone, “Just say you wish you were a girl, Usopp. No judgment here.” You paused for a moment before asking, “You got the five of spades?”

“Now even though I would make an extremely attractive, gorgeous woman, I am a man through and through.” A grin broke out on Usopp’s face as he glanced at his hand and triumphantly called out, “Go fish, y/n.”

“Fair enough,” you hummed as you reached for a card. “And yes Sanji, I would love a glass of cold water. Thank you.” You shot a quick look of gratitude the chef’s way as you took a card from the deck.

Sanji placed the two glasses onto your makeshift barrell-table top he was holding in his left hand and started filling up the glasses with water. “Of course. Anything for the missus.”

Missus. Ugh. It made your heart skip a beat to hear him call you that. But you knew he didn’t really mean anything by it. It was just how Sanji spoke, forever the gentleman.

“Oof. If you keep sweet talking like that Sanji, you’re going to even make me blush, just like y/n,” Usopp joked.

Your eyes widened as your eyes snapped to look at your dumbass crewmate and friend sitting across from you. “I- I am not blushing Usopp!” God, if you both were using a real table instead of a barrel right now you would’ve broken his shine with your foot. You really weren’t blushing before but Usopp’s stupid comment definitely made your cheeks heat up now. “It’s the heat,” you hissed.

“’Heat’,” he mocked with air quotes and snorted. “Right.”

“I-” before you could defend yourself, Sanji spoke up.

“Actually,” the blonde chef chimed in with a light laugh as he filled the second glass, “that’s why I came over in the first place. You were looking a little flushed y/n, so I thought you guys could use a cold drink.”

Sanji’s words caused both you and Usopp to look up from your cards simultaneously, making eye contact with each other. A mischievous grin started to form on Usopp’s face as he saw the blush deepen on your face. You quickly looked back to your hand, suddenly finding the eight of clovers card extremely interesting.

Sanji saw you looking flushed? He saw you? From across the deck? From inside the kitchen’s window? He was watching you play cards? The thought of Sanji watching you when you didn’t expect him to made your stomach erupt in butterflies, and it certainly didn’t make your stupid little crush on him go away. Just the opposite. In fact, it just fueled your delusional fantasy even more.

And it certainly didn’t help that the only person who knew about your crush on the head chef just so happened to have a big mouth and loved to tease you about it any chance he got. And that he was sitting right across from you right now, watching all of this unfold right in front of him.

“Oh? So you were watching y/n and I play cards out here?” Usopp innocently asked his blonde crewmate, but you knew better. There wasn’t an ounce of true curiosity in his tone whatsoever.

“Yeah, from the kitchen,” Sanji answered casually as he recapped the glass water bottle.

“Usopp,” you warned.

“And you said that she looked ‘flushed’?” Usopp asked, quirking a brow at the end of his question as he turned his gaze from you to Sanji.

Sanji blinked in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together for a second before looking down at his crewmate. “Yeah...” he said slowly before continuing, “Her cheeks looked a little pink so I figured-”

“Oh?” Usopp asked, his voice becoming louder. “You noticed the color of her cheeks, from that far away?”

“Usopp,” you hissed louder but it fell on deaf ears. Once your friend got on a roll, there was little anyone could do about it. Especially when it came to teasing you about your feelings for Sanji.

“Yeah,” Sanji replied to Usopp’s question with a confused smile. “What are you-”

“GO FISH!” you blurted out loudly, cutting Sanji off and having both men turn their eyes towards you.

“Huh?” Usopp blinked his eyes at you, suddenly remembering the game in front of him. “But I didn’t even ask you anything y/n. And you just drew a card, so it’s your turn to ask me.”

You let out a quiet sigh of relief at the fact that Usopp stopped grilling Sanji with all of those embarrassing questions right in front of you....even though you couldn’t help but perk up at the fact that Sanji in fact had been watching you from the kitchen, and that he was sweet enough to bring you (and Usopp) some water.

“Well, I tried,” you shrugged and lied, “but you just kept yapping so you didn’t hear me. Do you have the Queen of hearts?”

Usopp studied you for a brief moment before looking at his cards, smirking to himself. “You know y/n, it’s funny you asked about the Queen of hearts,” he said as he plucked the requested card from his hand and reached out to give it to you, “since you make heart eyes yourself whenever you look at-”

“GOOD game Usopp!” you practically yelled as you threw your cards down onto the barrel and stood up, hoping your outburst drowned out the name Usopp was about to so stupidly blurt out. You shook his free hand with both of yours as you said, “You totally win my friend.”

“What?” Sanji laughed slightly as he watched you and Usopp shake hands. The poor guy was as confused as ever. “But the game isn’t over.”

You looked Usopp dead in the eye as tightened your grip on his hand. “Oh no, it’s over. He definitely won.”

Yeah, he won alright. He won the game of making your life a living hell and embarrassing you in front of Sanji. He won the gold medal in that game.

“I sure did,” Usopp agreed triumphantly, putting his cards down.

You dropped his hand and took the glass of cold water that Sanji had so generously poured, the cold glass making you feel better already. “Thank you for this Sanji. I think I’ll go enjoy this on my hammock inside.”

You couldn’t bear to look at Sanji, feeling humiliated for no reason with your face on fire, you stepped away from the barrel sipping your water as you made your way across the deck towards the ship’s living quarters.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea y/n!” Usopp called, giddy from the high that could only come from successfully teasing a friend. “Maybe that’ll help calm down your flushed face!”

Before stepping inside, you flipped off a laughing Usopp, completely missing the brief look of disappointment in Sanji’s eyes as he watched you go.

#sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji #sanji vinsmoke #one piece #one piece live action #opla #one piece fanfiction #sanji fanfiction #fluff #opla fanfiction #i absolutely loved writing this and will write more #have this be a series of some sorts #bc who doesn't love idiots in love?#mutual pining #sanji x y/n #one piece x reader #go fish! au

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dumplingsjinson · 2 years

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List of “unrequited love but turns out!! it’s actually requited” prompts

“What, did you think I kissed you all these times because I was doing it for the shits and giggles?” “…Let’s be real, you did have a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public.”

“Oh my God, why are you crying? Does me liking you disgust you that much?” “No, you dumbass, it’s because you like me back but I spent all of this time thinking you’d never like me that way!”

“Look, we can pretend I never confessed if it means you’ll stay—” “What?! No! You can’t just take back your confession! That’s such a coward move and I’ll not allow that! Especially when I feel the same way towards you.”

“I’ll get over you. I promise. These feelings, they’re— they’re only temporary, I swear. I—I’ll get over you. Just please don’t leave me—” “Did you ever think, that maybe, I don’t want you getting over me? What if I don’t want these feelings to be only temporary? That maybe I... Like you, too?”

“I didn’t mean to fall for you.” “And neither did I.” “…Fucking pardon?”

“So according to _____, you’re in love with me, too?” “Oh, that fucking bast— wait, did you just say too?”

“You need to stop kissing me like you mean it; I’m going to read into things wrong and end up breaking my own heart.” “That’s because I do mean it every single time. You’ve just been too dense to realise.”

“Why are you apologising for liking me back?” “Because I don’t want to ruin— wait a second. Pause and rewind, what did you just say?”

“You don’t have to like me back, you know? I just wanted to let you know how I felt, that’s all.” “Well, too bad! Because these feelings are mutual, and now you can’t get rid of me.”

“Why are you lying to me? You can tell me the truth, it’s okay. I’m strong enough for the truth, I swear.” “What? I’m not lying to you! You’d think you’d pick up on the signs that I’ve been in love with you, for fucking forever, but apparently someone’s too obtuse to realise that!”

#unrequited love #requited love #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #otp prompts #angst prompts #fluff prompts #romance prompts #friends to lovers #mutual pining #pining #idiots in love #using my own ao3 tag in the title

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feralforfrank · 1 year

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NOTHING'S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

summary reader gets injured while looking out for the team and simon riley worries.

cw descriptive scenes of reader getting injured, cod canon violence, stab wounds & blood loss, worried!simon riley. angst!!!!! hurt with tiny bit of comfort (from simon to reader) NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. tell me if i missed anything!

a/n is this deserving of a part two? does it feel rushed? is THIS really how i want to enter the cod mw2 fandom!?!! so many questions.

masterlist | taglist

"Ghost," you spoke his name in a hushed tone, mainly to hide from the enemy but also to hide the shake in your voice.

"I'm here, Owl. I'm coming to get ya." You could hear Ghost running, and you tried to focus on the sounds he made instead of the stinging pain on your thigh and side.

It was your fault. All of it. You were supposed to be on the roof, not on the goddamn ground. You're a sniper, for fuck's sake. But being above ground, you spotted two men making their way to where the team's getaway car was. You weren't allowing them to steal your vehicle, but if you shot at them, it would alert the others, and your position would've been compromised.

You knew how to fight. Although you never liked engaging the enemy face to face and your eyes were better used above ground, thus why you were a sniper and why they called you Owl, Ghost and Soap trained you to take down men as big as them.

The first man went down quickly, he was skinny, and you surprised him. He was gurgling on his one blood in seconds. The second guy pinned you to the wall. You took your second knife from your right thigh strap and pierced his stomach twice. He was slipping from your grasp when you felt the knife you'd used on him puncture your thigh.

You screamed. A shriek left your mouth before you could stop it. Your thigh throbbed as you landed a final blow on the side of the man's neck. You stumbled off the wall, blinking the tears and black dots away. You heard someone call your name through comms, but you didn't have time to answer.

The third man came behind you. He must've heard you scream. He circled his buff biceps around your throat and squeezed. Fight and flight kicked in. Andrenaline was pumping in your bloodstream, and, without thinking twice, you bit his bicep. Hard.

He cursed and moved away from you for a split second, and you got a chance to suck in a breath. You stumbled forward, but he caught you, spinning you around and pulling you so impossibly close.

At first, you didn't feel it. A shot rang out, and his body slumped forward, distracting you. The man was dead in your arms, and his blood had splattered on your face and continued spilling on your shoulder. Your head shot up to your station—that's where the gunshot had come from. Gaz asked you if you were okay. You tried to nod, and that's when you felt it.

Your ears started ringing. You stepped back, the man falling completely from your grasp and onto the ground. You choked on your breath. Your hand instinctively fell to your side and then rose in front of your face. You were bleeding from two places now.

Gaz called for you again, but you didn't answer. You felt dizzy, and as much as you tried blinking those black spots away, they just wouldn't go. You leaned against the wall. Ghost ordered your whereabouts, and Gaz answered him hurriedly, adding that he could see you losing consciousness. So, that's who shot from your position. Ghost confirmed that he was coming your way.

And that's how you ended up in this position.

"Please, hurry." Your cry of pain made the lieutenant's pace pick up.

Ghost always had some sort of a soft spot for you. Your kind-hearted, friendly nature and bubbly personality didn't help his growing infatuation. You were too sweet for your own good, and he swore your sarcastic comments directed mostly at Soap always managed to melt his heart.

The guys weren't oblivious—they could see how Ghost always stared at you. His hard eyes seemed to soften when looking at you. Actually, his whole posture changed when you were around. Ghost was always near you, a soft hand placed on your lower back and guiding you when you were in the dark during missions, and glances were thrown at you when you were too quiet to make sure you were doing okay.

Soap and Gaz had joked about his fascination with you, asking him why he never made a move. He'd shut them down and called them inappropriate before lowering his head to hide how flustered he felt. He thought burying those teenage sentiments at the very back of his mind would be the best. He's never been good at expressing his feelings, and for fuck's sake, he was your superior.

But as he heard your breath come out in gasps and Gaz telling him to hurry up through comms, he felt panic inside him. His steps became more urgent, and his grip on the gun tightened. He was almost there.

"Don't move. I'm coming to get you." Ghost's voice was filled with utter panic and anxiety, and he took a breath to get rid of the shake in his tone. "I'm almost there, darlin'."

Fuck.

He hadn't meant for that to slip out. He heard your breath hitch. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

He turned the corner, and there you were, slumped on the wall, holding your side with your palm and breathing heavily. He placed his gun in its holster and ran toward you. You collapsed with a groan, your forehead touching his vest.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I'm so sorry. They were—They were trying to escape with our c-car, and I couldn't let—I couldn't let them—" You gasped for breath as Ghost looked around at the dead bodies.

It was dark, but he could make out three silhouettes, definitely larger frames than yours, and they all lay dead in a puddle of their own blood.

"It's okay, it's alright, love. I'm here now. I'm not goin' anywhere." A soft whimper escaped your lips, and he felt your body give in to the fatigue caused by the blood loss.

Ghost picked you up, requesting the rest of the team to meet him at his location. The car was unlocked and untouched, and his heart swole with pride. You'd taken out three soldiers to protect the team and secure their getaway transportation.

You mumbled his name as he placed you in the backseat. He quickly got in, and pulled you in his arms again, one palm pressing on your wounded side and the other on your bleeding thigh.

Soap slipped in the driver's seat, Gaz following right behind him. "How's she doing, Lt.?" The former asked, glancing behind him once.

"She'll be fine if you move this goddamn car!" Ghost's tone was sharp, but Soap didn't take it personally.

"Where to, Ghost?" John asked.

"The safe house. Make sure no one follows us. As soon as we're in the clear, Gaz, you call Price. Tell 'im to send evac." Gaz nods curtly, followed by a yes, sir.

"Simon." You shift, snuggling closer to his body.

The frown on your face deepens. Simon looks down at you. His heart hasn't stopped its rapid beating, and worry mixed with panic is still swirling in his blood. He wants to tell John to hurry the fuck up, but he knows the soldier is going as fast as possible.

You whine in distress, your eyes blinking ever so slowly. Your ears ring, your gaze is unfocused, and your eyes are glassy with tears ready to fall.

"Shh, it's alright, love," Simon whispers. "You're goin' be okay."

"Am I dying?" You speak in hushed panic.

Simon shakes his head quickly from side to side as if your words burned him. "No, you're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed, okay? I can fix it." He's trying to convince himself more than he's trying to convince you.

"Are they after us?" He shakes his head again. "So, we're safe? I'm safe?"

"Nothing's gonna hurt you. As long as I'm here, no one's hurting you again, ya hear me?" The finality in his voice is the reassurance you need to soothe you.

You feel your eyes drooping again, and the ringing in your ears finally fades out. "Thank you, Simon."

previous | next

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hoodie-buck · 7 months

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—second secret fic is here! this one is for my dearest spotty 🥰 @spotsandsocks happiest of birthday’s! here’s a small gift for you beloved 🫶🏼 special shout-out to the anon who sent in this ask! your idea sparked much joy ✨

rated: t | words: 6.1k | read on ao3

summary

“Oh, you have to meet my wedding planner!"

Adriana rushed over to meet the guy, all but dragging him over to where he was stood, Eddie suddenly face to face with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, a pink splotchy birthmark above the mans left eye. A shy smile splayed across the guy’s face, Eddie watching as he ducked his head down.

“Eddie, I want you to meet the most amazing man in my life…well a part from my fiancé.”

The man next to her blushed, ducking his head away once more. “Buck, this is my brother, Eddie.”

Adriana all but nodded at Eddie, and this Buck guy, ushering them to shake hands and greet properly. He wasn’t sure which one of them stuck their hand out first, only that when they connected, they just fit.

—or—

Buck is Eddie's sisters wedding planner. Too bad all his plans involve Eddie

tagging squad below, lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3

tags: @loserdiaz @redlightsandicedtea @loveyourownsmiilee @monsterrae1 @buddierights @swiftiebuckleyhan @honestlydarkprincess @barbiediaz @spotsandsocks @justsmilestuffhappens @cowboydiazes @djdangerlove @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @jacksadventuresinwriting @stanningsky @wh0re-behavi0r @ronordmann @spaceprincessem @arthursdent @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @betty-boom @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @pirrusstuff @nmcggg @theotherbuckley @louis-tenn @the-gayest-wug @buckley-diaz-rules @muppetbuddie

#buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan 'buck' buckley #christopher diaz #buckley diaz family #911 #different first meeting #wedding planner #clipboard!buck #idiots in love #fluff #light angst #kel(s) writing

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milla984 · 8 months

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A Million Reasons

Summary: after a phone call from Penelope, Reader teases Spencer about a potential love interest and things don’t go exactly as planned.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Category: fluff with a little angst

TW/CW: a little bit of angst, brief mentions of food, self-doubt, mentions of anxiety, kissing

Word Count: 1.2k

Thank you @drgenius-reid for taking the time to beta-read this!

The following work is my entry for @andiebeaword's 3,000 Follower Celebration Writing Challenge (prompt n. 12) and is also part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

Spencer scooped out of the paper cup what was left of his ice cream before he finished recounting the events leading to the arrest of the unsub the entire BAU team had been successfully tracking down in Seattle during the past few days.

“He’ll be charged with ten counts of murder, one attempted murder, and unlawful possession of multiple weapons. He’s facing ten life sentences without parole.”

“Way to go, Justice League!” you cheered, enthusiastic.

He tucked his hair behind his ear with a cute chuckle. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow so you caught a glimpse of his wristwatch reflecting the light of a lamp post standing along the edge of the walking path; from the bench you were both sitting on you could see the illuminated dome of the US Capitol rising up against the dark mid-summer sky.

Despite being within walking distance of a major street in the southwest quadrant of Washington, the park was quiet and uncrowded and the nearby gelato shop was one of Spencer’s favorites.

You took the last sip of your drink, acting very casual. “And that’s all that happened?”

He shrugged, unsure about which crucial information could have been missing from his story since he was under strict instructions not to fill you in on the most gruesome details of the cases he’d worked.

“Uhm, graphic descriptions of tortures and mutilations are not—”

“I’m talking about a certain homicide detective… the one you gave your number to…?” you explained and his jaw dropped instantly.

“What?!”

You nudged at him with your elbow. “Garcia called me from the Original Starbucks in Pike Place. I couldn’t tell if the hype was about your new admirer or being there.”

“I don't understand how this is such a big deal!” he blurted out in a high-pitched voice. “She showed an interest in what we do so I gave her my card.”

No profiling skills were required to detect his firm intention to avoid discussing the matter, yet the words came out of your mouth like a river in spate.

“Any chance it wasn’t only a professional interest?”

The way Spencer looked at you, disappointed and hurt, hit you worse than a punch in the liver.

“What’s with you, guys?! Are– are you all so invested in my personal life because you’re convinced I’m chronically unable to have one without your help?” he snapped, something you’d never seen him do.

“I’m s—” you tried to reply, even though he was still too angry to let you apologize and cut you off again.

“Or maybe it’s just that I’m no Derek Morgan, so the idea of someone noticing I exist is pathetic or funny to you?”

“Seriously?! An IQ of 187 and this is the best inference you can come up with?” you snorted, upset by the subtle insult he’d thrown at you - even if you had to admit you deserved it.

His brows furrowed. “Then why did you bring this up?”

“I didn’t mean to pry, I’m sorry. I truly am,” you admitted, “but I would never ever think that people hitting on you is pathetic, give me some credit!”

He remained silent for a while, quite aware that Penelope’s inability to keep her mouth shut generated from genuine excitement about what she perceived as good news; sharing such personal information with you meant you had been put to the test over and over and, in the end, deemed worthy of her trust.

The peaceful atmosphere around you served as an amplifier for the sound of splashing water and Spencer indicated the fountain at the center of the large, round basin in front of you with a jerk of his head.

“I read a book about the architectural history of D.C. on the way back. This piece was created for the 1876 Centennial International Exhibition in Philadelphia, the US Congress acquired it in 1877 and placed it at the base of Capitol Hill. It was dismantled in 1926, then it remained in storage until 1932 when they moved it here.”

The pedestal held three twin iron-casted sea nymphs wearing wet tunics, with their arms raised above their heads to support a shallow vasque; on top was a group of kneeling child tritons, and the base was decorated with turtle-like aquatic creatures.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumbled.

The fact he’d for sure started and finished said book in less than fifteen minutes was among the 999.999 entries in your list of reasons to crush over SSA Reid. And so were his three PhDs, his crooked ties, his passion for Star Wars, chess and Halloween.

“I don’t talk much about my private life. Especially outside of work,” he confessed after a pause. “A lot of times I have a hard time discussing personal issues—”

“Spencer… you know you don’t owe me an explanation, right?” you rushed to clarify.

He nodded and you did the same in response, to confirm you had no intention of pressuring him into opening up if he felt uncomfortable but were also ready to listen to anything he had to say; even in dim light, you could see the sadness veiling his beautiful hazel eyes.

“I’m sorry I overreacted. Garcia was being Garcia, with her ‘look at the world through rose-colored glasses’ scenarios. Except, in this case giving my card to a homicide detective to discuss behavioral sciences was just what it sounds like. I understand where she’s coming from, I never told her…”

Your whole body tensed up, courtesy of a rush of anxiety triggered by the possibility of him being already involved with someone he had never mentioned, not even to his closest friends; you wondered if he could hear the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Luckily for you, Spencer didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m trying to come to terms with something I’ve been feeling, for weeks now. And I’m worried, because of what happened in the past and I can’t let go of…” his voice broke a little, so he swallowed. “Deep down I’m afraid I'm not the type of person who gets to live out happily ever after.”

Refraining from hugging him on the spot and holding him close to your heart had gotten increasingly difficult lately, so you settled for a peck on his temple in a clumsy attempt at a comforting gesture.

Spencer jolted, befuddled, and for a moment you feared for the worst; you certainly didn’t expect him to lean forward to cup your face in his hands - big hands. With slender, elegant fingers he tenderly brushed over your cheeks.

You both held your breath, waiting for the distance between you to vanish until your foreheads touched and the tips of your noses rubbed together.

“... are we really doing this?!” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine.

You smiled. “Don’t make me wait for another six months.”

Spencer squinted, an indication he was browsing countless data and events stored in his memory; when he eventually pinpointed the exact moment you fell for him he squeaked in surprise.

“Christm—”

You pressed your palm on the nape of his neck, guiding his lips over yours for the kiss you both had been longing for.

Reason number 1.000.000: Dr. Reid had a crush on you, too.

@thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid, @pretty-boys-book-club, @spookydrreid, @f-me-reid, @foxy-eva, @scorpiofangirl1109, @a-potato-wearing-plaid, @cynbx, @reidsbookclub, @nagemasstuff, @hotchsdharma, @reidmainbitch, @lizzylynch1, @will-grahams-eyes, @padawancat97

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid x reader #friends to lovers #mutual pining #idiots in love #my gifs #milla writes stuff #andies3kwritingcelebration #for the first time i don't hate the title!#fun fact: the setting for this one is a real place in d.c.

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