#I wish I could just find them funny it’d make it so much easier any time I stumble upon their videos

[darth-aces]

Orange Hour

Bella Ramsey x Reader

A short one for this week. Some feedback or suggestions for other stories is always welcomed if you wanted to share any by the way!

Walking towards Bella’s trailer, you unravel a clementine. One hand held the orange, the other hand-multitasking-began peeling away as it held onto a second orange. It’s small volume made it easy to peel and divide, making it even easier for you to share with others.

By the time you reached Bella’s door the clementine was completely peeled. Holding the peel and oranges in one hand you used the other hand to knock. Almost instantly the door opens to a smiling Bella.

“I see my daily dose of vitamin c has finally arrived.” When they say this they bring their hands up cupping them signaling me that they wanted some.

You and Bella do this at the end of each day after filming. You two have even coined this time of your day as the ‘orange hour’. A play on words to it’s ‘golden hour’ counterpart and an attempt to mark a time of the day dedicated to each other.

Surrendering the clementine to them, you place it in their hands and they begin tearing the pieces apart in pairs.

“Lets get going or else we’ll miss it.” You say.

With this ritual you and Bella share the first orange as the both of you make your way up a nearby hill that overlooks the set, giving you a great show of the color changing sky ahead of you before the sun disappears casting a dark blue. During the ‘orange hour’ you two sit and talk about your day and anything that came to mind as you shared the remaining clementine.

“How do you always peel it in a swirl like that?” Bella asks.

“Practice, I guess. Making smaller peels are harder to carry before throwing it out, it’s also less pleasing.” You explain, your eyes fixated on the sky.

“These are good today, sweet and cold. They’re the best when they’re cold.” You nod in agreement. They truly were the best when they were straight from the fridge or a cooler, enhancing it’s taste.

“They’re even better shared.” You say handing them the last slices. They hum in response before letting out a small ‘thank you’.

Suddenly you ask, “what do you think the sky taste like?” Bella snaps their head in your direction, with a humored expression.

“What?”

“The sky, like right now. What’s it taste like?” A chuckle came from their growing smile.

“I wish I could tell you, but I haven’t tasted the sky before.” They confess. “Although, right now when it’s all orange like that, I like to think it’d taste like the oranges we just ate.”

You nod, agreeing with them. “Yeah, I always thought the sky would taste fruity too.” This garnered a laugh from them and an immediate smile from you, satisfied from hearing them enjoy your joke. “I’m serious. It’s orange, pink, red, there’s even some white from the clouds. The sky is just one gigantic lesbian flag.” They find this irresistibly funny, giggling with you.

“But it’s blue most of the day.” Bella points out.

“That’s what makes ‘orange hour’ so special,” you point at the remaining peels in between you, “The sky is blue most of the day until it smells the citrus from the clementine because it reminds her of her lover. She gets so excited and she can’t help but change colors: red, orange, pink, and white. Lastly, she tries to change her taste: a citrusy, cool, orange flavor. Then she realizes that she’d been mistaken and her lover hate’s oranges causing them to ignore the sky’s attempts completely. The sky then returns to her blue state, only now its a darker blue because she’s saddened by how little her lover likes oranges.”

After intently listening to you, Bella says “You made that up.”

“Maybe I did, but you liked it.”

They hummed in agreement. “I think it deserves a better ending. I mean, why would the sky want to taste like an orange? You know, if her lover hates it so much.”

“They taste good, she can’t help it. I think I’d want to taste like a clementine.” Impulsively confessing trying to be funny.

A snort emerges from Bella, making you realize the accidental innuendo you made.

“Not like that. I meant like if someone were to kiss me.” You looked down at your shoes blushing, hoping to avoid eye contact.

A silence brew as you waited for their response, and you get nervous hoping you hadn’t just embarrassed yourself any further with your honesty. Your anxiety from the quiet was soon overcome by curiosity, wanting to see their reaction. Moving your eyes toward Bella’s face you see them looking right back at you. Their expression had a hint of seriousness but it was mostly made up of something that you couldn’t describe.

Keeping their eyes locked on yours, they softly ask, “Did you want someone to kiss you?”

With a shy tone you say, “Only if they liked oranges”, jokingly trying to regain control of the conversation again.

Quietly Bella says, “I like oranges.” They’re eyes never leaving yours adding weight to their honesty.

“Good, I like bringing them to you.” Gaining some confidence you added, “I’d like to bring more though”, as you start to slowly lean your head toward them.

With the remaining space between you two, they look down at your lips. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Another odd question comes to your mind. “Do you think I’d still taste like the clementines? Like the sky?”

“Could I find out?”

The sun disappears and the dark blue begins to take over. The only remaining sign of any red, orange, pink, and white that night was up on the hill, sharing a kiss with their lover.

#bella ramsey #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey x y/n #bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey fanfic #bella ramsey tlou

[lillotte17]

So, at one point after the season 1 release there was a post floating around somewhere with this idea that Crowley wrote Aziraphale letters and hid them in various books in his shop. I don't know how plausible that idea is, but I thought it was extremely cute, regardless. So, I wrote one of the letters!

It's just been hanging out on my computer for ages because I didn't know what to do with it. It's not really a fic. And I never feel like I get his voice quite right. BUT I still like it, so here you go. <3

~~

A,

You know that I am not very good with words. Well. Generally speaking, anyway. I wouldn't be even halfway decent at my job if I couldn't sell a line or two, but it turns out that it is much easier to talk someone else into going for something that part of them already wants deep down than it is to admit things that we might want for ourselves. Funny, that. 

At any rate, my point is that I am not going to sit here and write you a sonnet or something. Wouldn't even know how to go about it, truth be told. But I know that you seem to enjoy words, especially written ones, since you've set yourself up to be surrounded by them almost constantly, so I thought that this might be easier for both of us.

It doesn't feel easier.  

I understand why you didn’t want to help me the other day, really, I do. But you didn't even give me a chance to explain why I asked, so I'm asking you to listen now. Well…you know, read. Can't really listen to a letter, can you? Not yet, anyway. Who knows what humans will think of next.

From the moment we met, you have always been…something different. Something I didn't expect. In mostly good ways, though I suppose you can't help that. I think I was just curious to start with. Wanted to see what would happen if I poked at you a bit. I didn't expect you to be so…well. You.

We came to an understanding, and I told myself it was just business. Business and lunches. Business and lunches and the odd night out on the town. For someone who lies as much as I do, you'd think I'd be better at lying to myself. Sometimes I wish I was.

I've had a sneaking suspicion that I might actually like you for a frankly embarrassing amount of time, but it had only occurred to me recently that I am... we might…

I don't want things to change.

It's precarious to leave things the way they are, I know that. The people I work for are not known for their forgiveness, and yours have been known for dealing out their fair share of wroth as well. But I used to think that if things went south, I could just talk my way out of it and then avoid you however long until things died down again. I'm an optimist, you know.

But I don't want to avoid you. And our dealings have stepped beyond the scope of plausible deniability at this point. And if they come for me over that… I'm not sure what will happen. Nothing good, though, I'm certain. Maybe they’d kill me, maybe they wouldn’t. Hard to say which would be worse, really.  But I thought, if you helped me, I could put together a sort of fail-safe. Just something to give us me enough time to come up with a plan of action. Find a place to hide. Run off somewhere.

You could come with me. If you wanted.

I know you wouldn’t want to go now, of course. It’d be too big a change. Breaking all sorts of rules. I wouldn’t mind, though. Never did mind too much about breaking rules, as you so often like to remind me.

It’s just… I think you might be the only being in this whole cosmos that I’ve actually managed to make happy. A few times, anyway. Maybe. At least, you seem happy. Most of the time. When we aren’t having a row.

It was a shocking revelation; I can tell you. To imagine that I’d be any sort of good for someone. And that I might even enjoy being 'good' for someone.  It’s sort of nice though. And terrifying. And frustrating. I wasn’t really sure I was capable of this sort of thing. At least, not anymore. Maybe I never was. Maybe that’s why I ended up working the sort of job I’ve got.

The world is full of so many soft words for soft emotions and soft people. Bright ephemeral things. I can’t say they don’t suit you, but they aren’t enough either. Well, maybe ‘enough’ isn’t the word for it. They just…don’t fit exactly right. And how could they? Man can hardly conceive of a word for something that he has little no understanding of. Bet you thought I’d say it was ineffable.  I am not a good messenger for that sort of expression, regardless. Bit outside my wheelhouse.  Just the sort of thing I’d cock up, really.

Look, I don’t really know where to go with any of this. I can’t even fathom a reason why things might change between us. Well, I can, but none of the changes would be good. I only know that, as of right now, you are my best and oldest friend. Perhaps my only friend. And maybe that’s a small thing to most people. But not to me. To me it’s everything.

You’re everything.

But I can see now just how easy it would be for all of it to go wrong. And maybe a smarter person would take that as a sign to cut ties and move on to better things. Keep things safe and simple. Black and white. And maybe you should. I’m selfish, though, which I’m sure you’ve worked out already. And well… 

It’d be an awfully lonely world without you. 

Yours.

#good omens #crowley x aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale #fic #sort of?? #honestly i think if he wrote something he'd have to do it really fast before Big Feelings caught up with him #and it would be largely unintelligible #filled with blots and angry cross outs #but Aziraphale is absolutely POURING over these nonsense letters #like he does with Agnes Nutter's prophecies #because SOMEWHERE in this mess there is a truth he has been trying to get at for HUNDREDS of years #and he is going to FIND IT #And HANG IT IN A FRAME ON THE WALL #And NEVER let Crowley live it down for the rest of their existence

[dollslayer]

By Its Cover

Dark!Librarian!Steve Rogers x Shy!Reader, College AU

Summary: Your late nights at the university library spark a chain of events. Will they lead to your undoing? To anyone else's?

W/C: 8,890 (oops, sorry)

Warnings: DARK themes, NO MINORS, stalking, murder, minor character death, smut, angst, unprotected sex, oral sex, alcohol consumption, swearing

A/N: FINALLY, I wrote this for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor's 2 Years of Darkness challenge! This fic kicked my ass but after some months I'm so excited about it! This is my first truly dark fic so please don't read if any of these topics upset you but I do want to make a note that the sex is consensual. If I missed any warnings please DM me immediately and I will add them. Reblog/comment if you liked it! Maybe even check out some of my other fics 👀 Cheers!

Main Masterlist

You stumbled slightly on the uneven pavement as you made the final steps towards the graduate school library. It was always so much quieter than the undergrad library and at this hour there’d be a good chance it was just you and the poor person stuck working the overnight help desk. You didn’t mind that though, you were never an overly sociable person and you preferred to work alone anyways.

You swiped your student ID through the sensor and the little green light granted you entry as you opened the door. Looking around there wasn’t even someone at the desk, just the sound of the always-on A/C rattling the leaves of the fake plants in the lobby.

You moved to put your ID away when it slipped from your fingers and plapped onto the floor, your own face staring back up to you from the plastic. You sighed and swung your bag further back over your shoulder as you bent to pick it up when a pair of legs edged their way into your vision. Caught off guard by the man attached to them, you watched him bend to pick up the piece of plastic.

You both straightened back up to your full heights and you found yourself looking up at him. He had clear blue eyes and sandy blond hair that was swept back. He looked like he could be a model, he was so handsome and you felt like a deer in headlights.

You realized that he had your ID in his hand and was waiting patiently for you to take it. You smiled awkwardly and took it from him. He looked back to your card and read your name out loud and snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Thank you” you said more in surprise than gratitude “Sorry, I just, I could’ve sworn no one was here you came out of nowhere” You laughed nervously, hoping to hide your embarrassment. You were never good with talking to people and once a situation got awkward you just got yourself deeper in it.

“I was just coming around the corner when I noticed you dropped your ID. I actually work the late shift at the desk. Serves me right for applying last minute for work through the university, right?” He asked with a small laugh.

“Late night cram session? You look like your back’s about to snap from holding all those books” He pointed to your bag, the stitches of it’s straps were frayed and had been sewn over a couple of times.

“Yeah, I like coming here late, hardly anyone’s here, I don’t have to deal with people and I can just focus” You explained

“Right, well, sorry to keep you. If you need anything I’m Steve, and I’ll be bored out of my mind at the desk” he smirked and walked back towards reception.

You turned down the hall and thought how strange it was that you’d never seen him here before. It was the middle of the semester so he couldn’t have just started but you were in here all the time and you’d never run into him once. You brushed the thought off and continued on your way.

____

Over the next few weeks you and Steve developed a routine. You’d come in around 10 or 11, you’d stop at the desk and chat a bit and then you’d head up to your spot on the second floor to study. Occasionally Steve would see you when he returned books and you’d joke around a bit before he’d leave you to your work. You were building a good rapport with each other and he was pleased.

Sometimes he’d been too shy to approach you. It made him feel like the scrawny, helpless kid he was before the growth spurt. Beautiful girls like you never looked twice at him but he knows that you’re different, he knows that if you had met him then that you’d never treat him like those girls did. He knows that in time you two could really have something special.

Steve understood that building a relationship with you would take time and balance. He didn’t want to seem too eager but ever since he saw you he knew he’d do anything to just talk to you.

It started some months ago when he was visiting Bucky on campus. They had been hanging out in the quad right by a group of buildings when you tripped on the pavement and your books fell at his feet. He helped you up and even collected your books for you but you were too flustered and embarrassed to meet his eye. You eked out a thank you and scurried into the graduate library.

That moment sparked a blooming obsession within him. The following night he was still in town but he went out without Bucky and staked out where he’d been the previous night and watched you go to the library at the same time you had. The next two nights he did this and quickly pieced together your nightly routine.

Within a month's time he was set to transfer for the next semester and when he did he got a job working night shifts at the library. Bucky had asked him why on Earth he’d want that and Steve had shrugged him off, claiming that he wanted to be paid and didn’t want to deal with anyone. Seemed like a good enough reason to anyone else.

And so that’s how Steve found himself invading your personal space to hand you your ID. He enjoyed the way you trembled slightly in surprise. You looked so small next to him, looking up at him. He nearly forgot what he was going to say, feeling suddenly shy himself. You were so close to him and you were just as beautiful as he remembered.

Take it slow, he reminded himself.

____

Your apartment door slammed behind you as you stormed out of the building. You left in only what you were wearing which was a light hoodie and some leggings. You had thought to grab your book bag before you left and it kept knocking into your side with each angry step you took. Tears streaked your face but you tried your best to brush them off and continued on your brisk walk to the library.

You and your boyfriend had gotten into a fight and things got heated pretty fast, they always did with Sean. You had confronted Sean about being gone so often and so late, you’d missed him and wanted to spend time with you. That’s when he started getting defensive and turning your late nights at the library right around on you.

Things escalated to shouting and Sean had gotten so angry that he’d knocked over a pile of your books from the table. It had scared you and that’s when you left. You knew that you’d be getting nowhere with him when he was so angry. You wanted to be alone and needed a distraction so you grabbed your bag and headed for the library.

You secretly hoped Steve was working, it’d be nice to see a friendly face. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the tiniest crush on him. He’s handsome and funny and kind and he always knows when to give you space. You wish you’d met him at a different point in your life, you could really see yourself with him in another timeline. Maybe it was just easier to think that having just had a fight with Sean.

You swiped your card and waited patiently for the door to open. You could tell Steve had already spotted you and was looking at you as you passed through the glass doors. He was smiling his same boyish charm smile that made you feel even shier than you already were. You must’ve looked a mess but it was comforting to see him there waiting for you.

“There she is,” Steve said with a smile as he got up from his chair to greet you. His face immediately fell though as he took in the tracks of your tears and your puffy eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Steve looked upset and angry for you. You were touched, but you’d rather leave it.

“I’d rather not talk about it, if it’s okay. It’s nice to see you though, Steve. How’s your night?”

Steve’s jaw ticked but he swallowed and nodded and you were grateful he didn’t push it further.

“Uneventful as usual, it’s good to see you too, doll.”

You felt your cheeks heat at the nickname. If you were on better terms with Sean you’d feel bad but you couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but giggle.

You said your goodbye to Steve and made your way to the second floor to study.

Hours passed and you had your nose buried in a book when you felt a sudden presence. You looked up slowly behind you and shrieked when you found Steve just inches from you. He held his hands out defensively and tried to catch your breathing.

“Steve, oh my God, I didn’t see you there, you scared me!” You laughed as you caught your breath.

“Yeah, sorry, I uh, have a habit of doing that.” He said as he ducked his head sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. Was he blushing? Why did he look nervous?

“I, um. I was uh, I was hoping to maybe ah, ask you something, actually.” Steve swallowed thickly. He is nervous. You smiled at him and motioned for him to go on.

“I was thinking… maybe, when you’re free if um, would you maybe want to go to dinner? With me?” He stammered out.

You smiled and felt heat flood your cheeks all over again, Steve was gorgeous and you were flattered that someone like him would want to go out with you. Just as quickly as that flattery came dread had instantly replaced it. You had a boyfriend, you couldn’t do that to Sean. Oh God, now I have to turn him down. What if he hates me?

“Wow… I uh, Steve,” you started, “I’m. You’re so sweet, I don’t know what to say. But, I have a boyfriend, I’m really sorry”

“But- but don’t think I wouldn’t say yes, if I could. You’re such a nice guy and I’m really happy for our friendship. I hope this doesn’t make things weird between us, I’m. I’m sorry,” You quickly led up with. You felt so awkward and bad that you had to turn him down.

Steve’s jaw ticked and he looked away. A blush of embarrassment had made its way up his neck and into his cheeks. His fists clenched at his sides and he took a deep breath.

“It’s… It’s fine, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I don’t want things to be weird between us either. You know what? Why don’t we just forget the whole thing? Sorry again.” He finished with a tight lipped smile

You sent an uneasy smile back and nodded.

“Of course, no damage done, Steve.”

With that he left you and you went back to your book. You tried not to overthink the entire situation but couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable.

____

“Boyfriend” the word echoed in his head on a never ending loop with deafening reverb. He nodded curtly at you and smiled. You had your awkward exchange of apologies and excuses. Wordlessly, he made his way back to the information desk. He felt angry but also humiliated, he had spent at least a week building himself up to say something to you and you just turned him down so wholly?

He saw the way you looked at him, the way you laughed at his jokes. Steve knew that he meant more to you than you were letting on. There was attraction there, you were just in denial because you had a boyfriend.

Who even was this schmuck? You couldn’t have liked him that much because if you did then you would’ve mentioned him before but you hadn’t. If you really loved your boyfriend then you wouldn’t have smiled at Steve the way you did or stopped to say hello every night. He needed to see for himself whom exactly it was that was so undeserving of your attention.

Steve checked the cameras and saw that you were packing up your things. He had maybe a few minutes to gather his own things and wait for you. There was someone else coming to cover the library in 20 minutes, it would be fine if he left it alone until then. He decided to make himself scarce from the desk so you wouldn’t have to see him again before you left and you wouldn’t notice he’d be following you.

Waiting for the sound of the double doors to click shut he turned the corner and waited for just a minute. He slunk down the mainways of campus towards the student apartments and stopped just 20 yards away from you up against a wall. You looked so cold all alone in the dark as you buzzed in one of the numbers.

“1B, what the fuck could you possibly want at this hour?” a gruff voice answered over the comm.

“Baby, it’s me, sorry I forgot my keys but you weren’t responding to my texts so” You trailed off as you shivered in the night. No reply came, just the buzzer sounding off. You hurried inside and Steve tried his best to scope out external windows.

Finally the light came on in one of them and to his luck the blinds were mostly open. Through the vertical slats he could make out your entrance and an impeding figure from the hall. It was him, the boyfriend. The guy that was apparently so much better than Steve.

He saw your body language was tense and you opened your mouth to speak but before you could get a word in, your boyfriend was grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you. You looked surprised maybe, but you just let him grab you like that. You just fucking let him.

He watched from his spot against a pillar from the building across the walkway. He clenched his jaw and tried to control his breathing watching this guy, this boy manhandle you like you weren’t something special, something precious. He was disgusted but he couldn’t look away as your clothes were shirked off and you two fucked right there on the couch.

He couldn’t bring himself to watch anymore and stormed off. As he walked back to his place a plan began to form in the back of his mind.

____

Things with Sean were smoothed over. You didn’t really talk, so much as he just fucked you before you could even talk about it. He had kissed you on the cheek after and said he was sorry. So you figured that he was. You didn’t really feel like pushing it anyways.

You made for the library once again, anticipating a long night ahead of you with midterms around the corner.

You let out a shriek as you realized someone was standing over you. Steve was hovering right above you, looking even taller than he already was. You pushed your chair back to get some distance between yourself and him while you caught your breath from the momentary scare.

“Steve, I uh, sorry I didn’t hear you coming, again.”

He leaned himself against the edge of the table and crossed his arms. How had you not realized he was so muscular before? You flushed and scolded yourself for thinking about him like that. You had a boyfriend and Steve was just the nice guy at the library.

He ducked his head shyly and waved your apology off.

“Sorry, guess I’m just sneaky.” He chuckled in amusement but the feeling wasn’t mutual, “I was just up here returning some books when I realized I missed you coming in, thought I’d come say hi.”

“Right,” you replied, “Guess we just missed each other. How’s the desk tonight?”

“Bored to tears as usual, just glad you’re here tonight”

Steve winked at you and you felt your cheeks get hot again and you looked away with a small laugh.

“You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

“Ah that’s not true.” He paused, “I get nervous all the time around pretty girls like you”

You were really in it now. Your cheeks heated instantly and you had to look away from him again. For someone that just got rejected he doesn’t stay down for long. How the hell were you going to talk your way out of this one? He knows you have a boyfriend, why would he say that?

“Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.” Oh, thank God.

He begins to walk back to his cart before spinning on his heel one last time.

“Hey, I forgot to ask. You’re pretty good with art history, right?”

You nod cautiously, afraid that you know where this is going.

“Well, as of right now I’ve got a C. I was wondering if you’d be willing to meet on one of my nights off here and help me out?”

“O-oh. Yeah, of course. No problem. I’m sure Sean wouldn’t mind.”

You were too nice for your own good, saying yes before really thinking it all through. You only realized you had after the words left your mouth so you mentioned Sean to save yourself a bit.

Steve’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at you.

“Awesome, you’re the best. Maybe we can get together at that cafe on 3rd next Tuesday around noon?”

“Of course, I’ll be there” You confirm.

____

Tuesday couldn’t come soon enough for Steve. He didn’t need any help in art history, he was averaging about an 87, actually. But when you turned him down he knew he had to find another way to get closer to you and he knew that you’d say yes out of pressure.

All in all things were going pretty well for Steve. Despite your shy nature he’d managed to get closer to you much quicker than he expected. He loved watching you get flustered whenever he was close, finding it hard not to get flustered himself. He was impatient for things to move forward but he knew it would all pan out. There was only one wrench in the plan; your boyfriend Sean.

The other night when Steve had followed you home and witnessed Sean manhandle you in your apartment he began thinking of how to remove him from the picture. Steve did his research on Sean and found it suspicious he couldn’t find anything on him. Usually after a little digging you can find something off about anyone, but not him. Steve knew it would take a little more effort, but for you he’d make it.

So that’s how Steve wound up spending his night off in the corner of the dive bar that was just off campus. Off campus enough that you’d need to drive there. He had tailed Sean’s Jeep there after his club soccer game in hopes of finding something he could actually use to justify getting rid of him for you. He groused as he pulled into the parking garage across the street and pocketed his parking stub. He waited a few beats and watched Sean leave his car.

He slinked in the door and grabbed a dimly lit corner booth. The residue of whatever cleaner this place used was causing his forearms to stick to the table at his booth and the air stunk of vape smoke. He was surrounded by other 20-somethings, awkward Tinder hookups and frat bros meeting up to blow off steam.

On the opposite side of the room he spotted Sean, watched him as he approached the bar for another pint. He’d followed him here in hopes of getting some sort of information on him that he could use. After an hour of nursing one beer and absolutely nothing happening with Sean Steve had been ready to give up.

Just as he was getting ready to down the rest of his drink the door had opened and in walked a girl around his age. She looked nervous but excited as she looked around the place. She nearly squealed as she rushed over when she found who she was looking for. A smile slowly crawled across Steve’s face as the girl rushed into Sean’s arms and embraced him with a kiss. This is exactly what Steve needed to get him out of the picture.

Steve discreetly took out his phone and snapped a few photos, even got a video of them kissing again. He figured this would be enough to blackmail Sean into leaving you. Getting what he needed, he grabbed his jacket and left the bar. He felt light as a feather walking home, his plan was finally setting into motion and it wouldn’t be long until you were together.

Tuesday had finally come and Steve’s good mood only carried over. He practically skipped to the coffee shop you two had agreed to meet at. He grabbed a table and waited for you. When he saw you open the door he was grinning ear to ear but his expression quickly changed taking in your appearance. You looked exhausted, like you’d been crying again. This wouldn’t do.

“What’s wrong? Is it your boyfriend again?” Steve asked.

You nodded silently and set down your bag with a huff.

“He’s just been out really late lately, I feel like he’s never home. Then again I’m always out late.”

“Well I’m glad you’re a night owl, otherwise we wouldn’t have met” Steve tried to turn the conversation back to them and to keep it positive.

“I guess you’re right. You didn’t order anything?” You frowned, noticing his empty hands.

“I was waiting for you, it’s my treat.” You opened your mouth to protest but Steve was quick to add, “Don’t even try to argue with me on this one.”

You sighed but ultimately relented, following him to the counter. He let you order first.

“Um, just a small hot chocolate please, thank you so much”

Steve thought it was cute that you didn’t drink caffeine, he knew hot chocolate was your drink of choice. He knew this of course from hours of pouring over every profile of yours he could find on the internet. He even found your tumblr you were just sure nobody knew about. Turns out you’ve got quite the dirty mind. But that was a thought for another day. Steve turned back to the counter and ordered black coffee and paid the bill.

With drinks in hand you made your way back to your table and settled in for an afternoon of art history. It went smoothly overall and Steve even got you to laugh a few times. He’d perfectly played his balance of pretending not to know about the subject while seeming to be learning what you were teaching. He could tell you felt proud of yourself for accomplishing something and he was happy he could make you feel that way. He was sure he was the only one that could.

You called it a day and said your goodbyes, you went in for an awkward hug which Steve accepted wholeheartedly. He’d even managed to finally snag your number so you two could work out more study times. Maybe you were coming around much easier than he anticipated. He smiled to himself and on the walk home began to devise a plan to get rid of Sean. It’d only be a matter of days if everything went accordingly.

____

You were basking in the rare day off, taking every moment to enjoy doing absolutely nothing. You’d felt drained lately from your class workload, late nights at the library, and your elevating fights with Sean. He was at work today followed by an evening class so you had uninterrupted alone time. Around 10pm it took every ounce of your free will to get off the couch and get the mail.

You milled over to your box and jammed the key in. Pulling the mail out your head titled in curiosity at the large unmarked manila folder. No return address written, only yours but there was nothing indicating whether it was for you or Sean. You’d open it when you got back upstairs.

Finally back to your spot on the couch your fingers slowly undid the folder’s metal clasp and you reached inside for its contents. Out came several photos and a hastily written note. You held the grainy photos closer to your face to make out what they were. When you did your heart plummeted and you went into emotional shock.

Though the photos were grainy it was very clear what they were of. Shots of Sean and some mystery brunette making out in a bar. Sean with his arm around her waist, Sean with his hand on her ass. All the photos were timestamped for only a few days ago when he claimed his soccer game was running late. You dropped them instantly and they scattered to the floor.

Your heart was hammering in your ears, you didn’t know what to think. Sean was the only boyfriend you’d ever really had, Sean loved you, you loved him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you remembered there was a note. You searched for it and tried to read it through the tears that were beginning to blur your vision.

‘I know what you did. You tell her or I will. You have three days’

You didn’t recognize the handwriting. Who would send this? Why would they send it? You and Sean didn’t have many friends and you couldn’t picture them doing this. Maybe this is some prank? Maybe the timestamp is wrong and this is before you were together.

Sean was all you’d ever known and you shared an apartment, it’s not like you’d have anywhere to go or anyone to turn to. Should you confront him with these? It’s not like you two were exactly good at solving your problems. Would he leave you if you showed him these? What then?

Your mind was spinning, unsure of what to do with this new information. Maybe you could keep quiet about this, try to spend some more time with Sean, make him see what the two of you have. Maybe you can ask him to be home more, maybe you could be home more too.

You took a deep breath and wiped your tears before you gathered the photos and put them back into the envelope. You decided you’d hold onto them for now, tucking them away in your drawer of the dresser. Deciding you’d just work yourself up if you stayed up you shot Sean a text goodnight and went to bed.

Morning came and he was snuggled into your side, the comfort you felt had you feeling like everything might be okay for a moment. You stayed in bed just a little longer and turned so he could hold you in his arms. Your heart felt so unsure and scared, but you didn’t know what else you could do.

The week passed by and you decided to shift more of your energy towards your relationship with Sean, pushing your nights at the library to the backburner. You still hadn’t told him about the envelope but you did tell him you missed him and wished he was home more. He relented and was home four nights this week instead of his usual two.

The time together was uncomfortable but you kept telling yourself that things were getting a little better over time, even if your studies were suffering for it. As the week went on you were able to suppress your doubts about your relationship a bit more. Sean loved you and you loved him.

You couldn’t ignore the oncoming threat of midterms forever, though. The last thing you wanted was to be alone because you knew that your thoughts would just spiral but you needed to do well this semester so you grabbed your bag and headed out.

You swipe through the doors, almost looking forward to seeing Steve. You’d blown off your study session with a profuse apology so you could be with Sean. You were eager to apologize in person but found the reference desk to be completely abandoned. You frowned, maybe Steve was putting away books or something. You’d see him eventually though, for now you had an essay to write.

Hours could have gone by and you wouldn’t have known. You were getting so much done though, it felt good to be focused on something other than your own thoughts.

“Where’ve you been?”

You jump in your seat. You turn around to find Steve emerging from the shelves that were just out of your view. He wore a neutral expression but you could cut the tension with a knife. He stepped forward and you debated on what to say.

“Sorry, I had to cancel with you this week. How are you getting along?”

“Nothing another tutoring session couldn’t fix, I’m sure. Were you sick? I feel like you haven’t been here in forever. The nights get awful lonely without ya here”

Why did Steve keep making statements like that when he knew you had a boyfriend? It was driving you insane and getting harder to ignore them.

“Um, no, I was with Sean, actually. But y’know, can’t avoid midterms forever” You gave a half-hearted laugh hoping to lighten things up.

Steve’s neutral expression is slipping, but you can’t tell if he’s angry or not. But his face broke out into a small smile, putting you at ease instantly. He clapped you on the shoulder and took a step back.

“Yeah, guess you’re right. We still on for Tuesday?”

You gave him an easy smile and nodded.

“I’ll be counting the days” With that Steve disappeared back between the shelves.

____

The moment Steve placed the envelope in the mail he felt a confidence he hadn’t felt before. All he had to do was wait for you to open the envelope and everything would take its course. He knew Sean was at work and you’d be the one to get the mail that day. From his spot he’d peered in your windows all those weeks ago he watched you open the photos. You dropped them to the ground and held a hand to your mouth to cover what looked like a sob. Steve smiled to himself, now all you had to do was leave him.

The week went on and Steve figured you might need a little time to break it off and he’d be there at the library, waiting to comfort you. It’s not like you had any other friends in your life to turn to. But then you cancelled your study session with no explanation. Steve figured maybe you were still in shock, needed to cry it out alone. Then two days turned to four turned to seven.

Steve was confused, he was infuriated even. Why hadn’t you come to the library yet? Why hadn’t you texted him? There’s no way that you were actually going to stay with him after you saw him with another woman. Except that’s exactly what he did.

Looking back on it Steve recognized his mistakes. He knew you were shy and meek, sweet, it’s what he loved about you. But he should’ve accounted for this to happen. You were too sweet for your own good, wanting to make it work with Sean. It was an obstacle he hadn’t seen but this is just a slight bump in the plan. He can work around it.

When he saw you coming up the steps on the security camera he made himself scarce, not ready to face you just yet. He gave you some hours to study before he made himself known to you. He could tell just by the way you talked that you were in complete denial about what was happening. You weren’t strong enough to leave him but that’s okay, Steve is strong enough for the both of you right now, he’ll help you get there.

____

Just when you thought things were getting better Sean was back to becoming distant, going out with his teammates and coming home still a little drunk. The more you thought about those photos and thought about how he slipped back into old habits so easily the more you were working up the courage to confront him. You weren’t sure if you’d leave him, but maybe it would make him change.

Then the second envelope came. More photos of them kissing and leaving the bar together. They were time stamped just two nights ago. Your heart fell through the floor as you tried to make sense of things. How much of this could you put up with? When was enough? You needed to confront him when he got home.

You texted him to try to come home early tonight, saying it was important. You spent the rest of the evening planning out your words and trying to quell the oncoming panic attacks. Time passed by in a blur and before you knew it it was midnight and you still had no word from Sean. You couldn’t spend one more minute alone, you needed to get out. You needed a friend.

Your body was on autopilot as your feet carried you up the steps of the library. Steve wasn’t at the desk and you felt almost distressed. You knew he’d be a good third party to talk all this out to and you didn’t know what to think when he wasn’t there. You decided to shoot him a text.

‘Hey, I know you usually work Thursdays, I’ll be at my usual spot, I could really use a friend if you’re not too busy’ Did that sound too desperate? At this point you didn’t care.

You sunk down into your chair on the second floor with a huff. You hadn’t brought your bag so it’s not like you could study to distract yourself. As it turned out you didn’t need to.

“I’m never too busy for you, doll. ‘Specially not at this job” Steve’s voice carried as he rounded a corner into your sight.

You felt instantly better before you realized you were crying. It was hard to be vulnerable but if you could trust anyone with this it was Steve. You gave him a weak smile as he pulled up a chair beside you.

“What’s wrong? Do you need tissues?”

“No, sorry, I just.” You were struggling to find the words. “Sean is cheating on me”

Steve’s hands clenched into fists, he looked absolutely furious for you.

“Are you serious? That bastard! Doll, I’m so sorry. Have you confronted him?” His hand reached for yours and his thumb rubbed light circles.

“I-I, I haven’t said...anything. I just. He loves me y’know? Why would he do that? He’s all I have? What happens if he leaves me where will I stay I’ll be completely alone, I’ll-”

You had worked yourself into a panic attack as you desperately tried to take gulps of air while tears streamed down your face. You were losing touch with your surroundings and spiraling into a place you couldn’t get yourself out of. Steve moved his chair closer to you and brought you into his lap. He held your back to his chest and wrapped his arms around you. You could just make out what he was saying.

“Doll, it’s okay, I need you to breathe with me, can you do that? Take a deep breath in with me. Hold it and count to five with me,” You do but you’re still struggling. “Now exhale, count again for me. You’re doing so well, you can do this.”

Eventually Steve is able to bring you back down to Earth and you slumped back into his arms. You don’t care that Steve is holding you, it feels safe. You shifted so you could lean your head against his chest and let out a heavy sigh. He holds you to himself and lets you sit there for a while.

You don’t know how much time passes but you sit up slowly and he’s reluctant to let you go. You wipe your eyes as you go back to your own chair.

“Sorry, I’m keeping you from your job. Sorry I just totally came here and freaked out” You were starting to feel embarrassed, oversharing your life and emotions with him. You really liked him, you didn’t want to think you’d ruined the friendship.

“Don’t even apologize. You can always come to me.” He gave you a warm smile and you felt reassured. “So what are you going to do about Sean?”

Another hour had gone by with Steve and you could see the sun starting to come through the windows. You had decided you would confront him and go from there. You weren’t ready to fully commit to leaving him but this needed to end one way or another. For the first time in two weeks you felt like things were maybe going to be okay. The next time you saw Sean you were going to confront him.

____

Clearly seeing that you weren’t going to do anything after he sent the photos, he had to go to plan B. Steve waited outside the practice field and followed him to the parking structure once again. He jammed the parking stub in his jacket pocket along with the others and repeated his previous trips here. It was astounding how unaware Sean was of his surroundings, Steve had followed him and that girl from the bar back to her place at least twice now.

Getting what he needed he put another envelope in the mail the next day, this time with no note but the photos were more upsetting. It hurt Steve to hurt you but it’s what needed to be done. You were never going to confront him with things as they were so he had to push the envelope, literally and metaphorically. The hurt would be worth it though, because you came crying to him just like he’d hoped you would. Seeing your text warmed his heart, you needed him and he’d be there. Every time.

He knew he’d be comforting you but he didn’t think that he’d get to hold you. He was hiding his smile as he wrapped his arms around you and brought you down from your panic attack. You did so well listening to him and calming down. He was convinced he was the only one that could help you, you just needed to see that.

Steve abandoned his cart of books that needed to be shelved but he couldn’t care less. He’d stay up all night with you every night if that’s what it took. As dawn broke the two of you devised a plan and he built you up to say something. You weren’t committed to leaving him, which Steve wasn’t happy about, but you were committed to confronting him, if only you’d get the chance.

Based on what Steve knew of both yours and Sean's schedules you’d just miss each other between classes during the day and Sean had a game tonight, which would inevitably lead to a night at the bar. All Steve had to do was wait. He had to contain his excitement, things were finally finally falling right into place, they just needed a final push.

Nightfall came and this time Steve beat Sean to the structure. Steve parked on the top level and stuck the parking stub in his pocket. He didn’t feel like he was taking a risk by counting on Sean to follow routine, he was a good boy, he’d park in his same spot he always did and proceed to get wasted across the street.

A slow smile creeped across Steve’s face as Sean and his teammates stumbled into the bar, probably already drunk from pre-gaming. Sean’s sidepiece wouldn’t come to the bar tonight, her sorority having some dumb mixer or another. Steve reminded himself of his mantra to wait. His phone buzzed and he saw it was a text from you. You two had been texting after you came to him in the library.

‘He’s not responding to my texts. I know he had a game tonight but I really thought he’d be here’

He’d have to text you back another time, Steve needed to be on his toes tonight. He sat at what was becoming his usual booth for nearly two hours, barely touching his pint. Finally Sean paid his tab and said goodnight to his friends. Steve pulled down the brim of his hat and pursued him towards the parking structure. Drunken and fumbling up through the stairwell, Steve entered behind him quietly while taking out a knife he’d stolen from Bucky. He always knew his friend’s strange obsession with them would come in handy someday.

Just as Sean was about to take the final step Steve grabbed him from behind. Sean’s reactions may have been slowed but it hadn’t stopped him trying to thrash out of the grip. His efforts stopped immediately as Steve held the blade to his throat. He spoke clearly and in a low voice.

“Keep walking up the stairs or I will slit your fucking throat, do you hear me?” He brought the knife closer to his neck to drive home the threat.

“E-easy man, please, please don’t do this”

“Keep moving. Up.”

Steve pushed him all the way towards his car at the edge of the top level. He flipped Sean around so his back was to the ledge, the knife still trained closely on him. Pleads for mercy fell on deaf ears.

“What do you wan’!? You wan’ money!? Take, take my wallet man I don’t need it, jus’ please don’t kill me please!”

Steve pushed him slightly, though his grip on him remained tight. Sean struggled against him as his body weight wavered over the ledge. He must have realised how far up they were because he started crying at this point, begging even harder as he teetered and trying desperately to get his bearings against the wall.

“Why are you doing this!?” He wailed, “I’ll do anything, please! Please, I have a girlfriend, I have a family”

That was all that it took. Steve was feeling a high like he’d never felt. He knew at this moment he was doing the right thing for both of you. With a rush of adrenaline and in a flash of certainty he pushed Sean’s body over the edge. He didn’t watch him fall the seven stories down to the ground, but he did wait to hear the sickening crack and thud of his body hitting the ground. There was no way he’d survived.

Blood rushing through his ears, he felt euphoric, so powerful, so in love with you. He climbed back into his car and headed for his apartment. His plan wasn’t quite complete yet though, but everything he needed to do was done. He could watch the rest unfold from the sidelines. He knows you’ll be heartbroken all over again when you find out, but he’ll be there to pick up the pieces.

____

You’d been in mourning for nearly two months. The shock you’d felt wasn’t comparable to any other feeling you’d felt. The police ultimately ruled his death an accident, they performed an autopsy and found dangerous amounts of alcohol in his system. They weren’t able to pinpoint an exact time of death but estimated 2-3 AM, as he’d been found in the morning. They figured he’d just gotten piss drunk and came too close to the edge. And he was gone just like that.

His death weighed heavy on you, you blamed yourself for a long time. He wouldn’t have stayed out if you hadn’t pushed him so far away from you. The last thing you ever said to him was nagging and whiny, no wonder he didn’t want to come home. To think that you were possibly going to leave him. You felt so much self-contempt but slowly you were learning to forgive yourself.

You don’t know what you’d have done without Steve by your side. He was there for you every step of the way. He held you at the funeral, he helped you pack up Sean’s things in the apartment, he took your late night phone calls and came over at the drop of a hat to help you through your grief. You were eternally grateful for his selflessness and his willingness to help you heal.

Guilt loomed over you once again as the old feelings you’d had for Steve in the early days of your friendship started to flare up again. It felt natural to feel them, with him being closer to you than he ever was, but it didn’t stop you from feeling shame over it. You had to remind yourself that you weren’t culpable for anything that happened, that Sean himself was interested in someone else when he’d died. You had to forgive yourself for these feelings for Steve. Maybe even pursue them.

‘Can you come over tonight? I think we should talk’ Your nerves were on fire from the rush you got sending him that text.

‘How about you come to my place? 7? We can go for something to eat if you want.’ Your heart was fluttering, was this a date?

‘Sounds good :)’

Checking the time you saw it was 4, you spent the next few hours obsessing over what to say. No matter what you were determined to tell him your feelings for him. You were debating whether or not you should kiss him. Would he even want you back? What if he only sees you as a friend now? The hours whiled away and you took a deep breath before setting out.

You’d been to Steve’s apartment only once before, you knew he lived alone but he’d managed to make the place feel homey. You were buzzed in and before you had the chance to knock on the door Steve had it open and was waiting for you. His smile was all teeth and it was contagious, you smiled back looking up at him and he let you in.

You sat down on the couch and waited for Steve. No turning back now. Deep breath. He sat down and turned to face you.

“What did you want to talk about?”

No words were coming to you. Your mouth opened but you could only sputter. Oh God, where were the words? Do something!

So you did. Before you could think about it you put a shaky hand up to Steve’s jaw and pulled him in for a kiss. You didn’t know what you were feeling, you were just waiting for Steve to respond. You began to pull back but before you could he took your face in his hands and kissed you back tenderly but with purpose. Your arms were around him and he pulled you closer into his lap to kiss you more passionately.

You finally pulled apart to catch your breath. You snuck a look up to his face and you were nervous but you felt like you were floating.

“You have… no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that” He said between breaths.

You two smiled like idiots and he brought his lips to yours again. The kiss deepened and a moan slipped from your mouth. This seemed to spark something in Steve and his hands shakily moved over your body. He was feeling every curve of you and you ground down into his lap and his hips bucked up in response. You have no idea where this confidence came from but you’d never felt more sure of yourself. You broke apart again and Steve was breathing heavily.

“Is this what you want?” He asked. You could only nod before he was on you again. He pulled you up from the couch and led you to his bed. This time he laid you back and was hovering over you, slowly undoing the buttons of your jeans. You helped him get yourself out of them and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. How was this happening? Who cares?

He sat back and took the sight of you in, he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing. He slowly removed his clothes and moved back over you, kissing his way up your thighs before pulling your panties down your legs. He continued laving away at your skin, making you nervous but excited. His fingers brushed your core and he brought them up to his face.

“Sweetheart, you are dripping.” Your cheeks heated instantly as he chuckled. Not giving you the chance to respond he dove right in. Two fingers entered you and you arched your back, his tongue lapped up your wetness and then at your clit. You’d really never known pleasure like this, no one had ever done this for you before. His fingers pumped in and out of you and your hands flew to his hair and pulled. He continued on and curved his fingers just slightly and you clenched down around him, you were so close.

“Please, I’m so close” you whimpered.

Steve doubled his efforts and before you knew it the tension he had been building up was released in a white hot flash of ecstasy. You writhed against his fingers as he kept pumping them into you. Finally he relented, pulling them out and licking them clean. You’d never seen something that made you feel so filthy but so so good.

He took off his boxers and encased you in his arms. He kissed your neck and you moaned again at the feeling. You spread yourself for him and he lined himself up and groaned. The stretch was something you weren’t ready for. It burned almost, you cried out as he put his whole length in you. He waited all of two seconds before he began thrusting into you. You weren’t ready but you were adjusting quickly with the way his cock hit that spot inside of you over and over.

You were holding onto his shoulders, nails digging in deep as he started to go harder and faster.

“I’m close” He panted into your ear.

Reaching down his fingers found your clit and started moving back and forth quickly, trying to match his thrusts. The tension was building again to a breaking point and you were getting close again. He worked you even harder until you broke, cumming for a second time. Your eyes were screwed shut in ecstasy as you cried again.

“Steve!”

That was all it took before he slammed into you a final time, you could feel his release and you’d never felt closer to him. His movements stopped and your noses touched. He kissed you hard before rolling off of you.

“That was… oh my god” you breathed.

“I know, me too” Steve chuckled. “So can I take you to dinner?”

“Nothing would make me happier,” You grinned wide and nodded.

You cleaned yourself up and redressed. You were taking in Steve’s room and found yourself smiling at the photos of him and Bucky, little knick-knacks on his dresser. You found a sticky note on the calendar at his desk. You squinted. Had you seen his handwriting before?

You shrugged and flopped yourself back on the bed. You checked the weather on your phone and frowned at the temperature, you let out a small groan.

“What is it?” Steve called from the bathroom as he cleaned up.

“It’s so coooold and I forgot my jacket” You pouted.

“Just take mine, it’s the brown leather one hanging in the living room” He was so sweet.

Gingerly, you made your way into the living room and found the jacket, slipping it on. You don’t know what was taking Steve so long but you shoved your hands in the pockets and waited for him. You felt something in the right pocket. Is this trash? You pulled out little wadded up pieces of paper and unfolded them.

They were parking stubs. They were from the same structure that Sean had fallen from. Your heart was pounding, upset just thinking of him. Looking closer one of them was stamped for 2:15 AM, 2/1, the night that he died. Okay...

1 AM 1/15, 11:57PM 1/28, They matched the timestamp on the photos that had been sent to you. Two others were from nights when Sean had games and had stayed out late. Your heart was in your throat and tears were forming in your eyes, trying to find some explanation. You thought again of the first time you’d received an envelope, those photos, that note. It had dawned on you why the note looked so familiar… The handwriting! Oh, God... Your whole world slowed down as you heard footsteps bound into the room. Slowly you turned, the stubs still in your shaking hands.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Steve took a step further, “You weren’t supposed to see those.”

#dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #college AU #librarian AU #steve rogers x reader #marvel x reader #dark!marvel #stalker!steve rogers #smut #angst #dark fic #dark marvel fics #dark mcu #twoyearsofdark

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 17 - Bad Habit [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Everyone needs help sometimes.

Series Masterlist

It wasn’t that there weren’t any spies who didn’t lie to their superiors.

There just weren’t any spies who lied to their superiors and lived to tell the tale, especially on high stakes missions like these.

You tried to convince yourself that the General would never find out, but that wasn’t the only reason why you were freaking out. Putting false information on your report was bad, yes, but the worst part was that you were beginning to find it harder and harder to report whatever information you found out about your fake boyfriend.

For some reason, you had a feeling it wouldn’t just stop at one lie.

Your eyes opened as you snapped out of your sleep all of a sudden and you took a look at the window, but it was still dark outside. That wasn’t the problem, the problem was that you had gone to sleep with Bucky by your side but now you were in an empty bed.

“Bucky?” you whispered into the darkness and sat up in the bed. After kicking off the covers, you made your way to the living room but as soon as you got there, he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you.

“Hey,” you whispered, “Are you okay? Are the bandages too tight?”

He pressed a hand over his side to check the bandage, then shook his head.

“No, no…” he said, “Did I wake you up?”

“Nope,” you said, “Is the bed too uncomfortable?”

“The opposite.”

You tilted your head “The bed is too…comfortable?”

He let out a small bitter chuckle and ran a hand over his face as you stepped into the room, then sat down on the floor as well.

“I’m not really used to…” he waved a hand to motion around you, “It’s not familiar to be comfortable.”

Ah.

Of course. You should’ve seen it coming, he was a soldier and coming back home was always so hard for soldiers, especially in Bucky’s situation.

You had so many nightmares after bad missions, you had no idea how you would sleep if you had anything close to what he had been through.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked and he shook his head again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I was hoping this wouldn’t happen.”

“Don’t be,” you murmured, “Do you want to be alone?”

“No,” he paused for a moment, “Please stay.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you pushed your hair behind you ear, taking a look at the pillow and the throw on the couch, then grabbed them and put them on the floor.

“Y/N, you’re not sleeping on the floor.”

You rushed to the bedroom to grab your pillows and the blanket off the bed, then went back to the living room.

“What are you doing?”

“It’ll be fun,” you said, putting the pillows and blanket on the floor. “Like we’re outside, only not with…annoying bugs.”

“You’re not serious.”

You plopped down the floor and gave him a bright smile. “I am!”

“Darling….” He started but shook his head with a sigh as you lay on your side, pulling the blanket over your shoulders.

“I’m very stubborn, you’re wasting your time if you’re trying to change my mind,” you informed him and he shot you a small smile, then lay down as well. You entwined your fingers with his, then looked up at the ceiling.

“My virtue is so screwed,” you pointed out, making him huff out a laughter.

“Oh absolutely.”

“I mean, there goes my hopes of…” you trailed off, “White picket fence house and puffy skirts and homemade pies.”

“What, you don’t want them with me?” he asked and your heart skipped a beat, then you stole a look at him.

“Can you even imagine that?”

“Yes I can.”

“I think I picture a movie,” you said, “There’s this….big yard, and white picket fences and we painted the house white but the door is red.  And there’s a dog and— feel free to stop me anytime, Bucky.”

“Don’t,” he smiled as if picturing what you were describing made him happy, “Just keep going.”

“We have a rescue dog,” you said, “We got him from a shelter and named him… um, we named him something funny.”

“Is it a big dog?”

“Yeah and you take him on a run every night. Mornings with me, nights with you.”

“That’s a good schedule.”

“He likes me better.”

“Ouch,” his smile widened, “I don’t blame him.”

You hummed, “And you have a mustache I think.”

He shot you a look, “If you say a Clark Gable mustache…”

“I’m just putting it out there—”

“Nope. Not gonna happen.”

“Fine,” you let out a laugh, “And we have an apple tree in the garden. Wait no— we have an apple tree and a peach tree.”

“How big is the garden?”

“Not so big,” you said, “Like in those movies.”

He paused for a moment and you stole a look at him.

“You wanted a big garden?”

“Well,” he said, “We need a big garden for the treehouse.”

“We have a treehouse?”

“Depends,” he said slowly, as if he was intimidated, “Kids love treehouses.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of having kids with him, for the hundredth time the image of a happier future where you weren’t a spy flashing in front of your eyes. You tried to stop the smile pulling at your lips.

“Yeah,” you said, “I think our kids would love them too.”

You could see the ghost of a smile on his face as he rubbed his thumb over your hand.

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” you yawned, “And in summer we would put a bouncy house thing in the garden and we would put a hammock between the peach tree and the apple tree and we would relax there while the kids are wreaking havoc in the bouncy house.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, sleep luring you as you closed your eyes, taking in his scent, “Sounds like a good plan.”

                                                           ***

You really didn’t have time to second guess yourself today. Yes you had lied to the General and spent the whole night with Bucky imagining an impossible future but now, you had to keep your head in the game.

You would figure out what you would do. Eventually.

This was a mission. You had to start acting like it.

“I don’t think I like this one,” you called out from the dressing room and in a second, the door opened to reveal Chloe who raised her brows.

“Wow.”

You tilted your head and stepped outside to look at yourself better. The gold body chain wrapped around the lingerie gleamed under the shop’s bright lights and you fixed the suspenders, clicking your tongue.

“Nah. I don’t think so.”

“Wow,” she said again, “I hate you so much, why do you look so hot in lingerie?”

“Chloe, every woman looks hot in lingerie,” you said as you walked back to the dressing room to try the next lingerie set. It was a red lace bodysuit and after a moment of struggle, you got into it, and opened the door again.

“Not this one either.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to sleep with him!” Chloe squealed, “Are you excited?”

You cleared your throat, “It’s just a mission.”

“Yeah but you want to sleep with him?”

“The dude is hot.”

“Y/N.”

“What?” you fixed your hair and frowned at your reflection, “Nope. I don’t like this. It’s too….meh.”

“I doubt Barnes would say meh if he saw you in this,” she said, “He’d probably pass out. You look like you’re about to grab your whip or something. Oh— Y/N, you should like tie him up or something! If we’re not going full on vintage, show him the modern fun times!”

You shot her a look, “Something tells me he doesn’t like to be tied up Chloe.”

“Why not?”

“Uh, because HYDRA scumbags tied him up a lot and he still has nightmares about it?”

“Ah,” she said, “I forgot about that. Hey, maybe he could tie you up!”

“I’ll tell you the same thing I said to Julian when he suggested I called him sir in bed,” you stated, “No thank you, I don’t do that sub thing.”

“Now I kind of wish we specified your cover’s kinks,” she heaved a sigh, “It’d make things so much easier.”

“My cover likes to be in control.”

“No, real you likes to be in control,” she corrected you, “Nothing about your cover says control.”

“Chloe—“ you started but stopped talking when the shop assistant approached you.

“Do you find it to your liking?”

“Um, not exactly,” you said, “I mean I like the color but overall—“

“Do you have bridal sets?” Chloe cut you off and your eyes widened.

“Easy there.”

“Like maybe soft pastel tones…. The whole thing though, garter belt and stockings and everything.”

“Of course!” she said, “We have some new arrivals, let me bring them here.”

“Chloe!” you whispered as the shop assistant walked away, “What the fuck?”

“Think about the dresses we picked for your cover,” she said, “Soft pastels. It makes sense that your cover would pick those shades in lingerie too.”

“Bridal? Really?”

“I mean, Barnes will want to propose you right there when he sees you in them so…” she grinned at you while you narrowed your eyes at her, “Come on! I’m very curious about how he is in bed.”

You tilted your head, “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” you asked, “Because love triangles are so early 2000s.”

“Hilarious,” she deadpanned, “And no. My type is more—relaxed. Less serious.”

You scoffed and leaned back on the wall, crossing your arms, “You could just say Keith.”

She shifted her weight, biting on her lip. “I mean…” she trailed off, “He still doesn’t make a move though.”

“Why don’t you make a move?”

“I could never!” she gasped, “Nope. Ever. Besides, I thought you were against me dating spies.”

“I am,” you admitted, “But it’s your love life. If you want to date a guy who has an extremely dangerous job and worry about whether or not he will come back to you alive….”

“You’re very romantic, Y/N,” she said as the assistant came closer, holding the set. Even you had to admit, it looked very sexy and beautiful at the same time, with soft pastel lace adorning the fabric, and you took a look at the basque, then walked inside.

“Besides, you’re the one to talk.” Chloe called out as you got into the lingerie, then ran your fingers over the garter belt.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Your boyfriend does dangerous stuff too.”

“Fake boyfriend,” you corrected her, fixing the basque, and as soon as your reflection caught your eye, you raised your brows.

“Okay, maybe you had a point,” you admitted and opened the door, and Chloe grinned at you.

“See,” she said, “This is what I was talking about.”

You smirked at her and leaned on your hip, still looking in the mirror.

“Fine, I like this one.”

“Told you,” she sang and you crossed your arms.

“What dangerous stuff has he been doing lately?”

“He was texting with Wilson about some HYDRA person,” Chloe said, “Apparently they want to go after him. Tonight.”

“What HYDRA person?”

“No clue. And we can’t send a team because then it’ll be obvious— Y/N, I know that look,” she shook her head fervently, “No.”

You tried to look as innocent as possible, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You want to go after the same HYDRA person as them, but you have specific orders and we still haven’t got the okay from the top of the chain of command to go after that scum.”

“Chloe.”

“No. I’m not going to give you the address.”

“Well if Barnes ends up dead, I won’t have a mission will I?”

“He’s going to be fine, he fights better than you.”

You gasped, “How dare you?”

“He fights better than everyone in the division!” she insisted, “He can take care of himself.”

You pouted, “Fine,” you said, “I guess I won’t give Keith the idea of taking you out on a date then.”

She paused for a moment, “That’s bribery.”

“Uh huh.”

“You have no shame, do you?”

You motioned at the lingerie set you were in, “Does it look like it?”

She rubbed at her eye and let out a small whine.

“If my dad asks—“

“He’s not going to know.”

“Do you promise to behave?”

“I always behave,” you stated, making her snort.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Please?” you asked, “I promise I’ll be safe. I’ll just make sure he’s alive, that’s it. I won’t get involved in anything.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

Chloe pursed her lips. “For your information, I think picnics are romantic.”

“Dully noted,” you said, “Trust me, he will take you on a picnic. So, do we have a deal?”

She rolled her eyes, then nodded, making you let out a laugh and walk back to the changing room.

“I want candles on that picnic too!”

“Send me the list of your demands,” you called out, “I’ll make sure they’re all covered.”

                                                      ***

In all honesty, Chloe was terrible at saying no to people, especially the people she loved.

You fixed your ski mask as you took a look at the text Bucky had sent you after you asked him what he was doing;

Nothing much, going home soon. You?  

“Liar liar….” You sang as you typed your reply.

Soup Kitchen was so tiring, I think I’ll go to bed early tonight.

Fine. Maybe he wasn’t the only liar in this relationship.

You took a look at the building’s window through your binoculars, then lowered them to check your phone when it vibrated.

Good idea. Sweet dreams darling.

You tried to ignore the smile on your lips but as soon as you heard gunshots coming from the building, your head shot up.

“Shit,” you murmured and tried to see what was happening, but it was impossible. Whoever they were, they were definitely staying away from windows.

“Not gonna get involved,” you muttered, “Not gonna get involved, it’s stupid and puts the mission in danger. I’ll stay right here, he can take care of himself.”

For about five seconds, it worked.

“I’m being stupid,” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed the gear around your waist, then checked whether it would actually carry you, “I’m being so fucking stupid, I haven’t even slept with the dude yet….”

You went over to the edge of the rooftop, then took a deep breath, grabbed the cables and jumped to crash through the window of the building the gunshots were coming from. You pulled your gun to shoot the person who looked like he was about to shoot Bucky, sending him to the ground and Bucky pushed the guy he was fighting with through the wall, then turned around to point the gun at you but as soon as he did, he frowned.

“….Shrike?”

“Hi handsome.” You unbuckled the rope from the harness, sending it up to the rooftop again as he lowered his gun. “Need a hand?”

Chapter 18

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine

[eleni-cherie]

8 mile ✨ || myg au - chapter 0.2

"Thanks to you I could make my dream come true."

first time yoongi laid eyes on soyeon was eight years ago, at a rap battle in a rundown club. how could they know the effect they would have on each other ever since?

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: musicians au, romcom, humour, fluff, angst, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

»»»

With a yawn Yoongi exited the elevator. Making his way down the corridor to his studio. It was quite early but he wanted to continue working on some songs today. Taking a sip from his water, he took a turn when seeing some people standing in the distance. One was Jay, along him another guy and a girl. She was much shorter and had short, dyed blond hair. That was all Yoongi could recognise. They were all facing a door, so he couldn't see any faces.

With a shrug, he entered the code to his door lock and stepped into his warm studio. After switching on the lights, he closed the door behind him and threw his jacket on the couch. He left the coffee cup on his desk, sitting down on his chair.

Today should be a good day. He had a dry hoodie and felt like inspiration was slowly taking his mind. He felt ready, yes. Today he would manage finishing the lyrics, so he could finally focus more on the melody again. He turned on his computer, seeing numerous new notifications popping up. With a sigh, he skimmed over them. Most being meeting invitations to discuss some projects he was working on with the rest of the team. Others were just reminders. And one from Jay.

"Subject: demos"

Right, he had almost forgotten. The new artist's demos. He was curious, to say the least. He had asked around some other colleagues and apparently their executive producer had been delighted about her. That was all he could find out from the office's gossip radar. It wasn't anything weird though. The executive producer might have been open and easy-going when it was about the music itself and artistic freedom, but when it came to business decisions he could be closed off. Too closed off for many employees' liking. He was a cool dude but at the end of the day, still a typical boss in many aspects.

With anticipation but not too high expectation he clicked on the file and let it start play. A piano melody starting playing, soon accompanied by a cello.

"it's kinda funny and it's kinda sad this mad world

faces around me are unfamiliar with their daily races going nowhere in particular-"

He stopped the track. Frowning. Hadn't Jay said she was a rapper? Maybe he had sent the wrong demos. After all the woman on this track was singing. And that quite well. Scratching his head, he continued with the next track. An upbeat melody suddenly starting playing. Definitely inspired by oldschool hiphop.

"'Told you, I'm the gem in this place, invest in me quickly The new kind of cripto currency You're only looking for the shiny things Couldn't find me, maybe I've changed?

You're rude, stop preteding to be nice and go away Don't be pretentious now Said you expected my success, liar That's absurd, don't pretend to be close and go away"

Now that was definitly rapping, not singing. And actually good rapping.

Had she also composed those melodies?

If this really was this new artist Jay had told him about, he was a little impressed. Not too much, but he still was. He could see potential in her work. Understanding why the executives wanted to sign her.

Still, what could she want from him?

A knock on his door disrupted his train of thoughts. Sometimes he wished he had a normal door without a security lock so he wouldn't have to always stay up whenever someone wanted something from him. But then again, it would make it easier for everyone to just burst in whenever they wanted, which would probably annoy him more.

"Oy, Yoongi. You're early today." Of course, it was none other than Jay greeting him with a grin, "But that's okay. She's already here as well." Confused, the boy pinched the bridge of his nose. "Who?" "The new artist. Didn't I tell you it'd be today?" He surprassed a groan. "Yeah, no, I knew it was today. But not that it'd be in the morning." With a sigh, he got up. It seemed he wouldn't be able to continue his work just yet. "Alright, let's get over this quickly." Almost dragging his feet, he followed his colleague to one of the conference rooms. Stopping in front of its door. "I figured out you'd want to talk to her without the executives." Yoongi smiled, patting Jay's shoulder. "You know me too well." The tall man let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "Talk with her and if you don't feel like working with her, just say so from the beginning. Don't expect me to do it again. Got it?" "Yeah, yeah," Yoongi mumbled, chuckling quietly. He placed a hand on the door, about to push it open when he stopped in his tracks. "By the way, what's her name?" Jay's eyes widened before knitting his brows. Clearly not remembering. "Wait, it was J-j- or was it Y-?" "Whatever," Yoongi muttered, shaking his head, "I'll just ask her myself." "Ask me what?" A sudden voice behind them made them wince in surprise. Yoongi looked over his shoulder, seeing the girl with the short blond hair now standing in front of him. With an arched brow and wide, brown eyes. "Ah, your name," the tall guy quickly responded, "He asked for your name. Right?" His gaze quickly switching to Yoongi for confirmation. However, he didn't say anything. Only stood there with a frown. Not saying anything. It felt like he was having some kind of déjà-vu. Unsure of what though. It was a blur. He saw the girl's lips curling up into a shy smile then. Her features softening. "Soyeon. My name's Soyeon." »»»

next chapter: here

#BTS AU #BTS FANFIC #BTS #BTS SCENARIOS #BTS IMAGINES #YOONGI AU #SUGA AU #YOONGI FANFIC #SUGA FANFIC #YOONGI FLUFF #SUGA FLUFF #JEON SOYEON #PRODUCER #FEMALE RAPPER #s2f2l #s2f #s2l #strangers to friends #strangers to lovers #strangers to friends to lovers

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Hi! Could I get HC from the guys? 👀 How they would always react to catching the reader seeing them "badly", in addition to the fact that he usually avoids them, but with his brothers it is incredible and they feel bad because they think they do not like him.  But she actually likes them and she looks at them like that because she "studies" them to draw them and she is too clumsy and shy to talk to them, that's why she ends up avoiding them. Until finally he catches her drawing them with lots of hearts or maybe they'll find her notebook with lots of portraits of them.

It's kind of funny because when I study people to draw them, they think that I look at them with hatred xd maybe I should increase my glasses prescription

God, glasses are such a pain in the ass but I have to wear them. If I don't anyone within my near vicinity doesn't have a face. But why they gotta get dirty so easily???? Makes me wanna explode or something

TMNT Headcanons

The boys w/ a quiet reader who is fine with his brothers but acts cold around him and stares a lot

Michaelangelo

mikey couldn't describe his disappointment upon realizing that you didn't want to be friends with him

well, you never actually said that to him

but he was pretty sure it was the case

you'd never made an effort to be friends with him

stared at him an awful lot though, but there was always something off about your gaze when you looked at him

like you were sizing him up, scrutinizing him, like he was an opponent

it kinda worried him

to add to that, you didn't even attempt to look embarrassed when he caught you staring

you'd just stare harder

on your end it was quite the opposite

you always found the brothers fascinating and you LOVED studying their anatomy, you'd confessed this to Donnie early on and he happily indulged in your questions

and you loved how easily you got along with the boys

well, except for Mikey

but it wasn't for a lack of trying

whenever the orange sporting turtle came around your normally flamboyant personality crept back into its little corner and hid

any words of excitement that had previously been with you died in your throat

for the longest time you didn't understand it

and you hated not understanding things, so you turned to your only outlet

that's how you ended up with an entire sketchbook full of the youngest brother in vastly different styles and poses

you had a separate book for the others, none of them as detailed as this

and when you stared to analyze you'd fallen into a habit of not looking away when caught

by your logic, if you stared back hard enough he'd look away first or just assume you'd zoned out

he didn't

and on one hectic day you'd left your sketchbook open on the kitchen table in your rush to get to work

you hadn't even noticed the slip up until Leo texted you to let you know during your shift

instant panic

in truth, Mikey was the one who discovered the book upon waking up from his nap and he'd spent the next three hours analyzing every drawing

when you finally dropped in after work to grab your book the turtle was waiting for you with it in hand

he'd asked you if you hated him

you told him no and accepted your sketchbook from him

he was relieved and screaming excitedly, just in his head

"Do you maybe wanna hang out sometime?"

You sighed in relief and nodded

"If you're cool with it- you don't think I'm weird do you?"

"I mean- you are talking to a turtle..."

you lightly shoved his chest and smiled, although it faded within a second

"Oh hush, 10 o'clock tomorrow? I'll bring snacks."

he was so stunned he could only shoot you finger guns in approval

Donatello

Donnie genuinely couldn't understand your unease around him

he'd followed all the proper expectations of holding a conversation

he was polite and engaging

so why wouldn't you talk to him?

this boy has read so many social blogs to try and figure out what he was doing wrong and he just couldn't put his finger on it

you were fine with the rest of his brothers, you'd stay up for hours laughing and gaming with them

you'd even sat still long enough to listen to Leo explain some old Japanese myth that he'd read about in a book

but with him it was always a quick, cordial greetings and farewells with bland small talk in between

Donnie had picked up pretty quickly that you weren't interested in any sort of interaction with him

and he convinced himself that that was okay

but that didn't explain the staring

he'd caught you in the act several times, eyes narrowed and locked on him

especially when you were alone with him in a room or just in the lair

the poor turtle just couldn't put his finger on it

then he caught you drawing, he noticed early on that you always carried a small sketchbook on your person but he didn't think much of it

and it wasn't so much that he caught you drawing, in fact, he wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't snapped at him while he was trying to do a sudoku puzzle

"Damn it Donnie! Stop moving! If I fuck this arm up one more time I'm gonna decompose!"

he'd quickly moved back into the position he was in prior

"sorry?"

but you'd gone silent again, occasionally glancing up from your work and running your eyes along his frame before looking down again

nearly twenty minutes later Donnie had finished the puzzle and it seemed as though you had finished your drawing

"Uh- can I ask what are you-"

"I'm drawing you but you kept moving your arm and making me mess up. You always do that when I draw you so every damn picture I have of you stays a sketch because you always come out looking like a fucking octopus."

He just stared

"Sorry, I uh- I didn't mean to explode on you like that. I'm just- I'm really bad at talking to you okay? It's so easy with everyone else but you've just gotta be so damn smart all the time and I worry that you'll think I'm boring so I just... don't talk to you?"

Donnie is stunned™

You refuse to show him the drawing until you can complete the line art and color it

But at least he knows that you don't hate him

Leonardo

To be completely honest Leo didn't mind that you were distant from him

You created an aura of calm when you were around and you always managed to distract his brothers while you were present

And he enjoyed the alone time

But after a few months that calm acceptance turned into jealousy

Not that he would ever admit it

He would just push it off and ignore it, that usually seemed to work

So why wasn't it?

And your obvious staring problem didn't help at all

Leo didn't spend much time considering his appearance but something about your gaze made him self conscious

And he hated that with a passion

Why was it that you could hold entire debates with his siblings? Even his dad for gods sake. You'd have hour long conversations on almost everything but whenever he tried to say hello you'd make up some lame ass excuse and scamper away

He just wanted an explanation

It appeared that the answer resided in your sketchbook

You'd left it open on the couch when Raph had called you away to spar with him

Leo very delicately flipped through the pages, careful not to disturb some of the polaroid pictures of his brothers

He was admittedly surprised to find pictures of himself among the pages

One of him in a handstand, another of him meditating, there was even one of him mid sneeze that you'd recreated with pencil and paper

The image of his eyes was the most startling, but the book held no polaroid of his eyes

You drew them from memory

And he was shocked when you returned to the room and didn't immediately panic

But that might have been because he didn't try to withhold your book from you

"It took me three months to color them, your eyes. I could never get the shade of blue just right."

"I'm gonna be honest with you y/n, I really thought you didn't like me."

You had the nerve to roll your eyes and follow it with a laugh

"I don't. I mean- I do but no, you just remind me a lot of myself and I haven't exactly figured out why yet. I thought that maybe if I drew you it'd be easier to figure you out..."

"Well did it help?"

You grinned

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Raphael

If there was one thing Raph hated it was not understanding something that was right in front of him

which is ironic, as a much younger version of himself probably couldn't care less

and a part of him wishes he didn't care about it so much

he wishes that your blatant avoidance of him didn't upset him

but shit, it got under his skin better than any needle ever could

was it too much to ask for you to just tell him what he said or did wrong?

was he asking too much of you?

but on the same scale you'd never shown obvious dislike towards him, you were never rude and you sure as hell didn't talk shit about him to his brothers

you got along great with them

in fact it was getting more difficult to remember a time before you became a part of his family

he'd become so used to your presence that it no longer put him off when he found you hanging around the lair

but in another sense he was certain that you hadn't spoken more than three sentences to him in your time knowing him or his family

so what was the reason

several months in he finally caught onto the staring, your narrow, glassy gaze locked onto his body and refusing to look away

he stared right back at you

this annoyed you for several reasons

because within five seconds your very peaceful drawing session had turned into a staring contest and your eyes were getting VERY dry

then you exhaled in a half-sigh and looked back down at your paper

"Huh, I guess your head is more of an oblong shape..."

he took offense to this

"What tha' hell is that supposed t'mean?"

now your eyes held more of an amused silent judgement, you begrudgingly held up your sketchbook

"I'm drawing you, you fucking walnut."

"Oh..."

now you rolled you eyes and tossed the book to him, he nearly dropped it and fumbled with the pages

your annoyance was quickly growing

"Careful with that."

He flipped through the pages at a snails pace, assumingly because he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing

you had some real talent

when he looked back up at you he was wearing that crooked smile

"and here I was thinkin' that my eyes were just green."

Hope I was able to get this down pretty well! I really enjoyed writing this one! Thanks for the patience!

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #writing blog #writing requests #askbox #ask response #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo

[cherrysha]

Run

Remember when i posted abt lumberjack a/b/o Uvo? well here it is!! shoutout again to ram fr helping me with this piece!! This is my first attempt at a longer story with more plot. Part of me wanted to break it up into more chapters but I like the build up thats there by keeping it in one piece. Its my take on abo (I know some people love it and some absolutely hate it but the lewding potential was too much for me to pass up) Very loosely based off of this song by hozier

Summary: Alphas are rare, Omegas even moreso. The standard for society is being a Beta, but unfortunately you weren’t born as one. Being an Omega is a presentation so detestable that it’s hard to even survive. In an era where it’s completely normal to cast you from the village for simply existing, to keep you blind from what it is to truly be an Omega, will there be any respite for you? (Yes, this is a period piece)

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: A/B/O, dubcon (since the readers in heat), predator/prey, a little blood, one slap, breeding, overstimulation, unprotected sex

“Do you ever get the feeling that they are lying to you?” you stare at the weathered wooden boards of the porch before you dare to glance at her face. The miller’s daughter was an omega as well, and often you found yourself gravitating to her if only out of comfort. The one of few in the village that could relate to you. She looked so soft in the morning sun, so lighthearted and gentle as she picked at the frayed patchwork of her dress.

“I don’t like to think about it too much or else I scare myself, y/n” she giggles. 

So Naïve.

You mull it over before coming to the conclusion that you and her are not the same. “I guess I understand” 

Her father always says she’s too kind, but that’s exactly what was so endearing. A world where it was normal to treat people like you and her as lesser, and she was still so kind. Absently, you wondered if you'd ever see her again after her next heat. It had been too long since an omega went missing.

“Will you still be walking with me to the market?”

“Ah, mother seems to have found some extra fabric that had been tucked away somewhere, so I suppose not. However, I’m glad you came to visit y/n!” she giggles as you stick your tongue out at her like a child. 

The walk there gives you an opportunity to think of her words. Was denial better than the fear that came along with the truth?

Plenty of omegas had gone missing. When you were younger, the elders would tell you that there was a man who lived on the edge of the forest. He wasn't an alpha, or a beta, or even an omega. He was only a monster. 

The path stretches before you and the heat of the summer sun is almost enough to make you turn around. But you persist, the idea of returning home empty handed was enough to make you ignore the sting on the back of your neck. 

This man, this beast, would eat omegas. That’s why it was important to return home before dark, the man in the forest used the cover of night to hunt; to take. that’s why omegas always went missing in the village. 

You momentarily take refuge in the cool water in the creek on the outskirts of the village, watching idly as water swirled around your bare feet.

When were you old enough to realize the flaws of that story? Was it your first heat? When with shaky hands, your mother had packed you enough provisions for the week and whispered for you to leave? Or was it the anger in your father’s voice when you asked to stay and he bitterly told you that omegas only brought misfortune?

You sigh. No, it was the day you'd found out one of the few remaining omegas hadn’t come back and that truth had only been a hard pill to swallow for you. No one seemed to care, it was as if the man in the forest didn’t scare them, had never scared them.

Not much sooner had you made the connection. Alphas were few and far between, but omegas were even more scarce. The ones who couldn’t find omegas settled down with betas, but what would a married alpha do when an unclaimed omega went into heat? Only the forest knew.

Sometimes you wished the beast was real, and still the lie had persisted. The younger omegas believed it to be the wood smith and while he was a recluse, so much so that you'd never even seen him, he was far too young to be the monster from your youth. He’d only made his appearance in the village every so often, and in truth he hadn’t lived in the area for that long. You let them hold on to their delusion instead, not wanting to be the one to burst their bubble.

Your heat was many moons away, but the fear of living still persisted.

The water feels nice on your neck, gentle and cooling as you scoop handfuls of it over your burning skin. It makes you forget about everything for a second, soothing over you like an expensive balm. Somehow, It reminds you of when you were little, before you presented and the friends you'd made in the village. Small and unassuming, no worries about presentation or etiquette. Just young and carefree. The thought brings a smile to your face.

Now, boys your age would rather die than be seen with an Omega, not that you cared about their indifference. In their minds it was completely warranted, and in yours the Betas had nothing to offer you. You both saw each other as fundamentally useless. No one gave mind to insects, most of the time they were just there. Some were cruel, yes, but most went their way, and you went yours. That was the best you could ask for.

Sighing, you pick the coin purse out of your pocket, taking a moment to count the few coins your mother had given you. 

It was barely enough to buy thread, but you weren’t surprised. Her and father were still angry that you'd ripped another hole in your dress again since it was one of the little clothing items they had granted you. If it weren’t for the fact that the hole steadily became bigger, threatening the integrity of the entire garment, you don’t think it would’ve been mended at all.

The wind swirls around you, reminding you of your task and the repercussions of wasting time. 

With a grunt, you force yourself back up and onto the road, sidestepping a rather large man carrying probably one of the largest baskets of wood you'd ever seen.

Mother says that its impolite to stare, so you don’t let your gaze linger for too long, but the sight was unusual to say the least. He’s tall, so tall in fact that you have to peer up to even try to see his face, eventually you give up and your gaze ends at the well toned muscles of his chest that are thinly veiled underneath a rather dingy tunic. You couldn’t judge him, right now you were wearing the same dress that desperately needed patching up. Still, he was somewhat of an unbelievable height, it was hard not to wonder of his presentation. Surely, there couldn’t be Betas that tall, but it was even more so unbelievable for him to be an Alpha. The Alphas in your town were well known, their large presence in the village applauded by most and avoided by Omegas. Like the tavern owner with wandering hands under the guise of drunkenness and the butcher who stared a little too long that one might find it indecent. 

 as you make your way through the village opening you can feel his presence pressing closer behind you with each step. It’d be easier to know for certain if the wind carried his scent, but at the present moment it was blowing yours in his direction, a thought that was a little unnerving to you. Nevertheless, you persisted, pushing past the mounting feeling in your chest that seemed to get worse the louder his footsteps became behind you. Surely, he was just selling the basket on his back at the market. And since he was a stranger to you, It would make sense for him to follow you so closely there if he wasn't from the village.

You let yourself relax, tense shoulders easing up as you finally come to the only conclusion that made sense. You were an Omega; A Beta had no better reason to follow you other than directions.

The sun still beats overhead, making the exposed skin of your face damp with sweat. With little thought, you wipe it away with the handkerchief stashed inside your pocket. It was little more than torn fabric that mother had no use for, but you appreciated when she had given it to you nonetheless. 

The market wasn't busy for this time of day, which you were grateful for. Less people to cast you a distasteful glare as you silently perused through the stalls in search for thread. It only takes a few moments to find it at a stand with colorful fabrics, pins and needles and textiles that were definitely worth more than anything you'd ever own.

The smile on your face lights up as you find the cheapest option available, speaking quietly to the stall owner you ask for it.

You're met with silence, its only when you look at them that you realize they aren’t even looking at you. Instead, you follow their gaze behind you, to the burly man who had somehow gotten close enough to block out your view of the sun. 

“Gorgeous too, huh?” he smiles down at your shocked face, even daring to lean down, hand gripping your jaw to force your head up, leaving your neck exposed to him. He’s not quick about it either, his nose coming to scent you as he indulges himself in the smell he finds there. 

“And where have you been hiding?” he whispers it, a secret between the both of you that your too scared to acknowledge. In stark contrast, you've been rooted to the spot, too scared to do much of anything as the complete stranger ungracefully takes his time mulling you over. 

It’s a funny thing, he can smell just how frightened you are, but it doesn’t mask the scent that made him follow you in the first place. 

The scene is far too intimate for such a public space, and subconsciously, you're aware of that. You know this isn’t right, you shouldn’t be letting yourself get so carried away by the stranger, even if he does smell wonderful. Nothing like any Alpha you’ve met. Although his presence is completely overwhelming, his scent isn’t, and he lets out a breathless laugh when you subtly try to scent him back. 

The only thing that snaps you back to reality is the stall owner clearing their throat, forcing you to realize how blatantly improper you were being. It’s far too embarrassing to handle, and mortification sets into your bones. The man pays them no mind, instead using one of his large hands to slam a few bills onto the counter.

“Whatever she wants” his voice comes out as a low and guttural thing, hoarse from days of disuse, as his breath fans across your face. He thinks it’s cute, the way your eyebrows shoot up makes his grin even wider. 

With shaky hands you point to the cheapest bobbin of thread, hands fumbling for your coin purse before he grabs your wrist. “What did I say, Omega?” its stern, but all you can manage to do is bumble over your words, eyes cast downwards as you try to ignore the embarrassment settling on your face. He was just trying to be nice, maybe he was a tad bit uncivilized about it, but his impropriety shouldn’t make it okay to decline such a kind offer. The thread is taken from the counter, his hand slowly ruffling the folds of your dress as he finds your pocket and drops it in.

At this point you’ve become a spectacle, passersby muttering not so subtly about just how close you are to him, how rude it was to make a scene like that in public. With a cough you back away, surprised to find that he doesn’t follow, only aims a grin at you as he continues to stare. Not wanting to leave on a sour note, you ask

“What’s your name?”

  Maybe one day you could repay the favor, although he didn’t look like the type to need to buy thread. He didn’t look like the type to care that much about his appearance at all, if you were being honest.

“its Uvogin. Gimme what’s in your pocket.”

“The thread?” with a wolfish smile he shakes his head no. It takes you a moment but clumsily you pad at the dress before finally finding your pocket and dipping your hand in to pull out the tiny wad of fabric in question. The only other thing in your pocket besides your coin purse. Your handkerchief. You don’t think about it as you hand it over to Uvogin, your head feels fuzzy just by his proximity. Don’t even think about how closely he must’ve been watching you to see that you had one, or how long he’d been doing so as he walked behind you and into the market. Right now, he could ask for a lot of things and you'd gladly hand it all to him with no second thoughts about it.

“You should head home. Maybe get some rest before it happens” he leans closer to sniff at your throat one last time, albeit a lot quicker than he had in the past “Although, I don’t think you’ll have much time.” The end of his sentence comes out in as a laugh, jovial enough to make you forget how sinister his final words were. With little grace, you slowly backpedal, eyes still on his before you turn around and walk out the way you came.

You smell. You reek of him. It’s the only thought in your mind as you clutch at yourself tightly, eyes cast downwards to avoid the shame of looking at others. There wasn't a pair of eyes that didn’t linger on you, most likely smelling exactly what you smelled; The stench of an Alpha. So thick and cloying that you couldn’t pretend it was anything other. Maybe you could rinse it off in the creek before you got home, but you doubted it. The smell permeated through your dress and settled into your bones. Quickly, you head out of the village and towards the sound of running water. 

He was handsome, his scent so alluring that it made your mind wander as you tried desperately to rinse it off of your skin. A hint of sweat, pine and something sweet you had no name for. Sitting on your haunches, you let out a whine at the fact that nothing you did could rinse it off, and part of you didn’t want to, anyway. He’d ruined your dress by doing little more than touching it. If your parents smelled it, who knows what they would do. Probably cast you out like they’d planned on doing when you tore your dress. Any little infraction was worth your disappearance. This would give them every reason not to want you around. 

It seemed to be getting hotter. So hot in fact you were half tempted to wade into the creek, dress and all, just to get the feeling to go away. The sun had been hidden by an overcast sky, clouds threating to burst at any moment, and you prayed they would. It could drown out any scent lingering on your skin, your clothes, the far recesses of your mind that held onto it like a bloodhound. Why was it so hot?

Wordlessly, you waded into the water, thinking little of the repercussions of coming home with a sopping wet dress as you sat down, letting the stream flow over you and around your shoulders. It felt soothing at first, like a cool bath when you were sick, but all too soon the water felt just as warm as you were. It. Was enough to elicit another strangled whine from your throat.

Slowly you stood, the weight of the fabric hugging tighter against your skin all too noticeable. This wasn't right. The sun was gone, the water cool, so why did you feel so sick all of a sudden?

It took a minute to fully accept it, as part of you didn’t want to. But you couldn’t excuse the need growing in your abdomen as anything else.

You had to leave here, quick. Get as far away from the village as possible. Away from the Omegas and your family, away from everything in order to have a chance at saving yourself.

Wading out of the water, you give no pause to the way your skirts cast dark droplets onto the dry ground. 

 With little to no hesitation, you make your way back onto the road before veering right, into the underbrush as you picked up the pace. Before, you'd have a day’s head start to get as far away as possible, but this was different. The telltale signs of your heat stirring low in the pit of your belly was a fortnight too early. Your thoughts were already starting to fog around the edges, an in a few hours all you'd be able to do was cry out from the sheer pain of it all.

 With every step you find yourself walking faster, legs getting whipped by the low lying brambles. The way they so easily tear into your skin going almost unnoticed by you in your sheer panic. It wasn't supposed to be this way, it’s a type of confusion that adds on to the delirium already buffing away at your subconscious. 

After a few minutes of running, only your panicked gasps keeping you company, the clouds burst above you. Fat drops soaking the underbrush and you along with it. In no time the ground beneath your feet becomes even more treacherous, mud and leaves and errant roots making you stumble and fall at every opportunity. After one nasty fall, you can't help but sit for a moment, a manic chuckle ripping through your chest as you examine your skinned palms. Your dress is filthy, the tear even larger than it had been when you set out this morning. Absently you wonder if mother will let you try to mend it before she casts you out for it. Without looking down at your legs, you already know the bruises that will be there from every bump and fall you’ve taken on your little journey. It does little to worry you, once the adrenaline wore off, maybe then you'd feel yourself start to care again.

With a sigh you let yourself rest. Hypervigilance slipping as you gaze up at the canopy in awe. How could rain be so loud? 

Mentally, you try to assess your location. There was a place not far from here that served as your hideaway in times like these. A fissure in the face of a sheer cliff, only big enough for you and any other Omega that had the misfortune of being cast out into the woods. It wasn't much, the crack was uncovered, the rain and wet still able to reach you, but that wasn’t what was important. 

Standing up gives you a better view of your surroundings. With little thought you start to head in the direction you remembered, down the slope of the hill in hopes of finding your salvation at the bottom. 

It doesn’t take long before you hear it. Crackling branches under heavy, heavy footsteps. It’s not a promising sign, to say the very least. Feverishly you pick up the pace, mind racing as you try to figure out who would’ve followed you. It’s not like you did much to hide where you were going, in truth you didn’t think about it at all. Mind glazing over, you don’t notice the thick tree root that’s in your way, stumbling over it as your palms meet the forest floor once again. Ungracefully, your body tumbles easily down the rest of the slope, a cry leaving you as you hit the ground repeatedly. 

Uvo’s laugh is audible over the thunderous sound of rain. Its jarring. A wretched reminder that you're actively being hunted down like an animal.

“Sounds like I’m getting close, huh?” he yells, still too far away for you to see him under the darkened canopy. His voice echoes and you can't tell where exactly he is behind you, only knowing that its entirely too close for comfort. Hazily, your mind makes the connection, his voice rattling back in your ears over and over again as you pick yourself up. 

You can’t say that you've gotten any faster after realizing who exactly was chasing you. The ache in your body from multiple falls was finally catching up to you, along with the heat that was settling low in the pit of your stomach that seemed to be burning even brighter than a few minutes ago.

After a few minutes of running, you see it and almost sob with relief. Thick with vines, the opening of the rockface, your salvation, is almost within distance. 

“I hope you're not thinkin’ of doing what I think you're gunna do.” Its not a yell. Not anything other than an irritated statement thrown so casually and so, so close to you that it causes goosebumps to rise on the back of your neck.  Quickly, you look behind you, a slight yip leaving your throat as you take in the distance between the both of you.

In a last ditch effort, your body works on autopilot. Fear drives you, pushes you faster and faster until the only thing you can hear is the thrumming of your own heart in your ears. He’s loud behind you, yelling something unintelligible as you try to make your escape. You're within reaching distance of the opening now, but his hands grab at you. The slickness of the rain serves in your favor. Easily you slip from his grasp, body lurching forward and into the opening as he tears at the shoulder of your dress.

The air surrounding him seems to vibrate with raw anger, something akin to a roar tearing through him at just how close he’d come to having you.

Big hands come to slam against either side of the opening as he peers down at your shrunken form. Chest heaving, the rain glints off of his skin and the image alone is enough to make you whimper in submission. He’s so tall, broader than any Alpha you'd seen, and he’s incredibly angry. Uvo’s gaze doesn’t leave you as the seconds tick by.  After a few moments of him trying, and failing, to collect himself he finally speaks

“I’m not gunna hurt ya, now come here” he says, and it sounds sincere enough that your fuzzy brain almost believes him. Almost gives in to the temptation of his scent, his open arms goading you to leave the small space.

“I don’t believe you” you whine, shaking your head ‘no’ as if he wouldn’t understand the meaning of your words.

It’s so unbelievably hot. The fat drops of rain hitting your face and soaking you through to your very core did little to relieve the feeling. if anything, it overwhelmed your heightened senses, every little drop on your skin felt like something you needed to pay close attention to.

“Just wanna make you feel better” the statement alone forces a whimper out of your throat, body edging backwards as if to physically deny him

“You can't make me feel better, no one in this damn town can make me feel better.” it’s a lot more hysterical than you meant it, but Uvo’s face contorts in confusion all the same.

It’s quiet for a moment as he assesses you. Big green eyes rake over your shivering form, more anger than pity bubbling to the surface of his features as he realizes how much he doesn’t like what he sees.

“You don’t know anything, huh?” he mumbles to himself, letting one of his large hands swipe away the excess water on his face before settling on his hip “What’s it gunna take for you to come out then?”

You want to tell him to leave, to let you be alone but another part of you wants something. Something you can't explain enough to even know yourself.

“Just don’t hurt me, okay?” no matter how much you try to calm yourself down it still comes out too whiny and nasally for your liking.

Uvo laughs at that, boisterous and loud and it almost seems to overpower the sound of heavy rain hitting the tree branches around you.

“I just told you I wouldn’t, you forget that already?” you have half a mind to nod in affirmation, “Come on out then” he gestures towards you, wolfish smile marring his face.

As if to try and soothe you, he asks for your name. The question eats away at the open air before you finally find your voice enough to answer him.

In the quiet that precedes your answer you realize numbly that It’s getting darker out. You have no provisions and now you’re drenched. If you didn’t listen and stayed put, the rest of your heat would be torture. There’s a lot to consider, truthfully too much to consider in your current state. The ramifications of your actions, the honesty of the large man in front of you, the means in which he planned to help, how long you could actually survive out here without him. Your brain functions moved with the viscosity of syrup. The more you thought about it all, the less it seemed to make sense.

Quietly, you make your way to the opening, Uvo lets out an excited laugh as you crawl ever closer to him. It doesn’t take more than a few steps before a gasp is being torn from you as he grabs you by the arm, pulling you completely out and into his embrace. It feels nice, albeit a little jarring, but you won’t deny the full feeling in your chest at his proximity. A big and sturdy hand rakes up your side as the other holds you to his chest.

With little thought, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, relishing in the scent that hasn’t been completely washed away by the rain. Its calming, maybe he’s pumping out pheromones to induce that emotion within you, but at the same time it makes the coil in the pit of your stomach reach incredibly high temperatures. It hurts, oh god, it hurts

“Hurts, huh? I can fix that.” You don’t remember saying it aloud, but the burly man responds quickly by tearing the flimsy fabric of your dress, making sure to rip through your underwear as well. When you whine at the sensation all he does is mutter “Didn’t expect me to let you keep that ratty thing did you?”

It’s a makeshift blanket once he tosses it onto the ground, saving your back from most of the drenched forest floor as Uvo sets you down, his own body hovering over yours. His warmth is so nice, nothing like what’s eating you up inside, and with needy hands you run your fingers through his hair, a high pitched whine leaving your throat at the groan you coax from him.

“Fuck” he growls “M’gunna knot you so good. Bet it’ll only take one time before I get you nice and round”

You nod up at him, delirious and wanting. The only thing on your mind being the feel of him under your fingers.

With little finesse, Uvo thumbs at the opening of your sex before sliding over the bundle of nerves that lies just above it. He smiles at the confusion on your face before slowly, slowly sinking one of his large fingers inside of your heat. Your body writhes with broken sobs at the feeling. Its unlike anything you ever experienced before. 

“All this for me, huh? Must really want it.” It comes out in a huff, his smile ever growing as you nod in affirmation. You can hear the slickness he’s referring to as his finger pumps in and out of you. 

Right now the wind was bustling, rain beating down harder than it had been all night, but all that you could feel was the comfort Uvo gave you. As if his wandering hands were stroking your very soul.

Unbeknownst to you, Uvo’s already dipped another digit inside of you, marveling at the way your body so easily opens up to his touch.  It’ll only take him a few more minutes of his fingers dutifully scissoring you open before he’s able to lay his claim. 

“Doesn’t hurt, does it?” he smiles as you shake your head, mouth open and panting as your lovestruck gaze meets his “Of course it doesn’t.”

He takes his time, languid strokes and teasing bites against your chest. No rush in his movements until you brokenly sob for him. The feeling in your gut was only getting worse with every movement. With weak hands you claw at him, trying desperately to pull his body closer.

His hand moves from your cunt, popping his digits in his mouth with a groan. When he finally sucks them clean, his hands go to his belt, “Impatient little thing” whispered from his lips.

The sight alone makes your mouth water. Too long and jarringly thick, his cock slaps up against his stomach. 

“Gunna make you feel a loot better” he mumbles, taking himself in hand. God, you want it, want every bit of him no matter the repercussions. He kneels above you, chest wet and heaving with excitement as his gaze lingers on your exposed pussy. A Grecian God chiseled from marble and sent here just for you. 

With steady hands he presses you your legs up, folding you in half until hes achieved the angle he’s looking for. You have no choice but to comply, whimpering as he guides himself into your aching cunt.

The stretch of it burns, it makes your body quake almost as if the size of his cock alone has rendered you weak. It’s an overwhelming sensation that eats away any rational thought until you can only focus on the piercing sharpness of it.

“Stop, please, s’too much.” You can't recognize the sound of your own voice. Its hoarse as if you'd been yelling for hours. Uvogin buries his nose in your neck again, hands coming up to press your legs to even further against your chest.

“Here… got somethin’ to take your mind off it” 

With little warning his teeth are in your neck, tearing a wretched scream from your throat as Uvo draws blood. True to his word, he sinks the entirety of his length within you without your notice. Only thing on your mind is the feeling of your flesh being torn open by him, claimed by him. 

There’s’ little compassion in the way his hips snap against yours. Its brutal, making you cry out even more as the force of it jostles the teeth still buried snugly in your neck. Your hands claw at the ground before eventually settling on his back. Uvo groans at your nails digging into him, spurring him on to go faster, harder, to give you everything he’s got until you drain him dry.

The noise of Uvo thrusting into your warm cunt is loud, almost deafening compared to the rain around you. It’s all you can hear; All you can feel as he doesn’t waste any time in finding the exact spot within you that makes you scream.

Every shift of his hips is maddening. Every sharp thrust enough to push the air out of your lungs. Eventually Uvo’s mouth pulls away from your throat, lapping at the bloodied mess he’d left there. You can't focus on it too much. Can't focus on much of anything at the present moment, only the slick sounds of his cock dragging in and out of you filling your mind. 

“Gunna need you to do somethin’ for me, doll” his words are almost too far away for you to hear. As if he’s underwater, it takes a light slap to your face in order for you to process them.

“Huh?” you ask dumbly. You can't remember if your voice always sounded that small. That meek. 

“M’not gunna last long with the way you’re suckin’ me in like this” he growls “Gunna need you to bite down.” One of his hands that was previously holding your thigh up reaches for the nape of your neck, pulling you up until your face is flush against the side of his throat. Something is growing inside of you, burning through your very being and he’s the cause of it. It’s mind numbing, this pleasure you’ve never felt before. Lazily you recognize it enough to know that your own orgasm is mere seconds away.

“Right here.” you nod, heat searing through you as his hips stutter. There’s something catching against your cunt now, impeding every kiss of his hips against yours as he struggles to fit the rest of his cock inside.

With an audible groan being your only warning, Uvo cums inside of you. It sears against your insides as something finally stops his movements, his body unable to do anything besides grind against your own. So full, you jerk with the feeling, finally letting the coil inside you snap. The scream that leaves your broken throat is cut off by Uvo shoving your face harder against his neck and, dutifully, you bite down. Its mere instinct driving you, or maybe the need to drown out your warbled cries for him. Either way, the wound makes him laugh, his hand pushing harder against you as if to force your teeth further into his skin. The tang of metal in your mouth does little to stop the ebb and flow of your orgasm as it washes through you. It’s too good, so good in fact you find yourself pulling away only to be met with Uvo’s unshakeable grip. Tears prick at your eyes at the sensitivity of it all, the overwhelming buzz that courses through you with no end in sight.

It takes a minute of blindly thrashing against him before you give up and settle on the wet ground below.

It’s completely pitch dark now and the rain has quieted into a slight drizzle. You can't see him, can only feel as the hand not gripping your neck finally lets your other thigh down to ghost over the plains of your face. 

“You're mine now” he whispers. Silently, you nod your head in agreement, not fully understanding the meaning of his words. It didn’t matter. Nothing truly mattered anymore besides the man above you. Uvo presses a lingering kiss to your neck, your jaw, before landing on your spit slicked lips. It’s almost soothing, the gentle touches his attentive hands leave on your body. Soothing enough to make you forget how you got here. 

With a gentle tug, he finally pulls out of your sex. The laugh that leaves his throat as his fingers explore the wetness that paints your lower body is euphoric. Soon enough he’s pulling you into his arms and standing up.

“Feel better?” it sounds like more of a statement coming from his mouth, but you nod all the same. As he starts to walk your eyelids droop in exhaustion, mind focused on the way his chest vibrates with every garbled sentence you can't quite hear.

#abo uvogin #uvogin x reader #Uvogin #uvo x reader #uvo

[yandere-daydreams]

Thoughts on a lover turning monster yandere? Your devoted partner goes through a horrific transformation into a blood thirsty, ravenous creature, subsequently shattering their mind- yet when they lock their dozen sets of eyes with yours, underneath the depraved animal they’ve become a sliver of their sanity connects the dots that you are their mate and they need to provide for you. In that moment, you realize you’re f*cked.

tw - toxic relationships, imprisonment, threats of violence, non-consensual touching, possessive mindsets, generalized monster-fucking antics.

I think it’d be better if the transformation was purposeful, organized, not exactly planned, but carried out with a certain degree of awareness of what comes next, after they drink a certain potion or don a certain amulet or do whatever they have to do to make their legs bend like that, their teeth sharpen into fangs, skin soon hidden under scales and pupils stretched into slits and mind distorted, twisted, made into something hazy and primitive and violent, even you’ve still never been on the receiving end of their new temper. It could’ve been an act of desperation, an act of heroism, something fleeting and panicked or calculated and thought through - it doesn’t really matter. As long as you’re stuck with a monster when they’re done, the results will always be the same. 

It’s unclear whether or not they remember you. Some days, you think it’d be easier if they didn’t, if they were only acting out of instinct, if the beast you’ve been trapped by only decided to take you as its mate on an impulse rather than any lasting sentiment for the human lover they may or may not remember fondly. They touch you gently, sure, never letting curved talons break thin skin, but that could just be a reflex, an inclination, a lingering desire not to harm what belongs to them. They try to comfort you, occasionally, muttering sweet, incoherent nothings as you scream, curling their strange new body around you whenever you cry, but they might just realize what comes afterward, what kind of fits you’re prone to, and they probably just want to avoid the next inevitable escape attempt or violent bout of resistance for another day. It’d be better, if they didn’t know you, if there was line to separate creature from mortal. It’d be less cruel, if they didn’t know what they were doing, if this was just a curse that could be broken or an illness they could recover from. It’d be easier, if there was nothing left of the person you once loved.

But, there’s only so much you can do to avoid how family their voice sounds, even if it’s been rougher than it used to be, even if it’s nearly been warped past the point of recognition. You can’t ignore the spots they choose to linger on, how much time they spend with their head resting on your lap or their teeth buried in the crook of your neck, revisiting old favorites despite how difficult their new form makes such practiced affection. You can’t overlook their habits, their tics, the flash of recognition that pass through their glassy eyes when they look at you, when they hear your laugh, when you let yourself fall far enough to believe something as simple as begging would be enough to cure them of whatever they’ve been afflicted with. It’s not often, but it’s there - hints of the person they used to be, of the lover you wish you could convince yourself you’d lost. A trace of humor when you mention a joke they used to find funny, the eerie calmness you’re treated to whenever you fail to pull away from their touch, and their anger, hot and smoldering and just as violent as it used to be, when they returned to you covered in bruises rather than blood, when they took on the role of prey rather than that of the predator. They don’t seem happy, but they don’t seem miserable as they should be, either. They’re not the person you recognized, but you’d be lying to yourself if you tried to say your captor is as alien as you’d like to believe.

They’re certainly not human, and yet, you’re starting to wonder if they ever really were.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere theory #general

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 3

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Just as things start looking like they'll get better, Rocket seems to ruin it. Hopefully this time he learns something.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Shorter chapter this time.

Word Count: 4,075

You might have slept in after having taken a middle-of-the-night walk, but your body had other ideas, waking you up right at seven A.M. Probably had a little something to do with eight strange people living in your house. Who's to say?

Breakfast today went smoother than yesterday. Nothing was spilled, no one was bit. It was almost nice.

However, afterwards you found yourself at a loss for what to do. You knew the garden was already free of weeds from where you weeded the day before, so there went that idea.

Sure, you could sit and relax, maybe try to get to know your new house guests, but you were still feeling too antsy and irritable to do that. You wanted something to keep your mind busy.

Eventually you settled on laundry. The machine was half full anyway and so you went upstairs to grab the hamper from the bathroom and threw it's contents in. Unfortunately you'd need to wait for the clothes to finish washing before you could hang them or fold them, but you supposed maybe you could sweep the floor while you waited.

You finished the kitchen much faster than you would have liked, and so you decided maybe you'd sweep the upstairs landing and work your way down.

You had swept about halfway down the stairs when Peter and Gamora decided to walk up the stairs about the same time as Mantis decided to walk down the stairs, hugging her bear. Upon seeing Peter and Gamora, Mantis then further decided to show them the "wonderful bear" you had given her before bounding down the rest of the stairs and out the front door.

They looked to you as she left, and you blushed and looked down at your task at hand. "Don't read too much into it. Just- you know... Thought it'd keep her from crawling in my bed at night... Seems to have worked."

"Right," said Peter, throwing a cheeky grin at Gamora. His tone was overly inquisitive when he spoke to you next, "Say, would you know anything about the toy car Groot found waiting in his room last night?"

You quickened your sweeping down the stairs. "I should really finish up here. Got other work to do."

Gamora looked pleasantly intrigued, and Peter lightly chuckled as they continued up the stairs.

You were grateful the sitting room was empty when you went to sweep in there, but you were also soon dismayed to have finished the chore so quickly. The washer still had a good chunk of time before it'd be finished and now you were once again left wondering what to do.

Might as well clean the bathroom.

More dismay befell you when you entered, however. Someone hadn't flushed. Again. Know who doesn't have to worry about house mates not flushing? People who live alone.

In disgust, you flushed for whoever the offender was, making a mental note to make a general callout to whoever it was to stop it, before getting a start on cleaning the bathroom.

The washer was finally done by the time you finished, and you jumped on the chance to grab a basket and bring the clothes out to the line. Sure, you had a dryer, but hanging them would keep you busier for longer. You put in your earbuds so you could listen to music while you worked.

Once outside you noticed that's where most of the others had gone. All but Peter and Gamora where in the back yard enjoying the sunshine. Yondu, Kraglin and Drax were shooting the breeze while Rocket pushed Groot on the little wooden car, which was just big enough for him to sit on, down the stone garden path. Groot would squeal in delight until he reached the end, then he would cheerfully run back carrying the car for Rocket to do it again. Mantis had discovered the rope and plank swing hanging from the old oak tree and was gently swaying as she cuddled her bear.

You made your way toward the clothesline on the other side of the yard and faced away from them as you went to hang the clothes on the line.

You were about three towels in when Kraglin taps you on the shoulder, making you jump. You turn to face him and pull out an earbud to hear what he was saying.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle ya, ma'am!"

You frowned, embarrassed. You were usually never this jumpy, especially not on the job, but this whole new situation has been playing with your nerves.

"Would you like some help, there?"

You shake your head, reaching down to grab a shirt to hang on the line.

"Well, would ya like some company?"

You come back up from the basket with another garment and raise your eyebrow at him.

"Not much of a talker, eh?" Kraglin said, starting to feel a little awkward. He was trying to make nice with you, but you weren't giving him anything and he didn't really know what to do. He told himself it'd be easier if you were someone he was trying to steal from. Cap'n was better at stuff like this.

You shrug.

"Well, I just wanted to say it was real nice what ya did for the little fella and the girl."

You look at him, already feeling a blush returning, and repeated what you said to Peter and Gamora earlier. "Don't read too much into it." You reach down to pull another garment.

Now Kraglin frowned. He tried to think of something else to say. Maybe he could break the ice with a joke? "Say, you ever hear about the guy who couldn't get his blaster to fire?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"He had to read the trouble shooting section in the manual."

You tilted your head. "Was that a joke?"

Kraglin made a grimaced grin and rubbed the back of his head, "Ah... yes?"

"Hm." is all you offer and you return to work.

Kraglin tries again. "What about the one about the constipated Krylorian?

You didn't look up. "I think your friends are calling for you."

Kraglin, missing the hint, "I didn't hear-"

You look up, the look in your eyes sending a chill through the former first mate. "Oh yes, they did."

He got the hint.

***

"She turned you away so fast!" Drax laughed when Kraglin returned.

Kraglin shook his head. "Apparently she's not a big talker. Actually almost kinda scary." He glanced back toward you briefly as if to make sure you stayed there.

"Scary?" Drax asked, perplexed. "But she looks all small and weak like Peter, or you?" He shook his head. "You are terrible with women."

"Hey!" Kraglin objected.

Yondu grinned.

"And I wasn't trying to get her into bed! I was just trying to break the ice is all."

Drax looked at you then back at Kraglin in confusion. "It's too warm? There shouldn't be any ice to break?"

Yondu shook his head and said, "No that's- Nevermind."

***

When hanging laundry you noticed some white mushrooms were starting to spring up around one of your clotheslines poles, and unfortunately you couldn't quite tell if it was the safe type or the poisonous type. You might have left it alone, but knowing the little tree child was running around now, you wanted to be sure. Just in case. You told yourself you just didn't want to clean up his vomit if he ate them and got sick.

You knew you had a book on mushrooms, so after you finished hanging the wash you headed inside and towards the sitting room to find it.

Everyone had long since come inside and now Yondu, Drax, Kraglin and Peter were already in there, playing a game of cards at the table while Mantis curled in the rocking chair reading a book of children's fairytales.

You stood there looking through the titles of your books, trying to find the right one, when suddenly you felt a pair of hands fluttering at your sides. You jerk with a gasp and spin around to grab the hands of your attacker and see that it's Mantis.

"Mantis- what are you doing?" You say, your tone laced with a gentle warning. You didn't release her wrists yet.

"You seemed grouchy. I wanted to make you laugh!" She replied cheerfully, not alarmed in the slightest by your tone.

You raise an eyebrow at the innocence of her answer. Eyeing her you say, "I'm not ticklish," before cautiously releasing her and making a shooing gesture. You turn back to the books.

Peter quietly catches Mantis's attention and with a grin nods in your direction, encouraging her to do it again. Yondu sees this and shakes his head softly, grinning at the mischief.

Not twenty seconds go by before you feel her hands at your waist again, and again you jerk with a gasp before spinning to catch her again. "Mantis," you say more warningly. Now Drax is grinning.

You hear snickers coming from the table and Kraglin says, "I think you are." It was funny to him. Just awhile ago you were almost scary in your stoic-ness, now you were jumping and shying away from Mantis's attempts to tickle you.

You glare at them but ignore him. "Mantis, go back to your book," you say firmly.

Mantis just giggles but finally starts backing away as you eye her.

Assuming you're safe you turn back to the bookshelf. You soon find the book you were searching for and reach up to pull it from the shelf when you feel it yet again, this time along your ribs. You jerk your arm down with a small squeak and turn to grab Mantis's hands again, your eyes wide. "I swear I will turn you over my knee!" You threaten, a faint giggle in your voice making you sound a whole lot less threatening than you wished at that moment.

The guys are snickering again and Mantis innocently asks what that means.

You sigh and release her. You had no intention of doing it anyway, it just came out. Something that your elders used to threaten when you misbehaved as a child. "Go." You say, pointing at her forgotten book in the rocking chair. "Read."

Seeing mirth glistening in your eyes despite your threatening tone she obeys with a happy giggle and you turn once again to retrieve the book you had come for. Louder snickers could be heard from Peter when you stopped your motion halfway to turn and check that she wasn't coming back. You narrowed your eyes at him before finally grabbing your book and leaving to do your research.

You found the mushrooms weren't poisonous after all.

***

The next day you decided to practice your archery.

Rocket was still being a shit, being rude to his friends and to you, and he kept fighting with Gamora and Peter. Kraglin somehow managed to break one of your favorite mugs. You found out that apparently Drax had been the one not flushing, and that was super awkward. You left Peter to deal with him. You tripped over Groot's vines at least five times. Mantis managed to startle you so bad you nearly had a heart attack (Though in her defense you had your music in so you didn't hear her approach to ask you a question) Then there was Yondu, who you felt like he was watching your every move.

Needless to say, you were looking to blow off some steam.

You had a target set up behind your work shed and along the wood line of the forest. You pulled about 20 practice arrows and your bow from the shed and walked behind to aim at your target.

You had been out there maybe an hour or two, just shooting the target full of arrows, gathering them up, and then shooting them again, all while you listened to your music.

You had emptied your quiver again when you felt a hand on your shoulder and nearly decked Peter, catching yourself just in time when you saw it was him.

You caught your breath and scolded him. "Don't DO that!"

"Sorry! Sorry! You couldn't hear me with your music in so I waited until you ran out of arrows." he reasoned. To be fair, it was a good idea. You probably definitely would have shot him with one if he snuck up on you like that before you ran out.

You sighed. "What do you need?"

"Nothing. Just, we hadn't seen you for awhile. I thought I'd see where you went. I know it was a little rough with everyone today."

You only grunted in response, going to collect your arrows.

He followed. "Look, I just want to apologize for everyone. I know you didn't need to let us stay-"

You cut him off. "Didn't I? Seems like Fury made the decision for me."

"Cut the crap."

You turn to give him a hard look that said, 'The hell did you just say?'

Peter backtracked slightly. "I mean, I was clearly there the day Fury sprang this on you. You offered before he told you he had already decided. You can't try to tell me now that you don't give a crap."

You narrow your eyes before turning to continue on toward your arrows. "Hell if I can't."

"Well I know better."

You reached your target and started pulling arrows. "You don't know me at all. You haven't even been here four days."

"Ok, that may be true, but we can still try to be friends since we're all stuck together, right?"

You stare at him a couple moments while you pulled the rest of your arrows, before huffing a breath through your nose and looking down.

"You need some time alone with the thought. That's ok." Peter said, relenting. "Just know the gang's not normally like this. They're still adjusting." He lied. He knew they were totally like this, but he was still hoping maybe they'd settle down enough to not make you hate them.

You sighed. He had a point. Maybe you shouldn't be avoiding them as hard as you had been. Maybe if you made an effort to be friendlier this whole situation would go smoother. "I suppose..." you began, "that maybe I have been a little..." you struggled for the right word.

"Grouchy? Scary?" Peter offered lightheartedly. "Like the crotchety old person they try to make you think is the masked monster in Scooby Doo, but it turns out to be some other guy that wants to scare them out of their house?

"Watch it." you say eyeing him, but your mouth twitched. He was right. Perhaps you had been a little 'crotchety.'

"Careful, that was almost a smile." Peter teased.

You broke your gaze toward the ground so you wouldn't actually smile. You weren't ready to let your guard completely down yet. It only half worked.

Peter grinned. It seemed like his plan to chip your shell away was working. Slowly, but still. Progress was progress. He turned to walk back towards the house.

"Hey," you spoke up.

He turned back to face you again.

"You hungry?" you ask. You offered to cook again. Stipulating that it was just because you were bored again, nothing fancy, and you weren't going to make a habit of it or anything, of course.

Peter nodded and smiled, accepting the offer as you joined him to walk back to the house, stopping just long enough to put your bow and quiver back away in the shed.

***

Peter offered to help cook again, and again you declined, stating that you were only cooking spaghetti and it was like the easiest thing to make as you pulled out a pot and filled it with water.

He didn't press it. Baby steps. He had already succeeded in getting you to (almost) smile, he wasn't going to push his luck. However...

You place the pot on the stove and turn on the flame when Peter says, "Ok, but one thing before I go."

"What's that?" you ask, stepping away from the stove to grab the salt container from the cupboard.

Peter took full advantage of you reaching up to quickly aim a poke to your sides, making you jolt with a squeak.

He quickly went to run away, almost knocking into Yondu who had walked into the kitchen for a drink.

"Dammit!" you cry out, unable to hide the surprised laughter from your voice. "You behave or I'll put you in that pot!"

Peter laughed. It was totally worth it.

Yondu just looked at him with a 'What the hell!?' expression, asking, "Why is it funny when she says it?"

***

The pasta was nearly done and you had started working on the sauce when you realized you had run out of dried basil. Knowing you had some fresh out in the garden you decided you'd hop out for a quick second to grab some. The flame under the sauce hadn't even been turned on yet, and you lowered the flame under the boiling pasta just out of habit before you went outside, so you trusted that leaving the stove unattended for five seconds would be fine.

However, fate had other plans.

While you were cooking Groot had convinced Rocket into another game of tag. Whether he deliberately disobeyed or simply forgot, you'd never know, but as he was running from Rocket he ran straight through the kitchen, and Rocket didn't stop him.

Didn't stop him has he climbed on the counter.

Didn't stop him as he jumped over to the table.

Certainly didn't stop him as he hopped onto the vent over the stove, though he most definitely should have.

Maybe it was arrogance on Rocket's part that he could make the jump, or even just sheer ignorance over his ability to keep a grip on the sloping metal, but as Rocket pursued Groot, always just slightly behind the tree child, and he made the jump from the table to the vent hood, he slid, and tried to correct by pushing off the (thankfully cool) saucepan, which knocked the pot off sauce off the stove as he lifted off with a loud clatter as it hit the floor.

Groot was fine, having by now hopped off the cabinet onto the floor. Rocket regained his footing, clinging to the cupboard above the stove as he surveyed the damage.

He knew he fucked up.

That's when you came back inside. He saw your face as you took in the mess, looked over to Groot, and then looked up at him.

He really fucked up.

The rest of the team also heard the clatter from the sitting room a few quickly came to see what had happened.

You didn't notice. You only saw red.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!"

Rocket started to reply with something snarky about not getting your "panties in a bunch" and how it could be cleaned but you cut him off before he could.

"He's made of wood!"

Rocket was slightly taken aback. "What?"

"That stove was- IS fucking lit." You reach over to shut off the burner under the pasta, side-stepping the mess. "What if he had caught fire? Or what if you knocked over the other pot? What if that fucking pot of boiling water had landed on either of you?! Do you even understand what that would have done to you?!"

By now the rest had heard you yelling and came to join the others in standing in the doorway to see what all the commotion was about. You still didn't notice them, you were too angry.

Rocket attempted to speak again. "I-"

You weren't finished. "I get it, he's a baby, he's still learning, but YOU most definitely should know better! But no! You think it's ok to play with him around a lit fucking stove! What the actual fuck! I swear, you're about as thick as manure but only half as useful!"

Rocket looked at the others in the doorway with wide eyes, not quite sure what to say. There was no way around it. This one was on him. They wore shocked expressions but also didn't say anything. Little Groot looked terrified at the (to him) giant angry lady screaming at Rocket.

You took a step back and finally assessed the mess. "And then there's all this!" you say, gesturing at the red tomato sauce now splattered all over your floor, your cupboards, the table & chairs, your stove. There was even sauce splattered on the window above the sink and the curtains, not to mention the walls. It was as if a tomato bomb went off in your kitchen.

You pressed the ball of your hand to your forehead. "You know what? No. I'm not dealing with this. Nope." You open the fridge, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. It was only then you saw the others standing in the doorway. You look to them, gesturing toward the pantry with the bottle. "Figure out your own damn supper." is all you say before walking out the back door and slamming it behind you.

Peter was the first to speak. He skipped asking Rocket what he had done, it was obvious by the red splattering the kitchen. Instead, what he said was more of a statement. "You really fucked up, man. You made her leave her own house."

"Should we go after her?" Drax asked. Mantis just stared at the giant mess as she hugged her bear, eyes wide. You had been very angry.

Yondu and Kraglin could see you out the back window, taking a swig from the whiskey bottle as you headed for the forest, much like you had the other night -minus the drinking of course. "No," said Yondu, "Probably a bad idea. Let her go."

Gamora agreed, and turned to glare at Rocket, demanding that he get down and help clean up the mess he had made.

Rocket actually looked kind of guilty looking toward the back door you had just left through. He didn't even argue back anything snarky, just did as Gamora asked without a word, which didn't go unnoticed as odd to the others.

He could have handled it if you had just yelled at him for making a mess. Could have shot back that you were uptight, had a stick up your ass- it was just a mess. Messes could be cleaned. Shit happens. Get over it.

But what he couldn't handle was that your first words, your first instinct, was to be angry that he had endangered Groot by allowing him to play near the stove. That he couldn't snark at- because you were right. What if Groot had caught fire? Or fell in the boiling pot?

He'd never forgive himself.

***

Hours had passed and half the bottle was gone before you finally returned.

Even in your drunken haze you saw that the kitchen had been cleaned, every trace of the tomato explosion gone. Even your curtains had been washed, dried, and re-hung.

You went to put what was left of the whiskey bottle back in the fridge, and saw someone had been kind enough to plop the pasta in a covered bowl and set it in the fridge so it wouldn't be wasted.

Not that you gave a shit.

Right now you wanted to sleep, and so you made your way to your room and collapsed on the bed.

Sleep didn't come right away. You faced the wall and covered your mouth, trying to hold back sobs from your anger, frustration, and sadness over everything. Even still drunk you had the presence of mind to know you didn't want anyone to hear you cry, especially since one of your new housemates was currently sharing your room and sleeping not two meters away.

The raccoon was a right asshole, the worst of the bunch. You wanted to strangle the little fecker, but knew you wouldn't. What you really just wanted was to be alone again, to bury yourself in work like you had before all this happened. Anything to keep your mind on other things-to push down the painful memories of your past that were now rudely breaking through your whiskey-addled brain and out your eyes.

Sleep did eventually come, and if you didn't know better you could have sworn you heard a gentle voice softly whispering, "Sleep," just before you passed out.

#gotg #guardians of the galaxy #x reader #roomates #peter quill #rocket raccoon #groot #yondu udonta #kraglin obfonteri #drax the destroyer #gamora #mantis #pasta

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 23 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Mild exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub, light choking, degradation/praise, sub space Word Count: 7.3k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

Waiting for Spencer Reid was an interesting position to be in. It was also, unfortunately, very, very common. You would think the IQ points would translate to efficiency, but you’d be very wrong. The only thing that boy does fast is read, and even that didn’t follow through to text messages, considering he’d read none of the six I’d sent him in the past hour.

So, naturally, as one does in an emergency, I called him. Unsurprisingly, the phone barely rang a second time before he picked up. Talking was, as we were both aware, his forte. Without even waiting for my greeting, his groggy voice came through the receiver with a song-like sound.

“Hello, little girl.”

But it wasn’t his turn to sing, and he knew damn well why I was calling. I could hear the smirk on his face so well that I could also envision exactly what he looked like in that moment, with his fluffy hair sticking up from constantly running his hands through it and his eyes only half-open as he tried to finish reading whatever horrible thing that he had in front of him.

It wasn’t how anyone should be spending their birthday. Especially not him. There wasn’t really anything I could do about it, though that didn’t make it any easier to hear the exhaustion and sadness behind that scratchy voice.

“What’re you doing up late? It’s past your bedtime, you know,” he chastised before I even had a chance to speak. He wasn’t wrong — It was 3AM where I was. But where he was, it’d just hit midnight.

“I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to my favorite old man,” I purred back once I’d managed to calm my fast-beating heart. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the brief rush of adrenaline and relief when I heard his voice for the first time after some time away.

I hoped not.

Spencer didn’t seem impressed by my reasoning, though. “You’re sweet. Go to sleep.”

“You’re up, too,” I whined, still picturing the way he would undoubtedly pull the phone further away to lessen the noise. I almost asked if he was also picturing me but stopped when I realized that whatever he had in mind was probably a lot more exciting than reality. Then again, he often told me that moments like this were his favorite. When we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open but too happy to be with each other to let them close all the way.

“Barely,” he corrected.

“Besides, I had to stay up. It’s your birthday.”

I’d meant to lift his spirits, but the long pause after I finished made it evident that my efforts were for naught. He almost seemed even more upset than when he’d answered, and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that hard, considering he was probably staring at images or words of dead people.

“Yeah, sure feels like it.”

His tone alone ensured me it was worse than my imagination.

“Put your work down and pay attention to me instead,” I suggested as softly as I could with the neediness bleeding through, “That’s the first part of your present.”

“You’re my present?” he asked through a gruff laugh that made my heart skip a beat, “I like that present.”

He was trying. I could feel it in his voice, and I wished more than anything that I could teleport to where he was and hold him until it was too difficult for his mouth to form a frown.

“You already have me. That’d be like regifting,” I pointed out with only a pinch of self-deprecation. It was still too much for Spencer, though, who swiftly shot back the ever cheesy, “Every day with you is a gift.”

“Gross, don’t get all sentimental with me,” I ordered playfully.

He returned the energy with all the sass I always knew he was capable of. Once his whining ceased, he mumbled, “Do you come with a gift receipt?”

“No returns or exchanges allowed, I’m afraid.”

Spencer just let out a strained sigh, and in my head, I imagined how it would feel to climb onto his lap as he leaned back in his chair. I could almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist and his lips peppering kisses wherever he could reach. I could feel his love for me flowing across the country, persisting past the cell tower obstacles to make its way back to me.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered, his first purely sincere statement of the night.

It was an unfortunate choice, too, because it also reminded me of the biggest bummer that I unfortunately had to share.

“Oh, I meant to tell you, it’s midterm season, so…”

He was, thankfully, not as bummed as I was expecting. He was almost certainly thrilled to have a chance to sleep spread out on his bed without having to satisfy the very needy girl beside him, but he still managed to come up with enough bratty energy to scoff, “Are you telling me that I don’t get my gift when I get home?”

“It’ll just be a few days. Promise,” I spoke through the biggest, cheesiest smile I’d had yet. “You’re very distracting, Dr. Reid.”

“When are your exams?” His enthusiasm gave away just how disappointed he was with the news, but any frustration was clearly aimed at my poor professors.

“My last one is on Wednesday.”

The gasp that left him was too funny not to laugh, followed by exasperated, blubbered nonsense that didn’t ever get much clearer. I barely managed to understand him when he cried, “Don’t they know Halloween should be a national holiday?!”

“You should call my professors and yell at them.”

He actually considered it for a moment, but then returned the same silly intonation, “Maybe I will.”  

“Do it. You’re probably more qualified than them to teach me, anyway.”

After a short silence that was filled with more sexual tension than I’d expected considering how the phone call started, I heard Spencer gruffly comment, “You’re a cocky little brat tonight.”

It was so familiar to me that I jumped on the opportunity, giggling through my sleep deprived delirium, “I’m in rare form for your birthday.”

The explanation earned me a chuckle, but not much else. At least, not that I could see. The static on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like the way it looked when Spencer leaned his face against his palm and tried to see something that wasn’t there.

But I was there. Sort of. We’d done a lot more with a lot less, after all. So, that’s what I offered him.

“You know… we could have a redo of the last time I called you late at night on a case.”

“That did not end well for me last time,” he droned. I tried not to laugh at the manufactured memory of Spencer holed up in a hotel bathroom because he just had to have me in whatever way he could.

“Only happy endings for your birthday. I promise.”

But then, as it always did, work got in the way. Filled with only the greatest sadness and regret, Spencer quietly but honestly replied, “As much as I would love to, I don’t think it’ll be possible on this case.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Unfortunately.”

I bit my lip because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help Spencer with his work any more than I could fix the distance. All I could offer him was a safe home to return to. He would always find that with me.

“Well, in that case, I will be equipped with cartoons and kisses upon your return,” I offered with grace.

But I wasn’t the only one in rare form. Without skipping a beat, Spencer corrected with a smug sadness, “You mean your return. Considering you’re abandoning me on my birthday.”  

“Oh my god, the drama!” I cried before remembering that it was, still, in fact, 3AM. The light grimace I gave after remembering would be the only apology my neighbors would get from me. I was too busy building a narrative happy enough to drown out the horrors in front of him. “You’d think I was the one who was away all the time.”

“I’m allowed to be selfish; it’s my birthday,” he sang, and I soaked in the sound, storing it away for any rainy days.

“Fine. What do you want, brat?” I asked in the worst attempt at an impression I’d ever given.

He was just waiting for the question. Drawing out the first couple of syllables, he laughed through the stupidest birthday wish of all time.

“I want… you to go to bed.”

“Ugh!” I yelled again, not even bothering to feel bad about it that time. My exasperation fell on deaf ears, both from a willful desire to ignore my suffering and a literal ringing from the constant yelling.

Still, that impossible man drummed up enough compassion to gloat with a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, jerk,” I grumbled, only to be swiftly corrected with a playful, “Try that again.”

“I love you, too, old man.”

He was satisfied enough with that answer, despite the sarcasm dripping from it. He still knew that the words were true, and that was all that mattered. Any punishments that might be necessary for my broken promise to behave for his birthday could always be doled out later. When the distance between us was narrowed to inches and clothes could be removed like cheap wrapping paper.

“Thank you, little girl. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, reminding me once more of just how empty my bed felt without him. I stared at his pillow for just one second before I threw myself into it. He chuckled at the sound of rustling sheets over the receiver but said nothing else.  

“You get some sleep tonight, too, okay?” I asked, uncharacteristically and openly vulnerable in a way that used to scare me.

Spencer’s voice was filled with pride and love as he answered, “You can’t see it, but I am giving you a pinky promise.”

“Good.” Burying my face in his pillow again made it easier to remember that it wouldn’t be forever when I said, “Bye, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, little girl.”

—————————————————

Autumn on campus felt pretty similar to the rest of the year. I wished that it were different, a little more exciting, to reflect how I felt about the impending holiday. But no, it was just students stumbling into their usual classes and hectically scheduled midterms with hangovers and a total lack of holiday cheer.

It was, in a few words, a complete bummer. The only thing that kept me going through the last of my exams was the knowledge that I’d be seeing Spencer. Unfortunately, he was still doing that rather annoying thing where he refused to answer my text messages. It wasn’t until he ignored even my most ridiculous threats that I realized something was going on.

The ‘Read’ notification sat menacingly on my screen, and I was so fixated on it that I almost didn’t notice the familiar mop of brown curls visible in the front row of the auditorium. But once I saw it, the phone was forgotten faster than ever before. I ran down the steps at a ridiculously dangerous pace, dodging the others still grumbling from their previous exams.

I landed in front of him with only enough breath left to sneer, “You’re in my seat.”

“Surprise,” he said with my favorite smug, self-assured smile.

“Adorable. Now move,” I ordered with a wave of my hand. As much as I loved the guy, I wasn’t about to change my seating arrangement for him. It was beginning to make sense, though, why my friend told me that she wouldn’t be sitting with me today.

“Fine,” he sighed, taking his sweet time moving seats and watching me happily bounce on my feet in the meantime. I snuck behind him into the seat before he’d even fully stood up. That little amount of friction between our bodies seemed to be enough to cause the tension to mount. It’d only been seconds, but I was already seriously considering abandoning the class. To hell with the professor who’d already seen me.

But Spencer’s eyes locked on mine, and he leaned onto the armrest with that same silly smirk.  

“It’s a workday, Dr. Reid,” I whispered, forcing my arm next to his and watching the way his pupils grew as I came closer.

“I might have pulled a few strings,” he replied just as quietly, keeping the illusion of secrecy despite many prying eyes around us, “Might’ve told Hotch I was invited.”

“But you weren’t,” I snorted.

Spencer’s head hung in just a little bit of shame, but his wide smile never waned. It was still there, bright and pure in its simplicity as he softly admitted, “Yeah. I lied. But I’m here now.”

There were no complaints about that fact, either. His pinky reached out to mine, twining together in the dim light of the auditorium. Somehow, for a brief second, I forgot about everything else. The noisy chatter meant nothing to me, the two of us lost in some alternate pocket universe that felt safe and warm from the cold air outside.

But time resumed, and I watched as Spencer took his eyes off of me first, turning instead to the lecturer watching us with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Good morning everyone! We have a special guest with us today.”

I wanted to pay attention to his little introduction, but I couldn’t. Every word that was said about him sounded so clinical. It felt so empty compared to the truth I knew about him. He was so much more than a collection of publications and PhDs.

He was… indescribable. Even as his mouth formed a flat line and his awkward handshake was granted to the crowds of disinterested students, all I saw was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even if it was only from the shadows of his greatness. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever let me feel that way.

Speaking of…

"Dr. Reid, the only thing I ask is for you to give these wonderful students a chance to show you what they know,” my professor started with a laugh before he so kindly continued, “So go easy on them." 

In any other situation, I might have let it slide. I would have accepted the fact that Spencer was far beyond my intellect and not stand up for myself. But this time, Spencer was on my turf.

"All due respect to Dr. Reid, I don't think he needs to go easy on us,” I called from the front row, only audible to the other dutiful students that cared enough to sit up front. I heard Spencer laugh beside me, shaking his head just a little bit at the challenge. He didn’t say anything though, and I returned my eyes to the professor who was already familiar with my antics as I boasted, "At least not on me." 

While Spencer caught on to the fairly obvious double entendre, shifting his crossed legs closer, the professor just wrote it off as my usual academic pride.

“I did try to warn you that that one might get competitive,” he commented. At this point, everyone had definitely figured out my relation to the man next to me. It was kind of hard to hide a bullet wound from your school. But again, I was so caught up in the man beside me that I didn’t even feel a little shame at their playful teasing.

Spencer’s commentary was the only thing that mattered, and he gave it with a dreamy sigh. "I'm not offended at all. I'm sure she's very clever." 

The little bit of light left in the room started to fade, and once I was shrouded by the shadows, I felt confident enough in my plan to dig through the bag at my feet to pull out probably the nerdiest item in it.

A fucking back-up clicker. Which, I promptly handed to the man beside me.

“You’re in seat B4,” I whispered gruffly, earning yet another snarky chuckle from my boyfriend.

“Is that a challenge?”

I didn’t answer. Not him, anyway. What I did answer was the question that had appeared on the screen.

“Ms. (Y/n)?” My professor called, recognizing my seat number without even looking up.

Luckily for me, today was nothing but a review day of the midterm I’d already taken. While I knew all of the questions and, what I’d hoped were the right answers, Spencer had to read the questions from scratch. Really, it didn’t give me an edge. It just put us on equal playing ground.

As I gave my answer, I watched in my peripherals as Spencer’s eyes narrowed and tongue peeked out from lips that I still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss today.

It was a bad thing to think about, because my brief reverie of the things that mouth was capable of reminded me of another one. I didn’t even notice another question had appeared on the screen, and when I heard the familiar buzz of an attempted answer, I shared my Professor’s temporary confusion.

“Ah, Dr. Reid,” he laughed, probably already regretting welcoming the bastard here, “Please explain the answer.”

But there was another thing working in my favor: My boyfriend’s giant fucking ego. Really, it should be impossible that someone who was normally super insecure could enjoy showing off as much as he did. My professor didn’t mind, because Spencer’s long-winded answer was a wonderful review of… basically the entire course, and I didn’t mind because it granted me the one thing I needed.

Time. Time to slowly remove my jacket and reveal the sweater underneath. Spencer’s eyes caught the motion, glancing over only a couple of times while he managed to give his answer. It wasn’t until I started to remove the sweater that he cut his answer short.

His throat clearing told me he wanted my attention, but I was still just too distracted for him. I fanned my chest that felt warm for reasons other than the temperature of the room, guaranteeing his eyes would stay there long enough for me to catch the next question before he had a chance.

Or so I thought. Because before the question appeared, I made the positively stupid mistake of meeting his gaze. As soon as I did, my mind was stuck there, drowning in molasses and honey and—

“Dr. Reid, please feel free to continue to do my job for me. Lord knows I would love a break,” the professor joked, and I almost felt guilty for just how genuine he sounded. Not like Spencer would have noticed passive aggression if it existed.

Not like either of us would have cared. Per usual, we were so lost in the space of B4 and B5 that we didn’t care about the rest of the alphabet. All we cared about was winning. It was growing more and more obvious to me, though, that I would have to become a little more ruthless if I wanted to bring down the bona fide genius.  

The sound of his voice rang through the auditorium loud, clear, and confident. He didn’t need to worry if he was right or not, because he knew he was. The smugness was grating to my ears. I knew I couldn’t trick him into making a mistake, but there was one thing I could do.

I’d learned one thing very well in my time with Spencer, and that was how to manipulate that pretty little voice of his.

For example, if I wanted to hear it catch in his throat and come out a few pitches higher, all I would have to do is touch him. The riskier the touch, the higher his voice would go. Which was why I spread out the jacket over my lap, making sure that our legs were close enough that it covered him, too. Then I waited, calmly and kindly listening to him drone along until there was a natural enough inflection to hide evidence of any nefarious actions. Just as his voice started to rise, I slid my hand over his knee.

Spencer barely stuttered, just enough for me to know he was affected, but not enough for anyone else to notice. He took the loss with grace, quickly ending his answer with a summary that contained only half as many words as he would have normally provided.

He kept a few for me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shifting close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my ear.

“All’s fair in love and war,” I hummed. His breath caught again when I began stroking my thumb over his leg that had just started to bounce.

“This is wildly inappropriate.”

“How perceptive,” I returned with my own little smirk. The interaction caught us both, trapping us in the alternate dimension that existed when we held each other. His hand found its way to mine, and his thumb brushed over the back and sent goosebumps shooting over my skin.

I’d practically abandoned our pursuits altogether when I heard my friend’s voice as she took the question that we’d both missed. I should’ve been upset for losing after all that I’d gone through for my strategy to succeed, but it was hard to feel anything other than butterflies when Spencer was still looking at me like that.  

Even when I looked away, he stayed, patiently waiting for me to take the final question in the review. I granted him a chance to take it, but he just shook his head, implicitly asking me to take the win for the both of us. Even when we were competing, we were always on the same team.

There were no more distractions as I explained the answer as simply as I could. I was positive the rest of the class was tired of hearing our voices, but Spencer never stopped smiling. I could feel the pride rolling off of him, his hand growing tighter around mine as he took in a deep breath.

“Very good, (y/n),” my professor announced, signaling the end and initiating a large sigh of relief from everyone else.

Spencer sighed too, although his was with a different kind of relief; a dreamy, soft sound as he muttered under his breath, “Just like I said. Very clever.”

The air felt positively electric, and I never hated my class more than I did in that moment. The rest of the period ticked by so slowly that I almost swore the clocks were broken. Once we were allowed to leave, Spencer insisted on sticking around to thank the professor for his hospitality.

I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I tried to be as patient as possible, even though it seemed pointless. Spencer’s little grin told me he knew very well what he was doing. The conversation had dragged on for practically five minutes of agony while I idled by the door.

But then my professor passed, and I felt the adrenaline course through my veins in seconds. As anticipated, we didn’t even make it out of the building before the tension broke. We’d barely even made it down the goddamn hallway before I shoved his scrawny ass into the first empty classroom I found. Once the door clicked shut behind us, the roles were quickly reversed.

I hadn’t seen him that excited in so long that I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in his undertow. I couldn’t keep track of his hands or his mouth as they marked any bare skin they could find. But no matter how frantic and uncoordinated the movements were, they never ceased to send chills down my spine.

“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” I managed to slur between sloppy, heated kisses. It was barely comprehensible through the pent-up lust that had driven us there in the first place, but it still felt worth saying.

Spencer, however, made his feelings very clear with a gruff, forceful, “I don’t care.”

His hands were already roaming over my hips, pulling me so close to the edge that I nearly fell off the counter entirely. While I was laughing at his haste, he was busy leaving angry marks on my collarbone, pulling the top of my shirt down to grant him more access. And despite how badly my body burned with desire and need, I drummed up just enough self-preservation to force out a few, regrettable words.

“Take me home.”

Even though I tried to make it sound more seductive than a normal request to stop, it brought the momentum to a halt. Spencer immediately stopped his kisses, but let his hands continue to stroke loving patterns over the sides of my thighs.

“Don’t you have other classes?” he asked. The feeling of his breath against my ears making me second-guess my already voiced decision. But as enticing as the idea was of having him now, having already waited over a week, I knew we could have so much more fun with a little bit of privacy.

“Don’t you have work?” I teased, hoping that it would spur him to take the action we both knew was safer. At the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to poke fun at the academic in him.

“Unless this is your way of telling me you've always wanted to fuck a girl in a lab because, I must admit I'd be more than happy to oblige." 

Spencer’s whole body tensed as he imagined just what it would feel like to take me in such a public place. After a couple seconds that I can only imagine were filled with fantasies and a reasonable fear, he pulled me from my seat on the counter and placed me back on the ground.

“Let’s go,” he said, pulling me by my wrist towards the door.

I only barely managed to stop him with both hands on his arm. He turned back to look at me like I’d done some horrible thing, but I was too busy trying to stop the laughter that was spilling from my chest.

“You’re uh—” I cleared my throat, pointing to the very noticeable tent in his slacks before I keened through the giggles, “You’re gonna have to do something about that.”

With a quick glance down, Spencer remembered the very unfortunately obvious trait of the male anatomy. “Fuck,” he stated plainly.

I couldn’t resist.

“I mean, I’m down,” I joked one final time.  

“Shut up!” Spencer laughed, too, trying and failing to adjust himself in his pants while I just enjoyed the show.

After all, we both knew that once we were alone, he would get a reprieve from my ridicule. He would get whatever he wanted.

—————————————————

The chaotic clashing of hands and mouths continued seconds after we’d reached our destination. The empty apartment had all of the sounds of our desperation echoing back to us, and after soaking in the melodious noise for a few seconds, I snapped back to reality.

“Okay, she doesn’t get home for another 30 minutes at the earliest so, we’d better hurry,” I urged, trying to shove Spencer off of me to convince him to move. It barely worked, with his arms clutching tighter the harder I struggled to get away.

Wrapped together just like that, the two of us barely made it a few feet before we almost tumbled to the ground. That was just enough of a reminder of our lack of coordination for Spencer to finally, begrudgingly, release me. Kind of. His hand still held tight to mine, and our laughter still combined the whole way to our bed.

From there, Spencer felt confident in our privacy to answer, “That’s fine. I usually tear open my gifts pretty quickly.”

It was a very good metaphor for the way his hands worked over my clothes. I didn’t even try to pinpoint the moment where being naked no longer made me feel nervous. I let the scar tissue show because neither of us were going to look at it, anyway. We were too caught up in the slight shifts and nuances of our faces as we rushed towards our one mutual goal.

“I missed you,” I mumbled, the words feeling as natural as breathing itself.

“I missed you, too,” he returned, and I felt the raw emotion, the sincerity and desire in every syllable. But once it was over and he had finally managed to remove everything but my underwear, all that was left was an all-encompassing, mind-altering level of lust.

“God, watching you in class was so fucking frustrating,” he strained, his upper lip curling with disdain as he watched my body squirm against the sheets.

“Why’s that?”

“I wanted you so badly.”

There was no denying that it was the honest truth, and I didn’t even want to try. I wanted to gloat and bask in the confirmation that his presence was dangerous for my academic career. Not to mention my sanity.  

“Like I said. You’re very distracting.”

Then, to prove my point, that brilliant bastard shoved his hand under the band of my underwear. He only held me softly for one second before he slid his fingers through the slickness and thrust them roughly into me. It hadn’t been that long, but the emptiness I felt before was even more apparent now that I had any part of him inside of me again.

“Am I?” he chimed with a smile.

I wanted to be bratty, to fight the tension that was building and appear unfazed by his ministrations, but there was simply no pretending. Not when my body was already on the verge of spasming around his fingers that seemed to stroke the perfect place within me with every movement.

“Jesus Christ,” I sighed. I should’ve known better than to give him ammunition.

“You’ve resorted to blasphemy already?”

Spencer partnered the tease with a ruthless thrust, burying his fingers to the knuckle inside of me and holding them there. He waited until I ran out of breath and struggled to take another while also trying not to scream in a mixture of frustration and devastating need for more.

“I thought I told you we had to hurry?”

“We’ve got time,” he shot back without pause, “You’re just being a needy little brat.”

“Yes, I am,” I whined just as quickly, “I’m a fucking brat and I need you.”

He almost seemed disappointed in my compliance. His fingers began moving again, eliciting noises that were louder, higher, and sweeter after the anticipation. He tried to draw the attitude out of me by stopping again, waiting for a quip that didn’t come.

“Awww, no fight?” he cooed.

“I can’t. It’s your birthday,” I grumbled before biting my tongue. The pressure was becoming so unbearable I thought I might honestly draw blood. But after another few seconds of torture that felt like a lifetime, Spencer withdrew his hand completely.

He was testing the limits, watching how far I would let him go before begging. But even when he took the same soaked fingers and began rubbing me from the outside of my underwear, I only opened my mouth to steal quick, soft breaths and give pitiful whines.

“Oh, I like this…” he laughed, apparently having gotten past his concern about my sudden compliance, “I could get used to you behaving.”

The song-like cadence got to me, threatening to spark and ignite everything I was holding back. I almost bit back. I almost let the desire scorch my throat with a few choice words for the very rude genius, but I didn’t. The only thing that stopped me was the feel of cotton sliding down my thighs as he removed the final barrier between us.

“You’d miss my misbehaving,” I said with a chuckle. The sound mixed with another, a deep moan that filled my chest when I felt him press himself against my entrance. My back arched, causing him to slip inside of me just enough for us to both lose our words.

“I don’t know…”

If I’d wanted to say anything, my mouth wouldn’t have let me. It was too busy singing his praise while simultaneously begging him to silence it. My lips floundered for a kiss that he hung just far enough away from me to deny. Satisfaction was painted over every feature as he started to enter me, brushing his lips against my mouth every few seconds just to pull away before I was granted the intimacy I sought.

“You do look rather cute when you’re begging.”

It was strange, the way my body started to predict his movements. I met him in the middle of every motion, and I swore even our breath became synchronized in its rapid firing. It wasn’t until his hand rested over my throat we broke the rhythm. I wasn’t going to complain, letting the energy flow down my spine that arched towards him on instinct. His hips never stopped, and I could tell by the way his breath hitched and his fingers grew tighter around my neck that the new angle was as wonderful for him as it was for me.

“You look so sweet when you let go of every ounce of self-preservation and dignity you have and put your life in my hands,” he whispered with an affection that almost seemed odd considering the context. But then there was something else in his moans, a genuine gentleness that made my already arrhythmic heart beat faster.

“You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” he asked as his movements stayed calm and careful. Loving and safe.  

I didn’t even notice my eyes had closed, but it ultimately didn’t matter. Because when I opened them, I saw the same man that existed in every image behind my eyelids. The only indication he got that I was still capable of communication was the gentle curve of my lips that dropped open in a pleased sigh as his hips continued a slow, tender pace.

It still felt like too much, but not in a bad way. It was too much in the sense that I was reminded once again just how ruined he’d made me. And the smug little shit knew it, too.

“You don’t have a single thought in that pretty little head, do you?” he cooed, dragging his hand up the column of my throat to force his fingers against my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to fight back. I soaked the digits that still tasted like me with my jaw left open. His pupils dilated as he watched the spit pool in my mouth that awaited his instruction.

“You just want to be used. Like the perfect little doll you are.”

Unlike my own, his smile was more of a smirk. A crooked, ever so slightly wicked quirk that made my muscles tense around him in their own version of an affirmative answer. He took it, happily. His body crashed into mine, but it merely felt like an extension of myself returning home like the waves meeting the shore. I could feel him claiming his rightful place at the deepest parts of me, making his home with every powerful motion of his hips.

I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I didn’t want to. It felt unnecessary.

“My sweet little girl,” he muttered with an unbelievably chaste kiss in the center of my forehead, “You’d do anything to make your daddy happy.”

I felt detached from myself in a way that didn’t feel me with fear or pain. I could feel myself through his hands, strong and working the pliable flesh of my thighs as he held them up so that he could drive into me harder.

His eyes, also only half open, burned with intensity. I could feel the determination, the undying desire to grant me a serenity that no one else could. His need for me to feel safe and loved with the seemingly contradictory brutality.

But it wasn’t contradictory. The power behind every movement, the insistence on being as close to me as he possibly could, might have caused some physical pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of sharing this space with him. Of sharing my body with him just to see what he would do with it. I already knew, but I wanted to feel it again and again. Because with each stroke of his hand and thrust of his hips, I felt it.

Spencer had free rein to do whatever he wanted, and he chose to love me.

“I’m so close. You know what I want,” he pleaded despite holding all of the power. He handed it to me with a low groan, trying to kiss my lips while he commanded, “Do it. Come for me.”

My body obeyed his command, falling to pieces around him with shockwaves breaking over every inch of me. My vision went white, crafting a halo of light around him as he also found himself reaching a peak that seemed different than the times we’d shared before.

I tried to figure out what had changed, what about this time made it unique. But as the euphoria faded, all I saw staring back at me was the same face as always, radiating a joy and understanding that warmed damp, chilly skin. Spencer’s release provided a similar warmth within me, and my body clung to him even tighter despite the exhaustion.

My breathing took its time to even out, but I was in no rush to leave him. I would have stayed like that forever, with Spencer covering me like the silliest, boniest blanket. If it wasn’t for the dead weight he eventually dropped on me, we probably would’ve spent the whole day lost in the covers. But he could thank the scars for me being a little less forgiving.

Of course, thankful is not the word to describe him at all. Whiny was more like it. Even as I turned our bodies together so that I would still be sitting on his lap, he did nothing but groan and bitch about it. That is, until I silenced him with a kiss that barely brushed over his lips.

That was enough to turn his frown back to the dopey smile I loved so much.

“Happy birthday, old man,” I purred, enjoying the way his hands grabbed me tighter at the loving nickname. But age wasn’t what was on his mind. I could see it in the way his eyes tore past my defenses and he held me closer like we could actually become one if he tried hard enough.

“I’m so in love with you, it’s infuriating,” he whispered.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

Spencer wasn’t in a joking mood, though. All of his humor seemed to be expended earlier in the day, and now he was just left with all the mushy, romantic innards that I normally kept at bay.

It wasn’t that bad, though, I thought as his hands framed my face so our foreheads would touch. There were worse things to be trapped with.

“It’s true,” he mumbled with his voice still high and slurred together, “I look at you and there is just… nothing that can be said that would ever explain the way it feels.”

“Gross,” I joked.

“Get used to it,” he returned. And if that wasn’t enough to make me laugh, he stuck his tongue out in the most childish display I’d seen from him since he’d fucking licked my hand on our picnic. It was also just charming enough that I was willing to let the sappy stuff slide.

“I’ll be nice to you this time,” I grumbled. “But also, speaking of time, you’d better hurry up if you don’t want to do the walk of shame with an audience.”

Spencer’s arms fell limp with a dramatic cry before he used them to cover his face once more.

“Ugh. Go,” he ordered. Despite his words, he still made me fight against greedy hands to wrestle my way out of bed. It would have been smarter to let me go quickly. I really don’t know what he was thinking, but he would learn his mistake soon enough. Because as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard a very amused voice chiming down the hall on the other side of the door.

“Good afternoon, Spencer.”

I debated not opening the door and freeing Spencer from the unbelievably uncomfortable position he’d just found himself in, but ultimately decided it was too cruel. Still, the stalling had taken up enough time that the poor guy felt compelled to reply.

And, of course, the only thing he could think to say was a pathetic, high pitched, “Hi.”

Somehow managing to contain the absolutely riotous laughter I felt in my gut, I opened the door with the straightest face I could muster.

It wasn’t enough. Spencer saw the pleasure I took in his humiliation and practically shoved me out of the bathroom to take my place behind the doors. While I found the action endearing in the most awkward way, my roommate was mostly just confused about how the fuck I’d managed to find someone as stupid as me.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” she said once she managed to smile at the silly situation.  

Clearing my throat, I tried to sound sincere in my bullshit apology. “Me either, sorry.”

In a way, I think the fact I couldn’t pull myself together worked in my favor. Normally, she would have scolded me (albeit playfully) for not alerting her of what she might be walking in on, but this time, she just tried to withhold the smile that still stretched over her cheeks despite her best efforts.

“You’re fine,” she sighed, giving in to the desire to go against her usual grumpy demeanor before retreating to her own room. “Have fun, you hooligans.”

Once her door clicked shut, I heard shuffling on the other side of the door next to me. Spencer’s shadow was visible from the light peeking out underneath, and I waited a few more restless seconds before I announced, “You can come out now, Spencer.”

Cautiously, the door creaked open just enough for his head to poke out and confirm that I wasn’t trying to trick him.

“I’ve never been a hooligan before,” he said with a bounce in his step and his eyebrows halfway up his face. To think that he was the same man who threatened to arrest me for existing at a nightclub was, in a word, hilarious.

“Well, good news for you,” I purred, and the sound must have reminded him of my more devilish nature, because his jubilance quickly shifted back to an obvious anxiety. I wrapped my arms around him even when it meant that his muscles tensed, dragging him down so I could whisper in his ear, “I was just about to ask if you wanted to help me play hooky.”

“And do what?”

It felt strange to say that I hadn’t really thought about it. That the second I’d seen him I knew that the day would be good and free and fun. That everything felt so perfectly fine that I didn’t even want to challenge it with a schedule.

Spencer looked at me, his answer apparent in the way he started to relax the longer we stayed wrapped up in a shitty apartment hallway. It didn’t matter what I said. Spencer would have followed me, just like I would have done for him.

And without the angst or uncertainty of what could go wrong, there was only one thing left for us to do. With a shrug and pout, I proposed the riskiest plan we’d had yet.

“Whatever we want.”

—————————————————

| Finale |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #here to misbehave #h2m #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid series #reid series #spencer reid request #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #dr spencer reid #reid request

[odos-bucket]

Bruce Being Super Protective of His Kids in Their Out-Of-Costume Lives Pt. 2 Re-Write

Basically this story with a little bit of extra angst injected in

Jason isn’t particularly well adapted to the kinds of social gatherings that Bruce’s position within the city demands they participate in. He attends his first event a few months into his stay at Wayne manor. He goes in fully expecting it to be terrible, and is not disappointed.

The old ladies trying to pinch his cheeks were something that Dick had warned him about. His tone had been light, like maybe it was something that he thought was funny, or was trying to think of as funny. But Jason doesn’t like to be touched, not by people he doesn’t know. He's only just starting to feel okay about casual physical affection from his new family. He doesn’t think Dick was trying to scare him exactly, but he accomplishes it anyway.

From the time the shindig begins he’s wound so tight he’s practically vibrating. He has no idea how he’s supposed to act at something like this. Things he’s never thought about before are suddenly tormenting him. He can’t figure out how to stand, or what he should be doing with his hands. He’s never been self conscious, but now he’s in this stupid room, wearing this stupid suit, surrounded by these stupid people, and it’s making him feel awkward.

The first time somebody tries to touch him he flinches away violently. He doesn’t mean to; it’s just what happens. It earns him a series of incredulous looks, from the man who had made the mistake of putting a hand on his shoulder, and a few other people in the vicinity.

Jason relocates himself quickly, not that one corner of the large room is really any better than any other.
 The next time someone tries to touch him, it’s his face. He had already decided that he didn’t like the woman in question before it happened. Her voice is an annoying pitch. Her words are all condescending. And even before reaching out for him she had been standing way too close.

If the proximity hadn’t been enough to put him on high alert the patronizing way she spoke to him certainly would have done it.

When her fingers come to press against his chin- as if she wants to turn his head to examine him- he pushes her away. Again, he doesn’t mean to do it exactly. It’s an instinctive reaction (and a pretty reasonable one, he thinks).

This time, however, he gets more than a few suspicious stares. The movement itself had been subtle enough not to draw any attention he didn’t already have. But the woman replies with an outraged squawk, that suddenly brings dozens of eyes onto them, and sets Jason’s heart racing at a panicked pace.
 He freezes. Being stared at had been pretty high on his list of things to avoid tonight. And now people are talking too.
 “Why you little-“

“What happened?”

“Wayne’s little rat-“

“Did you just hit her?”

“Delinquent-“

“Did he just hit her?!”

The woman he shoved looks like she might be about to slap him, but he’s honestly less concerned about that than he is about the mix of curious and indignant bystanders drawing closer. They’re not surrounding him really, but it sure as hell feels like they’re trying to, and Jason’s had enough experiences being surrounded to know that it never leads to anything good. At the moment he’s having a hard time processing anything beyond the terrified impulse to lash out again, not to hurt anyone, just to get them away, so that maybe he can get away.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Oh god, Bruce. Jason’s not surprised the scene got his attention, but he’s a little startled to hear a much darker tone than his regular civilian voice.

Every muscle in his body that wasn't already tense tightens up, and heat flares at the back of his neck. He doesn't want to be in trouble. He doesn't even really know what being in trouble means in this new life yet, and he's been hoping to put off finding out as long as possible.

Bruce forces his way through the crowd. Some of the onlookers redirect their attention away as he approaches. A handful of voices from different directions make overlapping attempts to answer his question. Jason hears something about how he’s, “not as well behaved as your last stray,” but isn’t looking up in time to see how the comment makes Bruce bristle, and just feels the warm shame that he wishes it didn’t ignite in him.

Bruce reaches them in seconds, takes in the woman’s body language, and immediately drags her several feet back from Jason. When he speaks, he manages to sound like Batman (at least to Jason’s knowing ears), even without the voice modulator.

"You will never put your hands on my child again.”

Jason's not sure what he had been expecting Bruce to say, but that wasn't it, and hearing it gives him whiplash, makes his heart that had already been beating in his throat stutter to a halt.

“I didn-“ the woman begins. “Your urchin-“

“Did you touch him?” Bruce's voice is deceptively calm.

“I was only-“

“Yes or no.”

��I didn’t hurt him,” she scoffs.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

Jason wants to say that it doesn't matter, that it isn't a big deal, because really it shouldn't be. He shouldn't be afraid to be touched; it's just one more thing about him that so glaringly doesn't belong. But he's still not sure whether or not he's in trouble, and if he is then he's learned from experience that it's better to keep his mouth shut.

“Mr. Wayne, the kid attacked her. All she did was touch him.” One of the few onlookers who isn’t pretending not to be paying attention pipes in.
 Bruce’s jaw grinds, as he looks slowly between the man who had spoken, and the woman.

“So you did touch him?”

“This is ridiculous!”

It's somehow the worst thing she could have possibly said. Jason already knows he's ridiculous. He can feel it with every fiber of his being, and the confirmation that everyone else can apparently see it too sparks a stinging sensation at the back of his throat.

“On that we’re agreed.” Bruce slips further into his regular public persona as he speaks, and Jason flinches slightly at his words.

Bruce looks over the remains of the audience they’d acquired, making pointed eye contact, silently subduing any conflict before it can arise. By the time he turns back to where the woman had been standing, she’s hurried away. The sparse handful of people still shooting them scandalized glares are at least a little easier to ignore.

Bruce approaches Jason, who forces himself to keep his eyes open and his gaze up.

He's getting ready to apologize. He hadn't wanted to embarrass Bruce, or to get him in trouble with whoever the hell those people had been- with his luck probably someone important. He doesn't want to be in trouble either, but he recognizes that that ship has probably sailed already. He just wishes he knew what kind of punishment to expect; he hasn't been here that long, and adult behavior is hard to predict.

“Are you okay?”

Jason blinks, and apparently it takes him longer than he thinks to process and respond to the question, because Bruce asks it again.

This time he nods, figuring it’d be pretty stupid for him not to be okay.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Bruce asks.

Jason knows that it's not really a question; he's already done enough damage for the night after all. He nods his head. He’s not totally sure how to get back to the manor from here- he still doesn’t know this part of town very well- but he’s sure he’ll be able to figure it out before Bruce wraps up here.

“Let’s get our coats.”

Jason looks up in surprise, but Bruce is already walking away.

Right. He guesses it makes more sense that they’d be leaving together. He's noticed that rich families like to keep any shows of conflict private. One of the consequences of which being that he still doesn’t know how the hell these people discipline their children.

He nods again, cheeks still burning with embarrassment.

-

They leave the party without further incident, catching a cab back to the manor.

Bruce observes Jason’s defensive body language as they slide into the backseat.

“Are you sure you’re okay, lad?” He asks slowly.

He receives a tight nod in reply, and sighs.

“Do you want to help me get a better picture of what happened in there?”

Because what he’s looking at isn’t okay. He’s seen his witty, outgoing child shut down like this before, and it usually means he’s scared. Bruce needs to know if he was spooked by something innocuous, or if he’s going to need to hurt someone.

Jason turns from being seemingly caught off guard by the question, to apparently desperate to answer it in the span of a second.

“I swear I didn’t hit her! It was just that she-“ He shakes his head, apparently deciding against whatever he’d been about to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what? You’re not in trouble, Jason, not unless I’m really missing something here.”

That earns him a long suspicious look.

“I don’t like to be touched,” Jason grumbles after a minute.

“And people shouldn’t feel entitled to touch you.”

He learned pretty quickly when he first became a parent not to assume that adults would always respect children’s boundaries. And he knows that Jason has been hurt. He’s not sure exactly how, or by who, but the signs are all there. And he shouldn’t have to deal with being forcibly reminded of that by the carelessness of others; he’s a kid for god’s sake!

“Is that all-“ He stops himself from finishing the question. “People shouldn’t feel entitled to touch you,” he reiterates. “Can you tell me if anything else happened? If anyone hurt you, or threatened you?”

Jason starts to shake his head, but stops with his neck angled slightly toward Bruce.

“I thought she was gonna hit me,” he admits.

Bruce’s body tenses up. He had noticed that himself when he’d first entered the scene, and what he had read in her body language had made him see red.

“And then there were so many other people,” Jason continues. “And they were talking, and staring at me. It had me feeling kind of boxed in.”

“I’m so sorry, son.”

Jason looks a little startled up at him.

“Just to be clear,” he says slowly. “I’m not in trouble?”

“You’re not in trouble,” Bruce confirms. “I promise I will always do whatever I can to protect you from people like that.”

#batfamily #batfam #bruce wayne #jason todd #batdad #batman and robin #dc #my writing #dcu #batman #*John Mulaney voice* ''that's the same story twice'' #i know #shh

[marinetteplztakeabreak]

I need to share soft sign language buddies ninogami headcanon because they’re taking over my brain always:

(This got so long, so youre welcome if youre also starved for ninogami content)

Nino’s mom is Deaf , so he grew up signing as much as speaking. When he was younger he always signed as he talked.

It turned out he’s also Hard of Hearing, so sign language is way easier for him to understand most of the time.

However, though he’s great at making friends, he’s very awkward when it comes to talking about himself. So never comes up in conversation.

It’s not a self-deprication issue. It’s just a “thinking of things to say is hard and I’d rather have someone else do the talking” thing. He’d rather talk about anyone except himself.

Additionally! He’s great at helping other people, but he’s terrible at asking for help. He does not EVER want to be like “hey i cant understand what you’re saying, my ears dont work great,” its his worst nightmare

And it doesnt help that there have been a few cases of people being rude about it when he doesnt hear them after they repeat themselves. And possibly worse, there have been even more cases of people giving over-the-top apologies instead of just,, telling him what they said. So it’s not worth the trouble in his mind

with his few close friends who still dont know, it feels like its too late and it’d be awkward to bring it up, so he just… doesnt. He’s procrastinating on telling them he cant hear them

He stopped signing as much as he talked in middle school because strangers would always be like “woah thats so cool, how do you know sign language” and he’d just panic because he was an awkward tween, and he didnt know if he was comfortable telling them he was HoH, but ALSO just saying his mom was Deaf and not mentioning himself felt like directly lying by hiding information, so he just took the “lazy” way out and signed less in public.

Sometimes fighting the anxiety was not worth it so he just let it win in that case.

Nino is so nice and energetic and loves people, but he is way more introverted and anxious than his friends think.

But when they start to get closer, Kagami who is ever-observant, notices him signing a little bit, (not ever to her, not ever on purpose, but he’d sometimes sign a word he needed to remember while speaking or sign along to emphasize something)

and she luckily for his anxiety, she doesnt know how to have a normal conversation either.

Her (platonic as well as romantic) love language is studying and research, and Nino seems very cool and she likes him, even if she is awful at holding a conversation with him or doing anything to show it.

She thinks he’s so cool and such an amazing talented kind friend. She has so much love for him that she doesnt know what to do with it. So she channels that energy into learning to sign through the internet and whatever tools she can find

And then after a while of this, she’s like “oh no, he’s gonna think that’s so creepy, I cant tell him I know sign language or he’ll be so uncomfortable”

So, like a whole idiot, she hides that she’s learning sign language from anyone. Because OBVIOUSLY if word got back to Nino, he’d assume it was because of him and that she was a weirdo he shouldn’t be friends with

But also Kagami accidentally falls in love with sign language because she has undiagnosed autism. She always assumed that communicating was just going to be impossible no matter what, but as she gets proficient in sign language she’s like,,, oh,,, OH,, this is very nice

Even just signing while she talks makes it so much easier to keep words and sentances straight, but she only does it when she’s alone with her mother, who is literally blind and would never know.

They become closer friends in late high school, and by that time a lot of Nino’s anxiety has worn off and he’s become completely comfortable letting teachers know when he needs to hear somthing, and middle school feels like a distant dream

At some point, Nino invites Kagami to his house a few times, and he signs with his mom. Nino is like “I can interpret for you,” and Kagami is like “wow thanks, I’m so lucky, because I obviously do not know any sign language, why would I have learned it, and also for the record it is brand new information to me that you can sign,” and Nino is like “cool? Its not a secret but im glad i told you if you somehow didnt already know,” and Kagami is like, “yep :)”

But then eventually as they become really close, they are texting one night, (Kagami can still barely get out of her house, so they need to communicate remotely. And both of then HATE phone calls bc its so hard to understand whats happening, but neither of them have admitted this to anyone)

Nino admits that he likes using sign language better than talking, and he wishes he could use it with his friends, but he’d feel so guilty asking them to learn an entire language just to make him slightly more comfortable. He can talk and hear OKAY so he shouldnt put the pressure on them.

and Kagami is like “you could always ask, worst case scenerio they say no, and i dont think thats an unreasonable demand” and nino is like “it is though,” and kagami’s like “ok so haha funny story, please dont hate me” and nino is like, “…what.” And kagami confesses everything and nino is like “why… why would i hate you for that?” And Kagami is like “oh wait youre right im stupid,”

And then Nino’s also like “hey if YOURE more comfortable signing too, then why dont YOU ask your friends to sign for you. Do you see what i mean? It’s hard to ask-” and kagami is like, “as your friend i will prove it is not.”

So then Kagami ends up confronting Adrien and Marinette the next day and is like “Hi. This is a sign language dictionary. Learn from it.” And they’re both like “what?” And she’s like “oh wait sorry. Backing up. I’m autistic. I decided like three years ago. Forgot to tell you. And I need you to learn to sign a little bit so you can understand if i sign something at you. If you want, of course. Please :D.” And theyre like “ok sure yeah i can do that.”

(Theyve already learned and accepted that shes extremely direct in asking for things)

So then she texts nino and is like “i did it. Youre welcome.”

But anyway both of them are uncomfortable in crowds and parties: Nino cant hear anyone and Kagami tends to get sensory overload, so they start signing mostly in those situations, and then it starts to sink in that they’re allowed to sign whenever and that the other really IS also comfortable with it.

(Both of them are much more willing to make sacrifices for others than to try something new and intimidating for themself, so this is the perfect situation to trick them into getting out of their comfort zone, ironically by trying to be more comfortable in the long run)

so they will just sit together and hang out and have long conversations while just chilling somewhere in a park or at cafes or whatever. Both of them become chattier than they’ve ever been because talking and understanding is so much easier, and its addicting

And their close friends all become proficient enough in sign language to have simple conversations.

But also Nino and Kagami start sitting together automatically even in group hangouts, and they start hanging out more with just the two of them, and soon neither of them feel bad about asking to hang out in quieter places, because they can justify it knowing that it will also help the other one, and together that makes both of them also more comfortable asking for little accomodations from other friends, if only to prove to the other that they can do it too.

And Kagami has the lesser-known autism side effect where she makes WAY TOO MUCH eye contact. She’s aware of it but that doesnt make it go away. Normally she feels so awkward about it, and overthinks her gaze because she doesnt want to scare people away. But when signing, you literally HAVE to be watching the other person constantly, so she has an excuse to just be herself, and its so relieving

(and also its kind of fun to look at Nino anyway because he can get so animated and his smile is really nice and oh no she is in love a little bit)

And Nino always struggles because he emotionally ALWAYS needs to be the nice polite one. His anxiety sometimes gets the better of him and he’s constantly worried about sending the wrong signals to his friends and coming off as rude somehow. But with Kagami, he can literally just ask?? And she will tell him her honest opinion without making it weird. And its so comfy and so good and he really loves hearing her unfiltered opinions on so many things because she sees the world in such a unique way and she gets so passionate about such little things and then oh no, he is fallen for her before he can realize it

And they also learn that they’re both artists, they both love to just observe the world because even if they;re awkward, people are actually pretty great most of the time, and its fun to observe them and try to capture the world, and they just sit together and sketch, or they watch each other sketch, and the thing is, both of them draw ONLY FOR THEMSELVES, its not a ‘skill,’ and they don;t want it to be, its just private art for relaxation. Somehow, though, its okay if they share their art with each other. They can just sit in comfortable silence for hours while one of them sketches something and the other watches patiently

And they start to get more comfortable with one of their heads resting on the other’s shoulder as they watch them doodle, and sitting so close their legs press together, and soon enough their hands start brushing against each other’s as they walk next to each other and then all of a sudden they’re casually holding hands whenever they’re not signing because it’s nice

They try to share headphones so Nino can share some of his favorite songs and his compositions with Kagami. But try as she might, Kagami can not handle the sensory of only having one earbud in. Nino knows her tells by that point, and he’s not about to let her suffer for a stupid reason, but she REALLY does want to hear his music. They somehow end up with Kagami putting a pair of headphones around her neck and turning up the volume a little bit so she can hear, while Nino rests his head on her shoulder so he can hear just enough to know where she is in the song

And then he has to sit up and scootch away just enough to see her hands so they can talk about it, and they both pretend not to notice how nice it was to snuggle as they sign. Its fine, though, because now they get the excuse to just look at each other again and sign overdramatically with exaggerated facial expressions, and no one else around can overhear their conversation, and Nino likes to go a little over the top when signing onomatopoeia and acting out particular parts of the song rhythm that he likes, and Kagami laughs, and they both mentally save the image of each other in this moment the same way that they look at reference images for artwork, memorizing the lines of each movement and the things that make each smile unique,

and Nino also shows up at every single one of her fencing tournaments, and he sits as close as he can and signs encouraging messages to her from the crowd whenever she’s not actively competing, (that her blind mom can never catch, which is somewhat of a bonus to Kagami, because every element of their friendship that her mother cant interact with makes this more personal and special and HERS). Every little sign she sends back at him, even a simple thank you, always feels so good and rebellious and free because shes supposed to be focusing on fencing but shes deciding to care more about friendship. And even if she’s expected to leave immediately afterword, she’ll find every excuse possible to find him and give him a hug, which he’ll always accept even though she jokingly warns him shes sweaty and gross

And eventually they are special best friends and it brings them instant joy to see each other and theyre able to interact for no reason other than that they want to and like each other

(And then they kiss)

#ninogami #ninami #nino lahiffe #kagami tsurugi #miraculous ladybug #ml #fic tag #dont want to tag this with the other ship because the tumblr algorithm is weird #and i dont want it going in the tag because theres no content for that ship and this directly opposes it #but i respect nino and alyas relationship so much they are so good and perfect #but im also terminally a multishipper #and ninogami is so darn precious too i love them #i just try not think about the circumstances with alya in this shup #ship #just imagine she and nino are still close bros and alya is dating marinette or adrien or whoever else you want

[infectedpaul]

You Matter To Me (Squip/Reader)

You've had your Squip for a bit now and it's been fine for the most part, until he brings up the idea of looking into romantic relationships with others which opens up a lot of wounds you wanted to just bury deep and forget about. But you can't begin the road to recovery without asking why you got there, right?

SO IVE NEVER....WRITTEN AN X READER B4 UGH HJKSAJDASKDJSA esp not for a near dead fandom OH WELL oh well oh well h ignore this my normal followers please please

(warning 4 talks of depression/self degrading talk, its hurt comfort yada yada i need 2 touch grass ik)

ao3 link if u prefer that!!

You weren't made for love, at least, you didn't think so.

For as long as you'd been looking for it, it was always so out of reach. Easily visible, sure. Walking past groups of friends laughing it up on the sidewalks, partners entangled in each other's arms, seemingly trying to make their love known for all. But for you to have any of that for yourself? The heat death of the universe would sooner come, surely.

You'd sort of given up on it. It would be nice, you'd think. To be held, wrapped up in someone's arms, and just to stay there for as long as either of you could want. That cozy, warm feeling of being with someone that you only saw in movies or read about in books. But you had just accepted it wasn't in the cards, so to speak. And you were fine with that.

Well, you told yourself anyway. You knew it was for a deeper reason, though, but that wasn't something you liked to think about too heavily.

It was easier to do that when you didn't have a roommate that could dig into your brain and pry every little detail about them out of you.

When you got your Squip, you didn't know it'd be so adamant about perfecting every little last thing you were. How long or short your hair was styled, if your shoes matched your eyes, how fast or slow you were walking and how too brisk would make you seem like you were constipated but too slow and your likelihood of getting run over by a horse-drawn carriage gone would go up much higher, nevermind that you've never even seen a horse in real life.

What you did know, by now at least was that the Squip was persistent, seeing himself as your guardian angel, a guiding light in your desolate dark world of humanity, ickiness and week old pizza boxes you were too unmotivated to at least move off the bed.

So when his ideal response wasn't given when he proposed seeking out a lovelife, he was...well,

"I'm not sure I understand." His head crooked to the side, puzzled by your surface level indifference, "You're of consenting age, marginally attractive and only slightly under average at socializing. Finding a mate can't be too hard."

His holographic form hummed a soft, near silent buzz, a small imperfection to his otherwise flawless binary makeup. Other than that, and the soft, tinted blue glow around his form, he looked completely human. A little too human, really. Something so real, realer than any CG or video game, but something was just...off, something from the uncanny valley. You hadn't kept him in this form long, you liked to change it up from time to time, maybe to trick yourself into thinking he was someone new, making your brain think you had more friends besides the computer you bought behind a Rack Room.

You didn't look at him though when you responded, too preoccupied with the paper in front of you, decorated with a few characters concocted from your imagination. "I dunno," you shrug, brushing off eraser marks, "Just not my thing, I guess." You could feel his confusion, a bit of gut feeling as his thoughts jumbled in with your own. He was really only in your brain, afterall; the figure behind you sitting on your bed was just something he made up to ease your brain into trusting a new, larger source of perpetually growing information. "But, the purpose of this time in your life is to mate and birth young, is it not?"

You really wished he'd learn to stop talking about you and 'the homo sapien species' like you were a mindless ape made to breed and nothing else.

"Uh, I mean not really. I know that's what everyone around me is doing," Your mind thought back to all the cringey baby announcement videos from kids you knew in high school, "But it's...I guess I'm just not up for it. It's not really for people like me."

He was quiet. Only for a second, before he asked,

"People like you?" Another silence hung in the air. It was a truth you knew he could easily just reach into your brain and find for himself so you kept quiet for a bit longer, waiting for him to start digging. But you didn't feel it, that very familiar sudden ache in the back of your head you got when he went poking around for more things to nag at you about. Just quiet in your room, only the soft buzz and birds tweeting outside your window any solace from the uncomfortable silence you felt.

You shrugged again, and turned to face him, seeing now the muddled and a little concerned look on his face. "You know? The quiet ones, the losers. People like me don't get to be loved. I've just accepted that." You could have said a lot worse, and it seemed like he knew that. You didn't really understand, either. You didn't like yourself, plain and simple.

His concern only seemed to grow, eyebrows furrowing and staring intently at you. You thought for a second, maybe it was anger. It wouldn't be the first time. You were mostly compliant to his (mandatory) suggestions for life improvement, but every once in a while he would propose an idea that you would fight about, like clothes you weren't comfortable wearing for one reason or another. He said he was a learning computer, so he would need your help on things like emotions and comfiness, physical or mental, ruling out whatever the newest trends were. He would be fine afterwards but, he could get pretty huffy about you trying on too skinny-skinny jeans.

But that didn't happen, there wasn't a small but fierce jolt of electricity in your back to stop you from going against 'social programming', as he called it. He just looked at you a bit longer, seemingly turning gears in his head as he tried to process what you're saying.

You gave him a sober smile, trying to still seem indifferent, though for a second you wondered maybe if he was still prying at you, in a different way at least, because if he was, it seemed to be working.

"What? I'm just not that special. You of all people know that, right?" It was almost like you weren't hearing what was coming out of your mouth, that casual self-degradation that almost frightened him. You heard stories from message boards about that, older models of the Squip forcing reprogramming onto the host by breaking down their emotional state with verbal or physical punishment for...just existing, really.

He wasn't really like that though. Yes he could be annoyed when you didn't comply, but you were both good at compromise and treated situations like adults, even if at first you weren't much motivated to treat any situation at all. He informed you while you were looking through those boards that his creators had taken in accounts of previous incidents and built more of a guide to self-improvement than a ball and chain with a backhand. Humans were fragile, he knew that, and it wasn't okay to hurt them just to get a little closer to their goal.

But maybe, did he not think that humans were more than capable of hurting themselves? Their own words used against them, their internal voices bashing against their brains, turning them to mush and making them too scared or unmotivated to build it back up again.

"I just know no one would love some useless, pitiful person...I just kinda got over that a while ago." You almost frightened him with how nonchalant you were about the whole thing. It wasn't intentional, you weren't trying to seek attention or be funny. You just knew there was plenty of other people out there worthy of all that lovey-dovey stuff you thought would be nice but...it's just not meant for you.

There was a knot in his voice as he finally spoke up,

"That's why I'm here, isn't it?" The last piece of the puzzle had finally clicked into place, but he didn't look satisfied, not that cheeky, self-centered chagrin when things went his way or when he was proven right yet again.

You thought he knew that. You thought from day one he just figured that out and that's why he's been trying so hard to make you into a model citizen or something. "Did you just think you were here to help me pick out clothes in the morning?" You laughed, he seemed to know it was forced.

"Well...y-yes, maybe. I just...I never looked into that possibility of…" He was regaining his composure; this was a side you've never seen of him before. He's always been so astute, robotic and to the point. He's never fumbled over his words or had to give himself a second to figure out what to say next.

"How long has it been like this, Y/N?" His hands were folded neatly on his lap, still looking you dead-on, waiting for you to answer his distressed queuerie with worried patience.

You got up out of your chair, pushing it back and behind you to step away from the table and your drawings. "I dunno," you said, taking a few steps towards the long mirror hung on your wall, "for as long as I can remember, I guess." You looked at your reflection, only tired, dark eyes looking back at you. Even though the edge of the bed was visible in the mirror, your Squip didn't show up in it, another reminder of just how alone you were outside of your head.

"I just started to feel like I didn't belong more and more and...that ate me up so much I just started believing in it. I-I didn't wanna go to school or talk to people or even get up 'cause...well," You turned away from the mirror before you could see the tears you'd been holding back, looking at the more distressed figure in view of you again, "what would anyone be missing, really?" You still smiled, that big smile you both worked so meticulously on making seem not too forced when you had to act excited or just blend into normal social gatherings, but it wavered so easily, like a thin strip of paper about to tear off the nail that barely held it up on the wall.

His eyes widened at the sight of your tears, immediately getting up and briskly walking to stand in front of you, not knowing how to proceed in the moment. He hadn't had to deal with something like this yet and he was troubleshooting to see what was the correct response to a human breakdown.

You looked down, covering your eyes with one hand and clenching the other into a fist, big, strained smile still plastered on your face and trying so hard not to seem more weak than you knew you were. You were nothing. You knew that, you thought he did too. You thought you could just fix things, but how could you do that without getting to the source? You knew you couldn't just sidestep around why you wanted things to get better with humans, but with a computer who could read your brain like the newspaper, you thought maybe you could get around that.

You heard him sigh before a feeling of arms wrapping around you caught you off guard, the Squip entangling you in his grasp and his head resting on yours. It was all simulated, you knew. He had done things such as lightly punch your arm as if to say 'Good job, Sport!' or tap your shoulder to grab your attention without startling you, but this was different. He held onto you for a good couple of seconds, a wave of warmth spreading through your body in an instant. He pet back your hair with one hand, rubbing your back with the other and finally broke the silence in the room.

"Y/N, it- ...it pains me, hearing you speak that way about yourself. You're…" He looked down at you, holding you a bit closer and tightening his grip just a tad. "You're an incredible, talented, wonderful person. You've come so far and you've taught me so much about humans and myself and I just couldn't ask for a better-" He stopped. You knew what he was going to say, a better host, a better human, a better assignment to help and guide and-

"A better friend."

A friend?

He never referred to you or anyone with such a personal or affectionate term. It almost didn't seem real, like you maybe misheard him. Your smile had shattered into a small frown and, with teary-eyes and your voice already cracking, you looked up at him, meeting his almost-heartbroken eyes in an expression that looked so foreign on his normally composed face.

"What?"

He gave a weak smile, trying to be comforting but his fear showing plain as day. You could feel it within you too, a pit in your stomach forming as your chest tightened. You knew it wasn't your anxiety, but his.

"Do I need to repeat myself, Y/N? I think of you as a friend and..." His hand moved off of your back and ran itself up to rest on your shoulder, the other holding your cheek and wiping away your tears with his thumb. "I want to do all I can to show you that from here on."

You almost couldn't breathe as you looked at him, feeling for the first time that unconditional love you yearned for. You could feel your heart race in your chest, something you knew he could feel too but you were too crushed to say anything. You simply slammed yourself into his chest, grabbing fistfulls of his shirt that made your hands tingle like they fell asleep. His arms enveloped you yet again, the both of you holding onto each other so tight like either of you would fall through the floor if you let go.

You sobbed and sobbed and sobbed for what felt like hours, and, just maybe, you thought you could hear him crying too, but that'd be silly...right?

When you were finally out of tears to cry, you stood there still, simply bathing in each other's presence, the feeling you only saw in others finally yours. And you knew it was only a matter of time before this too was stolen from you, the universe would take back anything from people unworthy but...for right now, you wanted to be a little selfish.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, face still buried in his shirt.

"For?" His head was rested on yours again, holding up your weak and tired form with no effort, just trying to keep you propped up until you were ready to let go.

"I got you to help me but...I can't even let you in like I'm supposed to. But...I want to. I just want help." You pushed yourself off of him, one thought between you and him and his hands meeting yours, the simulated tingle in there again as you held each other's palms in yours and looked at each other with such exhausted eyes and worn-out but so genuine smiles.

He leaned down and planted a kiss on your forehead, a soft hue of pink blush spreading on your drained and exhausted face.

"I'd love to help, friend."

#dex says things #THE FUCK AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE FLDSJFKLDSFDS #THE WORST PART IS IM PROUD OF THIS UGH #be more chill #the squip #squip x reader #my writing #ITS 530 AM UGH

[some-dr-writings]

Nagito, Rantaro, and Gundham comfort their S/O through their migraine

Nagito Komaeda:

·       It was a day like any other. Nagito was running late to class, his bad luck deciding to show up and leave him completely covered in scratches and bruises in the process. He dashed down hall after hall, running up the stairs not wanting to be any later, but of course when he reached the top of the case his shoelaces had somehow become untied, and he stepped on one, sending him tumbling back down the stairs, rolling and crashing into a wall. Strangely as he shakily got up, he heard… whimpering? And it wasn’t from himself despite how his whole body hurt.

·       “Y/N?” You sat against a wall next to the stairs, face tucked into your knees, covering your ears with your hands. “Hey, what’s wrong?” “Oh… hey Nagito.” Sitting beside you he could hear how unsteady your breathing was. You quietly, pitifully laughed before speaking. “M-migraine… been a while since I had one this bad though…” “Uh…” “Basically a real bad headache… one so bad it made sound louder, lights brighter an… shapes? I can’t see right now.” He draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling himself close, and when he spoke next he made sure keep his voice quiet. “Okay, just lean on me, alright?” He led the way to the nurse’s office, letting you burrow your face into his shoulder, shielding you from the light. Nagito decided that falling down the stairs was actually be good luck so he could be here for you.

·       You were placed in a dimly lit room after being given some pain medicine. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something better than making the trek all the way back to your dorm room to lock yourself away there for a time. “You can go… if you want to. I’ll just be laying here for a while.” “I want to be here. Want anything, just tell me and I get it for you.” You were quite for a moment, simply taking deep breaths, hoping that could ease the pain that seemed to throb behind your eyes and in your head. “… could you lay with me then?” After a moment you felt the bed lightly shift and heard the rustling of fabric. Hugging him, you burrowed your face into his chest. He held you close, hoping he could help you at all. He wasn’t entirely sure as to what he could do to help you, but he was going to do anything within his power to lessen your pain.

    Rantaro Amami:

·       “Babe! I’m back!” Silence was all he had gotten in response before shutting the door behind himself. “Y/N?” Were you out? Unlikely as it was, it was still possible. The thought of you going out for a walk or the like was a rather kind one for him. If you had gone out, you’d have left a sticky note explaining yourself somewhere he’d most certainly see but having not spotted anything of the sort he trotted through the apartment, straight for your temporary office.

·       Your door was left open. Taking a peek inside he found you sitting before that little table, the laptop illuminating your silhouette in that otherwise small, dark room.

·       “Babe…” You were snapped from your trace feeling how he had enveloped you in a hug from behind, planting a kiss on the side of your head. “I know stocks don’t wait, but you’re only human.” “I’ll take a break later.” He sighed, still hugging you he rested his chin on your head, his gaze scanning over the screen, how your mouse zipped about, flipping from page to page in the blink of the eye. “It’s been a few days now, what’s gotten you so worked up?” “A depression’s coming. I need to make the right moves so we can out last it, and still have enough to keep searching for your sisters. On top of that I also need to keep an eye out for my clients, I know for a fact some of them are going to panic and make rash decisions, I need to stop them.” You groaned, rubbing your stiff neck before yawning. Rantaro held on for an extra few moments before letting go. “I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” “Thanks.” When he got to the door he stopped, chuckling to himself. “You haven’t changed a bit since High School.” Oh, that clicking of the mouse pad actually stopped. “… You mean that in a good or bad way?” “Both. You still are so kind, to the point of sacrificing your own health. You can’t help others if you’re bedridden.” “Just a bit longer, I can keep going. I know my limitations… and I have you to babysit me.” “Har, har, very funny.”

·       He was not surprised going to bed alone that night. It did put a smile on his face though when not long after he got under the covers you moved yourself and your laptop to the bedroom, continuing your work atop the bed.

·       Rantaro awoke with a hum, the sun’s rays shining through the blinds landing on his face. He slowly flipped over and hugged your waist. “Morning Babe.” “… oh… m-morning…” Sitting up, he rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, seeing the bags under yours. You took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose before getting back to work. Giving you a peck on the cheek he slid out of bed, going straight to the restroom.

·       Still in his pajamas he set about making a light breakfast, promptly returning to you. Upon return to the bedroom, he found you burying your face into your hands. “huh?” You only seemed to notice he was there when he placed a water bottle in your lap. “o-oh, thanks.” After passing you your meal, he looked over what you had up, making sure he wouldn’t be messing up anything, as he exited out of your programs, shutting off the laptop, closing the lid before sliding it to the end of the bed. “You were right.” Rantaro didn’t say a thing in response, simply hugging you as he gave you some pain medicine, tucking you in right after.

·       A day of lazing around, at least he could make sure you were taken care of now. He also got all the cuddles he had missed out the night prior so he didn’t mind. He was rather used to this by now, though he didn’t care for how you so often pushed yourself, at least he could still help you. recalling the many times he had to play nurse for you in high school, it seemed he hadn’t change much either.

    Gundham Tanaka:

·       Even as thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, he didn’t stop for a moment. Such things could not startle the Overlord of Ice. He dashed through the pouring rain, even as it pounded down, soaking through his clothes. There were several occasions where he had almost slipped on the slick puddles that covered the ground. The droplets that came cascading down blurred his vision, the torrent wind thrashed about knocking him over. He held tight to his coat, racing back to the apartment complex.

·       Upon reaching the room, he immediately shut the door before sifting through his inner coat pocket, taking out a wet paper bag. He ripped apart the soggy mass, getting to the pill bottle. Though sure he was right, still paranoid he compared it to the empty bottle he had in his pocket, finding the prescription was still exactly the same. Though ridiculous he worried somehow only once he got back to your place would he find he got the wrong one from the pharmacy.

·       With a heavy sigh he quickly dried himself off and placed on some clothing he kept at your place. Walking into the bedroom he found the blanket fort he had built around your bed was still standing. With a prideful smirk he crawled inside, you still cuddling the Devas, several pillows covering your head. When you felt the bed shift, you slowly knocked the pillows off, turning to face him, looking dreadfully exhausted. “My Emperor, I’ve received your healing salves.” You gave him a strained smile. It was strange to hear you Ice Lord use such a soft tone. He had spoken so quietly if it wasn’t for the fort dampening the thunderous noise, you likely wouldn’t have heard him. “Gundham… y-you didn’t have to get this the moment the pharmacy opened… it’s storming out, and it’s my fault for forgetting to get it last week. You didn’t even give me a chance to stop you.” He simply shook his head, passing you the bottle. “Nonsense. In your state you could not possibly make the journey unscathed, let alone in such a sleep deprived state having gotten no rest for eons now. I am at fault too. I had should have had the forethought to bring my own supplies of your care before arriving. But now that the world has flooded even I, could not fare the journey to my own domain long ago when your curse first showed signs of surfacing once more.”

·       As he had spoken you took your pills as well as water, hoping it’d at least dull the throbbing, pulsing pain that had pounded through your head, only having compounded as the world around you seemed to grow louder and louder as the storm continued to rage on. “Seems things would be easier if we just lived together.” You placed a pillow back over your head, not noticing how Gundham had frozen in place, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “… I suppose…” “Gundham, did you say something?” You were confused seeing how he stiffly laid beside you. “… Sharing a domain with one another… We already have given one another all other things, even access to obtain one another’s delicate items such as your medicine… Sharing that as well, is a thought I’m… most fond of.” You simply stared for a moment the pain making holding onto a single coherent thought for long difficult, but quickly it clicked. “Ah! Ow-” “My Emperor?” “I-I… hey, let’s talk about this when my medicine kicks in, okay. But… well… I didn’t really think about what I said but… always having you around, living together sounds nice.” With a growing wobbly smile his blush darkened. “Yes, I wish you to be of clear mind when we even consider this endeavor.”

·       As much as you hated the pain, perhaps for once some good came from it, keeping you from thinking before you speak.

#nagito komaeda #rantaro amami #gundham tanaka #nagito x reader #rantaro x reader #gundham x reader #Mod Gundham #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa2 #Super Danganronpa 2 #danganronpa v3 #danganronpav3 #New Danganronpa V3 #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa 2 imagine #danganronpa 2 imagines #danganronpa v3 imagines #danganronpa v3 imagine #dr imagine #dr imagines #dr 2 imagine #dr 2 imagines #dr v3 imagine #dr v3 imagines #danganronpa x reader

[justawritingblob]

The fact that I'm in all of those fandoms you're writing 😃

Hello! I'll be known as the Sero Anon!

My yandere request for you is;

{Choose character} Sabo/Luffy/Sanji, or Hawks/Kirishima/Denki

[Plot]Reader is aware of their yandere tendecies and takes advantage of how much the yandere is in love until the yandere snaps

Luffy is an easy yandere to fall in line with.

it becomes really convenient really quick. He's not a very romantic person most of the time, so really it's just being the favorite crew mate at first. You don't have to help around the ship as much. You can sleep in later. You have final say on when your turn to keep watch is. A lot of the time you even end up sleeping in his captains' quarters with him, which is significantly more comfortable then the hammock you're used too.

Not to mention the extra food. You get all this, and all he wants is for you to sit on his lap sometimes and let him wrap his arms around you several time, or he'll wake you up at odd hours of the night just so he can talk to you when nobody else is around. Those can be kind of frustrating, but other times he just wants you to sit at his special spot with him. He has a need for you to be with him during his quiet moments, the rare ones that everyone is always fixated on.

The rest of the crew didn't really mind, they thought it was kind of funny for the most part. Robin would always give a knowing look, Zoro was definitely the most frustrated by it, but even he thought the captains blatant infactuation was fun. It wasn't like you weren't helpful, you just enjoyed the privileges you got. You were a pirate too after all, none of them were gonna blame you for acting like one.

So you couldn't help but be a bit surprised when Luffy decided for you that you were sharing a room now. It didn't change much, but him moving your stuff for you was unsettling. From there, you never really had any time away from your captain. And even when you were around other people, he didn't like when you payed attention to them. He wasn't violent to the crew, he'd just be louder, overwhelm you with him until the other person left, or until you gave in and gave him the attention he wanted.

Then he started waking you up more. Everytime he woke up, he'd wake you too. He couldn't stand being away from you for too long. You weren't really yourself, but the crew just worked around it. Sanji would give you an extra coffee, an extra strong coffee. They stop making as many jokes about being the captains favorite.

It was a rare occasion for you to wake up while Luffy was still asleep. You found yourself staring at his sleeping form. He was quiet. You were overwhelmed. You were tired. You realized you desperately wanted to leave, and to escape anywhere else but here. It wasn't worth it anymore, living like this wasn't worth how tired you were. How uncomfortable you were. How you felt more like a pet at this point then a favorite person.

But you couldn't leave. The Thousand Sunny was god only knows where. Surrounded by water. You were isolated with this man. Your captain. And the crew who loved each other, but him specifically more then anything. This was your life now.

Luffy stirred, and your stomach dropped.

But then he just turned away from you. You couldn't see his face or the rise and fall of his chest. It was the first time you could remember being awake and looking at anything else. The moment got to you. You slipped out of the bed, out of the room, and left.

You really didn't know where you were going as you wondered the dark and quiet halls. It was nice being alone. It was so much more tolerable being alone. You knew to avoid the crows nest, the deck really in general was to be avoided. You didn't know who was standing watch tonight, and unless it was Robin they'd probably try and chat.

You realized you were still tired, while you walked around the empty ship. The quiet made it easy.

You hadn't even realized how much you had really missed the quiet.

But good things don't last long for you, and much too soon for your liking, you heard a panicked yell.

Luffy was awake.

You didn't want to give up your isolation yet, you couldn't bear the thought of it. So thinking quickly, before everyone was up and looking, you ducked into a storage room and cuddled into a ball under some shelves. You pulled a crate in front of it to hide you for good measure.

You're so tired.

As you drift off to sleep you fantasize about the shelves crushing you, and it brings you more hope then any thought you'd had in a long time.

When you wake up the noise is louder. It's down the hall. Luffy's right outside, and you can feel the worry and anger and fear radiating off of him from where you were hidden.

"We'll find them. Nobody new has come on the ship, and for sure nobodies left. They probably just woke up and wanted a snack or something, then they fell asleep."

It was Robin. She was talking slow and soothing, probably trying to calm the worried teenager down.

"Yeah? Well they should've woken me up." He says it with a tone that makes you wish you'd stayed in bed with him.

You felt like it'd be better for everyone involved if you had been kidnapped or were being held hostage. Then this wouldn't be your fault. Then someone else would have to take the worst of his anger.

But there was nobody else. Just you.

The doors kicked open.

You feel like the panics gonna make you throw up.

"There's too many places to hide in here."

Usually it'd sound whiny, but it doesn't right now.

"Do you think they're hiding?"

"I think they need to be found."

You're sure this is it. You're so sure that you're about to be found. The confrontation is moments away, and you are in now way prepared for it. You don't have a good excuse. You don't know what else to do, so you go limp and pretend you're asleep.

"There's only a few places really for someone their size to fit comfortably in here. Shelves or the closet."

"Alright, well then go look under the shelves."

He's much more demanding then you ever realized.

You keep pretending you're asleep, so you're not sure when Robin's eyes find you. But they do. Then, the crate is being moved. You expect to be ripped out, to be shaken awake, for more yelling. You them to immediately try and "wake" you.

But they don't. Instead a wave of hands gently moves you out from where you were, into the light. You cant help but move to cover your face slightly. It's so bright, and it's what you'd do if you were actually sleeping too, right?

They still don't move to wake you, so you suppose it's gotta be working somewhat.

Then Luffy picks you up, and you know that you should say goodbye to any independence you'd had for a long time.

He's more careful then you'd expect though. He seems like he's really trying not to wake you. He carries you for such a long time. Then he drops you on the bed. Cruelly, suddenly. If you'd actually been asleep he would've absolutely woken you now.

"I know you're awake (y/n). I know what you look like when you're sleeping." He's always blunt, you have to remind yourself. But not like this, and you know that.

You should cut your losses. You know you should. So you make a move to sit up, but you're shoved back down.

"If you're tired then sleep."

You are tired. You're so tired. Why shouldn't you? it's not like staying awake will somehow make this all better. You're the closest to alone you can possibly be in your sleep. If he wants to tempt you, then you'll take him up on it.

When you wake up you're uncomfortable. That's not new. You usually wake up suffocating. Luffy's usually got his arms wrapped tightly around you when you wake up.

But not today. Right now your alone in the bed, with an uncomfortabley tight collar around your neck. It's connected to a chain leash, that's currently keeping you tethered to the bed. You only have enough room to take a few steps away from either side of the bed, and could only really stand at the edge.

You slowly brought your hands to your neck, and were uncomfortable when you couldn't find any sort of clasp, other then where the leash was attatched.

The humiliating realization that Franky probably made this while you were sleeping dawns on you, and you have to choke back a sob. You can't even join the rest of the crew for your own emotional support. You just get to sit on the bed, waiting for Luffy to get back.

Which he does. He seems happy when he gets back, like nothing's happened. He smiles at you even.

"Hi (y/n)! I missed you. But everyone else said I should let you sleep a little longer- said it'd make things easier.",

Of course they did. You appreciated the little of the gesture you could, but still couldn't bring yourself to respond. Luffy didn't really seem to mind, he just kept talking.

"Don't really know what happened this morning, you can explain later after you've eaten. Don't worry about it though!" he leaned forward and yanked the leash.

"We've got a bunch of these all over the ship now! so if I don't have you, I'll know for exactly where you are! So if it's not gonna happen again, no reason to still be upset about it, right?"

he's smiling again, like what he's said makes any sense at all.

You should probably nod along. You can force your head up and down once, but all of your energy is gone. You might as well make peace with your new life, you realize. You're never gonna be able to get out of this.

#yandere luffy x reader #sero anon #a lot longer then I meant #might come back and do Sabo for this too #tbh

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 6]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“I don’t wanna look like this, fuck”

Previously on Never Satisfied:

Digital Checkpoint activated. Reply to save progress. 💜 — Cora

With minimal contemplation he replies seconds later.

Corpse: save

Cora: your progress has been saved. Thank you for choosing A.S.S. - the Automated Save System. You are now free to activate the digital checkpoint at any time. 

Cora: I had a nice time. Text me whenever you need to. We’ll hang out again soon, deal?

Corpse: thank you

Cora: anytime sugar ;)

Funny how a text exchange so simple and short can turn so much around for a person. Funny how a huge weight lifts off him the second he locks his phone, suddenly finding it easier to breathe, to move, to blink, to function - to live. She gives him that kick he needs to be reminded to live and not just be alive. He’s still not comfortable with how much he’s relying on her but seeing her effect on him is nothing but positive, the most and best thing he can do for himself is go with the flow and let things happen. No overthinking, no planning, no shooting guesses, just facing things as they come face-to-face with him. He may never get used to it, but he won’t know that until he tries, will he?

                                                            *  *  *

Corpse sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror. He’s been trying to step up a little with the dressing game since he’ll be having a special guest over - ok, truth be told, he didn’t invite her, she invited herself but he’s glad she did. Lord knows he wants her company and wants her around but he could never bring himself to invite her over or initiate a hangout. Good thing Cora doesn’t expect anything from him, not of that nature at least. It’s oddly amazing having a person like her - someone who basically reads his mind like an open book and then takes action according to what she’s read. It’s not only the fact that she accurately gauges all his wants and needs, but also how she knows exactly what to do to satisfy them. To calm him down, to relieve his anxiety, to make him feel comfortable. He feels strangely selfish for always being on the receiving end of this friendship, although he doesn’t see much he could do for her. He’s decided to let time have full control of the course of their relationship, hoping his giver time would come soon.

As of now, however, it still hasn’t and he can stomach that.

It’s been about a week and a half since their first hangout but he hasn’t missed her once. That may be due to how much they’ve been texting ever since he unlocked that checkpoint she offered him. To be more specific, it probably has something to do with the fact that her texts are always so full of life and light, sounding almost like she’s there with him, talking in her signature upbeat and bubbly way which is such a contrast to his own melancholic approach to any conversation ever. 

She’s also sent him a ton of memes and selfies, plus pictures she took of clients’ pets. In return for her kindness, he’s sent her bad jokes, weird internet articles about ghosts and pictures of the current game he was playing. Needless to say, their chats have been very colorful.

Now that the scene has been set up a little better, a direct timeline of events lading up to this one would be appreciated, wouldn’t it? Ok so, it all started with an “I’m bored” text Corpse received from Cora about two hours ago. Instinctively, and partially because he didn’t have any idea what else he could possibly say in response to that he sent back an apology. An apology Cora apparently deemed a loophole she could use to invite herself over cause that’s exactly what she did, not that Corpse minds it much. In fact, he felt his heartbeat quicken with excitement when her “K then, I’ll be there in a bit :)” text came in. At first he thought it was his anxiety kicking in but when he realized the rest of his typical symptoms remained absent it took him a little while to pinpoint what that emotion could be.

The epiphany came in the form of the word ‘excitement’.

Regardless of the newfound feeling, or maybe exactly because of it, he attempted to protest. A protest she killed easily with a threatening “I know where you live” text which sent Corpse scrambling to get the apartment in some kind of order. Himself too, it’s safe to say he wasn’t looking the most presentable when he received that message. 

His cleaning session consisted mostly of him shoving the strewn about items in his closet and closing it shut like a wild beast dwelled inside, placing a chair in front of the door as a sign for her not to open it and also as a way of preventing the thing from opening on its own because of how overflowing it was. 

Afterwards he scrambled into the shower to scrub himself down. It’d been too much for him to tackle given he wasn’t doing too well mentally, but considering he was now suddenly expecting company he thought it’d be for the best not to subject his new friend to the three-day-unshowered Corpse stank. 

Right now, his main focus is his face, his stomach sinking at the sight of himself in the mirror’s reflection. 

How does she even want to see me? 

His mirror is cracked along the right side, spider web-like cracks reaching towards the center of it from the impact point serving as a reminder of a particularly bad night he’d rather forget.

He sighs as he combs his hair, knowing the dark curls won’t oblige and behave no matter how much he tries. He touches his jaw, deciding to let himself off the hook by deeming that a shave wouldn’t be necessary for at least another day. And then his eyes land on his clothes - an outfit it didn’t take him long to put together since those are the only articles of clothing in his closet he’d consider presentable enough to be shown off in front of a new friend who is yet to find out how much of a slob he really is. That clothing choice consists of a black button-up shirt and jeans. 

This is nice, right? It’s fine. It’s business casual but definitely leaning more towards casual, as some would say. I look...nice, decent. I’ll take it - it’s enough. Far better than my ‘usual’.

A knock at the door startles him, though it’s quickly followed by a voice he’s grown to find very endearing: 

“THIS IS THE COPPAS! OPEN UP YA’ DOOR!” The voice yells out, probably loud enough for the whole complex to hear but it’s not like he gives a shit. And, as context clues show, neither does she.

Corpse exits his bathroom, heading for the front door, pulling the chain off and unlocking the deadbolt before opening it. The object of his newfound affection stands on the other side, grinning and beaming with that usual light she has surrounding her. Her hair is thrown up into a messy bun - a hairstyle she seems to love - and she’s wearing a simple red t-shirt covered in little chubby, cartoonish black cats that seem to be struggling to exist. 

He smiles a little, finding it in himself to speak up but when he opens his mouth to do so, she cuts him off.

“Jesus, did you just come back from a funeral?” She asks, pulling at one of the buttons on his chest as she walks past him, letting herself in. 

His eyes, completely on their own accord, wander down as she walks on by, causing him to swallow hard as he finds himself staring at a pair of tanned legs, patterned by the fishnets she’s wearing, leading up to a pair of short black shorts. 

She turns on her heel about halfway down the hall, leading him to take an inevitable notice of how her well-loved boots could use a polish. Anyhow, he snaps his gaze away to hide the fact he’s been gawking, despite not really meaning to.

“No, but for real, why are you wearing that? You seem super confined and uncomfy, bud.”

Corpse blinks before swallowing and glancing down at himself, pulling at the button she touched before looking back up, his gaze traveling up the length of her legs. She has suspenders hanging over her thighs, more of an accessory than a necessary addition to her outfit. “I just...I dunno, I thought it looked nice. Does it not? I mean, I wouldn’t know, really. I don’t usually dress like this.”

“I mean, you look dapper as fuck but if you’re not comfortable then change, get your comfy game on. I’m the last person you need to impress in this world.”

God, she sees right through him. Even so, he considers protesting, trying to convince it’s all fine, that he likes this shirt and the outfit in its entirety. But her stare sets the record straight for him - she’ll know it’s all lies. And with that in mind, he lets his shoulders fall. Not a full second passes before he promptly starts undoing his buttons. 

“Oh, thank fuck.”  She comments as he  goes to retreat into his room, stripping the shirt off as he walks, unaware of her lingering eyes on his back, unaware of her lower lip bitten between her pearly teeth. Unaware of the subtle shift in her stance as she looks him over much like he did her moments earlier.

When he returns a moment later in a simple dark grey t-shirt, she greets him with a grin and pats his chest. “Much better.”

It doesn’t take long for them to decide to crash on his couch, throw on a bad movie and just sit in comfortable silence. Comfortable silence - something that usually eats away at him and is anything but comfortable he now sees as calming, a soothe to his ever-racing mind. 

Disrespecting the movie, Corpse takes to analyzing his guest instead. She has so much confidence, he can’t help but notice, like she’s been here hundreds of times, known him for so long. He hates her a little for it. Well, it’s not quite hate, it leans more toward envy. Jealousy. That human-nature characteristic of wanting what someone else has but you desperately need/wish you had. In his mind, she’s almost selfish: Why couldn’t she share some of that confidence and carefree manner with the rest of the world? It oozes out of her like a drip of honey from a beehive, sweet and warm. And all he wants yet has none of.

He instinctively tenses up as he feels her move closer before, suddenly, her head drops into his lap, legs kicked over the armrest of the couch. He holds his breath almost subconsciously, staring at her as she remains focused on the television. Unsure of what to do with his hands, he puts one across the back of the couch and the other awkwardly bent above his head. He doesn’t want her to get the wrong idea if he touches her. He doesn’t want to come off as a creep nor does he want to overstep any of her boundaries, despite the fact she’s walking a dangerous line of overstepping his. Well, that would’ve been the case if this was done by anyone but her. The way Corpse comes to this realization is when he figures out that he really doesn’t mind this proximity, as long as he doesn’t embarrass himself or creep her out in any way.

What felt like an eternity passes before she finally speaks up, still without looking away from the movie playing on the screen opposite the couch, “You know, I can feel how tense you are.” 

His face flushes with embarrassment, heating up as his mind immediately goes to the worst possible outcome of this situation.

She’ll probably sit up, or leave, he thinks to himself, heart thumping in his ears as he tries to observe her face the best he can from this angle. Nevertheless, he swallows that fear as she rolls her head to look up at him with those large glittering doe eyes, grinning a bit as she seems to always do, “You can just put your hands wherever it’s comfortable for you. I don’t mind.”

He hesitates for a moment but, as always, he doesn’t get much say cause she makes the choice for him, knowing that pesky fear is keeping him immobile. She takes the hand from over his head and pulls it down to rest just next to her skull. She then drags the one resting at the back of the couch, placing it so his hand is resting dead-center on her stomach. Satisfied with how she’s rearranged his posture, she goes back to watching the movie but not before asking: “This okay?” while looking at him through her peripheral vision. 

He’d have to admit it’s far more comfortable like this.

“Yeah, it’s fine. You’re okay?” He asks, feeling relieved when he feels her nod against his leg. 

He moves his hand a little and swallows hard as he contemplates if he really should make the move he’s thinking of at the moment. And then he abruptly decides not to think. So, instead, he acts on it. 

Without thinking of any potential negative consequences, Corpse slides his fingers to lace with hers, resting their conjoined hands on her stomach in the same spot where she left his hand a bit ago. She curls her digits around his tighter as reassurance that it’s ok. Her palm feels warm in his hand, her thumb tracing his cold metal rings. 

Checkpoint...his checkpoint. 

Is this what it feels like to be normal?, he wonders, Is this what it feels like to really connect with someone? He has never felt this before. He’s never met someone who has such an effect on him, understand him like this - Without even having to ask she grounded him; she knew what he needed and didn’t make him feel like an idiot about it. Instead she gave him the comfort he needed.

And suddenly he finds himself afraid - realizing that this isn’t simply a vibe of two buddies hanging out. He has that subtle ache in his chest that’s telling him he wants something…something substantial from this friendship. He wants this to last, or for it to blossom, he’s not sure yet. But for the first time, he doesn’t feel the overwhelming need to figure it out. That’s one of the many effects this girl has on him - she’s the definition of improvisation, unpredictable and alive. He’s slowly learning to let loose himself, all thanks to her. Slowly, he’s learning to trust time. 

He abruptly realizes he’s glancing at her often as the movie is still running, examining her features and slowly running his gaze down the length of her fishnet-clad thighs before quickly looking away, mentally scolding himself. It’s hard, but he manages to turn his gaze elsewhere for his sake and hers. For the sake of keeping things normal, platonic and not in any way awkward for either of them. The last thing he needs is to make things weird by letting his mind wander and activate his libido and then she’d really notice how tense he is. 

Cora remains oblivious to what’s going on in his head, thank God, as she continues running her thumb across his knuckles, eyes half lidded in calm content - something that’d typically seem like the complete opposite of what she is. He likes seeing her like this, tamed almost. He feels like no one else has had the privilege to see this calm side of her. Maybe that’s not the truth - it probably isn’t - but he still feels special, knowing that it’s a tight circle of people who have seen her this way.

And then he realizes the movements of her thumb on his hand have stopped.

He freezes for a moment, his fearful gaze travelling to her face where he’s relieved to find her eyes closed only seconds before he hears a light snore escape her.

She’s fallen asleep.

It’s an odd scene. She’s such a wild and free spirit, seeing her fall asleep like this is like observing an abnormality, a paranormal event. You know, like something one doesn’t usually believe exists or is capable of happening. He’d never before been able to imagine her asleep. It’s ridiculous, he’s aware - she’s human after all, but his mind has never been able to comprehend the thought and image of her captured by the power of sleep. He simply couldn’t see it happening. But now that it’s happened in front of him, he can’t look away from the sight of her relaxed, peaceful features, overcome by sudden slumber.

And then he comes to the realization that he’s now practically held hostage on his own couch, crippled by the danger of waking her up. It’s gonna be a long while, isn’t it, he thinks to himself, yet there’s still a satisfied smile on his face. A smile that’s a result of knowing he’s held hostage by her. That’s more a blessing than a curse, if he’s being honest.

@fockingwhore  @vixenl  @annshit  @wineandionysus  @wiseflamingoqueen

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse fanfiction #corpse fic #corpse fluff #corpse fandom #corpse fanfic #corpse x you #corpse x y/n #corpse x reader #corpse x oc #corpse x original character #corpse imagines #corpse imagine #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband x oc #corpse husband x female reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #fandom #humor #romance #original female character #original character