#but i have blue hair so everything will be okay

[themotherofhorses]

simon riley x fem!reader

Imagine holding Simon when he cries. 

Simon Riley is an incredibly strong man, an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Since joining the SAS in 2001, he has created a name for himself. A military legend—seemingly more ghost-like than flesh and blood. But that is the farthest from the truth, isn’t it? Cause, at the end of the day, he is still human. You’re his girl, the love of his life. His true love—his only love.

You are a source of comfort he somehow found in this shitty, cold world. The home he never had the privilege of experiencing; your arms have provided him with everything he was denied during boyhood.  

So imagine your Simon arriving home one evening—dead silent—merely shuffling his way to where you’re seated comfortably on the living room couch. His duffle bag drops near his leather recliner before the balaclava is tossed to the side. On his face is a certain heaviness, a sadness twisted in his handsome features; his blue eyes are not as bright as they usually are.

You swallow. Did something happen during the mission? 

“What is wrong, baby?” You coo, stretching your arms out wide to welcome him in. 

Without another thought, Simon tucks himself into your embrace, with his head resting gently on your chest. Against your breast, he can hear your heartbeat thundering away in your chest, moving in a rhythm that matches his. He reckons he is the luckiest bastard in the world, to find a soulmate who compliments him in every aspect of life. 

He lets out a small sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his throat closing up as tears begin to well up. His bottom lip trembles before he bites down on it. 

“Simon,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “What happened, my love?” 

Another tear, followed by three more. A tiny, shaky exhale. Simon remains utterly still for a moment, not saying anything, until…“It’s my father’s birthday today.” His voice is quiet, breathless, unbelievably thick with sheer sadness. 

Your face falls at that. “Oh, Simon.” A sad smile pulls at your lips while you hug him closer, peppering more kisses up and down his hairline, pausing to brush back soft, blonde strands. You say nothing more as he continues to weep in your arms, entire body racking with choked-up sobs and uneven breathing. 

“I loved him,” Simon rasps out, pulling his face up from your neck. Both his cheeks and nose are a cherry-red, with baby-blue eyes bloodshot and puffy, lined with fresh tears. For a moment, he wasn’t the Simon Riley you fell in love with, but the Simon Riley who was five-years-old—all scrawny, little legged and freshly bruised, hiding behind the bookcase in his parents’ bedroom. 

“Loved him so bloody much.” 

You don’t know what to say. What can you even say? Nothing can heal those wounds, cut so deep in his heart and soul that any slight movement reopens them. “I know you did.” You kiss his nose, minding the mess of tears and snot. 

His fists slowly tighten, knuckles whitening as all the memories of his father begin to flood through him; they all carry an agonizing sensation, the kind that is too fuckin' painful to discuss aloud, yet too damn gut-wrenching to keep bottled up inside.

“Do ya…” he hiccups, clearing his throat. “Do ya think…in another life…?” 

In another life. You think for a moment, carding your fingers softly through his hair. “Maybe, my love…” 

Simon nods. “Maybe,” he croaks out, keeping his arms tight around you. There, on the couch, you continue to hold him, letting his torrent of tears soak your shirt; time and time again, your fingers run through his hair in some silent attempt to ease the little boy wailing inside. 

“It’s okay, baby.”

You kiss his temple.

“You’re alright. Let it out, baby.” 

He’ll be alright tomorrow. You know it. In the morning, he’ll be barefoot and content in the kitchen, baking his mother’s special recipe of blueberry and pineapple pancakes—a cup of milk, one egg, blueberries, pineapple, and, of course, the batter—all while waiting for your arms to circle around his chest. 

But for right now, he is five years old, finally being embraced in arms so warm and loving and protective—so unbelievably perfect. The feeling incites more tears.

"Thank you, baby," he mumbles, gently kissing your collarbone; it's a kiss so rich with love, appreciation, and adoration that it stirs up butterflies in your tummy. "For everything."

For everything. Oh, you silly boy. "Simon." You smile down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "For you, my love? I'd do anything."

note: a little drabble for my "let simon riley cry 2024" campaign. thanks!

#vic writes 🧸 #call of duty #cod mw #cod ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x fem!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x fem!reader

[redroomreflections]

II HANDS II HEAVEN 5

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

W/c: 3.2k

“Red or Blue?” You asked Natasha as you sifted through one of your many suitcases. Clothes were strewn about on the floor around you as you debated what to wear. It wasn’t exactly a tough choice but first impressions mattered. Even if the first impressions you were banking on weren’t the other hotel guests. 

“What?” She glanced up from her phone, confusion evident in her furrowed brow. “Why are you asking me?” 

She was busy debriefing Steve and the team on a few minor details. Small things she picked up about the resort from your time in the lobby. So far, as expected, everything seemed normal. 

You glanced over, noticing her distraction, and rolled your eyes. "Just trying to involve you in the decision-making process. You know, team effort. Don’t you have girlfriends that you discuss outfit choices with?” 

 "Not really my style," She replied dryly, before resuming her conversation with Steve and the team, seamlessly slipping back into her professional demeanor.

“I can see,” You muttered as you slipped into the bathroom. You took your time changing into the black suit, tying it as best you could behind your neck before you snapped the straps of the bottoms on your waistline. You walk back over to your suitcase, squatting to find your favorite lotion-sunscreen combo that always has your skin looking lovely and sparkly. “I guess it’s not okay to ask you if I should wear my hair up or down?” You tilted your head, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you applied generous amounts of lotion to your legs. With one knee bent, you glanced over to Natasha, waiting for her response.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement as she glanced up from her phone. "I suppose you can ask," she replied. "But don't expect any expert advice from me."

You shook your head. What a shame. "Fair enough," you conceded, finishing up with the lotion before returning to your suitcase. "Looks like it's just me and my questionable fashion sense then."

It’s then Natasha truly looked at you. This bikini was wow. In every sense of the word. It was very little, borderline inappropriate, but also somehow still tasteful. Natasha's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary as she took in the sight, a subtle appreciation glinting in her eyes.

"Um, Natasha?" You prompted, noticing her prolonged scrutiny.

Natasha blinked, snapping out of her reverie. "Oh, uh, sorry," she replied, clearing her throat. "Wear your hair down. It suits the look."

You didn't catch her response at first, too engrossed in adjusting the straps of your bikini top. "What was that?" you asked, looking up to meet her gaze.

Natasha repeated herself, her tone more decisive this time. "I said, wear it down. It looks good." 

You grinned in response, nodding in agreement before turning your attention back to your reflection in the mirror. Natasha's subtle compliment brought warmth to your cheeks and a little more pep in your step.

“Are you wearing that?” You gestured to her as you made eye contact in the mirror across from the bed. It's an interesting choice on the resort’s part. Natasha’s outfit was homely but not in an insulting kind of way. A comfy set since the both of you had spent hours in the car.  With this blonde hair, she resembled the everyday girl next door. 

“Of course not,” Natasha shook her head. She grabbed her bikini from the luggage she’d unpacked already at this point.  “Don’t turn around.” She warned you. 

You turned your gaze toward the mirror, only to witness a blur of motion behind you. Clothes flew through the air as Natasha swiftly shed her sweatpants and t-shirt and stepped into her one-piece swimsuit with practiced efficiency.

The speed and fluidity of her movements left you momentarily speechless, your mouth suddenly feeling dry as you watched in awe. You attempted to distract yourself with the jewelry in front of you. Diamond hoop earrings and a small heart-shaped necklace. 

Natasha looked up from fastening her sandals. "Are you ready?"

You raised an eyebrow in mock indignation. "You just got dressed and you’re already rushing me?"

Natasha chuckled, her smirk widening as she shook her head. "I like to stay ahead of schedule," she replied, her tone teasing. 

You rolled your eyes with a grin. "Alright, alright," you conceded, reaching for your sandals. "I'm ready when you are."

“You’re wearing jewelry to the pool?” She questioned, pushing the Fendi sunglasses over her hair. 

Natasha's question caught you off guard as you adjusted your jewelry, a puzzled expression on your face. 

You glanced down at your accessories, contemplating her observation for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "Why not?" you replied, your fingers deftly arranging the delicate pieces. "A little extra never hurt anyone."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “ If you say so," she conceded."Just don't come crying to me if you lose something in the water."

“Don’t worry I’ll find some hot pool boy to find it for me,” You shrugged. 

Natasha arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she shot back with equal snarkiness, "Just make sure he's qualified for the job."

***********

The pool area stirred with activity, a lively mix of people young and old enjoying the serene surroundings. The crystal-clear water sparkled under the sun's gentle rays, creating a picturesque scene that called to you.

Finding a few empty seats nearby, you and Natasha made your way over, the soft chatter of voices and the occasional splash of water filling the air. There was some reggae mix on the stereo as the bartender called out names for drinks. Dropping your bags and book onto the nearest chair, you settled down with a contented sigh, sinking into the welcoming embrace of the cushioned seat.

“Joan, sweetie,” You said with a mischievous grin, turning to Natasha. “I left my towel back in the room. Won’t you be a dear and grab me one?”

Natasha narrowed her eyes at your request, having just settled into her seat. She tilted her head slightly, a hint of annoyance in her gaze as she considered your cheeky demeanor. With a low growl, Natasha stood and walked over to the shelf where the spare towels were. She grabbed a few, walking back over to you with a frown. 

“Here,” She gently passed a towel to you. “Anything else?”

“Hmm,” You thought long and hard. “I’d love a strawberry-lemon mojito.”

Natasha's eyes narrowed further at your response."Keep dreaming," she wanted to say, but for the sake of appearances, she sighed and walked over to the bartender.  

You watched her walk away, your eyes lingering on certain assets longer than necessary. You could admit that Natasha had an amazing physique. Something you had always admired from a distance. 

A subtle flush crept up your cheeks as you realized the direction of your thoughts. Despite your professionalism, you couldn't deny the admiration you held for Natasha's physical prowess. It was a quality you had always respected, even if you had never openly acknowledged it before.

She’d probably kill you if you did it anyway. 

Turning your attention back to the pool, you made a conscious effort to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside any lingering distractions. Beside you, you noticed an older woman with graying hair casting a curious glance in your direction. Her eyes flashed with interest as she leaned closer, a warm smile gracing her lips.

“Newlyweds?” she ventured, her voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" you replied, feigning innocence as you awaited her response.

The older lady chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement at your response. "Oh, it's just something about the way you two carry yourselves," she explained with a knowing smile. "There's a certain glow of happiness and togetherness that newlyweds often have. It's unmistakable."

“Wow, you got all that in the five minutes you saw us together?” You questioned. “Are you a psychic or something?”

"Only in a past life," She laughed lightly. "I'm Leslie. And this is my husband Frank. “She referred to the sleeping man with a slight sunburn next to her. You are?" she introduced herself, extending her hand in a gesture of greeting.

"Alexis," you replied with a warm smile, accepting her handshake. "Nice to meet you, Leslie. My lovely wife over there is Joan."

"Oh, I love this newer generation of out and proud love," Leslie smiled wistfully. "It’s so beautiful to see. Such a beautiful couple too. Is this your first time at the resort?"

"Thank you, Leslie," you replied sincerely, touched by her kindness. "Yes, it's our first time here. We heard wonderful things about the resort and couldn't resist experiencing it for ourselves."

“And how do you like it?” Her eyes sparkled with interest. 

"It's been quite lovely so far," You added. “It’s been a while since we’ve taken a proper vacation together. I’m so excited for the week we’re here.” 

Leslie's excitement was contagious as she spoke about the upcoming events at the resort. "You’re going to be blown away by all of the events this week," she grinned. "There’s a special bonfire tomorrow night that’s simply fabulous. It’s intimate and cozy. Allows you to make friends on vacation."

Your interest was piqued at the mention of the bonfire, as it hadn’t been mentioned in any of the research you’d done. Maybe it was a new development."That sounds wonderful," you replied with genuine enthusiasm, masking any hint of suspicion behind your smile. "We'll definitely have to check it out."

“You absolutely should,” Leslie began to stand. “It would be wonderful for a lovely couple like you to grace us with your presence.” Leslie’s aching bones limited her mobility as she shuffled around the chairs. “I’m going to the bathroom. If Frank wakes up, which I doubt he will, be a dear and tell him I’ll be back.”

“Will do, Leslie,” You nodded, offering a warm smile. She seemed nice enough. You returned your gaze to Natasha to see that she was engaged in a conversation of her own. Seems that people naturally gravitated to both of you. 

*******************

For the first time in days, Natasha found a moment of peace at the bar. She settled onto one of the stools, swaying gently to the rhythm of the music as she signaled to the bartender. As he approached Natasha did a quick once over of his body. Something someone of his attractiveness would be used to. His dark, mahogany skin glowed with a natural warmth, complemented by a smile that seemed to light up the entire bar. 

His hair, a messy of glossy curls, framed his face in a wild and untamed mane, adding to his charm.

He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants that appeared to be the uniform for all of the staff. 

"Hello," Natasha greeted him with a warm smile, her tone playful yet composed. "I'll take a strawberry and lemon mojito, and hmm," she paused, pressing a finger to her chin in contemplation. She was completely in character at the moment. "Surprise me. Something fruity."

"Coming right up," he replied with a nod, before stepping over to his work area. 

Natasha watched him for a few moments longer before her eyes trailed over the pool area, she couldn't help but notice the diverse display of people and their lively parties. Briefly, her gaze flickered in your direction, a silent acknowledgment of your presence. You managed to look so relaxed already. Though she could see the subtle ways your eyes would flick over the pool area whenever you laughed or spoke to the older woman sitting beside you. 

“Hey, Henry, that couple’s here again.” A short woman with bone-straight brunette hair and botox lips informed him as she stepped behind the counter. She did quick work of washing her hands and gathering abandoned dishes on the bar. Natasha squinted to see her name tag. Blanca. A fitting name. 

“Which one?” Henry, the bartender Natasha had spoken to moments earlier, briefly glanced over to her. 

“The one with the dog,” Blanca sighed. “Don’t know why Jorge keeps allowing them to bring it. He’s anxious and it’s too hot out here for him anyway.” 

Henry furrowed his brow in concern, glancing briefly in the direction of the couple with the dog approaching. "That doesn't sound good," he remarked."Have they caused any trouble?"

Blanca shook her head, her lips pursed in disapproval. "Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. You know how Jorge is, always bending the rules for certain guests."

Natasha's mind raced with possibilities as she listened to their conversation. The mention of Jorge and his leniency towards certain guests hinted at a potential breach in security or protocol. 

“Here you are ma’am,” Henry passed Natasha both drinks before she stood to walk back to her seat. 

As she passed the couple, the dog in question moved over to sniff Natasha in greeting. 

“Oh, hello there,” Natasha smiled warmly, reaching out a hand to give the dog a gentle pat on the head. This certainly wasn’t a service dog based on his relaxed demeanor.

“Oh, Ozzy is so friendly, I’m so sorry,” The woman with platinum blonde hair and several tattoos attached to the leash apologized to Natasha, a hint of concern in her voice.

Natasha waved off the apology with a gracious smile. "No need to apologize, he's quite adorable," she reassured the woman, her tone friendly and welcoming.

As Natasha continued interacting with the dog, she noted the couple's appearance and demeanor. Something about them didn't quite fit the typical resort guest profile of this caliber, and Natasha's instincts told her there might be more to their presence than meets the eye. They both seemed so uptight and frazzled. 

Natasha gave them another smile and walked back over to you. 

“Took you long enough my drink is probably watered-down liquor,” You pouted. “Eh, this is wow.” You coughed. It wasn’t nasty. It was strong and certainly had more alcohol than fruit somehow. 

Natasha arched an eyebrow at your remark. 

"Well, perhaps next time you can come behind the bar and make it yourself," she quipped, her tone laced with playful sarcasm. "Then you can ensure it meets your exacting standards."

“My existing standards led me to you,” You said through your teeth. 

Natasha's lips curved into a smirk as she settled into the seat beside you, her gaze locking with yours in a silent exchange of understanding.

"Well, lucky me," she retorted. "I'll make sure to keep living up to those standards then."

"Does it ever end?" You fake whispered, turning your head towards Leslie, attempting to convey your thoughts discreetly.

Leslie caught your gaze and smiled kindly, her eyes reflecting understanding. At least she had the decency to pretend she wasn’t listening. "Oh, dear," she replied with a chuckle.  "Sometimes it feels like it never does, but there's always a light at the end of the tunnel."

"J, this is Leslie," You introduced Natasha smoothly, seamlessly slipping into your cover story. "She’s my new best friend."

"It's lovely to meet you, Leslie," Natasha added with a friendly smile, her tone warm and genuine.

“Well, aren't you two just the sweetest pair," she remarked, her voice tinged with affection. "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Joan. I was telling your wife here about the bonfire tomorrow. It’s something special. You have to see it."

You nodded in agreement, your smile genuine as you responded. "We wouldn't miss it for the world, Leslie. Thank you for the recommendation. It sounds like a wonderful way to spend the evening."

As the conversation dwindled, eventually Leslie drifted over to the poolside and began to make conversation with a few older women. Natasha began to go through the bag she’d brought to the pool and found a small bottle of sunscreen. 

"Here, rub this on me," She instructed you, handing you a bottle of sunscreen.

"Why?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice as you eyed her pale skin. "Didn’t you already put some on before?"

Natasha gave you a pointed look, her expression conveying a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Don’t question the logic, just do it," she replied firmly, holding out her arm expectantly.

As you began applying sunscreen to Natasha's exposed skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over you. Silently, you wondered why you had taken on this job in the first place. It wasn't that you were truly angry; in fact, you were the complete opposite. 

This part of the mission had never been difficult before. Playing the part of a fake doting wife had practically become second nature to you. But being here with Natasha felt different. There was something about her presence that stirred emotions within you, emotions you hadn't expected to surface during the mission.

Natasha turned her back to you, dropping the straps of her swimsuit lower on her arms so you could reach her shoulders. The intimacy of the moment caught you off guard, and for a brief moment, you found yourself lost in the sensation of her warm skin beneath your fingertips.

As you rubbed the warm cream into Natasha's skin, the muscles of her back flexed slightly beneath your touch. You couldn't help but notice the way her body responded to your ministrations, and a rush of thoughts flooded your mind. They weren't entirely pure thoughts, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the direction your mind was wandering.

But then, a small comfort washed over you - at least Natasha couldn't read minds. You silently thanked whatever higher power existed for that small mercy, grateful that your innermost thoughts remained your own.

"I think we could hang out by the pool for a few hours and then call it a night," Natasha suggested, her voice breaking the comfortable silence between you. "Maybe go over some things."

"Sounds like a plan," you replied, masking any hint of hesitation with a casual tone. "A bit of relaxation by the pool is exactly what I’m here for.”

“Only that?” Natasha looked over her shoulder to you. “And the beautiful women,” You muttered under your breath. 

Natasha's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features as she turned to face you fully. "Really?" she questioned, her voice carrying a note of exasperation.

You chuckled, recognizing her annoyance but unable to resist pushing her buttons just a little. "Hey, just stating the obvious," You replied with a shrug. 

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Well, try to keep your eyes open okay?" she retorted, a touch of teasing in her tone despite her annoyance. “Don’t sleep with anyone behind my back.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” You pressed a hand to your chest, faking scandilization. “How dare you insinuate I would ever cheat on my beautiful, intelligent, and hot wife.” 

“That drink was stronger than you’re letting on,” Natasha smirked knowingly. 

“Maybe,” You shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.” You sighed as you lounged in the chair, your head pointed towards the sun. Natasha turned in her chair to watch you for a few seconds longer before she laid back in her chair. 

So far, there was nothing out of the ordinary about this place. It seemed like a typical resort, with sun-drenched pool areas, lush tropical foliage, and guests lounging lazily in the warm afternoon sun. 

Everything appeared to be just as it should be, with no signs of the covert operations or clandestine activities that you had been tasked with uncovering.

Despite the lack of immediate danger or suspicious behavior, you remained vigilant, knowing that appearances could be deceiving.

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #black reader #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you

[glorious-spoon]

your way or nothing at all [9-1-1 | Eddie Diaz | 1/1]

1500 words character study | mild angst | weddings | background buck/tommy, eddie/marisol | pre-relationship buddie | not quite a feelings realization for eddie but he's getting there

-

In the quieting dark, Eddie lingers by the tables, the empty chairs pushed together in a cluster for a conversation long since abandoned. It's late enough that people are starting to filter out into the night, and pretty much everybody left is crowded at the open bar or swaying on the dance floor. At the high table, Maddie has Buck's suit jacket draped over her shoulders and her cheek tipped against Chim's shoulder, and he's looking down at her with a dopily besotted expression that Eddie can clock even from here.

It makes him feel like—something, some kind of nostalgia for the wedding he never got to have with Shannon. That whole day felt like being hustled through a play that he never learned his lines to. Shannon was three months pregnant and deep in the throes of vicious morning sickness that was not improved by the catering or the stress of the day, so he spent their wedding night holding back her hair in the honeymoon suite his parents paid for and trying desperately to feel like he had a single fucking clue what he was doing. Trying to feel like a man and a husband and a father-to-be and mostly feeling like a complete fraud.

They deserved better. Both of them. Now, in this moment, after this day, it soothes more than it stings to watch Maddie and Chim hold onto each other so easily.

The song changes, and he watches a swirl of motion on the bar side of the dance floor, the particular energy that's easily identifiable as Buck even before he emerges from the crowd. Normally, maybe Eddie would gravitate in, but Buck's got a hand linked together with Tommy's, and they're laughing, and so he stays where he is. Just watches.

It's sweet, a little fumbling as Buck very obviously tries to figure out the logistics of slow-dancing with another guy. Tommy says something in a low voice and settles a palm on his hip, and Buck ducks his head, laughing, and leans into him.

It's sweet. It is. Eddie's throat fucking aches.

He doesn't know why, not really. Maybe it's the smile on Buck's face, wide and giddy and almost embarrassingly bright. He never smiled at Natalia like that, or Taylor. Maybe Ali, but the truth is that back then Eddie wasn't looking for it. Back then, he was so caught up in everything with Shannon, and he and Buck were barely more than friendly coworkers, as strange as that idea seems now.

He probably smiled at Abby like that. Eddie wasn't around for that relationship, only the aftermath, but he can imagine it. You don't hurt that badly when someone leaves you unless you really fucking loved them.

"You would not believe the line for the bathroom," Marisol says from behind him, and Eddie jolts like he just grabbed a high-voltage wire. He tries to spin it into something graceful as he turns to face her, but he's pretty sure it doesn't work, and also pretty sure that he shouldn't be feeling quite so jumpscared at the sight of his girlfriend. His heart is pounding. He rubs his knuckles against his sternum, and Marisol asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he says. "Sorry. You startled me."

"No, it's fine." She smiles at him, and it's pretty. She looks pretty, in a blue dress that looks black in this light, little metallic threads picked through and glittering. It hugs the curves of her body in a way that Eddie feels obligated to notice, and so he does, and when he looks her in the eye again she's smiling wider, and that's pretty too and Eddie—

Eddie still feels like a fucking fraud.

"I got you a beer," Marisol says. She's got a glass of wine in her other hand. White wine, lipstick marks on the rim.

Eddie smiles back and takes the bottle she hands him. "Thanks."

"I wasn't sure what you'd want." She grins at him, flirty. "You'll have to tell me if I made a bad guess."

He sips the beer. It's a lager, hoppy and astringent in a way that leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He takes another drink and smiles around the grimace his mouth wants to make. "It's perfect. Thank you."

The pleased relief in her smile doesn't make the lie feel any better. He takes another sip and sets the bottle down, and Marisol settles her hip against his chair, close enough that he can feel the warmth of her body. Close enough that he could wrap an arm around her thighs and pull her into his lap, if he wanted to do that. He shifts forward instead, leaning his elbows against the table, and she lets out a quiet sound and sets her glass down to sit in the chair next to him. The music switches over from Christina Perri to what Eddie is pretty sure is Savage Garden, and on the dance floor Tommy says something that makes Buck laugh and pull him closer.

"They're cute together," Marisol observes. "Buck and, um… Tommy?"

Eddie's fingers twitch on his beer bottle. "Yeah."

"I didn't know that he was, you know…" she trails off. Eddie looks over at her, and she adds, "Not that there's anything wrong with it! I just, I thought he had a girlfriend."

"They broke up. He dates guys too," Eddie says, more emphatically than is really necessary. Like this is a truth that he's always known instead of something Buck told him two weeks ago in the loft, quiet and careful like he was afraid of how Eddie would react. Like he was afraid of Eddie.

It was a date, we were on a date.

So it's new for Buck, too. Not just him. But still.

It feels like something he should have known.

"Okay," Marisol says. The corners of her mouth tighten, and she takes a pointed sip of her wine. "I didn't know that, is all."

I didn't know either, Eddie imagines saying, but the words strangle themselves in his throat just the same as, Actually, I don't like lagers, and, I don't really want company tonight, did. He wonders how the hell Buck does it—just opens his mouth and lets the truth spill out. Eddie can only manage that when it's for other people. Never for himself.

"Sorry," he says out loud. "It's been… a day."

Marisol's face softens a little, and he feels like shit about that, too. It has been a day, is the thing. He woke up in a bathtub, more hungover than he's been in at least a decade, and after that was a wild goose-chase through the desert to retrieve Chim in time for the wedding, and all that is plenty of reason for him to be off his game now. It's just that somehow it also feels like a fucking lie.

On the dance floor, Buck has his cheek pressed to Tommy's. He says something, and Tommy's shoulders shake with laughter, and then they both turn, moving easily together into a kiss. It's quick and tender, and Eddie abruptly feels like the worst kind of voyeur for watching it happen. He turns his head away and finds Marisol looking at him.

The music changes again. TLC, he's pretty sure, because Chim is deep down a very basic Gen X music kind of guy. Or maybe it was Maddie's pick, who knows. Anyway. It's a little more upbeat, but still slow enough to dance to.

"You, uh." He clears his throat, and finds a smile that feels almost right. "Come on, you wanna dance before they close it all down? They're playing our song."

"This is our song?" Marisol asks, but she's laughing. "I don't even think I was born yet when it came out."

Eddie shrugs and holds out a hand. "It could be our song. Maybe for tonight it's just a good song to dance to."

That must have been the right thing to say. She smiles, sets her wine down, and slips her hand into his, letting him tug her to her feet. They wind their way through the chairs to the dance floor, and under the string lights she settles easily into his arms. 

I know you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all, rasps the singer in a sweetly smoky voice, as Eddie closes his eyes, and sways, and breathes, but I think you're moving too fast.

I think you're moving too fast.

He breathes in, and out, and opens his eyes. Marisol smiles up at him, and he smiles back, then cuts his eyes away. There are still a handful of people left on the dance floor with them: Athena and Bobby, swaying together like they're in their own little world, a couple of Buckley cousins with their dates. Buck and Tommy are gone, though, and Eddie almost cranes his head through the crowd to see where they got to before he catches himself.

"To tell you the truth," Marisol says. "I really don't think this is our song."

"Alright, well, we can find another one," Eddie says, and she laughs and sways into him, and he holds onto her, and when he closes his eyes, it's fine; it all feels fine.

#911 #911 fic #eddie diaz #buddie #bucktommy #my fic #i actually have no idea how to tag this pairing-wise lol #it is somehow both all and none of the above

[half-bakedboy]

one hell of a story

For @bucktommyweek prompt: alternate first meeting | 1.4k | Teen

Tommy's not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot. He owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor, which is how he finds himself trying to land a failing helicopter in the middle of a baseball field. Unfortunately, he fails. But he meets Evan in the process, so it's worth it.

read on ao3 or under the cut

“This is Taylor Kelly with your morning traffic update… and we are going down!”

----

Tommy isn’t even supposed to be here. He’s not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot and he owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor. Tommy was too kind to tell him to fuck off, though, he’s pretty sure those two words will leave his mouth the next time he sees Trent’s face. 

“Tommy, what’s going on?” Taylor shouts. She’s holding onto the seat belt around her like her life depends on it—and it does, but Tommy isn’t about to tell her that. 

“Some kind of engine malfunction. Does Trent keep this thing in good condition?” Tommy asks. 

“How am I supposed to know?!” He really hoped for a more confidence-inducing answer. “I’m pretty sure he likes this thing more than me if that says anything!” 

“It does,” Tommy mutters, though he knows Taylor can hear him through the radio. Trent always talked about his crush on the redhead and how he would drop everything if she agreed to date him. Unfortunately, Tommy now knows he’s not exactly her type—no man is—so he thinks he’ll have to break the news sooner rather than later. 

“Are we falling?! Why does it feel like we’re falling?!” Taylor screams, panicked gasps following in quick succession. 

“I’m going to do my best to land, okay? There’s a baseball field below us, and if all goes to plan, we’ll land safely and you’ll have one hell of a story,” Tommy relays. 

Taylor laughs humorlessly into the radio. “And if it doesn’t?” 

“It’ll still be one hell of a story,” he declares. 

Then he focuses on saving their lives. 

The baseball field is immense and empty enough that he doesn’t have to worry about collateral damage from the landing, but he realizes quickly it won’t be that easy. Every single control he usually manipulates with ease shakes under his grip, and no matter how much pressure he puts on the cyclic, there’s no tilting his way in the right direction. 

He gets the machine as close to the ground as possible and prays that’s enough. 

All he remembers is the blades getting louder, a metallic screeching, and a terror-filled shriek, then everything goes dark. 

“Tommy? Can you hear me?” 

“I think he’s coming to!” 

“Kinard, open those baby blues for us!” 

When Tommy blinks to consciousness, he feels like he’s been hit by a truck. 

“Nope, just crashed a helicopter,” an unfamiliar voice says. He sees the blur of a few hands reaching out to slap the man, and when he follows the arms, he thinks he must be dreaming. 

“Wilson? Han?” Tommy’s voice is almost hoarse and he wonders how terrified Taylor was of his warning screams—

Taylor. 

He jolts up as best as he can but Hen and Chimney hold him down before he can go too far. The pain that radiates through his chest knocks the breath out of him and he falls horizontal once more, clutching his stomach in pain. He breathes quickly and shallowly, as any attempts to fill his lungs result in sharp twinges of pain. Someone he doesn’t recognize—the voice from before—places an oxygen mask over his face. 

“She’s fine. Not a scratch on her,” the man soothes. Tommy likes the sound of his voice. He stops trying to escape his old teammates’ grasp and instead, angles his head back to connect eyes with the unknown man. 

He’s a boy, really. Looks at least a decade younger than Tommy, but that doesn’t stop the rush of attraction that seeps through him. The man’s hair is mussed up like someone has run their hands through it—Tommy wants to run his hands through it—and he’s wearing his turnout coat unbuttoned like the picture of casuality. Tommy’s not sure he’s ever seen someone wear the uniform with such confidence and such… sweetness. He’s squinting his eyes from the sun though Tommy still notices a few small pink patches surrounding his eyebrow that match the color of his unfairly kissable lips. 

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hen decides. Tommy knows he’s been caught when he recognizes the sarcasm in her voice. Hen’s always been an observant one. He can practically hear her eyes roll as she makes quick introductions. “Tommy, this is Evan Buckley. Buck, Tommy Kinard.”

“From Air Ops,” Evan says eagerly. Tommy’s stomach flips at the acknowledgment. How has he never heard of Evan before? “What are you doing flying with Taylor Kelly?”

“Slumming it with Skywitness Traffic, Tommy? I can’t believe I saved your life for this,” Chimney teases. Tommy smacks him on his nearest body part and takes the oxygen mask off of his face. 

As if on instinct, Evan reaches to put it back, and their hands brush and linger. 

Tommy hates to be cliche, but they’re lucky the ambulance doesn’t blow up when the sparks fly through the flowing oxygen. Actually, being touched by Evan Buckley seems like a hell of a way to go…

“Was helping out an old army friend,” Tommy explains. “Can’t let L.A. fall subject to bad traffic patterns, can I?” 

Evan laughs, and Tommy’s stomach does a weird fluttering he hasn’t felt in ages. 

“Guess you regret that favor, huh?” Chimney jokes. 

“Not anymore,” Tommy mutters just loud enough for Evan to hear. 

Tommy makes sure to maintain eye contact and only barely stops himself from winking at the poor kid. He’s blushing like crazy, redness spreading up from underneath his high neckline and overtaking his adorable cheeks. From the stillness around them, Tommy doesn’t think this is usual behavior, and he can’t help but feel a little satisfied about that. He chances a glance at Hen and Chimney who are both staring at Evan like he’s lost his damn mind. It takes everything in Tommy not to giggle—both because of embarrassment and the fact he might actually pass out from pain if he does.

“So, what’s the verdict, Evan?” Tommy asks.

The adorable man blinks a few times before glancing up at Hen and Chimney, who Tommy is very aware are the ones with the answer to his question. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy sees Hen gesturing for Evan to answer himself. 

“U-Um, I’m sure you feel ten-tenderness in your ribs so that’s… gotta be looked at.” Evan shakes his head like he’s all too aware of his stammering, but Tommy couldn’t be more smitten. “You lost consciousness so H-Hen—she checked for any issues with your eyes but nothing abnormal. How’s your head?” 

Without thinking, Tommy replies, “Would you like to find out?” 

There’s a chorus of: “Tommy!” “Get a room!” “Jesus Christ!” “Oh my god!” 

All of which are ignored by both of them. 

Instead, Evan tilts his head and smiles—it would’ve knocked Tommy off his feet if he were standing. 

“I think I just might,” Evan agrees. 

“Oh, you two are made for each other,” Hen turns toward Chimney, “how did we not see that?”

“Buck likes guys?!” Chimney says instead. Evan blushes even deeper and Tommy’s glad that he’s not on a heart monitor for all to see it skip a beat. “No, I’m done with this. To answer your question, Tommy, you may have an acute head injury and you definitely have some broken ribs. We’ve gotta get you to the hospital so if you’re done flirting…” 

“What if I’m not?” Tommy argues, just to rile Chimney up a little more. Tommy always enjoyed that—misses it, really. “What if I want to see Evan blush a little more?” 

“Oh my god,” Buck mumbles. He hides his face in his hands, but Tommy can still see the smile lines between the cracks in his fingers. “Hen, get him out of here.” 

“Got it, Buckaroo,” she agrees, shrugging at Tommy playfully. 

“I didn’t get your number!” Tommy shouts as best as he can with presumably broken ribs. He knows they’ll hurt a lot more the second he focuses on them, but how can he focus on anything but Evan? 

“118.” 

With that, Hen shuts the doors and Tommy sighs the happiest sigh he can muster. 

“Oh, he’s—” Tommy doesn’t even have the words, but Hen seems to understand.

“You’re in trou-ble, Kinard.” She clicks her tongue. 

And Tommy’s never been so excited by the prospect. 

(Chimney derails any further conversation with a line of consciousness that starts with, “Okay, since when do both Tommy and Buck like men?! How did I miss this?!”) 

#bucktommy #kinley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 on abc #bucktommyweekend #buck x tommy #tevan #i hate tagging that pls stop making me #911 #911 fic #bucktommy fic #my writing

[zegrasdrysdale]

matthew knies smut — losing ur v card to him

[ helping hand ] m. knies

paring : Matthew Knies x fem!reader

summary : Matthew helps his best friend out after she asks him to take her virginity

warning(s) : smut ! loss of virginity, virgin!reader, light dirty talk, slight hair pulling (blink and you'll miss it tbh) oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, protected sex, use of pet names during sex (pretty girl, baby, etc.), multiple orgasms

author’s note : felt like writing something cute so i decided to tackle this request and make it as cute as i could. this is my first time writing for kniesy so if it’s bad then pls tell me lol

༺═──────────────═༻

Being a 20-year-old virgin sucks. Every time she tries to hook up with a guy, she blurts out that she’s “never done this before” and it scares him away. Needless to say, she is getting very tired of being a virgin. She's loves sex, but she's never gone all the way with a guy.

Tonight was just another reminder that she's never been fucked. She thought that after her date, he'd take her back to his apartment and she'd finally lose her virginity. Then he said that his mom was going to be home soon just as things started getting heated, right after she had said that she's never gone all the way.

It's a tiring pattern.

She's frustrated, and frustration means stomping up to her longtime best friend's Toronto apartment a little before eleven. She pounds her fist on Matthew's door then waits. There are light footsteps behind the door before it's pulled open.

Matthew looks like he just woke up, and she feels bad. His Toronto hockey shirt is a little wrinkled and he's wearing sweats. His hair is a complete disaster. "Did I wake you?" she questions.

He yawns, but shakes his head no. "I was just closing my eyes," he tells her. "I thought you were out on a date or something. Why are you here?"

"You'll never guess what happened," she sighs as she walks past him into his apartment. "I did it again."

Matthew laughs and shuts the door behind her. "You need to stop," he comments. "You're never going to lose it if you keep telling guys that you haven't gone all the way. You're twenty."

"I know!" she groans as she plops down onto his couch. "It's like a get scared or something and it just comes out. I wish I could just get it over with and then it won't come out."

He sits beside her and she looks up at him. "Don't rush it," he tells her. "It's not all that anyway. Just wait until you find someone you trust and genuinely like."

A light bulb flicks on in her head. She sits up and turns her body to face Matthew. "Will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Sleep with me so I'm not a virgin anymore," she finishes. He raises his eyebrows and looks like he's about to object. "I mean, I trust you with everything I have. You're my best friend. You're not bad looking. I've known you for years, Matthew. I'd be okay if you did this for me. It wouldn't change anything with us."

Matthew thinks about it. She knows by the way he sighs and runs his fingers through his messy hair. "You're sure about this?" he questions. "Because I don't want to do this then-"

She rolls his eyes in frustration and cups his jaw. She pulls him into a kiss, and it surprises her when she feels her heart beat out of her chest when her lips meet his. Even Matthew is thrown off by the kiss. He immediately pulls back. She drops her hands to her lap.

"I'm not going to regret it, Matt," she tells him as her eyes meet his. Have his eyes always been this pretty and blue? She's never been this close to see how blue they are. "I promise. It might bring us closer as friends if we do this. I'm not going to stop being your friend because you slept with me."

He still doesn't seem very convinced. "This is going to change us," he tells her. "No matter what. I just want both of us to be ready for that."

With a nod, her eyes flicker down to his lips for a second before returning to his eyes. "I know," she replies. "Just ... please. I'll never ask you for anything ever again if you do this for me."

Matthew searches her face for any signs that she doesn't want this. He won't find any. If she's going to lose her virginity to anyone, she wouldn't mind losing it to her best friend. She wants this.

He doesn't say "okay" or anything like that. All he does is grab her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "If this is what you really want then I'll do it," he says to her, voice slightly higher than a whisper.

"I really want this," she confirms. "Seriously."

His eyes drop to her lips before he leans in and gently presses his lips to hers, and her eyes flutter shut. Her heart beats out of her chest with how soft and gently he kisses her.

The kisses don't immediately turn heated and needy. Matthew makes sure of that. When they do though, she climbs onto his lap in the red minidress that she's wearing. She straddles his thighs and wraps her arms loosely around his neck. Matthew's hands drop to the bare skin on her thighs.

Her heels clatter to the carpeted floor beneath them with a thud. Her fingers find a home and curl in his locks. She tugs gently and a soft noise comes from Matthew. She smiles into the kiss that follows and tucks this piece of information away for later.

She traps his bottom lip between her teeth and pulls back. She watches it snap back into place. Matthew looks up at her and she sees that his eyes have darkened a bit. There's a dark fire between them and she can tell he's trying to hold himself back.

"Pretend it's not me," she tells him as her hands drag down his neck and chest until they come to a rest on his torso. She play with the hem of his t-shirt. "I can tell, Matt. You're holding back because it's me."

Matthew shakes his head. "I'm holding back because I want to do this right," he replies. "It's not because it's you. I want to make sure that it's perfect for you."

"Then don't hold back," she whispers to him as she attaches her lips to his jaw right under his ear. "It'll be perfect no matter what."

A shaky sigh passes Matthew's kiss-bruised lips. He kisses the swell of her ear and she keeps working at his jaw.

Before she realizes what's happening, Matthew slides his hands to the back of her thighs and stands up. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "It's insane how easily you were able to just pick me up like that," she comments.

"I work out everyday," Matthew replies as he makes his way down the hallway to his bedroom. "Sometimes twice a day. I lay hits on grown men that weigh as much as I do or heavier for a living. I hope that I can lift someone up that is nearly a foot shorter than me and weighs less than what I bench."

She can't contain the giggle that rises in her throat as he crosses the threshold into his room. "That's kind of hot of you, Matt," she admits. "I mean, I don't know how you're single when you bench more than I weigh."

He kicks the door shut behind him and gently sets her down so she's flat on her feet. She sees the flush in his cheeks despite the dimly lit room. She smiles and gets on her tiptoes to instigate another kiss. Matthew has to lean down to kiss her because of the heigh difference between them. His hands rest on her cheeks and she rests against the door.

They stand there for what feels like an eternity. She's almost certain that the lace panties she has on under the dress are ruined. She hasn't be able to stop thinking about Matthew's fingers on her thighs while they were in the couch, not to mention the fact that he was able to pick her up with almost no effort.

Her fingers curl around the hem of his t-shirt and she pulls at it. "Off," she mumbles against his lips. "Matt, please. Off."

The kiss breaks and Matthew reaches down to pull the fabric over his head. Her eyes rake his body and it's very obvious that he works out every day. Her fingers trace his abs and she bites her bottom lip.

Okay, maybe he's more attractive than she's let herself admit. She's never really allowed herself to look at him like this. She's never let herself admire him like this.

Matthew hooks his fingers under the very thin straps that sit on her shoulders. She looks up at him and notices how focused he is on his actions. He pulls the straps off her shoulders and lets the dress fall so it pools at her ankles. She's in her strapless bra and matching panties. She notices Matthew's eyes drink her in.

She puts her hands on his chest and gently pushes him in the direction of his bed. She kicks the dress off so she can follow him. As soon as Matthew sits back on the bed, she crawls onto his lap. Her knees bracket his thighs. She leans in and ravishes his mouth with hers. One of his hands finds its way to her curls and he holds the back of her head so she can’t break the heated kiss.

Without realizing she does it, she rolls her hips against his. He hums and his other hand comes down on her bare waist.

A surge of confidence overcomes her and she reaches behind her. She unhooks her bra and lets the red lace fall between them. She tosses it somewhere at the same time Matthew breaks the kiss.

Her entire body shakes with nerves.

It’s just Matthew. They’ve been friends since his first year at Minnesota. Best friends since his sophomore year. She visited him earlier in the season and fell in love with Canada so she moved into an apartment down the street from him.

She can do this.

Matthew lifts her head up and says, “I’ve got you. Okay? I have you. Whatever you want.”

“I want you,” she tells him. “Please. I need you.”

He moves back on the bed and flips them over so he hovers over her. Her curls create a halo around her head. Matthew thumbs her swollen lips and trails it down over her chin, over her chest, between her breasts, and down her stomach until his fingers rest at the waistband of her panties. Goosebumps follow his fingers down her upper body.

She can feel the bulge in his pants so she bucks her hips up to grind her clothed core against the bulge. “Shit,” he gasps. “You can’t just do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll come before either of us are ready.”

She lets out a light laugh. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” she teases.

“Shut up,” he mumbles before shutting her up himself with a deep kiss. She smiles and hooks her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants.

She pushes his sweatpants down and over his ass. He helps her out and kicks them off.

When she tries to put her hand in his boxers, Matthew stops her. He breaks the kiss and shakes his head. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. I’m going to make sure you feel good and make sure you’re comfortable, okay?” he says to her.

“Okay,” she replies, voice barely above a whisper.

With her permission, Matthew hooks his fingers in the waistband of her panties and slowly pulls the thin fabric off her body. He tosses them to the floor and she lets her knees fall open.

Matthew attaches his lips to her jaw, then slowly trails his lips down her body. He makes a quick stop when he gets to her breasts. He gives each one a little attention and she lets out a soft noise. She bites her lip to keep from making any embarrassing noises.

He lies on his stomach and throws her legs over his broad shoulders. She watches as he presses soft kisses to her leg trailing from her inner knee and up her inner thigh. He stops right before he gets to her core.

“Already so wet for me,” he comments. She nods and grabs a pillow to rest her head on so she doesn’t get a crick in her neck.

That’s when Matthew slides a finger through her soaked folds. A whine passes her lips and she looks down at him with her eyes. He teases her entrance and she gasps, “I- Matthew. Don’t tease please. Do something.”

“Didn’t think you were a begger, pretty girl,” he replies. She shoots him a glare and he laughs.

She’s about to say something to him when he wraps his lips around her clit. “Oh my- fuck” is what comes out of her mouth instead. Matthew hums and sends vibrations through her entire body. He slowly pushes a finger into her and her back arches off the bed.

Matthew’s free hand slides up her body and cups one of her tits. She didn’t pick Matthew to be a boob guy, but today is full of surprises.

Soft pants pass her lips as Matthew keeps using his mouth and fingers to bring her closer to an orgasm. He adds a second finger and her hands fly to his hair. Her breathing has gotten extremely labored and soft noises consistently pass her lips.

He’s so careful with his movements, so precise. He knows what he’s doing, and she’s not at all surprised that he does. She didn’t realize just how much he knew. Despite never actually hooking up before, it’s like he knows her entire body and what she likes.

Once a third finger is inside of her, Matthew curls his fingers in a “come here” motion. She gasps and a knot forms in the pit of her stomach. “Matt,” she groans. “I- Matthew.”

“Let me hear you,” he tells her. “Wanna hear you when you come on my fingers. Can you do do that for me?”

She nods and hums. “Yeah,” she breathes out.

“Go ahead, pretty girl,” Matthew says. “Come for me. I can feel how close you are.”

His lips are back on her clit and she’s coming seconds later.

Her back arches off the mattress as her walls clench around his fingers. Her body turns into jelly as he fingers her through what’s probably the strongest orgasm she’s ever had. She swears she blacks out.

Her breathing is extremely labored as Matthew withdraws his fingers. She whimpers at the loss and watches him crawl up her body when her vision comes back. He smiles when he sees how out of it she probably looks.

Matthew peppers her cheek with soft kisses as she comes to.

“You okay?” he asks. “Can you do one more?”

“Mhm,” she hums. “Want you inside me, Matt. Please. I need you.”

He captures her lips in a soft kiss and she groans when she tastes herself on his lips.

It’s a very quick kiss. Matthew reaches over into his bedside drawer and pulls out a tiny foil package. He puts it between his teeth as he pushes his boxers off his body. She bites her lip as Matthew’s dick pops out of the confines of the boxers.

She accidentally saw his dick one time before now, and it looked nothing like it does right now. “Jesus, Matt,” she gasps. “Is it gonna fit?”

Matthew laughs and slides the condom onto his dick. “I promise it’ll fit,” he tells her.

He hover over her between her legs. The tip of his dick lines up with her entrance and she shakes. Her heart races in her chest and she stares up at the pretty boy above her. “Slow,” she tells him. “Okay? I don’t know-”

“Tell me if you need me to stop or if it hurts,” he interrupts. “I’ll move at your pace, okay? I have you.”

She nods. “Go.”

Matthew slowly pushes into her. She gasps as the unfamiliar stretch and grasps onto his biceps. The deeper he goes, the more it hurts. She pushes through though and pain eventually turns into pleasure.

He moves so slow though that it’s almost painful. She wants him to ruin her but she wants to be able to walk in the morning. Whatever that will look like.

She reaches up and slides her hair into Matthew’s hair. His eyes lock with her as he bottoms out in her. Her lips are pressed in a line. “Okay?” he asks.

With a nod, she says, “I’m okay. Give me a second. You’re fucking big, Matt. Damn.”

He laughs. “That’s not my fault,” he replies. “Most women I hook up with like it.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, asshole,” she retorts. “I said I needed a second.”

Matthew laughs again and she pulls him down into a kiss to shut him up. He licks into her mouth and she groans.

Feeling ready, she rolls her hips. One of Matthew’s hands rests on her waist and he meets her movements.

It’s slow, but it feels good. He slowly but deeply thrusts into her. She moans into Matthew’s mouth and he swallows every noise. Her hands slide from his hair to his back. She gently digs her nails into his skin.

He speeds his movements up a bit and she throws her head back against the pillows. “Fuck,” she gasps. “God. Matt.”

“Okay, baby?” he asks. “Good to keep going?”

She nods. “Like you mean it,” she pants. Matthew’s smile reaches his ears.

Matthew throws one of her legs over his shoulder and is able to move deeper into her at the new angle. She cries out his name and he attaches his lips to her neck. He’s covering her entire body at this point. It’s not only his dick that’s big. Matthew himself is a bigger guy.

He slows his movements but continues to bury his cock in her. The knot forms again in the pit of her stomach.

“Matt, I-”

“Me too,” he interrupts. “This is about you. I’m not gonna come until you come on my cock, pretty girl.”

She feels tears in her eyes as she tries to keep herself from coming. It feels too good and she doesn’t want it to end yet.

Especially since this is probably the first and last time she gets this from Matthew. She wants it to last.

Matthew slides a hand between them and as soon as his fingers find her clit again, she comes.

His name is on her lips as he fucks her through what is definitely the strongest orgasm of her life. Her entire body shudders as she comes. Her vision goes white for a hot second and she completely melts against the mattress beneath her. Her legs fall to the bed.

He comes into the condom before he pulls out of her. They’re both panting messes as he ties off the condom and throws it out. She very lazily crawls under the covers and Matthew joins her.

There’s a comfortable silence between them as they both recover from their highs. She finally gains feeling back in all her extremities and looks over at him.

“Thank you,” she weakly says.

“For?”

“Doing that for me. It was fun. I enjoyed it.”

Matthew sits up in bed and leans back against the headboard just as she went to curl up next to him. “I should’ve said something before we did that,” he admits to her.

She sits up and holds the blankets under her arms to keep herself covered. “What?”

He bites his kiss-bruised bottom lip for a second. “I have feelings for you,” he confesses. “Genuine feelings for you and I feel guilty for saying yes before telling you that.”

A day full of surprises.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same. There is a reason she asked him of all her friends to do this for her. She’s always known he was attractive, a genuine guy and an incredible hockey player.

She’s damn lucky that Matthew agreed to have sex with her.

Matthew looks terrified. She smiles and drops her head to his shoulder. “You should see the look on your face,” she laughs.

“I’m being serious,” he tells her.

“I know,” she replies. Her chin rests on his shoulder. “I like you too. Why do you think I asked you to do this and not someone else?”

He blinks. “I thought you were just tired of being a twenty year old virgin,” he flatly states.

“There was that but I wanted it to be you,” she admits. “I guess I was just shooting my shot.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Matthew laughs.

She crawls onto his lap and lays on him. “When do I get one of those cool jackets the wives and girlfriends have?”

“You want one?”

“I do,” she tells him as she looks up at him. “Is that okay? If I got one?”

Matthew smiles and nods. “I’ll get you one.”

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

wanna be added to the taglist ? fill out this form !

taglist: @dasiysthings @equallyshaw @dancerbailey3 @love4lando @ivy-34

#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey smut #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl smut #matthew knies #matthew knies x reader #matthew knies smut #zegrasdrysdale request

[furuyalover]

Hey bae! Can I request the song Something Stupid by Frank Sinatra, with any of the Haikyuu boys for your music event? - 🫧

somethin’ stupid | mars & her music event

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like 'i love you'"

— ft. iwaizumi hajime

AN: tysm for ur request! this was so much fun to write & ty for joining my event! for any readers int in participating, more info ab it here ! also this is on the longer side so cozy up, & get ready for some iwa fluff

"i know i stand in line, until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me..."

you were at a semi-formal event put on by your school, aoba johsai. despite the amount of people there, the ballroom in which the ball took place had a tranquil atmosphere. seeing your classmates in an elegant manner, looking at some of them and thinking oh wow they clean up nice, it was a rather lovely change of pace. however, only one student in particular really caught your eye. that student, of course, was the one and only, iwaizumi hajime.

he looked radiant. you've really never seen him in anything outside of his school and volleyball uniforms, so he was really a sight for sore eyes. the suit he wore was well-tailored, but you could still make out the defined muscles on his biceps. he was so elegant and well mannered in this setting, and it certainly helped that his best friend sitting next to him was being as obnoxious as usual, making iwaizumi's polished manner even more apparent,

hajime also had his eyes set on someone, you. he only ever sees you at school, in your required uniforms, so he was stricken with adornment when he saw you tonight. he had always admired you, had even a secret crush on you, (which of course was obvious to the whole volleyball team based off how much he mentions you) seeing you dressed so lovely, and looking even more beautiful than usual, how could he not gaze at you like that? but when he saw you being approached by other students, telling you how gorgeous you looked, his insecurities got the best of him. why should i even try? they already have all these other guys romancing them, i wouldn't even stand a chance, he would mumble to himself. oh how little the boy knows..

"i practice everyday to find some clever lines to make the meaning come through. but then i think i'll wait til the evening gets late, and i'm alone with you..."

after talking it over with his best friend who sat beside him, tooru oikawa, he decided to just say screw it and muster up enough courage to talk to you. he & oikawa practiced exactly what he's going to say to you, since tonight will be the night he finally confesses to you. after ensuring that his words will be perfect, he gathers all his confidence to get up, and begin walking to where you're standing & talking to a few classmates.

"the time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue"

he slowly makes his way over to you, being sure that you aren't talking to anyone by the time he approaches you. everything is gonna go perfectly, he'll have the perfect moment to tell what he's been feeling all these months.

after finishing some conversations with friends, out of the corner of your eye you see a familiar face walking towards you. is iwaizumi really coming over here? oh my god this is really happening, shit i hope i look okay. you frantically pat down your hair and clothes, to make sure you hopefully look perfect by the time iwa sees you. when he finally gets to you, you notice something about him is different. he seems more reserved than usual, almost seemingly shy?

"iwaizumi! i didn't know if you were gonna make it today, great to see you!" you say smiling like an idiot. "please, call me hajime. great to see you too, you look stunning." flustered by his affection, you look down smiling to hide your beet red face. hajime is hit with relief because now you hopefully won't see how red he is himself. "hey don't wanna sound weird or anything, but would you wanna step outside with me for a sec? there's something i need to get off my chest." your eyes widened, nervous at what he could possibly have to say. but regardless you nod in agreement as he takes you outside.

the two of you gaze out to the sky, on the balcony just outside the venue of the formal, in partially comfortable partially awkward silence. "so, um, what was it you wanted to say?" you nervously ask to try and break the ever so loud silence. fuck. iwaizumi thought. all his practice with oikawa? yea, that all went out the window because suddenly his mind is going a million miles per minute. he has so many thoughts running through his head, but he just can't seem to find the words, nor the confidence, to voice them. but before you know, the stern and intimidating volleyball player you're used to turns into a rambling mess.

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, 'i love you'..."

"i don't really know how to say this, but fuck it i'll just try" he starts. you take a step back to look at him, a little confused, but waiting to hear the rest. "y/n, i really like, maybe even love you. i don't know, i'm bad with feelings, but i do know that you're all i think about. i never shut up about you, and i think you're the most perfect person put on this earth. i know i'm not oikawa, and that you probably have tons of other guys who want you and i probably sound stupid but i jus-" he stops suddenly when realized that you've wrapped your arms around him and engulfed him in a hug. after hesitantly wrapping his muscular arms around you, he relaxes a bit more, and eases into your touch.

with the side of your face resting on his chest, you look up at him beaming. both of you blushing profusely, but neither of you pay any attention to that. after a moment of just staring at each other, you finally say with a smile "you are kinda stupid hajime, i like you too, maybe even love also. i don't know how you haven't picked up on that yet" this just makes iwaizumi pull you in tighter, it feels like all his dreams had just came true.

"oh my god he finally did it" "god it's about time" oikawa and hanamaki groan to each other. yes they watched this whole thing go down for a comfortable distance, partially to make fun of him but also just to support their close friend from afar

reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

#holy moly i am so in love w iwa #him & this song? yes. #mars & her music! #game time! #haikyuu headcanons #hq headcanons #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu imagines #hq imagines #haikyuu x you #hq x you #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hcs #hajime iwaizumi x reader #hajime iwaizumi fluff #hajime iwaizumi headcanons #haikyuu event #haikyuu #team manager 🫧!

[alivzstuff]

my good looking boy

first fanfic on this app, don't hate me if it's horrendous 😓✋

xo, ali

warnings: child neglect, mentions of abuse, cursing, nausea, body shaming, mentions of starving.

summary: You're the new kid in town, hoping to find a friendship. When you meet the good looking boy that you hope will always be by your side.

I walked out the door, finally wishing I can have a better life than how I had it in Arizona. My mom moved us to Boston, Massachusetts after my dad died, hoping for a new start in life. Maybe find a new husband. She said he died hating this marriage. That I ruined everything. That she wished I wasn't here and that maybe her marriage would have worked fine. No arguments. No hate.

Ever since we moved to Boston, she's been putting on a happy smile. She's been trying to move on. Going to clubs and bars. I heard she found some man at her work place, that they have been hitting it off.

It's been a lonely summer and I finally start school today. My mom gave me the name of the school and told me to walk. I don't have a problem with it, it's just kind of sad walking alone. Seeing the buses and cars.

I made it to the school and immediately see people laughing with their friends. I don't have friends but i'm sure I can make some, I mean it wasn't that hard back at my old school.

I began to walk up the stairs of the most idle staircase. The people in front of me are pretty slow but I really don't care considering we have a good 15 minutes until class.

While stepping up each step, I get pushed by the backpack that's in front of me. Tripping me down to the hands of the person behind me.

"Shit, I'm sorry." I said on the tips of my heels backwards. "Are you okay?" A boys voice spoke to me. I got back on my toes and held onto the railing. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tripped." I spoke to him. I got to the top of the staircase and he grabbed my wrist as I walked away. "Wait, you don't look like you were here last year. Are you new?" He asked looking into my eyes. I paused. His eyes were a light blue and he had some medium length hair. "Yeah, I'm new. This is kind of embarrassing. My first day at a new school and I'm making a fool of myself to the first person I talk to." I laughed quietly. "Well, I don't think you're a fool. You seem like a pretty cool person." He smiled at me. "Thanks, wanna be friends?" I asked him, hoping he says yes. "Sure, why not." He said as he looked down at his phone. "I gotta get going, maybe I'll see you at lunch?" He said while walking away. "Yeah, cya!"

__________

Finally lunch. It's not like I have any money to buy anything but it's nice to get a break. I looked around, trying to find the good looking boy that was with me this morning. "Hey, black haired girl! Over here!" I looked over my shoulder to see the good looking boy calling me over. I walked over to the table he was at, feeling like all eyes were on me.

"Hi" I sighed. "Are you not gonna get lunch? Well it's just because you're thighs look like you ate thirty pounds of cake." The girl next to me spat out. "Alyssa, stop being so mean." The other girl spoke. "You're thighs are perfect. Not that I was looking. I-I just wanted you to know." The good looking boy murmured. "Thanks, I didn't take it in a weird way." I giggled to myself.

"I guess I haven't introduced my friends to you yet. Those two are Debbie and Alyssa. This is Izaiah. Then they're Nate and Madi. Oh and I'm Chris!" Chris.. Alright. "Nice to meet you guys! I'm y/n!" "Cute! Love the name y/n" Madi stated. "Do you want anything to eat? I have a bag of strawberries if you want." Chris whispered over the loud noise of the cafeteria. "I really shouldn't. It's your food plus I'm not that hungry." I whispered back. He put the bag of strawberries in my hand. "Please, I insist. That's what friends are for at the least, right?" He gave off a soft smile. "Right. Thanks." I said whilst hiding my smile. I opened the bag and began munching on the strawberries. I felt happy. I looked to my side, seeing Alyssa roll her eyes at me. Maybe she likes Chris? I don't know. I feel weird for barging into this friendship. The only people I've felt comfortable with were my friends on a phone screen all the way from Arizona to Boston. "Can I have your number considering we are friends and I might need questions to be answered?" Chris asked, pulling out his phone. "Yeah sure it's 602-123-4567." I spoke out. "Thanks. I'll text you so you know it's me." Chris murmured.

_________

"Are you just gonna walk home? It's pretty hot out here." Chris spoke. "Yeah. My house isn't that far away. I live in Lakeview." I said, walking foward. "I live there too! Lets walk together! Let me just tell my brothers that i'm walking instead." He said whilst pulling out his phone. "If you want too. I won't stop you, not one bit." I sighed. Yeah, I like walking alone but he's my first friend in this state so I'll not mind it too much. Wait he has brothers? "You have brothers?" I asked. "Yeah, I live with them and my mom. But my brother, Matt, drives me and Nick, my other brother, to school. Well, that's because he is the only one with a license." Alright, cool. It's not crazy but just cool. I stayed silent. "Do you wanna eat something at my house? It's just- you didn't eat anything at lunch and I wanted to know if you were hungry. My mom would fucking love you. You would also love her food!" He exclaimed. "Okay, I'll go." I said while giggling.

After about 10 minutes, we made it to his house. He unlocked the door and we went inside. "This is where I live. Welcome!" He said very proudly. "Chris honey, is this one of your little friends? Nice to meet you, I'm Mary lou. You can call me Ms. Sturniolo if you want though. Im making dinner and there's always room for one more stomach!" His mom said while stirring the pot. "Thanks, I'm basically starved and can't wait to eat whatever you have in that pot..!" I stated. "Let's go to my room until food is ready." He advised. I placed my shoes and back pack on the floor next to the front door, taking his hand that was pulling me. We ran up the stairs and he opened the door to his room. Purple LED lights, dark green blanket on the bed, a tv, pictures of him and his friends, family photos, empty cans of pepsi, a desk. Just stuff that goes in a room. "Before you meet them, I just want you to know that the two brothers I have are my triplets. So we look alike, but we have our differences. If that makes sense. If you're ever stuck, Matt has a stubble beard, Nick has blonde hair, and I'm the one with ear length hair." He assured. "Cool.. Cool..."

"Did you know me and my brothers have a YouTube channel? We just hit two million subs! I bet you didn't know that about me!" He shouted. "I didn't know that, we should watch it while eating!" I exclaimed.

"Kids, dinner!" His mom shouted. "I'll go get the food, you can stay here of you want. If you don't come I'll just bring your plate up. But you can search up 'sturniolo triplets' and pick whatever video you want to watch..!" He said as he walked out the door. I picked up the remote and went to YouTube on the Roku tv. Sturniolo triplets... There! I wouldn't want to watch a old video.. But I don't want to watch a video that's too recent. Whatever. I can't choose. I'll just ask him what he likes when he gets back.

__

"Took long enough! I was basically falling asleep!" I said as he brung the plate to my thighs. "Well you didn't. Here's your food."

He pulled out two pepsis from the pockets of his gray sweatpants. Outlining his- I need to stop thinking nasty shit. "I brought Pepsi if you wanted to drink something while eating." He said while handing me it. "Thanks. Ya know, I haven't had soda in three years. Forgot the taste." I spoke as I clicked open the can. "Seriously? That's kinda crazy to be honest" "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I couldn't find a video so I would just let you pick any video you want." "Maybe we can just eat and talk?" He murmured. "Sure, that would be nice."

____two months later____

I popped on my airpods and sat on the bench, scrolling through spotify trying to erase the thought that my mom could've had a bad day. But especially, that she would take it out on me. I can't remember the last time I had a good relationship with my mother. I would usually eat at Chris's house when I knew my mom wouldn't feed me. He knows somethings wrong but whenever he asks, I just change the subject. I don't want him to worry about me. He can worry about other things, like grades or if he doesn't understand a question. But he shouldn't worry about anything I have to say. It's lunch time but I'd rather starve than have to look Alyssa in the eyes. Knowing she was judging me every second she got. I wasn't a chubby girl. It's just that everything I ate would go to my thighs. I did have a small stomach. I did have normal arms. I was normal. I at least wanted to be normal.

I hummed to the tune of the song. Closing my eyes and waiting to feel my alarm go off so I could go back to class. I needed the thoughts out my head. I was hungry and I knew it. I had a job over the summer but my mom took my paychecks when they came in the mail saying, "Family shares money. Don't be greedy because boys don't like that." Her voice surrounded my thoughts.

I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I looked over to see Chris. I took off my airpods, staring at him.

"You aren't at the lunch table so I went to go find you. I have a sandwich though. For you." He smiled. "Thanks, this is probably the last thing I'll eat this week!" I said. Knowing it probably was. His smile fell off his face. I looked into his eyes that looked into mine. "Oh- no, I was joking. Don't uhm take that seriously." I awkwardly said, lying through my teeth. He look worried. The last thing I wanted him to look like. We stared into each other's eyes. Neither of us looking away.

I learned in for a hug. My head rested on his shoulder. "Thanks for the sandwich." I whispered in his ear. His hands rubbed my back. I sighed at leaned back to where I was, unraveling the sandwich he gave me and taking a bite. I put one airpod back in my ear, handing him the other one. "Wanna listen?" I said as I chewed. He took the airpod and put it inside his ear as "slow dancing in the dark" by Joji started playing. I looked at the sky while chewing and taking another bite. "I know something is worrying you." He whispered. I look at him while my cheeks were stuffed. I swallowed. "What?" I sighed. "Y/n. I'm your friend. What's bothering you?" He said. I wouldn't tell him. All I was thinking about were those words and 'give me reasons we should be complete'. "Nothing is bothering me. I-I-I'm sorry if I'm making this friendship hard but.. Uhm.. I think I need to go." I gagged out. Whenever I'm nervous I throw up. So I needed to get out of there as soon as possible. I hated throwing up. As I had my airpods in, 'I want you' by mitski played. I knew he could hear it too.

_____

if you want a part two it'll come soon😓✋

sorry of this was dog shit I'm a new writer- I hope you liked it though. Tell me if you wanna be tagged in the next part 🖤

xo, ali

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #y/n #sturniolo x reader

[dykeinthedark]

venting in tags about gender n shit (long as hell) (u can comment and talk 2 me as always :3)

#okay so i got a really masc haircut about a month ago and i know it's just a haircut but holy shit has it changed EVERYTHING for me #like.... i've always leaned masc except 1) before i came out 2) when i was actively in love with someone who i knew liked femmes #and they always described me as a fem. because that's what i showed her. because i wanted to be with her. #but lowkey whenever i'm in a not-impressing-anyone raw-dogging-life-no-crush era i always resort to a very masc style #like masc being my default and i'd only lean fem to impress people whether it's for love or peer pressure in a specific setting #like ''dressing up'' has always been a form of drag to me. like something i HAD to do to fit in or impress my parents (scott favor core) #but ever since this haircut i've realized... i could just BE masc innately like i really don't have to be womanly if i don't want to #which i usually don't. again i have only ever dressed fem for other people. but it's not even being masc that attracts me on its own #it's like. being masc in a distinctly lesbian way. as in whenever i look in the mirror i don't wanna be like a Guy i wanna be a dyke. #like lesbian as a gender identity too sort of thing honestly. okay i've been waffling but basically i sort of want to call myself butch #but i don't know if i like... can?? if i'm allowed to??? #everyone always says it's MORE than just wearing boy clothes and not wearing makeup and having short hair (which i already do all those) #i mean i've always id'd as genderqueer because it literally just means gender weird and i experience gender in a queer way #what's probably the most telling is that my friends (all queer) CALL me a butch lesbian #like every time they do i feel really internally validated. it's not just my clothes but my personality too ig is what people tell me #i have a higher pitched voice relatively speaking but apparently the way i talk is quote ''very clockably into women'' #which?? gender euphoria asf. my best friend specifically he (gay trans guy) always uses butch to describe me very intuitively #people have also noticed that i ''transitioned'' in all aspects except hormonally. like ppl have commented and noticed my masculinzation #but at the same time i always feel rly haunted by my ex relationships because one wanted me to be more masc #(she's the one who came out as straight and would treat me like a man) which i didn't like and i didn't like playing up being fem either #bc now it feels like she (butch) won't believe me if i called myself butch too bc she remembers me being femme #idk i feel like there's her voice in my head all the time that sees everything i do through her eyes (i'm lowkey still in love) #i feel like even though this comes so naturally to me i must be putting on a performance #even though i've actually read stone butch blues and done research into the history and i truly love and id with the culture like i rly do #that im still just a sad imitation of a butch lesbian and can never really be a part of it because i used to enjoy dressing up sometimes #like it's so stupid but can i still be butch if i wore a dress to prom and i think i looked good in it?? #even though i was envious of my friends who wore suits?? that i used to try goth makeup?? that i liked long dresses?? #that i enjoyed stacked necklaces and rings on every finger??? #and tbh ALL OF THAT CAME FROM A CONCIOUS EFFORT TO FEMINIZE MYSELF IN JUNIOR YEAR OF HIGHSCHOOL WHEN I WAS 16 #because omfg it was 2 months before junior prom and i was worried that i was too masc and wanted to get comfortable with being fem

[jerriisspeakingnow]

I need to be stopped and locked in a cell before I actually try to watch Vampire Knight again what am I thinking ??

#rant time! #personal #I’m watching people discussing Vampire Knight on YouTube and I’m DYING #somehow I forgot EVERYTHING #and I have the strong urge to go watch all of it so I can roast it like a marshmallow #(roasting with the nostalgia that I did love this show at one point in my life no real hatred here) #…okay maybe I want an excuse to look at Toga again SUE ME #I loved Kaname as a child but as an adult I know where my loyalties lie #(my loyalties are with Toga and Ichiru) #(I also loved Shiki but I was (and still am) a huge sucker for blue eyes) #(…oh shit that’s where my dark haired/blue eye combo started huh? FUCKIN VAMPIRE KNIGHT) #delete later? delete later #I’m feeling a little insane typing all of this AAAHHHHH

[incorrect-dublin-murder-squad]

Rob: I really do love working here. We all have a lot of laughs.

Rob: Fuck off, O’Neil, I’m not going to your fucking birthday party.

#oh my god #so i've been dying my hair half purple/red and half black for awhile now and i've been using box dye but it's been annoying bc i only use #half of it and you cant save box dye so i decided to order manic panic again because that's in jars so you can save it and i always like the #way it fades #but i didn't want t get the colour i nornally use bc it gets my hair pink when it's blonde but i dont want to wait that long for the red to #fade out so i got this darker purple one. and this is where i made some bad choices #all of the reviews were saying the colour was good but it will stain everything it touches. i figured that im special and that wont happen #to me so i ordered that and this like purpley blac one #turns out #i am not special #first off. within seconds of opening it i managed to drop the little like peel off cover from the purple one on the floor face down #then i went to push my glasses up with the back of my hand and a tiny bit of dye got on it #i literally cleaned it off within like ten sedconds but i think my clear plastic frames might be permanently stained pink #the counter is stained pink where it dripped and sat for probably less than ten seconds #which okay. thgen i rinsed it out and every part of my skin that the water touched after touching my hair is either slightly pink or #slightly blue depending on what colour it was #im pretty sure my ears and permanently stained #ive done a lot of stupid shit while dyeing my hair but this was probably the worst what the fuck #and i still have half the jars so im going to have to do this all again oh my god

[caterpillarinacave]

You wake in the morning your mind made up, there's no point in rushing headlong into these things, you'll stick around where there are free accommodations, at least for a little while, in the meantime you can search the area more and develop a better understanding of your situation, you head to the bathroom to clean up, when you go to untangle your hair you notice the blue from before has disappeared, you pick up the brush from the store and separate out a small amount of hair and run the brush through, it turns blue, you see that the brush is still clean but if you want to brush with it you will end up with a head of colorful hair, interesting, you set aside the brush and go back to cleaning yourself up before heading out to the main place to find the others and let them know of your decision to stay for a while, the older one seems pleased, they get you some spare clothes and finish setting up your space with things to fulfill your basic needs.

Your decision to stay turns from days to weeks to months, at this point you've learned the basics of the language around you, some simple words can be read, and a lot of the mannerisms have become much more familiar, the chirps, you've come to find, are verbal punctuation marks, depending on the chirp they literally vocalize "!!!" or "?", it's pretty cool. Additionally you've developed a deeper and friendlier relationship with both of the homes occupants, the younger one becomes more amicable as you take on some of the chores around the farm, which is what you have come to understand their home is, though the crops and animals are different and the farm methods aren't what you remember from your world, in any case, you help where you can, sometimes you go into town with the others and help with the shopping or other errands, the town is friendly, the area is nice, you've noticed the seasons do change similar to how they would in your world and the autumn turns to winter and leads to spring, though the people here split their seasons into seven distinct sections and their separation of time, like years and months or even days, are confusing, so you don't pay it too much mind, you find that despite wrapping yourself in the clothes and culture of these people you continue to remain yourself, no alterations afflict you, though it has only been some time, you don't think the world changing you physically is a huge thing to worry over anymore, you still check the number of fingers and toes you have each morning anyway, better safe than sorry or at least caught unawares.

You've kept an eye out for any sign of the mentioned key or any other way home, but nothing comes up, even when you manage to ask the older person what they meant before, they admit they really only know what the person who passed through told them, in order to go back to a world when the door closed you needed a key that opened the other side of the door, the person before you had searched this world a long time for that key, but when nothing ever came of it they moved on, before that though they had stayed here which is where the older one had learned some of your language and of your situation.

It's some time in the Spring like season several months in that you are hit with a cleaning bug, the other two went into town earlier so you get to work, while you had already searched the house before for anything that might hint at how you should proceed, you never found anything and the inhabitants themselves had been more useful and you quit looking eventually, imagine your surprise then when you stumble across a journal under a bookcase written in a language you can read, you pause your cleaning immediately and as you consume the book you learn that this was left behind by the person who had come before you, the journal is dated ten years ago and has entries detailing the events of their journey here as well as long discussions on their theories and observations of it all, from the book you learn several valuable pieces of information: there are multiple doorways on this world but they all seem to lead to the same next world although not the exact same place as far as they can tell, the next world is largely unknown but from what they can tell is safe enough in that you can breathe the air, in this world there is a secret organization, or perhaps cult, that studies these doorways but the author is not particularly impressed with them for some unspecified reason, the doors close automatically and cannot be kept open by any means, no going back without the Backwards Key or more specifically the black side key unless someone else opens the door from the other side, interestingly anything that passes through the door has a chance of developing a magic of its own which the writer is confused by (they brought over a bottle that now never runs out of water and a bag that replicates whatever gets put in it, the science behind this is discussed in depth for many pages but just gets chalked up to magic), they think that the doors open to alternate universes rather than across space to other planets but they aren't sure, the plan they chose to follow was to start going forwards through the doors and hunting for one of the keys to the black side then head back and go home, you don't think the plan panned out, this journal has given you more information to work with and much to think about but ultimately still leaves you with not much in the way of choices.

This set up is peaceful, the longer you stay the more parallels you find with your own world and despite missing loved ones from your old life the stability of this new one has begun to lull you into a sense of security, going forward could mean starting over, seeking out the secret organization could spell trouble, just travelling further than this town on your own would certainly be a hassle, staying here and continuing to learn about this world offers an opportunity of safety but you definitely don't see a future in which you reach home this way, do you choose to continue living as you have been?

No

#OKAY OKAY OKAY I’m sorry I took so long to answer #Here’s the deal: I’m not just hopping back through that door #Seems like a bad idea. Cult on the other side sounds like a worse idea. #If it all comes down to “travel to next world with the current information” or “stay here forever” I might stay here forever #Hell I might stay here forever even if I could get back- but boy do I want the option #First things first: write everything down. Everything that es happensed so far #Write it twice actually if not a few more. One to leave in the hut and one to leave near the door #Write not just everything that’s happened but translations for this worlds inhabitants language how society seems to function ectect #The thing is while going through the door isn’t a great idea the leads aren’t dead here #Traveling hella far probs isn’t a great idea either. However a few things are interesting #1. The hairbrush: why is it turning my hair blue? Why does it go away? Why is it a brush from my world? #2. The walkie. There’s a downright decent chance it will never really work but I’ll try anyway. Leave it on all the time just in case #3What’s up with the berries? Do all berries in this world taste like this? Is it just ones by the door? #4. The other stuff found in the brambles- can I piece anything. About it together? Have they been dropped by other people? #So I do doubt staying here will get me a WAY home #but I might be able to determine other things. Like while I might not be able to get “home” I might now how conceptually I could #So I’m still not super sure what to do. It’s great I have the safe haven. #In terms of actual actions I’m going back to visit the door. I’ll bring a copy of what I’ve written to leave by the door incase someone- #stumbles through. I’ll try the berries by the door and ones further away (since nothing seems harmful ti me here yet I’ll assume they won’t #be poisonous. YOLO I guess.) Then try the walkie nearer to the door #it might be worth it to open the door but not go through. Since I’ve opened it twice before and only walked through once I know you can ope #it see the next world and close it. You won’t pass through unless you walk through. I wonder if I could try the walkie with the door open #or even throw a letter or some sort of communication through. See if it’s possible to hear a response or establish communication? #worth a shot because now I have free time and curiously #yes no anon #guys I got lost in a black berry bush

[buckyalpine]

CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)

Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering. 

-

Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard. 

You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting. 

“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-

“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?” 

“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off. 

“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark. 

Which was a mess in itself. 

You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour. 

“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now. 

You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more. 

“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair. 

“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you. 

“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.

“Y/n” 

You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks. 

“Y/n” 

Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself. 

“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues. 

“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day. 

In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week. 

Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault. 

He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning. 

You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness. 

You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out. 

“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you” 

“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze. 

“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you” 

“I shouldn’t have messed u-

“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips. 

“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.

“What did you miss” 

“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?” 

“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch. 

You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips. 

“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off. 

“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection. 

“Please what, sweets” 

“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out. 

“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds. 

“Sir, pleasee” 

“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”

He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing. 

“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream” 

“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait. 

“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me” 

Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel. 

“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you. 

“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again. 

“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE

“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls. 

“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings. 

“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed. 

“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand. 

“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl” 

#bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x you #bucky x smut #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x fluff #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #ceo bucky #ceo!bucky #ceo bucky barnes #ceo bucky smut #ceo bucky barnes smut #ceo bucky x secretary reader #bucky x secretary #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fan fic #bucky barnes fanfiction

[nerdpoe]

Put That Thing Back Where it Came From or So Help Me-

Constantine was pacing back and forth in the waiting room, hands flying as he went over the rules of dealing with Infinite Realm Nobility for the eighteenth time.

Bruce tried to pay attention, really. But he'd already memorized this speech of the Laughing Magicians, and all there was really left to do was wait for their turn to meet the High King.

A flash of movement caught Bruce's attention, and he found his eyes drawn to a completely human teenager meandering his way from one of the side doors and towards the refrigerator stocked with "mortal friendly snacks".

Bruce kept quiet as he heard the teen muttering to himself about "aw yeah fuck yeah fiji water fuck yes", and let Constantine drone on and on about how they were probably the first mortals the King had ever met.

The teenager behind the ranting man stocked his arms full of Fiji water, chips, and cosmic brownies.

Then the Teen turned and realized Bruce was watching him.

Bruce shook his head minutely.

The teen slowly turned back to the fridge and put everything but the Fiji water back. That and the cosmic brownie.

Cautious blue eyes met his, and the kid raised an eyebrow.

Bruce scowled.

The brownie was quickly replaced with a banana.

Bruce gave a slight nod and looked away.

The teen darted back through the side door.

He didn't know who the kid was, but eating healthy was important. And, okay, maybe his own experience with kids had shoved its way to the front of his brain and taken over.

At least the random teenager in the Land of the Dead would have a healthy snack.

Two more minutes passed before the small entourage was allowed into the antechamber.

A glowing, floating boy was hovering just above the throne. White hair, glowing green eyes, a crown that looked like it was made of shattered pieces of space glittering above his head-and a poorly hidden half empty bottle of Fiji water peeking out at them from behind the throne, kept company by a single banana.

...Huh.

He had either told the Kings servant what to feed the King, or...

"Welcome to the Infinite Realms, I am Phantom, High King. For what reason do you seek an audience?"

Oh. Nope, nevermind on the servant theory. That was the kids voice.

Bruce had directly told the King of an entire dimension what he could and could not eat.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #story prompt #phanfic #ficlet #idk had an idea dunno where it'd go #it anyone wants to finish it ur welcome to it

[artemismoorea03]

DPxDC Prompt: Who's Child Is This?

Inspired by an ICarly Clip. "Mr. Wayne, we have your son here."

Bruce blinked, then checked the number on the phone. It was from the police station. He then looked around the table which had fallen silent when Alfred had brought him the phone.

Dick, Jason, Tim, Duke, and Damian were all accounted for. Even Jon was there so they couldn't have misidentified him as his kid.

"Which one?" Bruce chose to ask.

"Tim Drake."

Bruce looked at Tim specifically as he tilted his head confused. "Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah, Mr. Wayne, we know your boys by now."

"Right... alright, I'll be there in a couple of minutes. Can I ask on why Tim has been taken into custody?"

Tim tilted his head even further while some of the others around the table started chuckling.

"He was found trespassing near the new Axion Labs at the edge of the city. The owner chose not to press charges so we're sending him home in your custody."

"I see, I'll be there soon. Thank you for the call."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne, we'll see you soon."

Bruce ended the call then looked at his kids. "Apparently, Tim has been arrested for trespassing near the Axion Labs construction site."

"And you didn't even invite me?" Dick chuckled at Tim, "We could have had so much fun together."

Tim scrunched his nose at the idea. "No way, that whole area is an OSHA violation. If I went there it wouldn't be out of costume, whoever that kid is was risking his life just walking within a block of it."

"Well, I'm going to go down there and see what 'Tim' was thinking." Bruce got out of his seat, "I'll be back soon."

"New brother?" Cass asked as Damian growled.

"We're going to assume no for now, but we may have another for dinner depending on what's going on."

"I will prepare another seat while you are gone, Master Bruce."

"Thanks, Alfred. I'll be back soon."

-

When Bruce walked into the police station he immediately noticed 'Tim' sitting in front of one of the officers desks. It was a newer officer and it was clear that neither Detective Montoya or Commissioner Gordon were in or somebody would have noticed that this kid definitely wasn't Tim.

Yes, the kid had black hair which was on the shorter side but his hair fell in front of his face more than Tim would wear it, and his eyes were unnaturally blue. He was pale in an old hoodie, blue jeans, and red shoes. The biggest difference though was that this kid looked like he was only pushing 15, not 17. Yes, he looked quite a bit like Tim but anybody who had spent more than five minutes with Tim Drake would know they weren't the same person.

"Mr. Wayne." The officer called as Bruce walked over, looking at the kid.

He was thin and pale, which a tired look on his face. He also shrunk away from Bruce when he walked over.

Bruce knew what a kid in trouble looked like. So he smiled down at the kid. "You know, Tim, when I said you could go to the lab to do your science homework I didn't expect you to go all the way to Axion Labs."

The kid looked at him, surprised then seemed to quickly catch on. "What can I say, I had to see what terrible science looked like. Sorry for making you come down here."

"It's fine, but are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, totally." He said, his hand subconsciously moving to his ribs as though he was hurt.

"Alright then you are grounded."

"What?!" 'Tim' squeaked, "Come on-"

"Nope. You are ground... for... 'til... college."

"FOR 'TIL COLLEGE?!"

"For 'til college!"

The officer cleared his throat then held out a clipboard. "If you sign the red x's you can take your son and leave, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce took the papers, quickly looking over it and signing it. It was strange to see that all of the handwriting on the paperwork was adult writing. Had they even asked this kid his name? Once everything was signed he passed it back over to the officer who nodded.

"Looks good. Thanks Mr. Wayne and you stay out of trouble. The whole city knows your face. You're just lucky Mr. Masters didn't want to press charges."

"Yeah, so lucky." The kid rolled his eyes, then stood up and looked up at Bruce. "Can we go now?"

"Sure thing, chum. Come on." Bruce said, leading the kid out of the station and to the car. The kid seemed hesitant as he looked around, his eyes narrowing when they landed on a gentlemen with silver hair in a ponytail, only when the man smiled at 'Tim' did the kid speak up again.

"Come on, Dad, let's get out of here before the stalkers find us." He said, climbing in the front seat and closing the door, much to the annoyance of the silver haired man.

Bruce climbed in the front seat, buckling in and driving away from the station. "So... 'not Tim' what's your name?"

"Danny. Just Danny... sorry about all of that Mr. Wayne. That guy took one look at me and started calling me 'Tim' and when I tried to explain that I wasn't 'Tim' hey called me a liar. But if I gave them my real name then... somebody else was going to come collect me and I didn't want that. So... I let them call me Tim. I'm sorry, I hope it didn't put you out..."

"Not at all. But... are you okay? Why were you at Axion Labs?"

Danny seemed hesitant, "I... it sounds crazy."

"It's Gotham, kid. Crazy things happen all the time..."

"Right... well um... I-I was kidnapped from my home and taken to Axion Labs. I-I escaped and when I was trying to leave the grounds the police saw me and thought I was trespassing. Since the cops were I decided to play along with it..."

Bruce frowned, "Kidnapped? Is... is there somebody I can call?"

Danny shook his head. "I have an older sister who is probably going crazy looking for me but other than her and a couple of friends there wouldn't be anybody. My parents... they were kind of involved. They... they found out something about me and tried to hurt me, I ran to somebody I knew I couldn't trust because I thought maybe he would get his head out of his ass but I was just being an idiot." Danny hugged himself. "You can drop me off anywhere though, you don't have to bother yourself with me or my shit."

Bruce pulled to a stoplight and reached over to the kid who flinched, Bruce waited until he relaxed before Bruce patted his head. "I'm not going to just leave you on the street. Besides, it's late and by now my butler has already dished you some dinner. So at least for tonight you're welcome to stay with me and my kids. We'll get some food in your belly, make sure you're not wounded, let you call your sister, and find a way to get you home. Sound good?" He asked, moving his hand away.

Danny looked at Bruce, seeming a bit untrusting for a moment before he glanced at something near Bruce and relaxed. There was nothing with Bruce, he wasn't carrying anything, but whatever Danny was seeing was enough to put his mind at ease. "Okay... but if anybody tries anything be warned, I bite."

Bruce chuckled, "So do most of the others. You'll fit right in."

'But just what the hell is going on with this kid? Does it have anything to do with that man outside the police station? I've got to get to the bottom of this before this kid leaves, especially if he's still a target.'

#dp x dc prompt #my prompts #maddie and jack didn't take the news well #Vlad got controlling when Danny showed up #Danny just needs a nap #he's just a lil guy #he's never done nothing wrong his entire life

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️ #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #thg finnick #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #sam claflin #hunger games #odesta

[januaryembrs]

CROSS MY HEART | Spencer Reid x wife!Reader

Request: read here

description: Spencer's wife struggles with the aftermath of JJ's confession

length: 1.5k

warnings: JJ's 14x15 confession spoilers (big ick, pull yourself together Jennifer) infidelity, thoughts of worthlessness, reader thinks Spencer is going to leave her for JJ.

authors note: I have loved JJ for all of fourteen seasons and fourteen episodes. this was a BIG ICK for me watching this won't lie

She should have known something was wrong the minute they left that damn store. 

It took her all of two seconds to throw herself into her husband’s arms, her voice choked with tears that had threatened to spill when she’d seen the video of Casey shooting at him, and she swore Spencer had never grabbed her so tight. 

“I thought you,” She sniffled, running her fingers through the back of his scalp, the entire spanse of his huge hands ran along her spine, counting every vertebra to make sure she was still intact, despite the fact he had been the one held hostage, “I thought he’d shot you- it came so close,” 

He hushed her mewls, a hand reaching to the back of her head and tucked her into his neck further, the sob rattling through her ribcage almost, almost, taking his mind entirely off what JJ had said in that stupid game of truth or dare. 

What the fuck did she mean she had always loved him? She had a husband and children who doted on her; Will, who loved every shred of her being like it was his only purpose in the world. His godsons who had known him as uncle Spencer since he’d held them in the hospital, covered in goop and looking like the cutest little aliens he’d ever seen. 

And yet JJ, his friend, perhaps one of his longest friends, was willing to throw it away for him? He, who had a wife he adored more than there were birds in the wind, leaves on an Autumn floor, more than there were galaxies in the damn cosmos. His wife, who had been there for him since the moment they’d met, who he’d known was the one since that first day she’d ran into him in the lobby, their files mixing together because neither of them had been watching where they were going, like one of those romcoms she forced him to watch and he pretended to hate, or like the silly thing she called fate that she insisted was very much real. 

Spencer was a man of statistics and numbers and facts; things he could see. But he was sure there was nothing in any textbook that could have ever made sense of how the one person so perfectly created for him, the blob of cells that made up his wife that seemed to call to his own as if they were coming home to one another, would have just so happened to bump into him on a random Tuesday in August. 

Most people waited decades for that kind of love, or something close, and he’d managed to get it at the ripe age of thirty three. 

And yet in the space of ten seconds, of four little words in a wretched game, he felt like the carpet had been pulled from beneath him. Because why would JJ, who saw as clearly as anyone else how much he cherished his wife and the future they were planning together, try to take that away from him?

And as if his own odd spiral of thoughts wasn’t a kick to the gut enough, his sweet wife had quickly released him from her grasp and thrown herself at JJ, who seemed to just now be understanding the gravity of her words as she looked around with wide eyes, tear stains wetting her cheeks, the guilt gnawing in her gut already. 

“JJ! Are you okay? Oh, you poor thing, you must have been so scared,” She sobbed, wrapping her friend in a loving hug that was shakily reciprocated, like JJ was waiting for the second she would get a fat shiner to the nose for confessing such a thing. 

But that never happened. Instead, she pulled away from the frozen blonde woman, who looked like she could burst into tears then and there and apologise for everything until her face turned blue, and ran a kind hand over the JJ's hair, stroking it behind her ear tenderly as she tried to quell her cries because she wasn't the one who had been held at gunpoint. 

She didn’t know. It hit them both at the same time. She didn’t know what JJ had said, hadn’t even got an inkling into what had happened, and god did it make the sinking feeling in Spencer’s chest swallow itself up into something the size of the Mariana Trench. 

And what was left, what had for a second been a horrid mix of confusion, shock, fear and then another big dollop of confusion for good measure, quickly was dragged away by the current and replaced with anger. 

Anger that JJ could do something like this to his wife; he frankly didn’t care how her words had affected him, that if he had been single he would have been left feeling unworthy of her affection the first time it had been offered around, like there was something so disgustingly wrong with him this was what it took for her to say anything. He didn’t care about any of that. He cared that this would absolutely destroy his wife. 

And it was for that reason Spencer hurried the paramedics into fixing the small graze on his palm as he watched with boiling blood his wife tend to JJ like she would any other time her close friend was hurt in the field. He seethed whenever Jennifer would simper and avoid her friend's eyes, how his beautiful, caring, devoted wife would stroke the woman’s back and will her to talk, to tell her what to do to make it better.

Because it was her who should be fussing over his sweet wife, certainly not the other way around. 

But he couldn’t say that, not there at least, and so he didn’t, not until he had got the greenlight from the medics to leave and he had all but cut off the circulation in her fingers with how tight he’d held her hand as he led her to the car. 

Spencer said nothing, not wanting to fight when she forced him to sit shotgun as she climbed behind the wheel, not wanting to cause a commotion when there was a much bigger bombshell he was sitting on that he knew would change her feelings entirely. 

-

“What?” Her voice was soft still, a murmur in the quiet night air of their bedroom. She sat, fresh faced, minty breathed, kevlar vest long gone and replaced with one of his old Dr Who shirts and comfy bottoms.

She said the word again, like she hadn’t heard him, but judging by the way her expression had fallen into something dejected, he knew that wasn’t the case. 

Sighing, drawing gentle motions up and down her legs with his warm hands, shuffled closer where he kneeled down in front of her submittingly. “JJ said that she has always loved me; that was her ‘truth’ in the game,”

“Well, she-she was lying right?” His wife said quickly, her voice shaking, trying to make sense of it herself. She didn’t get an answer right away, just her husband’s eyes casting down as he tried to think of the best thing to say, “Right, Spencer?” 

“I don’t know,” He said earnestly, and he saw immediately the way tears sprung to her eyes, her bottom lip trembling, her face warming in wet-anger, “But it doesn’t change anything, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter, to me- baby, please don’t cry,”

“Ofcourse it changes things, Spencer, it’s JJ. She’s literally the hottest woman to walk the earth, Pen said you were like in love with her when you started the BAU, and now you have your chance,” She whimpered, fat tears rolling over her freshly moisturised cheeks, and he swore he felt his chest concave at her words. 

“My chance? I don’t want a chance, I want you,” Spencer said in earnest, his hands rubbing further and further up her legs until his hands went under her night shirt, grabbing onto the soft of her hips with pleading tenderness, “I want you forever, no matter what JJ or any other woman feels about me,” 

She sniffled pitifully, her eyes still unsure and he took it as a sign she needed more, so he leaned in fully to hug her to him. 

“But it’s JJ,” She said again, like that was going to change anything, and he shook his head, stroking over the back of her hair softly.

“I don't care,” He said, and she sniffed gently into the crook of his neck, his skin wetting with the contact. She finally wrapped her arms around him, and he knew he was close to getting it through to her, “I had the smallest crush on JJ, what, fifteen years ago? Honey, I want you for the rest of my life, and nothing and no one is going to change my mind about that, not even you.” 

“Really?” His sweet wife whispered tearfully, and he chuckled sadly, hating how hard she had cried that it had ripped the life from her voice. 

“Cross my heart,” He kissed her hairline softly, tipping her head upwards with one long, warm finger under her chin, pressing a gentle kiss to her wetted lips, “Hope I never die,”

She smiled sorrowfully, kissing her husband as if it was the last time she could ever do so, hoping it made up for how puffy and ugly her tears had made her face. But he didn’t care, he never had, he thought she was perfect just the way she was.

And he’d remind her of that any time she thought otherwise. 

–

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #matthew grey gubler x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic