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isawthisangel · 2 years

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Sunday (Steven Grant x reader)

word count -> 4.2k

plot summary -> your date night takes an unexpected turn, and Steven doesn't know what day it is

a/n -> this is my first moonknight fic that i've written, i hope you enjoy it ! feel free to send me prompts, and comment to be added to a tag list! happy reading !

You arrive early, and he’s sat waiting.

The sight of him sends a familiar thrill through you, despite the fact that you’ve barely ever spoken to him. Steven with a v, the guy working in the gift shop; the bane of Donna’s existence. You’ve heard your boss complain about Steven more than all of your other co-workers at the museum combined.

Given your dislike of Donna, this has only served to make you like him more.

Steven looks tired, as per usual, and his knee is bouncing at a rapid pace underneath the tablecloth, his fingers tapping out a nervous beat on the table.

You hover several feet away, uncertain. Two thoughts coexist in your head: one, why is he here? And more importantly, two, can you go over? Because he’s waiting, yes, but definitely not for you.

Only this week had you finally managed to pluck up the courage to decide that you were going to ask him out. Or at least talk to him. There had been less of a plan, more of a whim borne of the several glasses of wine you’d consumed with your chinese takeaway the night before.

Upon waking up the morning after, you’d swiftly decided that no, you would not be asking anyone out, until you crossed paths with Steven as he was rushing into work.

‘Late again, Stevie,’ Donna reprimanded him from across the room as he’d hurried through the door. He’d turned to the sound of her voice, and subsequently hadn’t seen you walking towards him, also looking over your shoulder.

‘It’s Steven,’ he’d replied. ‘Ste-’

You’d gasped as the two of you collided, turning just in time to catch the flask of coffee which Steven had been about to dump all over your chest.

‘Oh, bollocks, I’m so sorry,’ he’d apologised hastily, looking at you with genuine worry in his eyes. Genuine worry which you did not see, preoccupied as you were with finding yourself at such close proximity to his chest.

‘It’s okay,’ you’d smiled, recovering quickly, before looking up at him and having the breath inadvertently knocked out of you again. He was inexplicably better looking up close, his eyes a richer shade of brown than you could have possibly imagined, which you had. The unfairness of it had jolted you back to reality.

‘Here,’ you’d said, pushing his flask back into his hands and taking a step back.

‘Thanks,’ he’d replied, and with another smile you’d carried on walking. Fuck, you’d thought to yourself as you walked away to the dulcet tones of Donna complaining to someone how Steven couldn’t even walk in a straight line properly.

How were you supposed to ask him out if you couldn’t even look at him without being rendered totally useless?

The rest of your day was spent giving tours on autopilot and trying to supress the adrenaline that insisted upon aggressively coursing through your veins every time you saw Steven out of the corner of your eye, stronger and more intense than it had been in previous weeks. You had to do something about it. He would say yes, or he would say no, and that would be the end of it.

As it turned out, you wouldn’t even have to ask him to get your answer. You’d just finished up your penultimate tour for the day and were hanging around by the gift shop bidding people goodbye when one of the other tour guides walked past you, her heels clicking on the marble floor, and went straight up to Steven, who was doing something behind the counter.

‘Hello,’ she had said, and you’d heard the smile in her voice.

‘Hello,’ Steven replied.

‘How’s the sugar trade?’

It was at this moment that you’d recognised that eavesdropping like this might be considered less than normal, and started to walk away. Before you could leave however, you were waylaid by some of the visitors from your tour, wanting to thank you. It was for this reason that you’d heard the woman at the counter say: ‘We still on for seven tomorrow?’

Long story short, you’d left work that day in the most awful of moods, and when a guy from the post office had asked you on a date the day after you’d practically bitten his hand off.

Which is why you’re stood outside this restaurant at seven pm on a Sunday, wondering what Steven is doing here with flowers and chocolate when his date was scheduled for two days ago.

Before you’ve even had time to think about deciding whether to approach him or not, his eyes glance sideways and meet yours. His eyebrows shoot up, and you freeze, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline shoot through you, followed by embarrassment as you catch his gaze skimming from your face to your shoes and back up again.

Then he’s waving, and you should not be finding it at all endearing because he isn’t your date, but you can’t help it. You can’t not go to him now. Autopilot kicks in, and you let your legs carry you forward and your lips tug upwards into a smile, which grows wider as Steven bumps the table when he stands up and has to grab at it to stop everything from falling to the ground.

‘Hi,’ you say as you reach him, glancing at the table. God fucking damnit. He’s bought Belgian chocolates. You love Belgian chocolate.

‘Hi,’ he replies, and you look back up at him and his sheepish smile. ‘I’m not always knockin’ into things, I promise.’

You laugh, and then realise that you’re not thinking of anything to say back to him.

‘What are you doing here?’ you ask him hastily. Nice. Real smooth.

You’re inwardly cursing yourself as Steven frowns slightly before giving half a laugh and gesturing at the flowers and chocolates on the table.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

You can’t ask him what you want to (‘Why are you two days late to a date?’) without him probably filing a restraining order against you, so instead you smile and incline your head.

‘Sorry, yes. You look nice,’ you tell him, resisting the urge to reach out and straighten the collar of his jacket.

‘Not as nice as you,’ he says quickly, before proceeding to look mortified. You’re smiling as he briefly closes his eyes, you can’t help it.

‘Sorry. That was weird, I just meant -’

‘No, it’s fine. Thank you,’ you smile, struggling to resist the grin which is fighting to plaster itself across your face. He’s biting his lip and shaking his head at the ground as though it’s personally wronged him, and then he looks back up at you apologetically, and all you want in the world is to sit down across from him and have this date for yourself.

‘Y/N?’

You turn, and the spell is broken, because here’s your date. You smile at him before turning back to Steven, who is looking past you now, towards the man behind you.

‘I’ve gotta go. Good luck,’ you smile, and it’s selfish but you’ve never meant anything less in your life.

‘Yeah. Yeah, thanks. You too,’ he says sincerely, moving his gaze back to you. It’s almost physically painful to turn and walk away.

…

Half an hour later you’re already a bottle of wine deep, and it’s shaping up to be one of the worst dates ever. You’ve been asked exactly one question about yourself (‘What are you having to eat?’), and have for the rest of the time been subjected to listening to tales from the life of a man who works in a post office.

The only saving grace has been the sight of Steven, who incidentally is still sat alone, behind your date about forty feet away.

‘Excuse me, can we get another bottle of the red please? Thanks,’ your date asks a passing waiter. Bold of him to assume you’ll be sticking around for another bottle of wine.

He launches back into his anecdote about one of his work colleagues who sounds just about as boring as him, and your eyes drift slightly left to find Steven again. He looks utterly fed up, and something white-hot starts simmering deep in your chest when you think about the woman who has clearly stood him up.

‘Am I boring you?’

Shit.

‘No, no. Sorry,’ you apologise, looking quickly back to your date. His eyes narrow, and he smiles.

‘Tell me about yourself,’ he says, leaning forward on his elbows. Ah. Maybe he’s not a lost cause after all.

It takes him twenty minutes and half a bottle of wine to prove you wrong.

‘Sorry, just need to use the bog. Won’t be a sec,’ he says eventually, hauling himself to his feet and walking away. Without him sat opposite you, you have a clearer view of Steven, who is now on the phone, still waiting. You have to give him credit, it’s been almost one hour. You’d have left ages ago.

The wine you’ve consumed has been fuelling that boiling, simmering feeling in your chest which you can’t quite place, and it’s grown so strong that you simply can’t sit here and ignore it anymore. Just as you think this, Steven looks up and meets your gaze.

You stand up abruptly and grab your bag with one hand, and the bottle of wine from the table with the other. This is happening. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you walk swiftly over to Steven’s table and hold your hand out.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ you say, acutely aware that if you didn’t currently have that lovely, heady feeling that wine gives you, this wouldn’t be happening.

‘What?’ he asks, looking from your face to your hand and back again.

‘Please. Before he comes back,’ you say desperately, already walking backwards, motioning for him to follow you. He stares at you for a second longer, and for an awful moment you think he’s going to say no, but then he’s grabbing your hand and standing up.

The feel of his palm against yours sends electricity zipping up your arm, and a laugh bubbles in your throat.

‘Bring the chocolate,’ you tell him, and he seizes them and then you’re pulling him down the steps to the restaurant, out towards the road, scanning for a cab.

‘There,’ Steven says, and then he’s pulling you along instead and you’re letting him, lightheaded with more than just wine. He flags down a cab with the hand holding the box of chocolates, your hand still clasped in his other one, and when it stops lets you go and holds the door open for you.

You slide across so that he can follow you in, heart banging against your rib cage as if you’ve just run the hundred metre sprint. Steven pulls the door shut and you give the driver your address, before sitting back in your seat heavily. Exhilarated isn’t the word.

‘I’ve never ditched a date before,’ you say, before turning to look at him. He’s staring at the back of the headrest in front of him, looking vaguely horrified. Your smile fades when he doesn’t reply.

‘Hey, you okay?’ you ask, reaching out to touch his arm. He just shakes his head. The simmering feeling in your chest makes itself more apparent as the adrenaline fades.

‘Getting stood up is horrible. I’m sorry,’ you sympathise, letting your head fall back against the headrest. He just shakes his head again, and you frown.

‘Are you-’

‘What day is it?’

Your expression is one of confusion as he finally turns to look at you. You search his features, looking for a joke, but can’t find one. There’s genuine panic flickering behind his eyes.

‘It – it’s Sunday, right?’ you say, and apparently that was the wrong answer because Steven buries his head in his hands and makes a noise low in his throat. You’re at a complete loss, suddenly feeling very out of your depth.

Where before you’d been glad of the haziness which comes with drinking wine, you wish now that your head was clear so that you might be of more use.

You sit in silence for a while, cradling your stolen wine in your lap and sobering up by the second as you slowly make your way through London traffic, fighting to think of something to say.

Steven finally mumbles something into his hands, and you jump on it.

‘What?’ you ask immediately. He removes his hands from his face and blinks.

‘She didn’t stand me up. I stood her up,’ he tells you quietly.

‘Wait, you thought today was Friday?’ you ask incredulously. He nods, and then frowns and looks over at you.

‘How’d you know the date was on Friday?’

You open your mouth and then close it again. Guilty.

‘I just – I overheard her asking you the other day. It wasn’t weird or anything…’ you trail off as he presses the palms of his hands into his eyes.

‘Are you sure? Are you sure it’s not Friday?’ Steven asks you, letting his hands drop into his lap and looking at you with something like desperation. You can only nod.

You’re so busy wondering what the hell is going on that you don’t realise you’ve stopped outside your place until the driver asks you for the fare. You pay it, and then open your door.

‘Come on,’ you say to Steven.

‘What?’

‘I’m not letting you go home on your own like this. Come on,’ you repeat. He looks like he wants to argue, but apparently he doesn’t have it in him. He follows you out of the cab to the door of the apartment complex, then up two flights of stairs to your front door, and then Steven Grant is in your apartment.

It’s not messy, but you hadn’t exactly left it tidy before you’d left for your date, and you have to stop yourself from apologising for the mess.

‘Here, sit down,’ you say, putting the wine down to pick a pile of books up off of your sofa so that he can sit. He looks as though he’s in a trance, his eyes sliding over things instead of seeing them as he sits, dropping the chocolates beside him.

You discard your bag on the coffee table next to the wine and kick your shoes off before sitting down next to him gingerly.

‘I’m gonna order food, you want anything?’ you ask tentatively, opening your phone.

‘I- yeah, actually. Cheers,’ he nods, and it’s not much but at least he’s speaking.

‘I was gonna get pizza, what do you want?’ you ask.

‘Whatever you want.’

‘Margherita?’

‘Oh, I’m vegan.’

You frown, and he turns to look at you when you don’t reply.

‘What?’

‘We just – why were you going on a date to a steak house if you’re vegan?’

He laughs, and you’re really worried about him now. He brings a hand up to his forehead and rubs, hard.

‘I – I dunno,’ he replies, his voice cracking.

You can’t think of a response, so you order two pizzas, one vegan, one margherita, and then drop your phone in your lap, sitting back and slinging your arm over the back of the sofa. If you can’t feel confident managing a practical stranger having what you’re pretty sure is a mental breakdown in your living room, at least you can look it.

‘You wanna talk about it?’ you ask, and Steven sighs heavily.

‘I think – I think I’m goin’ mental,’ he says, staring at something you can’t see in the middle distance.

‘Why do you think that?’

He exhales sharply and then turns to smile ruefully at you, and you have to remind yourself that you are confident and that the way he’s looking at you isn’t making your chest go tight.

‘I keep havin’ these periods where I just… I black out. And I can’t remember anythin’ afterwards, where I was or what I was doin’. It’s exhaustin’. And scary,’ he tells you, pulling at the ends of his sleeves so that they cover his hands.

‘So you – you blacked out on Thursday, and woke up today? And didn’t even realise?’ you ask him incredulously.

‘I… yeah,’ he nods, shifting in his seat. You try and shake the feeling that he’s not telling you something.

‘Have you talked to anyone about it? Like a doctor, I mean?’ you ask, concern creeping its way into your voice. Steven shakes his head.

‘It’s not like that, I’m not ill,’ he says, and his tone is so firm that any thoughts you’d had about arguing with him vanish instantly.

‘What do you think it is, then?’

He just shakes his head, bringing his shoulders up towards his ears. His hair falls forward on to his forehead and he reaches up to push it back before it’s fully settled there: a reflex, just like the way your fingers curl in on themselves in an attempt to stop the obtrusive thoughts which enter your head as you watch him.

‘I’m really sorry, about this. I shouldn’t be draggin’ you into my problems,’ he says abruptly, turning to look at you again as your gaze falls from his hair with his hand.

‘No, don’t be silly. It’s fine; it’s not like I’ve got anything better to be doing,’ you smile, hoping he hadn’t seen you staring at his hair. He definitely had.

‘I’m sorry your date didn’t go well,’ he tells you, and you’re stunned because he’s going through this huge, terrifying thing and still finding the time to care about other people. To care about you.

‘Yeah, well,’ you say, and it’s your turn to shrug as you bring your hand hanging behind the sofa up to lean your head on it. ‘Next time, maybe.’

‘What happened? If you don’t mind me askin’,’ he says, shifting his weight so that he’s facing you.

‘Ah, he was just self-centred, you know? He asked me two questions in an hour, and one of them was about what I wanted to eat.’ And the other was because he was trying to distract me from you.

You push the thought down, deep. ‘I could literally see him spacing out when I told him about my job.’

Steven pulls a face. ‘His loss. You have the best job in the world.’

You raise your eyebrows. ‘Is that so?’

He stares at you, incredulous. ‘Uh, yeah! Museum tour guide? I’d do anything for that job.’

‘Really? You’re into Egyptology?’

Something shifts in him; his eyes light up as though a fire has been lit behind them and he comes to life, words spilling out of him like water from a dam which you’ve unintentionally opened.

He talks and he talks, but not in the way your date had, this is different. He’s not trying to impress you; there’s no personal gain to be had from telling you any of it, he just genuinely wants to share his information with you.

Information that, yes, you mostly already know, but you’d rather climb out of the window and jump than tell him that.

As he talks, his sleeves which he’d pulled down over his hands are pulled back to his wrists by his hand gestures, and you’re trying to listen to what he’s telling you, you are, but he’s just so distracting like this. Animated. Happy. You couldn’t look away from him if you tried.

He’s broken from his flow only by the sound of someone buzzing up from the front door.

‘Pizza,’ you say, getting to your feet and grabbing the bottle of wine. ‘Come on, we’ll go up to the roof.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Steven blinks, standing up and grabbing the chocolates before following you to your front door.

‘What were you saying?’

‘Oh-’

He talks all the way down to the door, and then all the way up to the top floor in the elevator. He’s on to Egyptian mythology now, which you actually don’t know all that much about, so you listen avidly the whole time.

Steven stops talking when you exit the elevator on the top floor as you hand him your pizza box and start climbing up a ladder leading to a trap door, which is very clearly labelled ‘Do Not Use’.

‘Uh, is this… safe?’ he asks you as you fiddle with the latch on the trapdoor.

‘Sure,’ you say, heaving the door open upwards with one hand. ‘We’re not technically supposed to come up here, but everyone does.’

You hold out your hand for the pizza boxes. He passes them to you and you lift them through the trapdoor, before pulling yourself up on to the roof. It’s grown dark since you got home and there are no lights on the roof, but you’re in central London and it’s a cloudless night; the roof is bathed in moonlight.

‘Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want you gettin’ evicted ‘cause of me,’ Steven asks again as he emerges from the trapdoor.

‘I come up here all the time, I promise. And look, proof that other people come up here too,’ you say, pointing to the old chairs scattered at various intervals around the roof top.

‘Fine,’ he concedes, and you smile and make your way towards two of the comfier looking chairs.

‘Voila. The best view in London,’ you proclaim, handing him his pizza back and placing the wine on the floor as he sits down next to you.

‘Yeah. It’s not bad,’ he agrees, and hunger hits you like a truck as you open your pizza box and inhale, eyes closed, not seeing Steven grin as he watches you.

‘Best pizza in London,’ you say, almost subconsciously, before taking your first bite.

‘Wow, best view, and best pizza? All in one evenin’?’ he teases, and you shrug, eyebrows raised. What can I say?

You reach for the wine and then groan when you realise you didn’t think to bring glasses with you.

‘What?’

‘I forgot wine glasses.’

‘We could just drink from the bottle,’ Steven suggests, and you turn to him with a wide smile. He’s wearing a lop-sided grin which makes your heart stutter for a second.

‘Cheers to that,’ you say happily.

You eat and talk and finish the wine, inviting that heady feeling back again as the moon drifts slowly higher into the sky above you.

When the pizza boxes are empty and discarded behind you, along with the bottle of wine, Steven turns to you and says, ‘Do you like Belgian chocolate?’ and all you can do is smile and nod and hope that he can’t see in your eyes how much you adore him in this moment.

It’s getting late, and cold, but you’re reluctant to say anything. You feel like you’re in your own little safe bubble up here, where it seems as though you’re closer to the sky than the ground, and sharing it with Steven has only served to make it better.

‘Aren’t you cold?’ he asks you, and you’re truly not, the wine you’d drunk seeming to heat you from the inside out, but he’s already shrugging off his jacket before you’ve even started to shake your head.

‘No, really, I’m fine-’

‘Take it,’ he insists sincerely, holding it out to you.

So you find yourself sat in the sky, wrapped in Steven’s jacket, drunk on wine and the moonlit air and the way it illuminates the man sat next to you.

‘I don’t remember askin’ her out.’

You turn your head to look at him, and he’s watching something in the sky which you can’t see.

‘Your date?’ you frown, and he nods. Oh. He’d blacked out before he’d asked her. Which meant…

‘I kinda had my eye on someone else at work, to tell the truth,’ he admits, and your heart flies upwards to lodge itself in your throat. You swallow hard in an attempt to push it back down.

‘Yeah?’ you ask, but it comes out as a sort of hoarse whisper.

‘Yeah,’ he replies, turning to look at you with a small smile gracing his features. You’ve not yet met this Steven: self-assured, forth coming, even if he is blushing. You like him a lot. Heat blossoms in your face and you have to look away, smiling.

‘Turns out I didn’t even have to ask you on a date to get one,’ he chuckles. You look back to him, eyebrows raised.

‘A date?’

‘What do you call this?’ he asks you, gesturing around.

Wine, chocolate. Moonlight. His jacket around your shoulders. He has a point. You tell him so.

‘Maybe that ‘next time’ you were talkin’ about could be with me? On a real date. Not an accidental one,’ he asks you, his eyes searching your face for an answer nervously as though you’re going to reply with anything other than yes.

‘I would love that.’

His shoulders drop and he exhales swiftly, a grin replacing the hopeful look on his face.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ you nod, not even attempting to rid your face of the smile which has occupied it. You’re truly doubtful it will ever leave, after tonight.

Tag list 💌

@hhaydenn

#moon knight #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x reader insert #steven grant fanfic #steven grant fanfiction #moonknight fanfic #moonknight fanfiction #moon knight series #moon knight x reader #sunday

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cathalbravecog · 1 year

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I LOVE SAMMICH!!

♠️ Guzma / Frostbite / Cathal (Friends can call me Goons ma!)

♠️ They/Them, It/Its or He/Him !!!

♠️ Cathal's best friend and sibling (canon) and Allan's horrible chaos adoptive child (canon)

♠️ High Roller's "Secret Third Thing" and Co-Host (canon...?)

♠️ The most swag Cog around, here to cause mayhem

♠️ CLICK HERE TO GO TO MY TOON'S ASK/RP BLOG!!!

(More intro post stuff below! BTW "#guz art" is my art tag!)

Care to read more? Alrighty! Welcome, Toons and Suits alike! This is a side-blog just to dump my Toontown Corporate clash related things onto.

If it's TTCC, it goes here! How nice! Now, I do not plan on interacting with the fandom very much outside of the game and people I'm familiar with. I will only main tag things that I like if I'm confident. Be aware I don't go into the tags myself - I have stuff sent to me or I reblog from others - or check blogs I already know of.

Feel free to ask me things and talk to me about TTCC, though!! I love answering things! I just don't plan on initiating conversations myself as I'd prefer to stay in my own bubble. Despite my energy, I can be very shy. I also tend to delete posts due to personal fears, so if you can't find a post from me you once saw, that may be why.

Want to play with me? Okay by me! If I play, I'm probably playing as my main toon, Frostbite The Bat! Currently at 132 laff. Feel free to say hi! You can also find me multitooning, or just playing on my alt Toons alone. My most played alt toons are: Archie Archeopteryx and Winstoon Byrd! (I have way more Toons, though.)

(That's me!) (I think you should run. /speedchat)

Now, for some fun history... I originally only played on TTR, but that got boring and I stopped. I played on TTCC once or twice in 2019 before a lot of the big updates. Now, years later, I decided to get into Toontown again, but went with TTCC instead. I missed all the lore updates, and I wish I was there to experience them first-hand. I am very glad to have began playing Toontown again - it has changed my life for the better and I've met some of my best friends I've ever had through it.

Again, I encourage sending me asks! But I'd prefer if nobody asks me about ships. I'm disinterested in those and I am not here for that. If you need something tagged, let me know! I may be polite on this post, but I shitpost a lot and I swear like a sailor sometimes, so be wary of that. This is a NON NORMAL zone. We all go here to get weird, buddy. I also post a lot on impulse and when I'm tired. Again, I may delete too rambly posts sometimes. I worry a lot and I'm just like that, please be patient with me.

#pinned #guz art #<- art tag :3

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ageless-aislynn · 9 months

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Last line tag game

Tagged by @thephaeronsforge aka @sarnakhwritesthings Thanks so much! ❤

Kai smiled.

"Recreation" chapter 3, allllmost done but not quite there. 🤞😣🤞

Since that was so small, literally almost not able to even be much smaller, lol, I thought I'd turn to its sibling fic "15 Minutes" chapter 7 also in progress and

"There's no such thing," you muttered.

Yep, also pretty short sooooo how do you feel about the opening to the original fic that's also part of my Camp NaNo? Yeah, hardly a last line, I know, but well... It's never going to see the light of day in any form so I thought it would be fun to share it here. 👀🤷‍♀️

It began as an idle idea for a very AU Mass Effect: Andromeda reader fic that I knew I'd never actually write and post because it was simply pulling waaaaay too far away from the source, dumping all of the lore and such, so what was the point? Then I realized, hey, that's means it's FREE REAL ESTATE for making it my own thing, right? 😛

However, for this purpose, I put the ME:A names, references, etc. back in and made it a reader fic again. It also seems to read kinda like a Halo hybrid because that's what ya girl's been writing over in Fanficville so...? 🤷‍♀️😉

Under a read more because of the length. I'll also mention here so it's not necessary to click through that I'm tagging anybody who'd like to do this. *boops your nose politely* 😉 Definitely let me know if you do, though, 'cause I'd love to read it! 🤗

The first thing you noticed was Alec Ryder standing ramrod-stiff at attention, awaiting your arrival as if you were a five-star general and he was a cadet worried he hadn't shined his boots properly enough. "Ma'am," he said, his tone stern but polite. He offered his arm as if he really didn't want to. Interesting. Had you read his file wrong? He'd been out here alone far longer than he should've been allowed to be. The prospect of bare fingertips brushing the back of his hand should've had him quivering in anticipation. You'd heard of others having to actually stun-stop their Pathfinders at their initial meeting. It had never happened to you but… It was part of your training to know it could. But clearly not here, not today. You'd worn your gloves, just in case. You stepped out of the shuttle with your lone rucksack in one hand and put the other on the sleeve of his forearm, letting him assist you down as if you were royalty. Your dead implant flared in the back of your brain despite the double barrier of fabric between you. He was shielding hard but this was what you did, what you were, and wisps of emotions were leaking through. He was… anxious. "Welcome to Heleus," he said, adding your title and last name. You thought about correcting him with your first name but sensed he preferred the formality so merely said, "Thank you." He broke contact as soon as politeness allowed, folding his hands behind his back. "I'm afraid I can't give you a tour right now, I have duties to attend to. But Sam can guide you to your room, give you the lay of the land. Most of the station is still in shutdown but he'll turn the lights on for you if you'd like to look around." "Ah, all right then," you said but you were saying it to the crisp, neatly-pressed back of his black and red uniform as he gave a quick nod and strode away. You were supposed to be ready for anything but you decided to allow yourself a short but heartfelt thought of What in the actual hell? Then you tucked it away and went looking for Sam. Maybe he would be glad to see you? It would be nice if someone was.

Alec Ryder for visual reference. 😎 Andromeda has a LOT of character types that I love but this particular idea felt like it paired SO nicely with Mr. Emotionally Repressed Pathfinder Sr. so I, um, yoinked him out of canon and, you know, repurposed him. As one does. 😐😂

#halo the series #halo paramount +#x reader #last line tag game #apologies for tagging x reader stuff with the fandoms #if you don't like x reader fics then please skip this post #i'm also not tagging for mass effect andromeda directly because this isn't meant as a fic for it #i didn't want to give the wrong impression #ageless aislynn #ais is writing

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kiirschtein-archive · 1 year

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⋆ 「 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬. 」 ⋆

about me. — i’m dahlia! i’m a cishet white woman in my twenties (lmao so exciting, right? /s). i work full-time so i don’t always have as much energy as i would like, but i still love being here!

this is a sideblog, so i follow and interact from @laserbrains, my main/star wars writing blog.

dni & byf. — minors, ED blogs, terfs, transphobes/any lgbtphobe, racists, sexists. i will not follow individuals who do not tag/warn for certain topics that bother me personally. also, please do not trauma dump on me.

nsfw. — since i am an adult and often post nsfw content, this blog is meant for those 18+ only, and anyone who does not have an indication of their age on their blog will be blocked. since nsfw content is so frequent here, i don’t have a specific tag for it for filtering purposes, so please follow at your own discretion. all written persons are also 18+

dark content. — i will likely engage with and even create content with darker themes from time to time. these works (and all of my works in general) will be marked appropriately with warnings. i try to be as thorough as i can but i may occasionally miss something, so please feel free to politely let me know if i’ve accidentally left something out!

aged up characters. — i will engage with and likely create content in which some characters are aged up. i would advise you not to follow if this is something that bothers you.

descriptors. — i try to write gender-neutral reader as often as possible. certain nsfw scenarios will usually cater to an afab audience, and occasionally strictly fem!reader. i also usually do my absolute best to refrain from using any descriptors of reader in my work, at least outside of anything necessary to establish a certain setting/au/etc. if anything happens to deviate from this, it will be tagged to the best of my ability.

requests. — i will write headcanons, blurbs/drabbles, and occasionally full fics when requests are open, but the more intensive the piece, the longer it will probably take. but overall it will depend on my level of motivation and energy; i will do my best to fulfill them within my limits. however, i certainly can’t guarantee getting to everything. please don’t take it personally if i don’t get around to something in particular. sometimes things just don’t click, and my adhd (alongside other mental afflictions) also sort of runs the circus that is my brain lol

do not repost. — i do not consent to the reposting of my works here or on any other platform.

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆:

attack on titan. — jean kirschtein, armin arlert, eren jaeger, levi ackerman, reiner braun, connie springer, erwin smith, bertholdt hoover

jujutsu kaisen. — satoru gojo, yuta okkotsu, toji fushiguro, megumi fushiguro, suguru geto, kento nanami, yuji itadori, ryomen sukuna, toge inumaki, choso

obey me! — lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor, diavolo, barbatos, solomon, simeon

buddy daddies. — kazuki kurusu, rei suwa

content i’m okay with. — age play, anal, begging, biting/scratching/marking, blindfolding/sensory play, bondage/restraints, breeding kink, choking/breath play, cockwarming, collaring, cnc, corruption, cum play, dacryphilia, daddy kink, degradation/humiliation, dirty talk, discipline/brat taming, dubcon, dumbification, edging/denial/neglect, exhibitionism, fingering, gangbanging, hair-pulling, hate sex, impact play, intercrural, masturbation, mommy kink, noncon, oral sex, overstimulation/forced orgasms, pain play, pegging, praise, pregnancy, public sex, sex pollen, somnophilia, squirting, stepcest, switching/role reversal, thigh riding, threesomes/group sex, voyeurism

content no-go’s. — self-harm/suicide, eating disorders, pedophilia, omegaverse, scat/piss, vore, heavy pet-play. drug use is on thin ice; it depends on the situation. same with some stalking/obsession themes. other things may be added/changed in the future.

side note. — i feel like this should go without saying, but fiction is separate from real life and i do not promote/condone all themes in works that i create or interact with.

#guidelines.

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whumpfessional · 1 year

Text

Whumptober prompts 14 (failed escape), 17 (stress positions), 20 (going into shock), 21 (coughing up blood), 26 (separated), 29 (defiance), 30 (manhandled)

Cly and Jason got kidnapped by a cult part ?

Just dumping this here, should take care of a bunch of prompts. Also going to post more of this in chronological order because the ending is just A+.

I also just looked up the whumptober how to tag things and I've been doing it all wrong. Don't think I'm going to correct myself too much because this is just for me.

CW: magic cultist, dislocated hands, getting beaten, carved up, hanging by the hands, cold water torture, disassociation, being kidnapped

Jason watched Cly struggle against her bonds for a moment before gritting his teeth and focusing on the small purchase found in his cuffs, raising up his hands and bringing them down hard several times to dislocate his thumbs. A slight crunch is heard and acutely felt in his left hand and he grunted quietly in pain, twisting that hand around to try and work it out.

Cly looked up with shock, eyes wide. Oh shit, she mouthed at him from across the room. She looked down at his hands then up at his face. Can you do it? she asked silently.

He looked back, eyes watering from the pain of his endeavour, and squeezed them shut. Taking a deep breath in he yanks his hand and twists. A small pop is heard and he softly cries out before biting down on his cheek as the hand is pulled free. He collapses back on the wall and nods back, feeling blood fill his mouth.

Admiration breaks out across Cly’s face and she begins to twist with renewed energy. “Okay, plan time,” she hisses across the room to him, “I’ll distract them and you take them down from behind. Try to find something sharp for my ties on the after you knock them down . Okay?”

Jason spat out some blood onto his now free hand and lubricates his right cuff, his thumb hanging limp. “Okay.” He whispered, working away at the right hand. It takes several agonizing moments of yanking and rotating but the hand comes loose with another click followed by his stifled yelps. He looked down at his hands in surprise, then at Cly.

“Yes!” Cly hissed, looking wildly at the door, though her face blanches when she hears boot steps begin to click down the call. She gave him a look of determination before lying back, the picture of defeat.

The door clicked open once again and Hawk steps in. Cly kicked out with her legs, grabbing her attention.

“What the fuck is this? Fucking mind games with this water bullshit!” Cly yelled, Hawk attention turning to look down at her.

Hawk stepped forward with a grin, bending down to Cly’s face level.

Jason lunged forward and wrapped his arm in a choke hold around her neck. He squeezed, trying to jerk back with her. Hawk was jerked off balance and fell back onto Jason, struggling in his hold. Jason managed to hold tightly, despite the pain shooting up his arms from his thumbs.

Slam! Jason was thrown backwards by a massive force erupting between him and Hawk. His head smacked back against the wall and he found himself sliding back down, legs unable to find purchase under him.

Exploding from Hawk’s back was the same darkness that Jason saw before, now roiling and twisting, lunging for him against the wall.

The smoky darkness engulfed him, pushing him up the wall so that his feet dangled a foot off the floor. He’s locked in, the darkness solid and freezing against his skin.

“Jay!”, screamed Cly, only seeing Jason being lifted off the ground and held in place.

Hawk rubbed her throat slightly to where Jason was held off the ground, a furious expression but one that belayed a sense of curiosity. A dangerous curiosity.

It seemed to Jason that she reached through the darkness that pressed itself against him, grabbing him by the thumb and pulling it upwards towards her.

Pain shot up Jason’s arm as the weight of his hand pulled down on the dislocated joint. She drew it close, inspecting it then let out a little chuckle, a surprised look on her face.

“Looks like I underestimated you,” Hawk appraised, dropping the hand down. Another bolt of pain shot up his arm as it thudded against the wall. The darkness continued to press him inwards, continuing to roil against him. “Did she tell you how to do this? Or did you figure it out yourself?”

Jason seized and shook, struggling to make out his answer. “Your….mom….told me..”

Hawk was silent for a moment, while Cly let out a bark of laughter. The cultist swung around quickly, slamming her fist into Cly’s face and knocking her backwards. She twisted back around to Jason, snarl transforming into a harsh grin on her face. Her hand gripped his throat tightly, reaching through the shadow to clamp down on him.

“Oh, you want to have some fun. Okay, then we are going to have fun.” Hawk pulled out a zip tie from her belt. Pushing back her robe to get it, Jason was able to see a large dagger strapped on in addition to a cudgel. The darkness help him firmly as she pulled his hands together, zipping them together tightly.

Hawk called out into the hallway and the young man from before as well as another who may have been his brother stepped in. The darkness was fading at this point but it didn’t matter as the two of them lifted him off the ground.

Cly had pushed herself up, her nose bleeding slightly onto her upper lip. “What are you doing? You know it was my idea! Let him go.” She hissed, letting the blood fall into her mouth.

Hawk gave her look back over her shoulder as she stepped out of the room, the others following behind. “Oh Cly, you know he has to learn a lesson.” She called out.

“Jason!” Cly called from the room, trying to pull out from the ties. They had began to cut in deeply from all of her pulling but she continued anyways. “Ja-“ The door slammed shut behind the two men, dragging Jason between them.

He was brought to a room just a few doors down. Similar, bright fluorescent lights. Drain in the middle of the floor. Though in this one there was installed a chain hanging from the ceiling with a set of manacles dangling from it. Jason’s arms were ripped upwards and locked in, the zip tie being cut roughly once they were clamped into place. The pain shot down into his elbows from his thumbs and the manacles were locked too tightly to allow him to slip.

Jason stood on his own for a moment before Hawk entered into the room, looking him up and down slowly. “You seem to still think we are playing a game here,” she began, stepping closer to him. Her hand slipped towards her belt as she spoke. “You don’t seem to be that scared yet. Part of me wanted to admire you for being brave.” Hawk’s other hand shot up, grabbing onto his chin. “Now I realize that you are just that stupid.”

Jason spat before realizing he’s doing so. “Guess I am.” He sniped, “if it makes your job harder.”

Hawk froze, then slowly reached up and wiped the spit away with her robed sleeve. She stepped back slightly, face still frozen, then gave the two men a nod from where they had stepped off.

It was a brutal beating, nothing short of that. Jason experienced a moment of terror when he began to choke on some blood but the next blow to the stomach caused him to cough it back up.

There was nowhere to hide his body, exposed from all sides. Eventually, his legs gave up as a foot slammed into the side of his knee and his body weight fell onto his wrists. There was a pause for a moment as Jason shuddered, hanging there. His eyes half closed, shock rippled through his shoulders as a hand wrenched up his face from where it hung.

“All that, and I didn’t lift a finger.” Hawk spoke calmly from across the room, one of the young men gripping onto his face. “Think how much worse it could get, Jason. Even still,” she began to walk forwards, her dagger resting lightly in her hands, “think how much worse it will get. That was just for the spit. There are many more lessons you need to learn today.”

It’s almost morning. Make it to morning.

He chanted his old mantra over and over in his head out of habit as the beating reached its zenith, returning to his body only when his face was grabbed again.

Jason coughed and slowly cracks his eyes open, staring back. “Very...Saw III” he croaks, a painful smile inching onto his face. “Hm, you know what? I think I feel myself getting...stupider.” He drilled his eyes into hers, focusing on his hatred to mask the fear and pain. Make it to morning, He orders himself.

Hawk just cocked her head to the side, relaxed grin on her face. “Where do you go, when you aren’t here?” She asked as she stepped into his space and began roughly cutting off the front of his shirt. The knife slipped across his skin, threatening to break through a couple times. The front hung open and she dug the knife through the material of the shoulder. Her breath tickled his ear as she leaned in, “Where do you run away to hide in there?” She tore the knife backwards, tattered shirt now hanging from just one shoulder.

Jason grit his teeth and yelled from the back of his throat, jolting slightly toward her in blind anger and slipping. He fell heavily back, suspended by the wrists and lets out a quiet moan in agony as his hands tug on the manacles.

Hawk gave his face a little pat, stepping back slightly to take a look. Her thumb pressed into a large bruise forming on his rib cage, digging in between the bones. She gave another nod to one of the men and they pressed a button on the wall, causing the chain to lift further off the ground, dragging Jason’s feet up so that just his toes touched the ground. The arms being dragged upwards pushed pressure onto his chest, making it harder to breathe.

“Remember Jason, you aren’t powerless here. You always have a choice to make things easier for yourself,” Hawk stepped forward with the dagger, drawing a straight line down his pectoral. The muscle, already stretched, burned around the cut. “I’m not asking questions today. Today is for you learning an important lesson.” She added a horizontal slash beside it the other cut and then quickly another one downwards, forming an “H”. “But when I start asking questions,” she held the dagger up to his check for a moment, digging it slightly inwards just enough for a pinprick of blood to form at the tip, “it can go two ways and how it goes is entirely in your power.”

Hawk began dragging the knife down again, starting to form a capital “A”. “Stay with me there,” her eyes made contact with his, pulling him back from where ever he had gone off too. “If you don’t stay with me, I’m going to have to make you stay with me.” The threat was clear in her voice. She pulled back when she finished the first two letters, watching his muscles twitch under the strain.

“Hmm, you’re looking a little messy. And not fully here. Jonah?” A hiss of water started from behind Jason and before he could prepare for it, an icy blast of water slammed into his back, causing him to spin around in the manacles, loosing his balance. The blast slammed into his face, water shooting up his nose and into his throat, choking him. He tried to twist away but there was no where to hide as the water sliced at him. Agony spiked up his body as the blast landed on the letters Hawk had started to carve and he let loose a scream, losing his hold on his voice. The floor no longer held any purchase for his feet and he struggled to breath as he hung from wrenched arms, head flopped forward. Cold water dripped from his hair onto his cheeks as he hung there for a moment.

A rough hand yanked into his hair, pulling his head back. Hawk stood before him, dagger still held gently in hand. “How are you hanging in there? I don’t want you to pass out on me just yet.” She asked gently, tilting her head up to look into his eyes.

Jason dangled and looked back, glassy eyed. The only sound coming from him was a weak humming of a simple tune from somewhere inside his chest.

“Hmm,” Hawk looked disappointed, “thought you had more in you than that. I guess we can just continue another day then.” She gave his face a gentle pat, “it’s no fun if you aren’t going to give me anything. Let me just finish this off now, I hate to leave a project uncompleted.” The blade work was quick, though there were parts where Jason could feel it pressing in, Hawk watching his face for twitches of movement.

“I wish I could see your face when you start to come back to this.” Hawk stepped back for a final time, appreciating her work. “I think you’ve definitely made a lot of progress today, Jason. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” She left then, turning and walking down the hallway, boots clicking steadily away.

As she leaves he blinked hard, his eyes clearing before sliding back into emptiness.

#whumptober2022 #whumptober prompt 14 #whumptober prompt 17 #whumptober prompt 20 #whumptober prompt 21 #whumptober prompt 26 #whumptober prompt 29 #whumptober prompt 30 #Cly #Jason #Blue and Green #kidnapping #whump #stress position #dislocation #dissacociation

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silversatoru · 3 years

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Hello! I wanted to request for a chubby reader x Levi oneshot. I feel like there aren’t many stories that have chubby readers ): As for the storyline, I’m not sure if it falls in the angst or hurt/comfort category. It would be the reader feeling insecure about themselves because they have a harder time training than the others (them blaming it on their own weight) and seeing how everyone is much thinner than them, they start avoiding food. To not make it look suspicious, they’d go into the kitchen alone and put the food away along with the left overs. The reader would act normal with Levi and he doesn’t suspect anything at first. Later on, the reader would push themselves harder to the point where they’d train on their own whenever they had to chance so they can lose weight and improve their training. At this point, Levi starts noticing the reader looking paler than usual and the slight difference in their weight. One day during training, the reader ends up fainting from exhaustion and dehydration. They wake up on Levis’s bed with him looking over them. He asks what happened and the reader lies by saying they didn’t drink enough water. Levi calls it bs and ask if they think he’s stupid and goes on to tell them about how they noticed the reader sneaking off into the kitchen with a plate and coming out without it. He didn’t think anything of it at first, but he started putting the pieces together. They end up telling Levi the truth, the way they feel towards themself and how they don’t like the fact that they’re bigger than Levi. He comforts the reader and lets them know that they’re an idiot for thinking that way, etc. Thank you! I’m so sorry if it sounds so cheesy!

hello dear!! i dont think your idea was cheesy at all, i love it actually. these kind of issues live very close to my heart, so writing about them is always really fun for me. that being said,, this fic definitely got very dark and very real, and i would advise everyone to read the warnings before deciding to read this <33

empty

levi ackerman x gn!reader

synopsis: levi catches you skipping meals and does what he can to help

tags/warnings: eating disorder, skipping meals, hurt/comfort, but it does have a happy ending!

word count: 2.2k

Throbbing headaches and hollow, gnawing pains in your stomach — they’ve quickly become your new normal. You see everything through a hazy fog these days, nothing feels real and everything hurts but it’s worth it — that’s what you keep saying to yourself. You’re tired of lacking the same agility, momentum, and grace that your thinner counterparts have.

Your weight was always something that ate away at the back of your head, but joining the scout regiment multiplied it tenfold. You were constantly working twice as hard as your fellow scouts, and it seemed like it was never enough. Everyone around you was not only ridiculously athletic, but so fucking thin. You didn’t hate your comrades for their bodies and the way they were born, but you made up for it by inflicting all of the hate onto yourself.

You wonder if anyone notices your zombie eyes or the abnormal paleness to your face — god, you hope they don’t. The last thing you want to do is have to confront your feelings and admit what you’ve been doing lately. Every night you shamefully sneak back into the kitchen and pour your plate of food into the large pot of leftovers. You pick at food here and there when your friends are watching, but behind closed doors you haven’t eaten much of anything lately. Your body is running on empty, and it’s only a matter of time before it fully catches up to you.

You hear your last name echo from across the training fields, slowly turning around to see an angry captain sulking towards you. His face was twisted into an unpleasant grimace, his eyebrows knitted together into what almost looked like concern.

“I’m excusing you from the remainder of training, leave,” his words were flat, but there was a subtle emotional edge.

“Sorry, what?” you gave him a confused look — Captain Levi never excused anyone from training, not unless they were practically on their deathbed.

“Go home, and eat a big dinner tonight, your energy has been less than adequate lately,” his face softened slightly, “I expect you to be back to normal by tomorrow. Your skills and abilities are needed here, so go get some rest and be better tomorrow, yeah?”

“But, I-,” you stammered, trying to come up with some kind of valid excuse.

“That’s an order, cadet”.

His words surprised you, and before you could even rack your brain for an appropriate way to respond, he was turned on his heels and walking away. You swallowed thickly, your throat dry and stuffed full with anxiety.

Reluctantly, you followed his orders and made your way back to the Scout’s base early. You grabbed a stack of fresh clothing from your room before heading to the showers and scrubbing yourself free of all the sweat and grime from training. You were careful to avoid mirrors when you navigated bathrooms, and tonight was no exception, your eyes glued to the tiled floor. After showering, you hesitantly walked to the kitchen, preparing a plate of food and bringing it back to your room.

That food stared you in the eyes for hours, taunting you and teasing you and making intense nausea creep up your spine. Tears were stinging the backs of your eyes and your lungs were shaking with heavy, anxiety-filled breaths. You couldn't do it, and you were overwhelmed with shame and guilt. If you couldn’t do it for Levi, you were hopeless that you’d be able to do it for anyone, never mind for yourself.

After making countless pitiful attempts to take a bite of your untouched meal, you decided it was going back into the leftover pot — just like everything else. The other scouts should have returned and been sleeping by now anyway, you’d just silently creep down the hallway, dump the food, and creep back, no harm no foul.

Except for that a certain short, dark-haired captain was standing at the end of the hallway — you didn't notice him, but he certainly noticed you. A boiling anger rippled up inside him as he felt an overwhelming disappointment in your actions. He’d been suspecting this kind of behavior for a while now, but watching you tip-toe down the hall and into the kitchen with an uneaten plate of food confirmed all of his suspicions.

You could barely crawl out of bed the next morning, your ribs aching and your head pounding with a dull pain. You grasped at your tall dresser, catching your balance as you dangerously swayed back and forth for a few seconds. After regaining consciousness and stability you carefully changed into your uniform, having to stop and take breaks every few seconds because you were running out of breath. Your body felt utterly devoid of any kind of energy, and you wondered — when was the last time I actually ate something?

It was far enough back that you couldn’t quite remember, maybe a few days at this point, you really weren’t sure anymore. You’d have to suck it up for training though, because the last thing you wanted was to be confronted by the captain again.

You chugged back a full glass of water before lacing up your boots and throwing on a convincing facade. People don’t seem to notice something is wrong as long as you're smiling, laughing, and going along with what they say — it’s easy enough to fly under the radar of your fellow scouts.

Levi’s radar is a little sharper though, and he keeps a close eye on you from the second you walk up to the training grounds. He’s disappointed in your hand to hand combat — it’s sloppy, slow, predictable. Your hands look shaky too, and maybe it's the light playing tricks on him but it looks like the color is draining from your face.

Things are feeling deplorable on your side — you can barely stand anymore, never mind throw punches or avoid the oncoming attacks. Your vision was starting to tunnel, foggy black surrounding your periphery as you began to lose feeling in your fingertips. You tried desperately to cling onto whatever semblance of consciousness you had left, but failed miserably, your body collapsing to the hard earth beneath you.

The soft glow of warm candles illuminated the walls around you when you finally woke up from the earlier incident. This wasn’t your room, where the hell were you? You uncomfortably shifted to the side and flinched when you saw your captain sitting in a chair in front of you. His arms were crossed and one of his legs was propped on top of the other, an icey look in his eyes.

“What happened today?” His words were very short and his tone was flooded with irritation — he didn’t even give you a chance to take in your surroundings.

“Ah- I didn’t sleep well last night,” you lied, “And maybe I haven’t been drinking enough water or something”.

“I’m offended that you think I would fall for such a pitiful lie,” He clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, “I saw you sneak into the kitchen last night, how long have you been doing that?”

Your eyes grew wide with anxiety, your heart abruptly dropping to the floor — you made sure to go extra late last night, why the hell was he still up?

You stayed quiet for a moment, pondering over how honest you should be with Levi right now. The two of you had always been a little closer than he was with the other scouts, but unfortunately there was no room for things like love in this world. You also assumed that maybe he never reciprocated your feelings because of your weight — but that was just more toxic fuel to the fire blossoming in your head.

“Pretty long,” you sighed, ultimately deciding to be fully honest with him, because knowing Levi, he’d continue to see right through your lies anyway.

“I figured,” He grumbled, uncrossing his legs and leaning back into his chair, “Why?”

“Everyone around me is thin, I stick out. And, I’m not as agile or flexible as the other scouts either. I just thought that maybe...,” you bit down hard on your bottom lip, rolling onto your back so you wouldn’t have to look at him, “I thought my weight bothered you too, and also that I’d be more useful to the scouts if I was skinnier”.

“You think I’d like you better if you were dead?” Levi was leaning closer now, heat boiling in his eyes, “Because that’s where you’re headed right now. If you truly think you’ll be more helpful to the scouts when you’re six feet under, you’re delusional. And who the hell gave you the idea that your weight bothered me?”

His harsh words were cold slap in the face, your eyes burning and threatening to spill over with tears. You didn’t want to die, not really, you just didn’t want to hate yourself anymore.

“No one! I don’t know, I just thought, maybe because I was bigger than you-,” You continued to stammer over your words, tears beginning to leak down your cheeks.

“It doesn’t matter,” he waved you off, not wanting to push the issue further, “You’re wrong, and I’m hurt that you’d even think that. I’ve never once thought that you were anything other than the way you should be”.

“I’m sorry,” your voice was weak and shaky, but your heart was pounding against your chest at his words.

“I’m not the person you should be apologizing to, that’s something you owe to yourself” he shook his head and stood up to retrieve two small bowls of food from a nearby table, “I brought you something to eat”.

You watched him intently, pondering over his words about apologizing to yourself.

“It’s only a bowl of soup, so you can start small, yeah?” He offered one of the bowls to you, which you hesitantly took into your hands as you sat up.

He sat down again across from you again, leaning back and taking a sip of broth from his bowl. You were grateful that he was here, that he was eating with you — it made things a little easier. You grasped the spoon in your hands and scooped up some brothy vegetables before lifting them into your mouth.

“Good, finish the bowl,” nodded at you, giving you a reassuring look and lifting his own bowl to his lips again.

The two of you ate in silence until you were finished, and then he sat the bowls back on his nightstand before finding a seat next to you on his bed.

“Stay here tonight,” he stared at you with his signature tired eyes, but there were hints of concern laced through them now, “We’ll have breakfast together in the morning”.

“Okay,” you gave him a weak nod, trying desperately to bottle up your growing emotions, but they were becoming too much to bear.

Small sobs began to rack through your body, your chest tightening and your stomach lurching with anxiety. You were experiencing so many feelings tonight — eating for the first time in days and being here with Levi, it was overwhelming to say the least.

You could barely see the captain through your blurry vision, but you could feel his arms maneuver themselves around you and pull you against his chest. You stayed like that for a while, Levi’s arms delicately holding you in place while quiet sobs worked their way out of your lips.

“You’ve dug yourself into a deep hole, I won’t lie to you,” you heard him let out a tired sigh, “And it’s gonna take time and effort for you to dig your way out, but you’ll get there. We’ll start by having breakfast and dinner together every night, how does that sound? Just you and me, no one else has to watch”.

You nuzzled a tiny nod into his chest, your tears finally running dry. It was a terrifying thought, eating normal again, but you were starting to feel hopeful that you might actually be able to do it.

And so the two of you met every morning and every evening for your scheduled meals, and day by day things began to get easier. You even found yourself staying over in Levi’s room after dinner and into the morning for breakfast sometimes. Spending so much time together was definitely pushing the two of you to address the feelings you’d been hiding for so long.

But not everything was perfect, it would be irrational to think it would be. You still have bad nights, where eating is so hard you break down into tears, and where you want nothing more than to rid yourself of the food in your system. It’s a draining process, but Levi works hard to make sure you stay on track with your progress.

It’s slow, but eventually your face starts to glow again, your skin gets smooth and soft, and the aching pains in your body start to fade. Your war with your body is far from over, but you’re doing what you can, and you’re healing yourself one day at a time.

thank u for reading this, and now i would like to give you a gentle reminder to do something nice for your body today. eating disorders and mental illnesses are huge mountains to climb over, but taking things one day at a time makes it a little easier. try and eat a meal today (even if it’s small), go to sleep early and get some rest, take a shower and rub lotion all over your legs so they feel nice against your blankets when you lay in bed. baby steps are better than no steps at all, so be patient with yourself. n go drink some water, ur body loves that shit

#attack on titan #attack on titan levi #attack on titan x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x gn!reader #hurt/comfort #angst #levi hurt comfort #attack on titan x gn!reader

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frogsmulder · 3 years

Text

It’s the Little Things

This hc: after a long case, Scully takes a bath and snuggles up next to Mulder, her damp hair leaving little patches on his t shirt; about 900 words; rated t; tagging @today-in-fic also @inuendo-outuendo who wanted to see the fic and @emily--sim for the inspiration, thanks!

ao3

Scully turns the key in the door to her apartment just gone midnight. With the lights off, it's eerily cold and lonely; deathly quiet. She flicks the lights on and it's now too bright. Sighing, she is conscious of the clatter she is now making, stumbling in, dragging a suitcase behind her. She dumps it somewhere near the couch and heads straight for the bathroom. Mulder groans as he follows her in, clumsily kicking the door shut whilst maneuvering his bag in too.

Mulder smiles as he watches her disappear behind the bathroom door. He picks up her suitcase too and moves them to the bedroom, unpacking them. The whole thing is relatively new and it feels blissfully, strangely domestic: knowing all the little nooks in which Scully's possessions belong.

In the bathroom, Scully runs the water hot in the tub, splashing her hands under the tap. Her lips curl up into a smirk as she traces her finger along her shelf of bath salts and oils like a potions counter in an alchemist's shop. Which one to wash away the grime from the latest long case? Lavender oil. Plucking it from the shelf, she hums to herself in satisfaction and swirls some drops in.

She undresses in her bedroom, her jacket slipping over her shoulders and falling to the floor, her blouse and trousers and underwear in quick succession. Gathering them she puts them in the washing basket, huffing a chuckle when two warm hands wrap around her bare waist.

I've ordered Chinese, should be here in half an hour, he whispers behind her ear.

She turns to kiss his lips. Thank you.

Mulder can't help looking and biting his lip as she walks away to her awaiting bath. Scully can feel his admiring stare linger on her and makes a point to turn around in the doorway with a raised eyebrow to keep him in check, although it's an invitation more than anything else. He grins, fast to pull his shirt over his head.

When she slips her toes into the hot water, she forgets the long nights and grueling horrors of the case, she frees herself from the innocents she couldn't save, she detangles from guilt and lets it slick over her.

Room for two?

Hmm, is there? she chuckles teasingly, sliding forward to let him in behind her.

Well, it's more one and a half.

She slaps his leg as he steps in. One of us is so tall he makes up for the other, so mathematically speaking, it is still two.

Hey! No-one likes a math geek, Scully, he laughs. You've gotta learn to love the little things in life.

He makes sure he is settled in behind her, his lanky legs folded up either side of her, his knees protruding the top of the water before he says what he does next. Even if God brings them to you in human form.

Scully, too tired to argue with him rolls her eyes. Since when do you believe in God?

Since the day I first set eyes on you.

You're really corny, you know that, Mulder?

Uh-huh. Although, I prefer the term romantic. He cups handfuls of silky water and pours it over her shoulders. Lean back.

Scully follows his instruction, resting her head against his chest, allowing him to run the water attentively over her arms.

Twenty minutes later, Mulder is rushing in his undershirt, hopping into some jeans, to answer the door, his hair still damp. He tips the guy the remaining twelve cents from a twenty-dollar bill and carries tubs of sweet-and-sours and chow mein to the coffee table in the living room, spreading them across it like a banquet. Scully in her silk pyjamas, comes out of the bedroom toweling her hair but stops in the interest of diving into the first decent meal she's had since breakfast that morning-- now yesterday morning.

Smells good.

So does the food, he quips without missing a beat.

She grabs some cutlery from the kitchen and he turns the television on, voices pouring out a low hum becoming background noise. They sit down together, munching their way through a healthy-sized bag of prawn crackers and letting the mindless numb of the television wash over them. Gradually, Scully finds her head leaning against his chest once more, her stomach full, her heart swelling, and her eyelids drooping. Mulder plays with the tresses of her hair, massaging circles into her scalp, not caring for the little patches slowly growing on his undershirt where the dampness of her hair seeps through.

Half-eaten boxes of takeaway go cold on the coffee table. The television goes dark with the click of the remote. He scoops her up bridal style to carry her across the threshold of her bedroom, although she is not asleep and he can tell by the tightening of her fist around the material of his undershirt and a little contented hum. He lays her down gently over the covers and slips off his jeans. It takes her great energy to fold the duvet back and crawl inside, but once he is in as well, she eagerly wraps herself around him and his warmth. The last thing he feels is the curl of her lips against his back that is her smile.

#xf fanfic #my fic #msr #txf s7 #fluff #Post case canoodles #the x files #fox mulder #dana scully

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blackstarising · 3 years

Text

precipice, a buckysarah fic | also on ao3

bucky and sarah spend saturday mornings together on the wilson's back porch. neither remembers when this became a habit.

She’s awake for a few moments before she hears it, the creaking, through the open window. It’s not loud, of course, it’s never loud, Daddy had dutifully oiled the swing’s joints to make sure that wouldn’t happen, but age had touched it just enough that, nowadays, you’d know if someone was sitting there.

Sarah sits up, and rubs the sleep from her eyes. The thick, summer air fills her lungs, the same that coats her forehead in a sheen of sweat. Lingering tension from melts from her shoulders. Unconsciously, she brushes the dog tags nestled inside of her shirt.

He’s okay. Thank God.

A familiar electric buzz runs up the back of her spine as she pads past the boys’ rooms and tiptoes down the stairs. Months ago, that buzz would have prompted her toss her bonnet onto her bed, to swiftly change into jeans and a somewhat presentable T-shirt, even though Saturday mornings before 8 were, by law, designated as Sarah Time.

And then, three weeks ago, the last time she’d seen him in person, she’d raced down the stairs to get AJ’s stuffed toy (some Minecraft thing? Sarah could never keep track) that he’d accidentally left outside before he woke up, cheesy printed pajamas and all. He hadn’t flinched.

He could fit into Sarah Time, she’d decided, right then and there. Lizzo’s “Cuz I Love You” was left on repeat on her phone for her the rest of the day.

So she slips downstairs, ‘Bad Mama Jama’ shirt and all. Coffee steeps. Two mugs are produced, lactose-free milk dumped into each, and a sizable glop of honey into hers.

After all this time, his breath still catches a little when he sees her come out the back door. The humidity that sticks to Bucky’s skin like a stifling coat makes her skin shimmer in the faint sunlight. She yawns, her nose wrinkling just enough that it’s painfully cute, and then she relaxes, still sleepy but serene as she presses the hot mug into his right hand.

“Hey.” He greets her.

“Hey.” Her smile grows. “You’re back.”

“I am. With cinnamon rolls.” Sure enough, a paper bag rests next to the swing. He pats his left side, and she obliges. Their thighs touch plainly this time.

She takes a slow sip of her coffee. “Hope you haven’t been sitting here all night. Where’s Sam?”

“About an hour, and still in DC. Captain America business, and all that.”

“And what? No Winter Soldier business?”

Bucky shrugs. “I like the quiet.” Her quiet. Or maybe just her and the boys, though the boys weren’t that quiet. And ‘like’ was too weak a word at this point, probably.

She takes another sip of coffee, strangely proud. He does too, if only to silence the annoyingly insistent voice in the back of his head nagging him to just put his arm around her shoulder already.

“Still not sure about this fancy milk, though.”

“You mean milk that me and the kids can actually digest?” Sarah knows damn well he can’t taste the difference. “Well, I have bad news for you about oat milk. And soy milk." She grins wickedly. "And don't forget rice milk-”

“None of which belong in coffee.” After nearly a century of identities and missions she’s not sure if she ever wants to hear about, his Brooklyn accent is faint, but he still stretches out the caw in ‘coffee’. How mortifying it is, the way she perks up when that grit bleeds out.

He brushes the bright blue hem of her bonnet. “Is this new?”

She shakes her head and pulls it off. Dark braids tumble down her shoulders. These ones are new, he notices - they’re tighter at the root, and shimmer with oil that smells of roses. “Found out AJ stuffed it in the couch cushions a month ago. I just happened to stick my hand down there yesterday. I do not know what it is about him and that damn couch.” She snickers. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and find a signed check for a million dollars down there one day.”

He chuckles, and gives the ground a little kick the start the swing going again. “Did he get his new glasses yet? Last time I was here, he was saying that he didn’t want to see the optometrist again.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like the...” Sarah makes a motion with a finger, like she’s pressing a button. “There’s a little gun they use. They blow a puff of air onto your eyeball.”

Bucky recoils a little. “They what?”

“It’s supposed to measure it for the prescription. They tried to do it on me before they did his. I thought it was supposed to be just like a little breeze, but it bounces off your eye.” She pauses and scratches her head. “I may have hollered-”

“Ha! I bet he took that well.”

“I had to get him on my lap to calm down.” She sighs and pouts, just a little. “At least he still wants to be held. Cass makes me drop him off a block away from school now.”

Cass is indeed growing. Overnight, he’s shot up like a reed so that he’s just as high as Bucky’s shoulders. His normally smooth skin is interrupted by a few bumps, and his voice bounces around in pitch like an untuned clarinet. Something in his chest twinges when he considers it, how time marches forward. How, very soon, the collective wide-eyed innocence of the boys will harden into adulthood.

Her gaze falls to his left hand. The fingers curl and flex. She still remembers the first time she’d looked at his arm, really looked at it, the dark plates molding and shifting. It’d been the second time they’d shared this same porch, waiting for Sam to bring back the boys from fishing.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Sarah, he’d said suddenly, catching her gaze. His voice had been heavy, but clear. Dark blue eyes filled with regret. I’ve hurt people. Killed people. I didn’t have a choice, but, with you and- here, she’d held her breath as his Adam’s apple bobbed, how quickly he’d blinked - and the boys, I...I don’t want- I need you to know all of me. Who I’ve been. Who I am. And then you can decide. But you can’t do that if I’m not honest.

She doesn’t remember what she’d said after. She does remember watching him get into the truck so Sam could take him to the airport. How he’d paused when he’d opened the door, and turned towards her, eyes wide. Vulnerable. How she’d smiled at him, and waved, maybe a bit too cheesily, like it’d been the easiest thing in the world, because despite it all, oddly, she hadn’t been afraid. How the widest grin had broken out on his face and something deep inside her chest that had been closed had burst open for the first time since she’d lost Andrew. And she remembers watching the truck pull out of the drive as her heart filled to such a capacity that her chest hurt, and the second they’d disappeared over the hill she’d promptly burst into tears, well, really, half laughing and half sobbing, because how the hell was she supposed to know she could find that feeling again?

It’s only when she sees his jaw clench that she finally notices the cut, long and fading pink against his chiseled cheekbones. Maybe she’s getting too used to them - he’s always injured in some way when he gets back.

He can see that familiar softening in her eyes as she catches sight of the gash. Well, it had been a gash just an hour before, the result of catching a thrown knife on his cheek before he’d caught the hilt. But what’s about to happen next will play like clockwork.

First, she’s going to try to get a closer look. Her index and pointer finger come up just under his chin, tilting his head to the side. His skin tingles, the electricity of her concern rushing through him.

Then, she’ll hum. She’s never chastised him, though he wouldn’t know what there’d be to say if she tried. But that hum says more than enough.

“Hmm.”

In the moment, she doesn’t feel herself cupping his face with both hands, it just sort of happens. Her throat dries instantly as the stubble brushes in her palms.

He can’t breathe, but every single muscle in his body relaxes. He sinks into her touch.

“Y- you should see the other guy,” he manages to get out. There’s a faint memory that breaks to the surface, the docks in New York, 1940-something, 1943? A date whose name has been lost to time, the last date he’d ever go on. Soft hands cupping his face, just like this, and warm, pleading ruby-red lips crashing dully into his, a whisper to not forget her.

Sarah’s tongue darts between her lips. Both thumbs rub small circles into his cheeks. It wasn’t a question of if he wanted to kiss her, no. When has a day gone by that he hasn’t thought of kissing her? How is it that it’s never happened, but he can see it, clear as crystal, and hold it in his mind’s eye. How can he already feel her warm and flush and present and breathless and real against him?

Very slowly, she comes back to herself, and her face immediately flushes with a sharper heat. Her hands awkwardly drop from his face. She tries to think of something, anything, to interrupt the silence (to explain herself?), but every word that comes to mind sticks helplessly in her throat and she just can’t stand it because she’s the same, she’s exactly the same as she’d been at 17, leg jiggling and sweating and staring a hole right through the back of Andrew’s head in AP Calculus.

(She’d never wanted to punch Sam so bad back then when he’d had the audacity to say well, just tell him, already. The audacity of him, to think things were so simple.)

She leans back, scooting just a hair away this time. The crest of the sun beams through the trees, painfully bright. Her pulse is louder now. She’s looking at the small grove so intently she doesn’t even register the weight gently settle on her left shoulder at first. It only clicks when she feels the cool metal of his thumb brush up and down her bicep. Their eyes lock, brown against against blue.

He’s still smiling, and she, she realizes, is too.

So she melts into him. She melts into him, her ear landing over his chest, her arm wrapping around the small of his back. She sighs into the muted whoosh whoosh whoosh of his heartbeat, the cotton of his shirt, and the faint smell of spearmint on his breath. Another kick of her foot and they’re swinging yet again, back and forth, back and forth. The sun pulls itself up ever higher and higher.

The light starts to burn his cheek. “The boys’ll be up soon,” he murmurs into her hair.

She snuggles deeper into him. “Mmm.”

They’re on the precipice of something, this, they both know. They're inching closer and closer, and one day they’ll step off, and she’ll kiss him full on the mouth and whenever he’ll come back to the house he’ll be coming back home and whenever they go anywhere they’ll stick each others hand in their back pockets in that particular way that teenagers do that let everyone know that they’re each others and there’s nothing they can do about it.

One day. But for now, this is more than enough.

They like the quiet.

#tfatws #tfatws spoilers #bucky barnes #sarah wilson #buckysarah #bucky x sarah #sarahbucky #sarah x bucky #otp: buckysarah

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applejongho · 3 years

Text

cherry on top | choi jongho

genre: fluff, realistic fiction, humor

character: starbucks employee!jongho

description: Jongho has an interesting run-in with a Karen during his shift at Starbucks.

word count: 2k

warnings: mild swearing

author’s note: jongho as a coffee barista was swimming in my mind for quite some time, so here he is.

masterlist here!

There was something about that coffee stain on Jongho's employee shirt that made it impossible to get rid of. It was likely the mix of the ingredients that had stacked the receipt when it was printed, but Jongho couldn't help but feel she had somehow planned this as he scrubbed harder with bleach.

Jongho wouldn't have guessed the day to turn out as it did, but maybe he should have. Working with the public was always a gamble, but Jongho's optimism blinded him. Most customers were nice enough. Most customers gave a smile when he handed them their overpriced coffee. There weren't too many comments about his red and black hair, and he could shrug off all of them. The compliments were what he remembered.

The day started off normally - with Jongho's coworkers nudging him towards the mound of bagged coffee beans. "I could do it myself, but you just do it quicker, you know?" One of his coworkers had whined, twirling a piece of curly hair around her finger. "It" was picking up the bags of coffee beans to put into the grinder, and Jongho didn't mind it. As he slung a bag over his shoulder with ease and glanced at her, he could swear her face flushed. Perhaps it was just the sun. The sun hit her face like that when he broke apples in half with his bare hands too. It was strange how the universe liked her like that.

After his bean tasks, Jongho took to the drive-thru of the coffee shop. He was told he had a nice voice, but he doubted he sounded that heavenly through a cheap speaker that hadn't been changed for five years. Nonetheless, Jongho enjoyed doing the drive-thru and taking orders. When there were multiple drive-thru lanes open, he would challenge his coworkers to see who could get through orders the fastest. This caused him and his coworkers to resent vans - vans almost always meant there was a large order - a sure loss, unless Jongho's fingers could learn to dance very quickly on the ordering screen.

Taking orders via the drive thru took up his morning, and then he was released for his lunch break. His coworkers had become accustomed to bringing him apples for the sole purpose of him to break them. He didn't mind, and it allowed him to be more comfortable with his coworkers because he could sometimes be shy. "Is that why part of your hair is red?" A coworker had asked him one day after he had broken multiple apples in a row. Jongho shook his head.

"No. Just red," he shrugged, ignoring his coworker's eyebrow raise. "I just like the color red." He thought he looked good with it.

But not everyone agreed - there were some customers that liked to point it out, like he had never seen himself in a reflection before. "You missed the roots," an older woman had told him at the register and gestured to his hair. Jongho added fifty cents to her order.

But for this day in particular, his hair was the reason for his downfall. For the latter half of the day, Jongho would be at the register. He yearned to be in the bar making drinks because it could become so mindless at points, but he was placed in front of the register before he could say anything. He assumed it was because he was the longest working employee out of the staff today, and Jongho vaguely remembered a newbie was working with him. He guessed the manager didn't want them at the register. The register wasn't much different than the drive thru, but there was something about actually seeing the customer or touching their cash or credit card that made it not enjoyable for Jongho.

About an hour into working at the register, Karen walked in. Jongho saw her and his stomach dropped. She looked exactly like a Karen should look: bobbed blonde hair with caramel highlights that were too dark, opaque and round sunglasses, an obnoxiously pink phone case, and a tacky red American flag shirt that said something about how America was blessed. Jongho knew he shouldn't judge people so quickly, but he had dealt with this breed of women before. He had to brace himself for the worst and the unexpected.

"Hello, ma'am," he said cheerfully when Karen got to the front of the line. Her dark sunglasses obscured her eyes, but she was clearly paying attention to her phone instead of him. She suddenly realized she was in Starbucks and lifted up her glasses. She took one look at Jongho's name tag.

"Hello, John," she said, and Jongho had to bite his tongue to keep from making a noise.

"Jongho," he said.

"John," she continued, and listed off her order, Jongho begrudgingly typing it in as she spoke. It's not that hard of a name, he thought to himself as he kept typing. Why was Karen's order so long? Jongho kept translating her vegan, dairy-free, blood-of-firstborn, extra-expresso venti iced coffee into the system until she stopped talking, and even then she wasn't done.

"So is everyone your age just dying their hair like that?" Karen said without prologue. "I'd never let my kid dye their hair like that. It's so unprofessional."

"Thank you," Jongho said, dodging the question and not wanting to provoke her. He hoped his cheeks weren't also red. "Here's your total. Cash or credit?"

Karen pulled out her purse, but not without clicking her tongue in annoyance. "You all really should lower the prices. It's too damn expensive."

Then make your own, Jongho wanted to reply, but he held his tongue. "I wish I could," he said with a smile. Karen frowned in return, and, without warning, dumped her entire coin bag onto the counter. Jongho yelped and scrambled to keep flying pennies and quarters from rolling off of the counter. In the corner of his eye, a coworker ogled Karen.

"I used the bills to buy my groceries, so I'll pay in coins," Karen yawned while Jongho threw himself onto the floor to make sure no coins had reached there. He got up, plastering on a fake smile. He hadn't had a customer like this in a long time, but if he could just get through her, everything would be okay. He reached for her quarters first and began counting dollars. He knew for a fact that his manager wouldn't have tolerated this kind of behavior from a customer, but Jongho knew he could be too soft at times. Besides, her jangling keys on her wrist glimmered and showed off their sharpness. He swore he saw her teeth glimmer as well.

"Hurry up," Karen said after a few seconds. "Count faster."

Jongho considered shoving pennies into her eyes. "Certainly," he said, and tried to pick up his pace. He could feel her eyes burning on his neck as he shoved the change into the cash register. He pushed her receipt over to her and eagerly began with the customer behind her, glad to be ridden of her.

But his escape was short lived. He heard a whine from the corner of the store and knew it was the Karen immediately. He was currently helping out a different customer, but there was no one else in line behind them. He'd deal with it after the customer if things escalated with Karen.

"Are you sure you made this correctly?" Karen snarled at Jongho's coworker, her nostrils flailing. The coworker looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. "This doesn't taste like how it usually does. Make it again."

Jongho wouldn't have done anything - customers asked for drinks to be remade frequently. But this was Karen, and upon further inspection, this was the new employee that his manager had talked about. He couldn't leave her hanging, it would be rude as an older and more experienced employee. Jongho finished ringing up the final customer and went over to Karen and the other coworker.

"Cherry head," Karen growled, and Jongho only raised his eyebrows. That was a new one.

"I'll make a new one, ma'am, sorry," he said, taking the drink from her. "I'm sure you were fine," he muttered to the worried coworker and was pleased to see her smile.

Iced coffee wasn't difficult, and with the lack of new customers Jongho took the time to make sure the drink was entirely accurate. It's not that she deserved a drink, it's that he wanted her out of the store as soon as possible. He even had the temperature right, and gave it a perfect dairy-free whipped cream swirl at the top before handing it back to her.

Karen ogled the drink for a moment, looking back and forth at the cup and Jongho. Then she threw the drink at him.

The whipped cream top hit Jongho square in the face and he could taste it. Then came the slow and cold trickle of the coffee down his apron and shirt underneath, and at that moment, he was so glad she hadn't ordered anything hot.

"I said I didn't want whipped cream!" Karen bellowed, but Jongho's choir practice had made him desensitized to loud vocals. He wiped the whipped cream from his face and looked at Karen straight in the eyes.

"Get out," he said coldly. "There's a Dunkin across the parking lot. They can have your coins." He paused for a moment, and then his mouth twitched upward. "My name is John, you can write me up if you want. I don't care."

"I will be," Karen growled, red-faced and clutching her purse at her side like Jongho was going to reach out and nab it. he couldn't believe Karen thought that she was the victim here when Jongho had a new fluffy white beard adorning his face.

"John's right," a third coworker said, coming from behind. He could vaguely hear his laugh under his voice. "We don't tolerate harassment on our employees. You're the one that could end up in trouble."

Karen stared daggers at this new employee, and Jongho was surprised she didn't jump over the counter to tackle him. "Good riddance, I knew Starbucks was going downhill anyway." She gave one last snarl at Jongho, who fluffed up his hair at her glance, before walking out of the Starbucks.

The three employees were silent, and then Jongho felt a towel touch his arm. "Oh my God, Jongho, I'm sorry," the third coworker said.

"I don't think I've ever been drenched quite as much as I am now," he said, accepting the towel. He began to dry himself off as best he could, but he knew his face and clothes were going to be sticky for the remainder of the shift.

"I think there's another apron in the back," the new coworker said, and then scurried off to get it before Jongho could say anything.

"I'm just glad it wasn't her that got absolutely wrecked by coffee," the other coworker murmured. "I think she might have cried."

Jongho nodded, still drying himself off. It was a terrible feeling, the coffee all over his skin and clothes, but now that she was gone, he couldn't help but smile. It was comical, how insane the public could be. "I hope John gets hell for what he did," he smiled.

"Absolutely," the coworker agreed, laughing. The new coworker arrived back with the apron, which Jongho gratefully took.

"Give me a minute to clean up," he told the both of them before going to the back to inspect the wreckage on his clothes and face. It could have been better, but it also could have been worse. He licked a part of the whipped cream that was near his lips and grimaced at the flavor. Despite it all, Jongho was amused at the situation. It kept him on his toes. It would be a funny story to share at a party. Jongho wrote a note in his phone to re-dye his red tips when he got home. Then, smiling, he returned to work.

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ssa-babygirl · 3 years

Text

Out of my League [Part 5]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.1k

Summary: A night out with the team leaves you and Spencer with so much unsaid, despite how much he spills to you while you’re drunk and half asleep.

Warning(s): Mentions of past addiction, alcohol consumption, some swear words, mentions of past bullying, EXTREME PINING

Author’s Note: I told yall this chapter wouldn’t take 10 years. just like... a week and a half. I promise I’ll do better lmao also enjoy the fluff cuz uh,, yall are gonna hate me next chapter oops

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Washington D.C., 2009

(Reader POV)

Rossi’s dinner party would not be the last time Spencer had to drive your drunk ass home. It happened two or three in the two years since that night. Dave meant it when he said you were one of them. Whenever they went out for drinks after a case, you would get a text from one of the girls asking if you wanted to come. Your mom living a few blocks away from you was helpful because you just needed to drop Jamie off and head over to O’Keefe’s. You very rarely went overboard because you normally had to drive home, but tonight was not one of those nights.

The team had just gotten back from a local case in Bethesda, so Emily offered to pick you up on her way back. Hotch gave them all the rest of the night off after they made the arrest, but Spencer, always the workaholic, still wanted to finish up his paperwork before going out.

Your mom came to get Jamie and take him back to her house, so you were free to get all dressed up for a night on the town with your friends. You didn’t want to look too formal since most of them were still going to be in their work clothes, so you got out a cute green button-down blouse and tucked it into some high-waisted jeans. You put on your favorite locket and let your hair down. You went with a light makeup look, just brows, cheeks, and lashes. You were all set by the time Emily pulled up in front of your place. You strapped up your wedges and grabbed your purse, heading out the door, excited to see everyone after they’d been so busy.

“Hey! You look nice!”

“And you’re not so bad for fresh off a crime scene.”

“Should’ve seen me catch the guy, I looked amazing.”

“I’m sure you did, Em.”

Emily told you about the case, or rather just the ending. You only liked to hear her stories when they had happy endings. This one was pleasant enough, but you had a feeling that she was leaving some details out since it was apparently so bad that even Spencer would be tagging along for drinks.

When you got to the bar, Derek and Penelope were already sitting at a booth in the back with Aaron and Dave. Penelope hopped up from her seat to give you a hug as soon as you approached the table.

“Hey, there she is,” Morgan smiled over his beer.

“Reid’s not driving tonight?” Aaron asked.

“He texted me, he’s on his way, he wanted to finish his paperwork back at the precinct.”

“So what I’m hearing is you finally have time to tell us stories about Reid in high school,” Dave said with a smirk.

“No, come on, he’ll kill me,” you settled into the booth.

Emily snorted, “I’d be surprised if he even found it in him to be mad at you.”

“Oh, it’s happened before.” Your face scrunched up at the memory of what happened that day on the football field.

“Really?” Penelope seemed shocked.

“Yeah I’d… Rather not talk about it.” You didn’t know if Spencer had told the team about the Alexa Lisbon incident, so you didn’t want to talk about how he had been so angry with you for babying him.

“Oh, come on, the kid was in love with you,” Derek prodded, “What’d you do?”

You elected to ignore his comment, “No, it was just stupid.” You could still talk about Kyle, though. The team knew the story of how you’d met Spencer, they just didn’t know about how upset he was when he found out you got back together with Kyle just a few months after you dumped him.

“We love hearing about the stupid things you did!” Garcia squealed.

You stared at the table and fiddled with a napkin to avoid eye contact as you said, “I dated one of his bullies.”

Dave was the first to break the silence, “But Reid said you broke up with him when you found out.”

You bit your lip and hesitated before owning up to it, “Did he tell you that Kyle is Jamie’s dad?”

Emily gasped, “No way!”

“We barely spoke outside of tutoring after that between him being scared of Kyle and basketball season. We were both busy with our teams.”

“Reid played basketball?” Aaron asked, amused.

“He was the coach.” You managed to crack a slight smile, “Budget cuts. But, hey, it was for the best, that was our best season in years.”

“Hard to believe he could focus on strategy with you cheering from the sidelines.” Derek wiggled his eyebrows and took another sip of his beer.

You were quick to change the subject, “So is JJ coming?”

Emily shook her head, “She went home after the case cuz she missed Henry.”

“Oh that boy is the sweetest little thing, I miss when Jamie was that little.”

Aaron sipped his whiskey, “How old is he again?”

“Ten. I’m old, don’t remind me, it’s fucking me up.”

“Ah! Language, bella.”

“Sorry Dave. But speaking of getting effed up, I’ll go get the next round.” You stood and took everyone’s drink orders: Dave and Aaron were sharing an expensive bottle that Dave had already paid for, Emily wanted a martini, Derek just asked for another beer, while Penelope ordered the most elaborate cocktail on the menu, but luckily it was her usual, so you had it pretty much memorized by now.

You strolled up to the bar and gave the bartender the order, which he got right on. He started with giving you Derek’s beer, then Em’s martini, then your rum and coke, before getting to work on Penelope’s ridiculously fruity drink. An older man stalked into your field of view with a beer in his hand, grinning dumbly.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

You snorted, “Has that line ever worked?”

“Truth be told, I’ve never used it.”

“Well you don’t have a great success rate right now, bud.” You looked over the man’s shoulder and made eye contact with Penelope, who turned to Derek and gave him a heads up.

“Well let me buy you a drink, maybe it’ll work better the second time around.”

“Oh, no, thank y—”

“No, come on, what’s one drink?”

You grabbed the tray with everyone’s drinks and started to pass him, “I should really get back to my friends.”

“Hey, I won’t keep you long,” He caught you by the arm and the last thing you saw before he turned you to face him again was Penelope leaping up from her seat to let Derek through, “what are you drinking?”

“Babygirl, how long does a beer take?” Derek stepped up behind you and placed a delicate hand on the small of your back, “This guy bothering you, doll?”

The man dropped his hand from your arm, “We were just talking.”

“Really? ‘Cuz to me it seems like you were trying to put the moves on my girl.”

“Babe, it’s fine,” you caught on quickly, placing a hand on Derek’s chest to keep up the ruse of holding him back, “I’m just waiting for Pen’s drink.”

“Get the hell out of here, man.” Derek glares and the other man leaves reluctantly. “You okay?”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

“Hey, no problem, sweetheart.” He withdrew his hand from the small of your back, “Wouldn’t want Pretty Boy to get jealous.”

You felt your face heat up as your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, you can’t seriously tell me you don’t see it.”

You played dumb, “See what?”

He sips his beer, “You don’t need to be a profiler to see the way he looks at you, Y/N.”

“Oh, god, first my mother, now you too?”

“I’m serious, I’ve only seen him like this one other time.”

“When?”

“On a case a few years ago. There was this actress we were helping out, Lila Archer.”

“Lila Archer? The Lila Archer?”

“Yeah, she had a little crush on Reid for a bit. They made out once.”

“They what?”

He laughed, “What’re ya jealous?”

“No!” Maybe? “It just seems so unprofessional, I wouldn’t have pegged him for a guy who would--”

“Hook up with a movie star? Yeah, I didn’t think so either. It didn’t work out with them, obviously, he said she only felt that way about him because he saved her life.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Ever thought about how you protecting him his whole life may have had a similar effect?”

“Showing him basic human decency didn’t make him fall in love with me, Derek.”

“No, but saving his life did.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think that’s more of a question for Pretty Boy himself.” Derek nodded his chin over your shoulder. You followed his gaze and saw Spencer coming up behind you, grinning as he neared the bar.

“Hey.”

“Hey, haircut! Lookin’ good!” Your fingers laced through his shaggy locks and messed up his new boy band-esque style.

A faint blush spread across his cheeks as he fixed his hair, “T-Thanks.”

“When you lovebirds feel like talking to the rest of us, I’ll be at the table with the rest of the team.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to the lanky boy next to you, “Lemme buy you a drink, Spence.”

“Oh, no thank you. I’m driving. And also did you know--��

“You can just say you don’t want it.”

“No, I do. That’s the problem.”

Your face contorted with confusion until it suddenly clicked, “Oh… Has that ever been a problem for you before?”

“Not anymore, and not alcohol, but yeah.”

“Wait, Spence, why didn’t you tell me? I-I’m not mad, it’s your choice, obviously, but I could have helped.”

“You did.”

“I did?”

“Remember that one time I was too sick to talk on our Saturday call?”

“Yeah?”

“I had just gotten back from a case in New Orleans. Remember Ethan from school?”

You nodded, holding onto every word.

“He’s in a jazz band down there now. He talked me into getting help. When you called, I was at the lowest point of withdrawals, shaking so hard I couldn’t sleep, and completely alone. I almost didn’t pick up, but I knew you wouldn’t accept that,” he laughed nervously, “and when I heard your voice…”

He trailed off, finally meeting your eyes.

“When I said I wasn’t feeling well, you said ‘I’m putting Jamie down for the night, wanna hear his bedtime story?’”

You both found yourselves smiling slightly at the memory.

“Not once, during any book I’ve read, had I fallen asleep so easily as I did when you read me The Very Hungry Caterpillar.”

He took a deep breath, almost shuddering, “It was the first time I slept without nightmares since Tobias Hankle.”

You remembered that name. He’d come up in conversations from time to time but you never heard anything about his case. He was always a touchy subject for the team, and now you knew why.

“How long ago was this?”

“Almost three years ago.” He didn’t even have to think about it.

“Spence, you could have told me. You can tell me anything.”

“Anything?” He gulped.

You reached for his hand on the bar and felt it tense under your touch. You’d think after how long you’d known him his touch aversion wouldn’t be an issue with you anymore, but apparently not. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you withdrew your hand as if you burnt your hand on a hot stove and let out an awkward scoff, turning away to look back at your friends, who tried and failed miserably at making it look like they weren’t watching you and Spencer.

“We should…”

“Yeah… w-we should.” Spencer passed you and sat down next to Derek in the booth, leaving you in your usual spot next to Emily with your first of many drinks that night.

3 Hours Later

(Spencer’s POV)

I helped her into my car and buckled her up after she couldn’t find the seatbelt. When I got into the driver’s seat, I glanced at her to see if she was still conscious, only to see her dopey smile directed at me.

“What?” I laughed nervously.

“Nothing,” she slurred, dragging out the ‘ing’ and turning her head towards the window.

“You okay?”

She nodded and leaned her head against the glass as I pulled out of the parking lot. She was quiet for the most part during the drive, so I assumed she was asleep, so imagine my shock when she piped up as soon as I parked in front of her place.

“Can you walk me in?” she asked as if I could say no to her.

“Of course.” I was going to regardless. I helped her out of the car and she stood on wobbly legs. She groaned and looked at her feet.

“Hold this.” She shoved her purse into my arms and placed a hand on my shoulder and hopped up to take off one of her heels, tossing it onto her seat before repeating her actions on her other shoe. She grabbed the pair and marched up the path to her front door. I trailed close behind, just in case she stumbled, which she did.

She fumbled for her key when she suddenly remembered that I had her purse. I dug through the pockets and fished it out, tossing it to her once I got close enough. She instantly giggled as soon as I met her eyes.

“What’s so funny now?”

“Nothing, Spence,” she failed to stifle a smile as she tried to open the door, “You have nothing to worry about.”

I stepped in beside her, “Well you’ve been awfully quiet since we left and now you’re laughing at me!”

“I’m just thinking!”

“That can’t be good,” I joked, prompting her to lightly slap my arm, “Kidding! What are you thinking about?”

“Don’t worry about it!”

“No, now I’m curious!”

“Just something stupid Derek said before you came tonight.”

“Oh jeez, now I have to know.” She climbed up the staircase and down the hallway in front of her bedroom. She twisted the knob and pushed open the door. I stepped in after her and placed her purse down on the dresser. She flopped down on the bed, shuffling under the covers, not even bothering to change out of the clothes she wore to the bar. I grinned down at her. She looked like an angel snuggled up in the sheets.

“Comfy?”

“Very.”

“Good. Call me if you need anything, Y/N,” I started to walk towards the door.

“Did you have a crush on me in high school?”

I paused.

“W-Where’d you get that from?” Nice job, genius, that doesn’t sound guilty at all.

“That’s what Derek said.” She was now sitting up in bed.

Okay, but how did he know that?

“How did this come up exactly?”

She explained how the team was trying to get her to tell them embarrassing stories about me as a kid (sidenote: not cool, guys) and my dear old friend Kyle came up. She said that Morgan brought up transference, where a person experiences something traumatic and associates their “hero” with safety and feelings of relief after being helped.

“He said one girl you helped in a case had feelings for you and the way you explained transference to Derek sounded like you were speaking from experience.”

Great. This is what I get for only having friends on the team. My best guy friend is also a profiler who can read me like a book. Awesome.

I let out a deep sigh and sat down in the chair next to her bed, “I was.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Yeah. Because that’s where it all started for me. A pretty girl told off one of my bullies and showed me basic human decency--”

“Aw, Spence, you thought I was pretty?” She teased, eliciting a chuckle from me.

“Of course I did. Y/N, you were the head cheerleader that came to me for help with chemistry and tousled my hair and bought me McDonald’s whenever our study sessions ran late. To twelve-year-old Spencer you were this perfect, unattainable princess--”

“Princess?” She giggled and it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard, “I like that.”

“Yep.” I laughed with her, “A princess who lived in a beautiful castle with posters on the walls and sparkly beads on the curtains and Doctor Who playing on the TV and a mom that always invited me to stay for dinner and I’m rambling again but that’s perfectly fine with you because you actually cared about what I had to say, especially when I would talk about Shakespeare because A Midsummer Night’s Dream was your favorite assigned reading and--” I stopped myself before it slipped out.

I love you. I’ve said it a million times to her in a million different ways but I knew at that moment that if I said the actual words that I wouldn’t be able to take them back, not that I would ever want to, I just want her to be present when I told her the first time. If I said it now it would be the first time she’d hear it from me and she wouldn’t even remember it when she woke up.

“And what?” She still smiled at me so brightly that the dimly lit room was lit up by the gleam in her eyes.

I smiled back, “You’re my best friend.”

Her grin somehow grew wider, her eyes scrunching up, but the sparkle was still there, “You’re my best friend too.”

If I hadn’t already decided against it, I would have said it then. I would have repeated those words over and over again until the words lost all meaning, only they never would because they felt like they meant the world to me. But I wouldn’t let myself start. Instead, I just looked at her like she was the moon and stars and all the space in between and said, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Spence, wait,” she murmured, further burying herself in her covers.

“What now?” I whined, the smile still present on my face.

“I think you’re pretty too.”

It had never been harder for me to resist the urge to kiss her than in that moment. Every fiber of my being screamed to sit back down, lean over her pillow, take her face in my hands, and crash my lips to hers. And for a split second, I thought I would. I almost did. I almost gave myself everything I had ever wanted for sixteen years, four months, and eleven days, but I couldn’t.

“And I think you’re drunk.”

“Spencer Reid!” She squealed, “Just cuz I’m drunk does not mean that you aren’t pretty!”

“Oh really?”

“Yep! ‘Cuz guess what, genius?”

“What?”

“I think you’re pretty when I’m sober, too.”

If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was trying to drive me insane. And you know what?

It was working.

While I was lost in my thoughts, no doubt staring at her, she let out a tiny yawn and snuggled deeper into her pillow. A piece of hair fell in front of her eyes, hooded yet still shining. I brushed the hair out of her face and told her to get some rest.

“Good idea. I’m sleepy,” she dragged out the e and yawned again, “Goodnight, Pretty Boy.”

“Goodnight, princess.” I chuckled softly. My fingers still lingered just behind her ear, so I stroked her hair once more and pressed a small kiss to her forehead once I was sure she was asleep. Her cheeks twitched in a barely conscious smile, making me grateful for my eidetic memory again. I went to the kitchen and took a glass from the cabinet, filling it up in the sink and placing it on the nightstand with some aspirin.

I took a sheet of some stationery and scrawled out a note for her in the morning:

Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.

The Next Morning

(Reader’s POV)

The coffee machine made too much noise. Your head was pounding despite the fact you took an aspirin a few minutes ago. Now you played the waiting game, hoping it would kick in soon. When the pot was finally done, you poured yourself a cup, hoping it would help wake you up. You normally wouldn’t drink coffee this late, but you needed it. Just as you took your first sip, your mom came through the front door with Jamie in tow carrying his pajamas in a shopping bag. He said good morning to you and ran upstairs to his room.

“Did you just wake up?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N, it’s almost noon.” You could hear the judgment in her voice.

You took a sip of coffee, “It’s 11:05.”

“I take it you had fun at O’Keefe’s last night?”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“How’d you get home?”

“Spence drove me.”

Her eyes widened, excited. She lowered her voice to ask, “Is he still here?”

“Mom!” You whisper-yelled.

“I was just checking!”

“No, he’s not, he dropped me off and went home.” You decided to leave out the whole “putting you to bed” part.

“How’s your hangover?”

“Better with aspirin.”

“Have you been drinking water?”

“A little,” you lied.

“No more coffee until you finish a glass.” She took your mug and dumped its contents down the drain.

“Wh—” You start, “Mom, I’m not a kid.”

“Just drink your damn water.”

“Jesus,” you groan, still making your way to the stairs and heading up to your room, where your water had been put on your nightstand the night before. Under the glass was a note that you didn’t notice when you first woke up. You recognized the chicken scratch handwriting immediately: Spencer.

“Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.”

You smiled as you read the words over and over. You put the note down and took a sip from the glass. You reached over to your phone on the nightstand and dialed his number. It rang twice before Spencer’s voice crackled over the speaker, “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Better, thank you.”

“Of course. Did you drink the water I gave you last night?”

“Some of it.”

“Good, did you eat?”

“No.”

“I’m going on my lunch break in a bit, wanna meet up?”

Your heart fluttered at the offer, a small grin tugging at your lips. You nodded, unable to find words enthusiastic enough to express how much you’d like that, before settling on “Yeah! Sounds good!”

“Perfect! There’s a new thai place downtown I’ve been meaning to check out, how about there?”

“Sure! I’ll meet you at Quantico?”

“See you then!”

“Bye,” you all but sighed into the receiver before snapping out of it. You always tried to keep that part of you beneath the surface, but it wasn’t as easy as it used to be. You didn’t remember much from last night, but you did remember calling him pretty boy and making him blush. You remember him tucking you in and calling you princess and brushing your hair out of your eyes. You remembered how your chest swelled with light as he pressed his lips to your forehead, and the soft chuckle he let out seeing you smile against your pillow.

You hopped in the shower and got dressed, fixing yourself just enough to pass for a functioning adult who did not get sloppy drunk in front of her best friend’s coworkers last night. You told your mom you were going out for lunch, and she happily agreed to babysit for a few hours while you were with Spencer.

“Have fun on your date!”

“Not a date!” You almost couldn’t tell who you were talking to, her or you.

You got to Quantico about a half-hour later and were met by Dave in the bullpen.

“Oh, look who’s joined the land of the living!”

“Oh, come on, I wasn’t that bad last night. I could have been Penelope.”

“That is true, bella, but it was still a Thursday,” Dave chuckled, “The kid’s in Aaron’s office, he’ll be out in a sec.”

“Thank you,” you said and walked over to Spencer’s desk, sitting down in his chair and making small talk with Emily while you waited. A few minutes later, you saw him walk out of the office, eyes immediately landing on you.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue @purelyprentiss @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae @t0xicllama @undeniablyyou @staplernpaper @theweirdobella @sammypotato67 @k-k0129 @helloniallslovelies @dazzlingnights @uhuhuh @booksarekindaneat @crimeshowtrash @carlgrxmes @collectiveuniverses @annesauriol

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #mgg smut #mgg x reader #mgg imagine #mgg fanfiction #mgg #cm imagine #cm fan fiction #CM #criminal minds imagine #Criminal Minds Reid #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds

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moshymosh · 3 years

Text

Remember Me- Something’s happening

When the love of your life suffers from a disease that affects their memory of their life with you, what do you do? Will you spend your last days with them, trying to get them to remember you? The life you had, or would you give up and let them forget you?

Summary- Dr. Spencer Reid felt his whole life change when Agent Y/n L/n joined the BAU. She came in like a cool summer breeze changing everything Spencer knew about love and his capacity to care for someone so much. Y/n came to the BAU with a tragic past, her only goal was to save lives and make the world a safer place for everyone. She meets a skinny shaggy haired doctor, which causes her whole life to change, much like Spencer, will she fall in love or will her tragic past or even her job prevent her?

Pairings- Dr. Spencer Reid x f!reader

A/N- This is a notebook inspired story, this story will be told and wrote like a chapter book. So some of the endings will not always make sense. Also I don't claim go own Criminal Minds or the Notebook, this is solely for entertainment purposes and for enjoyment. Some of the lines are from the notebook movie, again I don't claim to own either fandom/tv show/ movie. I try to make Y/n as vague as possible so shes more inclusive so if there is any descriptive things that don’t apply to you feel free to ignore them. Also just putting this out there as the story progresses Maeve is still alive and well, she is a good friend of Spencer and Y/n’s. There will be graphic content and sexual scenes in later chapters, warnings will be added as they go. Also if you want to be tagged send me an as or comment here, also send requests I'm down for making little fics.

PS- Please don't post my fics anywhere without my documented consent, thanks -Karma (MoshyMosh)

Warnings!- This chapter with have some sexual content, talk of sexual assault, and descriptions of kidnapping. If these bother you please don't read this chapter!

A/N 2.0- I am like half asleep, I will double check the spelling and any issues when I was up

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Y/N laughed from her couch as she tossed some popcorn at Spencer, who sat on the other end of her couch.

"Y/N!" Spencer scolded as he looked over at her, with a smile, when he saw that she was pretending to be interested in the movie they were watching.

Y/N tried to hide her smirk, before she erupted in giggles as she looked back at him, tossing some more popcorn at him. Spencer groaned as he tried to swat away the onslaught of popcorn before he started laughing along with her. Soon Y/N had wiggled her way over to Spencer as she continued to rain popcorn at him before she straddled his hips. Y/N smiled down at him as she lifted the bowl of remaining popcorn above his head then tipped it, dumping the rest of the popcorn.

"Y/N!" Spencer laughed, as he reached up to grab the bowl from her hands. She chuckled and dropped the bowl behind the couch, her arms dropped so that they were draped over his shoulders. Spencer's hands dropped to rest on her hips, and let out a sigh of contentment when her fingers brushed against some of the hair at the base of his neck as she looked down at his face.

Spencer licked his lips as he nervously fiddled with her oversized sweater, his eyes looking between her eyes and her lips. "Screw it." He said quietly before he crashed his lips to hers. Y/N let out a soft gasp against his lips before she eagerly kissed him back, threading her fingers into his hair.

Spencer's hands slid under her sweater, his fingertips brushing against the band of her shorts she wore. Y/N pulled away from the kiss to pull off her sweater, leaving her top half bare. Spencer let out a breath and looked up from her chest, his hands coming up to card through her hair. He pulled her head down to crush his lips against hers again, his hips grinding up against hers slightly. The movie they had turned on, now forgotten behind her.

As they continued to kiss, Y/N let out a groan and pulled away from him as she heard her phone ringing on the coffee table. She slid off Spencer's lap and stood, reaching for her phone. Spencer bit his lip, as his eyes raked over her topless figure, as she bent to pick up the ringing device.

"Penny, you need to have a really good reason for calling on our week off." Y/N said when she answered the phone. "We have a case don't we?" She looked at Spencer as she reached for her sweater when he handed it to her. Spencer watched her slide it on and chuckled softly when he heard her next words. "No need to call him, he's right in front of me." She smiled at him, with a wink.

Spencer smiled back and stood from the couch to gather his things after he pressed a kiss to Y/N's forehead. "Was that a kiss I heard?!" He heard from Penelope's end of the call, causing him to chuckle again.

"Goodbye, Penelope." Y/N said before she hung up. "I'll get dressed then we can go to the office."

Spencer and Y/N rode to Quantico in a tension-filled silence after what happened before they were interrupted. Spencer looked over at Y/N as he replayed the kiss over and over again. He was pulled away from his thoughts as she pulled into her assigned parking spot in the lot. The pair got out and started walking to the elevator in the parking garage.

Y/N fiddled with one of the buttons on her blazer as they rode the elevator in silence. Spencer leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple with a smile, pulling away when the doors started opening on their floor. Y/N smiled softly and stepped out with Spencer, once they were inside the bullpen, she went over to her desk to drop off her bag.

"Miss Y/N..." Penelope sing-songed as she walked over to her, dragging Derek along with her. "You have some 'splanin' to do." She said in the 'I love Lucy' voice.

"I do not." Y/N said feigning innocence. "Also we have a case so now's not the time." She said as she began to walk upstairs to the meeting room, taking her seat next to Spencer.

Soon, everyone arrived and sat down around the table pulling their files to him, opening them up to look at their contents. "Ok guys. We're not traveling very far for this case. It's in our own backyard." Hotch said as he began clicking through some of the photos on the TV screen. Y/N listened to him in the background as she started looking through the pictures for the victimology.

"Every one of the women are Y/H/C and Y/E/C eyed, the only thing different is height and weights. Some of them were found to have Y/E/C contacts and a crude dye job if they did not have the correct look to the unsub. These things were noted in the autopsies." Y/N said as she looked up at the screen as pictures of the victims came up.

"There was some DNA recovered from the sexual assaults and under the fingernails of the first victim, there were no matches in CODAS." Derek said, reading the information from his file.

"DC capitol police think the first victim is Leah Ainsworth, 24, a tourist in DC on vacation." Hotch said. "The period of which the victims were reported missing and then to when they were found is 3-5 days."

Y/N nodded her head. " The extreme amount of wounds seems like overkill. 10 of the wounds on Leah were done postmortem. A lot of rage behind these attacks." She said as she closed her file and looked around at the rest of the team to gauge their reactions.

"There's something else..." Derek said. "Every victim was found with a note that said 'For F/I M/I L/I'."

"Could it be an activist group?" Spencer asked, sitting up in his seat.

"Could be initials." Hotch said rubbing his chin in thought. "Garcia see if those are a match for anything like that."

"Got it." Penelope said, writing down a note for herself.

"Reid, Morgan, go to the latest crime scene. Y/L/N and Prentiss go to where this latest victim was abducted and see if you can get anything from there. JJ your with me, setting up the evidence boards." Hotch directed.

"Let's do this." Emily said, getting up from her seat.

The team spent the day finding out new evidence and new possibilities. As they were about to go home for the night they sat in the meeting room going over the things they found out.

"Emily and I found out our latest victim was supposed to meet someone, like a date." Y/N said as she fiddled with her pen. "But the person never showed."

Emily nodded her head. "Customer parking is down an alley behind the building, the unsub could've blitz attacked and drugged the girls."

"Garcia, anything on the search?" Hotch asked, turning towards the woman in question.

"All I got were two activist groups and millions of names." She said, rubbing at her forehead.

"Alright. Guys go home, we'll come back tomorrow and look at this with fresh eyes." Hotch said before everyone got up and went to their desks to gather their things. Y/N smiled at Spencer as she held up her keys.

"Give you a ride home." She said before she mimicked Derek's voice. "Pretty boy."

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yes, I'll take your offer, but don't ever do that again." He joked as he walked over to her.

Y/N drove Spencer home, dropping him off at his apartment building with a kiss. Soon she arrived home, parked in her normal spot, and gather things before she let herself into the courtyard with her keycard. She looked through her keyring for her house key as she walked up to her door.

She stopped what she was doing with a smile, as she spotted a glass vase full of yellow red-tipped roses sitting in front of her door. She chuckled as she fished out her phone out and dialed Spencer's number as she reached to pull the notecard out with the hand holding her keyring, as she began reading it. She let out a squeal as she felt something press against her nose and mouth. She dropped everything she was holding to fight off her attacker.

"Y/N? Y/N?!" Spencer called over the phone hearing the struggle.

"I finally found you." Y/N heard in her ear as she felt her body go limp in her attacker's arms, succumbing to the drug. Her attacker lifted her body into his arms.

"Jason..." Y/N slurred out in the direction of her phone as her attacker pulled her badge and gun off her person. "Jason Dean... Spencie..." Y/N slurred again before she passed out.

"No one is going to save you, babe. I've got you now." her attacker said as he stepped on her phone in his walk to his vehicle.

Spencer took a shaky breath and called Hotch after the line when dead. "Hotch, Something has happened to Y/N.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagine smut #Moshymosh's masterlist #Moshymoshwrites #moshymosh writes #karmawrites #Karma's imagines #Remember Me

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pixie88 · 3 years

Text

Oxford to the Cotswolds

Chapter 23 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: So here it is the LAST chapter of Always the Bridesmaid. I kinda feel sad but I know it’s not the end of H&L.Thanks so much @aussieez for proof reading. Thank you again to all those following this story and continue to follow it, you have no idea how much it means to me that you take the time to read.😘

I’m finalizing my tag list for this over the next few days, so again if you like to be tagged just let me know!

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & NSFW

Word Count: 2914

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy! 😘

A week later.

After their little spat, Harry decided maybe now was the time to take up his parents offer of using their cottage. They had their trip planned out, they would leave London on the Sunday morning stop at Oxford for a day or two and get to his parents' cottage on the Tuesday afternoon. "We are staying in an old prison that has been converted into a hotel?" Laila asks as they drove along the M40 "Yeah, I thought it was unusual and right up your street?" he takes his eyes off the road for a second to wink at her "You know the whole cops and robbers thing"

She rolls her eyes and laughs, "I'm guessing you're the criminal?" he smirks. "Nah, I'm a law abiding citizen, my love. You seem like the troublemaker here!" she laughs, "I've been looking up all the sites we need to visit while we are there"

He knew she wouldn't be able to visit a place without doing her research.

"Where do you need to visit then?" she smiles at the fact he asked "So, there is the obvious Bridge of Sighs, which is kind of a copy of the Rialto Bridge in Venice, Carfax tower the views of Oxford, from there are supposed to be amazing, Martyr's Cross which is a cross they have in the road where two Anglican bishops and the Archbishop of Canterbury were burned, oh and there is a Harry Potter tour around the University as some scenes were filmed there and Oxford Castle which is right next door to our prison hotel!"

"Sounds like a couple of days of learning!" he laughs at her "NOT just learning! There is a bar with magical cocktails, ones in test tubes, with fire and even smoke!" she's excited.

Harry doesn't know it, but Laila is a bit of a history buff, if she goes somewhere new she will research the hell out of it. Not long after they moved to London Laila was still adjusting to life in the city, Ezra could see his granddaughter struggling, so he planned a day out with her.

They stood on platform 5 at Harrow and Wealdstone Station "Grandad, where are we going?" she asked him "You will see when we get there!" he smiles at her. The train ride wasn't long. Fifty minutes later they pulled into Bletchley Station "Grandad, why are we here?" he chuckled "And I thought you knew everything about World War 2!" he winks at her, but it doesn't click until 10 minutes later when they were standing outside Bletchley Park.

Laila's eyes are wide "Oh my god!! This....this is where Alan Turing cracked the enigma machine!!" she squealed with excitement before hugging him. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she's beaming, she takes his hand and drags him through the doors.

This was one thing he and his granddaughter had in common, was their interest in World War 2. They spent hours looking around the huts where it all happened. He never saw her face light up so much as she looked around at the artefacts. They had a look around Station X (National Radio Centre) and when they finally reached the Mansion Laila was overjoyed "Grandad, just think all those people that helped crack the code have been in this very room...no house!!"

They spend hours looking around, before grabbing something to eat at hut 4 "Grandad, just think this is where they would get lunch or even dinner!" she looks around the hut "Laila, just think while they were here no one knew! They had to lie about working here, they couldn't tell anyone even family members. They had to take a vow of silence" he said.

This rang true, as years later Max was building an annex for a couple at the end of their garden and when he got talking to the Nan, whom the annex was being built for she told him how her mum worked at Bletchley Park and had to take a vow of silence which she kept until the park reopened as a museum in 1994.

When it was time to go home Laila couldn't thank him enough for taking her there "Just don't tell your brothers!" she laughs, "I've taken the Bletchley Park vow of silence!"

They finally arrived, Harry pulls into a parking space outside the hotel and a valet comes over Harry hands him the keys and they head in with their cases. They check in; "you will be on the fifth floor in room 135, so take the lift to the right once you go through those doors. Here is your room key and enjoy your stay!" she smiles. "I'm sure we will!" Harry grins at her before they make their way to their room.

"Did you ever watch the TV show Bad Girls?" Laila asks him as the lift takes them to the fifth floor. "I did! Izzy made me watch it with her. That woman that played Yvonne plays Shirley from Eastenders now, doesn't she?" she laughs, "I thought you don't watch it?" she nudges him as the doors open "I don't but when you put it on what am I supposed to do?" he winks.

"129...130...4 more rooms to go," she calls behind her. "Actually 5 more my love," he laughs, she turns to look at him "No! You don't include our room!" she protests. "I think you do," he laughs at her. "NO! No, you don't," he doesn't argue with her.

They dump their bags and head out to look around the city "Oh, they have a Harry Potter tour" Laila's tone is ecstatic, Harry sighs "Don't you want to do it?" she asks "If you want to we will do it" her eyes scan his face "Did the kids in school use to take the piss out of you in school because you had the same name?" she asks, he laughs, "No, if anything they used to call me...oh what was his fat mate called?"

"Crabbe?" she looks at him. "Yeah, that's the one," he offers a weak smile, she runs her fingers through his hair before her arms cling around his neck "Well, who's laughing now? I bet a lot of the girls and boys that bullied you regret it now! You are handsome, fit, funny and you are mine" she winks, he can't help smiling at her "And I have a drop dead gorgeous girlfriend" he says making her blush.

"We'll do something else," she smiles at him and kisses his lips "No, we'll do the tour if you want to!" she looks how long the tour is "2 hours, argh, I'd rather be doing some kinda cardio" he looks at her confused and she laughs, "use your imagination, you are a personal trainer" she winks. He quickly gets the hint "Right, what do we need to look at before I drag you back to the hotel?" he grins at her.

Later.

After dinner, they had back up to their room, "I'm going for a shower" Laila winks at him "OK, I'll grab one after you," she smirks "I was thinking more along the lines of you joining me," she doesn't have to ask him twice, he picks her up and she wraps her legs around his waist as he walks them to the bathroom.

After their shower, Laila notices the chocolate on the bed as she's drying herself. "Oh wow! They're shaped like handcuffs!" she giggles "Hmmm.....that reminds me," he wanders over to his case in just his towel and pulls out a pair of metal handcuffs. "And what do you intend to do with those Mr. Taylor?" she bites her lip "Oh, maybe make an arrest," he winks at her, she notices his arousal through the towel "Oh, on what grounds?" she asks.

"Hmmm....for being stubborn and sarcastic, but also gorgeous, funny, adorable and extremely impossible not to fall in love with" he stands in front of her, pulling off her towel until it drops to the floor. He cups her face, his thumb runs over her lips before capturing them with his, he lifts her arms above her head and his hands run up her arms before he suddenly cuffs her hands.

She smirks against his lips "Oh, PC Taylor, what do I have to do to get you to uncuff me?" his kiss becomes more intense. She drops her hands, so they are wrapped around his neck, he moves them until the backs of her knees hit the bed. They fall onto it with Harry landing on top of her "Well, Miss. Carelli, I think you can convince me somehow" his fingers finds her core.

She hisses at the contact, his other hand comes up and pins her arms above her head as he found her slick petals. "I thought I was the one who had to.....oh shit...convince you to free me," she can barely get her words out, his lips find her pulse line "How exactly are you planning on doing that?" he smirks against her neck.

"Stand up and I'll show you," he does as she says, she sits up and pulls off his towel. Grasping him, she works her hand along him a few times before her mouth follows the same path, he groans as his hips thrust forward in need. Her pillowy lips work along his hardened member, he grunts as her jaw slacks, taking him in further "Fuck...." he mutters.

He rocks his hips back and forth as her tongue runs along the ridges of his cock, he grips a fistful of her hair. His head fell back as he groans, "That's...it gorgeous! Fuck...". She hums against him and her pace moves faster. His knees bucks, her apex is throbbing as she feels him nearing the edge "Laila....I'm...gonna....fuck!" he jerks as he hits his climax and he groans.

She releases him from her mouth and looks up at him. "Are you going to uncuff me now?" she asks as she's sat on her feet, he looks down at her with a grin. He lifts her up and throws her onto the bed, making her giggle "Hey, you said would take these off!" he has a mischievous grin on his face. "Well, Miss. Carelli! I prefer to have you like this, sorry." he captures her lips.

"That's not fair......." she protests, but she soon cuts off as he moves down her body to her centre, his hands grasp the back of both her thighs. His tongue moves apart her folds "Oh Harry!" she moves her arms to run her fingers through his hair. He pulls away, lifts her arms above her head again and kisses her lips "Keep them there!" he tells her before moving back to her core.

Her breathing hitches, he sucks against her clit, making her cry out "Ohhh"

A little later.

His legs are entwined with hers beneath the sheets, she's cuddled up against him as her head rests on his chest "When we get back do you think we should look at properties?" she lifts up and places her hand against his chest stroking his chest hair, looking up to him. He smirks at her, "definitely!" he strokes her hair away from her face "What if we have a look online now?" she stares into his ocean blue eyes and bites her lip waiting for his response.

He reaches for his phone "Let's have a look," he loads up and scrolls through the properties. "What are we going for?" he asks "Somewhere with gates, private drive and pool," she laughs, he digs his fingers into her ribs and she tries to wiggle away "Ahhhh! Harry! Stop!!" his phone is discarded, he cups her face and claims her lips.

His body covers hers and he takes her against.

The next day.

They are back in the car on the way to Harry's parents cottage in Wyck Rissington, Gloucestershire.

Along the way they find a supermarket and grab a few essentials before they continued their drive. They arrive at the cottage 10 minutes later "Aww wow! This is cute!" she smiles as they get out the car. "And it's ours for the next few days" he winks at her.

They head inside, "wow, look at those beams!" she points up at the ceiling. "Have you been here before?" she looks to Harry. "Nah, Mum and Dad haven't let any of us use it...well until now" he winks.

Once they bring in their bags inside, he takes her hand and they have a look around when Harry spots a hot tub outside "Oh, what do we have here?" he nods as he opens the door "I didn't bring a swimsuit!" he has a devilish grin. "Who said anything about swimsuits?" she bit her lip and shook her head at him.

Harry runs Laila a bubble bath with candles around the tub and told her to relax while he cooked dinner. The water was warm against her skin as she sinks into the bathtub, a minute or so later there is a knock on the bathroom door before Harry wanders in with a glass of wine "Here you go, my love," she smiles up at him as she takes the glass "Thank you! So, what's for dinner?"

He leans over kisses her nose and winks "You'll find out when it's on the table. Now enjoy." He leaves her to it.

34 minutes later.

Laila walks into the bedroom and Harry has laid out a dress grey dress on the bed for her to wear. She smiles and starts to get dressed, underneath she puts on some lacy lingerie she had brought for the trip. When she's dressed, she goes in search for Harry, as soon as she saw him, she blushes but can't help but laugh.

"Harry!! What are you doing?" he's stood in the kitchen in just an apron and his boxers, he looks up at her and grins. "You've heard of the Naked Chef right?" he winks. "But he isn't actually naked!" she laughs at him. "I'm not either! I was thinking about it but I thought that would be unsanitary. I see you're wearing the dress I picked out for you." She makes her way over to him.

"Yeah, but the view would be...very sexy," she squeezes his behind "What's for dinner?" she looks around him on the kitchen side "Ah, ah, ah go and sit down," he moves, so she can't see, she sighs, "Fine!" Laila pulls out her phone and sends a picture she took earlier.

Laila looks over to Harry, biting her lip and he catches her checking him out. "You realise I'm not dinner right?" He says. She looks up catching his eye, "might not be dinner, but there is always dessert!" She winks twirling her hair. He chuckles turning back to cooking.

She puts down her phone as he comes over with 2 plates, placing them on table. "Ooo spaghetti and meatballs!" he pours them more wine, Laila twirls her fork collecting the spaghetti "Did you ever see the film The Lady and the Tramp?" she looks over to him. "I have. Mila made me watch it once." He laughs. "Do think we can do a Lady and the Tramp kiss?" she hold up a a string of spaghetti and he chuckles "We can try. Let me put it in my mouth first" Laila cracks and can't help but laugh "OH MY GOD!!"

"Come on, let's give it ago!" He takes the end of the spaghetti and lifts the other side to Laila, she takes it in her mouth and begins to get closer to Harry until their lips are just above each other's. He brushes his lips lightly over hers before pulling away. "Come on, eat up" he smiles at her and she rolls her eyes at him.

After dinner, he takes their plates. "I'll wash them up," she offers. "You can or I can put them in the dishwasher," he jokes, "Actually, you load the dishwasher. I'm going to start up the hot tub!" she gets up from the table "Already done, my love!" he winks at her. "Oh OK!" she stands and lets her dress fall off her shoulders until it's a puddle on the floor.

He looks her up and down. "I didn't bring a swimsuit, but this will do?" say asks as she makes her way to the back door. His eyes never leave hers, she grins, knowing she had him hook, line and sinker. He quickly closes the dish washer and chases after her, she squeals running from him and towards the door.

@lem-20 @aussieez @secretaryunpaid @irisofpurple @khoicesbyk @txemrn @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer @tea-me-kah @casualpostqueen @beautifuluknownvoid @wombatsxkookaburras

Their moans fill the night sky, both are blissfully happy.

Series 2 - Chapter 1

#atb #Always The Bridesmaid #final chapter #original writing #harry x laila #oxford #oxford castle #oxford martyr #oxford university #malmaison oxford #Original Work #original character #original story #@pixie 88 original

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angryschnauzer · 4 years

Text

Lobby Hero

Summary: When your creepy ex turns up at an event you are attending with your friend you stay for as long as you can, before calling an Uber to escape your ex. Thankfully the Uber driver is happy to play along and save you from the unwanted advances of your ex, being your hero in the hotel lobby.

Pairing: Colin Shea x Female Reader

Warnings: None apart from a slightly creepy ex, and a bit of smooching. Fluff with Meet-cute.

I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll get alerted each time i post.

I no longer have a masterlist due to having over 150 fiics, instead you can find everything on AO3 with the LINK HERE.

A/N: I changed this to Colin Shea (Chris’s character in What’s Your Number) as it was getting too close to real-person fiction if i left it as Chris. Plus Colin is an utter charmer and ladies man and i can so see him playing along with this situation.

Lobby Hero

Smoothing your dress down you smiled at your reflection in the ladies room mirror. It was the first time you’d been ‘out-out’ in months, your friend having convinced you to be her plus one for a work thing at a swanky hotel, and with an evening of entertainment and free drinks on the cards you were quite pleased with how you’d polished up for the night after hanging around at home after your split from your ex. Your dress that you’d ordered from Wish had turned out to be exactly like the photo, and you couldn’t help but to feel like a princess in it.

Back to your ex; Most people were surprised when the two of you had split up, but they didn’t know how weird your ex had gotten, the snide comments about your weight, how he treated you as ‘the woman at home’ even when you also had a full time career. When the gaslighting had started you’d picked him up on it immediately and had kicked his ass out of your apartment, thankful that the two of you had never moved in together properly and promptly got the locks changed.

Emerging from the ladies room you saw your friend and waved, but paused when you saw the worried look on her face. She glanced across the room and you followed her gaze, your heart sinking when you saw him; your ex.

Frozen to the spot you didn’t realise your friend had moved until she linked an arm through yours;

“Are you ok with him here?”

“I… I guess… its a big room, maybe he won’t see me”

“If he does i’ll kick his ass for you”

Smiling at her you nodded, but you could feel your hands start to shake with nerves. The announcement that the guests should take their seats for dinner came over the PA system and the two of you made your way to the large ballroom, taking your seats as you fiddled with the beads on your dress. For now your ex was out of sight, and you felt a little of your nerves start to slip away… that was until you felt a hand on your shoulder, fingers dipping under the strap of your dress in a far too familiar way. Shrieking you suddenly stood and span around, eyes wide with fear when you saw your ex behind you, holding out his arms and leaning towards you;

“Honey…”

Suddenly an arm was thrust between you and gave him a hard thump across his chest, your friend stepping between the two of you;

“Buddy… go back to your seat…”

“Get out of my way bitch”

“Hey, she broke up with you, its over you psycho, fuck off… NOW”

Her voice got loud enough to draw the attention of a number of other guests, a couple of the men standing to see if they needed to come to your aid, but as your ex backed away and disappeared from the room, you let out a sigh of relief.

The rest of the meal went without a hitch, but as drinks were served for the Mayor’s speech you saw your ex standing at the corner of the room, eyes trained directly on you;

“Hey…” you leaned towards your friend as you quietly spoke; “I’m gonna call an Uber, he’s still over there and he’s giving me the creeps”

“No… don’t go, i’ll call security…”

“No, please, i just want to get away from him. And you know he’d just pull some strings and be allowed back in”

Nodding she wrapped her arm around your shoulder as you logged onto the app and requested an Uber, watching the little timer spin around until it came up with a confirmation that your ride was on its way;

Colin will pick you up in a Silver Prius’ and gave you the licence plate. You nervously watched the progress of the driver on the real-time map, and a few minutes later you had an alert to say he’d arrived outside. Glancing over the room you could see your ex was still standing in the corner, still staring at you, and when a message from the driver made your phone vibrate you almost dropped it;

“I’m outside the hotel. Did you need any help with luggage?”

Your fingers paused over the keyboard, before you took a deep breath and started to type;

“No luggage, but could you meet me in the lobby? My psycho Ex is here and i need to leave, and i need him to think i’m leaving with someone i know…”

As the message clicked to ‘read’ and then showed the driver was replying, you looked up and discovered your Ex was heading slowly towards you, weaving between tables. Grabbing your purse you turned towards the door behind you, walking as quickly as you could. Your phone vibrated with a new message;

‘In the Lobby. Red check shirt and ball cap. Next to the big light bubble thing’

You quickly typed a reply;

‘Long Black and pink sparkly dress, coming now. x’

Pulling your dress up so you could take bigger strides, you started to trot on your heels, the sound of dress shoes behind you making you go faster, and as you turned the corner to the Lobby and saw him.

Now your legs were carrying you faster, your heart skipping a beat as you called out his name, almost melting on the spot as he smiled and held his arms out for you;

“Babe… you look amazing!”

Without even thinking you ran into the arms of this stranger, shaking from fear and adrenaline as he held you to his chest;

“Shhh its ok…” he whispered to you; “Your ex, wouldn’t happen to be a weasly looking short dude in a green suit?”

“Yes, that’s him” you muttered quietly

You saw Colin glance up again before looking straight into your eyes as he spoke;

“You want a pretend friend or a pretend boyfriend”

“B-boyfriend?” you questioned, but your words were cut off by Colin’s lips on yours, and as he started to pull away you found yourself clinging to his shirt and pulling him back again. This time your mouth opened to his, his hand straying to your hip as his tongue danced against yours, holding you flush with his entire body before you finally parted, breathless with kiss bruised lips;

“Sorry… how about we get you home safe and well, huh?” Colin whispered, the two of you turning and started towards the doors, his arm around your shoulder when you suddenly heard your name called from close behind you. You knew it was your ex, but what you weren’t expecting was for Colin to suddenly turn, reaching out and grabbing your ex by the shirt and tie;

“Listen Buddy, she’s with me now, you come anywhere near her again and you will not live long enough to regret it, got it?”

“Y-y-yes Sir”

Letting go of him you both watched as your ex fell on his ass, Colin wrapping his arm around your waist as he steered you towards his ride. Opening the front passenger door for you, he stood like a gentleman as you sat and swung your legs in, carefully scooping the rest of your billowing dress into the car so it didn’t get shut in the door. Soon he was in the drivers seat and pulling away, the two of you sitting in silence as he quietly drove along the Boston streets.

As you waited at a set of red lights you finally both spoke simultaneously;

“Thank you…”

“I’m so sorry for kissing you…”

Looking surprised you finally let out a laugh;

“Would it be pathetic of me to say the kiss was actually the highlight of my evening?... and really, thank you for playing along, i know i’m a complete stranger, but i really REALLY appreciate it”

“Hey, in that case, it wasn’t a problem… at all. If you don’t mind me asking, your ex… he seemed a bit… stalkerish…”

“We broke up 6 months ago… it took me a year to realise he was an absolute shit. The way he treated me, the way he spoke down to me. I have always been completely happy with who i am and what i look like, but he made me feel like crap, telling me to loose weight, that i should change my hair, act like the good little wife… we weren’t even fucking married!” you info dumped on the poor driver as he slowly made his way towards the address saved on your account.

“Hey, it sounds like you made the right call then… cos’ just between you and me, you look fucking gorgeous”

Just at that point the onboard computer told him that you’d arrived at your destination, and you opened your purse to fish out your phone;

“I’m giving you a huge tip, you have literally been a life saver tonight….”

Colin gently clasped his hand over yours;

“You don’t need to do that…”

“Really, i insist”

“Well, how about you let me take you out for a drink instead; booze, coffee… whatever you want…”

His face was now just inches from yours, and you bit your lip as your gaze moved from his deep blue eyes down to his soft plump lips;

“I got coffee in my apartment?” you grinned; “What time do you get off?”

With a smirk he grinned at you;

“Babe, i don’t get off until i get you off”

“Oh you are so getting five stars…”

#colin shea #colin shea fanfic #colin shea x reader #whats your number #chris evans #fluff fanfic #meet cute

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