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forever-rogue · 2 months

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it's easy fallin' in love with you

AN | Nothing much to see here, just the night you meet Steve Harrington and fall in love. 💕

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That guy’s been staring at you all night,” Allie nudged your arm and subtly nodded her head across the crowded bar. You tried to inconspicuously follow her gaze and found yourself looking at the very man that had caught your eye from the moment you’d arrived, “he’s totally checking you out.”

“He’s cute,” you whispered into her ear. She looked him over and tutted slightly, “don’t be like that!”

“He’s fine,” she offered you a wolfish smile, “but he’s totally your type. Go and talk to him!”

“I shouldn’t,” you insisted softly, although you really wanted to. The boy - man - was tall and lithe with golden sun kissed skin and a glorious head of hair. He was handsome in a traditional, yet untraditional way, and well dressed to boot. You could see that his eyes, even from a distance, were a pretty honey brown. When he caught you looking at him, he raised his hand in a small little half wave before offering a lopsided grin, “I really shouldn’t.”

“You really should,” she insisted, nudging you in his direction, “whats the worst that could happen?”

“He could break my heart,” you whispered, starting at your shoes on the sticky bar floor, “it’s stupid. He probably really can’t even see me properly. He’d be disappointed so why bother, you know?”

“Hi,” you froze at the sound of the voice and turned your gaze up to the pretty boy. He was smiling prettily, all teeth and plush lips. Your heart started to pound in your chest, as you opened and closed your mouth a few times, staring at him wordlessly, “I’m Steve.”

“Hi Steve,” Allie wrapped her arm around your shoulders and grinned widely at him. She offered him your name as you felt your entire face warming up, “my lovely friend here has been talking about you all night. She thinks you’re super cute.”

“Allie,” you hissed sharply as you came to your senses. You were going to kill her at the first opportunity you had, “stop.”

“Love you,” she whispered softly with a kiss to your cheek as she pushed you towards him, “I’ve gotta go. Buh-bye!”

You watched her go with a helpless expression, fully aware that Steve was watching you intently. Sighing softly you looked back at him, “sorry about her, she’s…a lot.”

“No worries,” he had such an easy going manner about him, “if it’s easy consolation, I think you’re super cute too.”

“Oh, I-I…” you weren’t even sure what to say or do. It had been a long time since anyone had caught your eye and even longer since someone had so openly shown you so much interest, “do you…want to grab a drink?”

“Yeah,” he agreed easily, “I do.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you were in a small, cozy booth towards the back of the bar, the lights low and only the smallest bit of space between the two of you. When you’d grabbed your drinks, he’d easily guessed your drink of choice and had beaten you to paying. Since then, you’d been engrossed in conversation, your drinks half consumed but long forgotten.

In the past you’d need a large number of drinks in order to make through almost any date, but you didn’t feel like that was necessary with Steve. He was so easy to talk to and get along with that it was almost scary. But you found yourself so drawn to him that it felt like you’d been destined to meet each other. You had never really believed in any of that before, but you weren’t going to question it either - not tonight, not when everything felt so good and so right.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked after a while, catching you off guard. You raised an eyebrow, not entirely against the idea.

“Now? This late?” you asked and he laughed - a warm, pretty sound that made your heart beat a little faster, “what are we going to do?”

This was the point where you half expected him to suggest going back to his place. One night stands weren’t really your thing; part of you was already sad to let him down. He might have sensed what you were thinking and feeling because he quickly shook his head, “no - no. Not that. I don’t want-”

“Oh,”

“No, I mean I do,” he groaned as he ran his hands through his thick, luscious hair, “respectfully I do and would absolutely do that, but I have something different in mind.”

You were giggling now, a pretty sound that Steve thoroughly enjoyed. You grabbed your drink and finished off the rest before leaning closer towards him, “what did you have in mind then?”

“Have you ever done karaoke before?” he had a mischievous look on his face as your mouth dropped open. That was definitely not on your bingo card for the evening; then again, neither had meeting Steve.

“Surprisingly not,” you sat back and shook your head in amusement, “are we going to do karaoke, Steve?”

“We’re going to do karaoke. What do you say?” You slid out of the booth and held out your hand to him, motioning your head towards the door.

“Don’t make me regret this,” but you already knew that you were going to enjoy this night. He was staring at you as though you had hung the stars and the moon.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

An hour later your sides were sore from laughing too much and your face hurt from smiling too much. The two of you had just done a round of loud, fun karaoke, picking the worst possible songs for both of your voices. But none of that mattered - you were having too much fun to think about anything else. Plus, everyone around you was either also taking part of the bad karaoke or a few drinks in and couldn’t tell the difference between actual talent and the worst thing they’d ever heard.

Steve had helped you off the stage, his frame warm around yours. He looked at you, sweaty and tousled but still wickedly handsome. It was hard to hear over the thump of the music and the half-drunk singing in the background so you leaned into his space, “that was so much fun.”

You took advantage of the moment and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His cheeks flushed even redder than before, “have you ever gone to the beach at midnight?”

“No,” your eyes grew wide as he started towards the exit, taking your hand in his, “Steve. Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” he insisted in a way that made you feel warm and hopeful but also so alive. You nodded eagerly and let him take the lead, pulling you through the thick throng of people and back into the chill of the evening air. As soon as he noticed you shivering slightly, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, “that should be better.”

“Thank you,” you grinned at him. It wasn’t like you to just go with a man you’d just met and do all of these things with them. But this wasn’t just any sort of ordinary night and Steve didn’t feel like any sort of guy, “let’s go to the beach then!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you got there, it was late and it was peaceful and there weren’t many people out. The beaches of Chicago weren’t a huge attraction this late at night. You walked around the waterline and he playfully threatened to throw you into the water, and pretended to run away from him. The ease with which the two of you got along was magical. Eventually, the two of you found a spot in the sand and sat in peaceful, contemplative silence.

“I’ve never really watched a sunrise like this before,” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder. The two of you were sitting in the sand, feet buried, as you watched the sun slowly start to rise in the distance. The sun was turning from inky blues to pretty pinks and purples and eventually to gold and orange, “it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, reaching for your hand and taking it in his, and giving it a gentle squeeze, “it is. I like coming out here sometimes because it’s so quiet and peaceful. Almost no one else is awake.”

“As much as I like sleeping in, I could get used to this sometimes,” you stifled a yawn as you watched the waves gently lap and break in the distance. You felt your tummy rumble, and a brilliant idea popped up in your mind, “do you want to get breakfast?”

This time it was his turn to look at you in surprise, the corners of his mouth perking up in a small smile, “starving. What’d you have in mind?”

“There’s this little hole in the wall diner that I love. They’ve got the best pancakes and eggs in the city easily and its one of those secrets you have to share with people,” you felt silly getting so excited about food, diner food at that, but judging from the look on Steve’s face, you had nothing to worry about, “and I would love to let you in on this well kept secret.”

“Consider me intrigued, hungry, and honored,” there was a wickedly happy glint in his eye as he slowly stood up and brushed the sand bits off himself. Helped you to your feet and proceeded to dust you off without you even asking or anything. That little bit made your heart practically flutter with happiness, “just give me directions and we’re on the way, baby.”

You looked at him, all sleepy and starry eyed with a saccharine smile, “I like you, Steve Harrington. It feels like I’ve known you my entire life.”

“I like you too,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing a pretty pastel pink, “I feel like you’ve always been here.”

The two of you looked at each other for a few moments before he gently took your face in his hands and kissed you, slow and deep. You liked kissing him; it felt familiar and new all at once. Plus, you know, he was an excellent kisser which didn’t hurt anything.

“If that’s how you feel about me now,” you teased when he pulled away, shy and bashful, “wait until try the pancakes - you’ll love me then.”

“I believe you,” and you believed in what he was saying, “let’s go!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“So?” you asked in between bites of sweet, delicious fluffy pancakes, “what do you think?”

Steve had just stuffed a huge bite into his own mouth but made a small sound of content. You eaned back in your seat with a small, satisfied expression on your face. It was still early in the morning and there were only a few customers in the diner besides the two of you. The waitress had been loud, cheery, and kind and made you feel so at home and comfortable.

“Delicious,” he agreed as he swallowed the bite, “you definitely weren’t lying.”

“That’s one thing I don’t do,” you promised, “I don’t lie.”

“Tell me more,” he took a sip of the coffee and looked at you eagerly, “tell me everything about you. I want to know everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” he confirmed, “I want to know it all.”

“How much time you got?” you were joking, but you knew that he was sincere in his questioning.

“For you? All the time in the world,” his smile was winning, big and pretty and you wanted to see it for the rest of your days.

Was it possible to be in love with the man that had been a total stranger at the start of evening? Because you were pretty sure that had just happened.

“Okay,” you bit the inside of your cheek to keep the smile from breaking your face, “only if you promise to tell me everything about you.”

“Deal.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What are you thinking about, huh?” Steve came back into the living room, two mugs of hot chocolate in hands, topped off with mini marshmallows. He set them on the coffee table before sitting back down next to you. You leaned into him and leaned your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you.

“Nothing much,” you whispered softly, turning your head to press a kiss to his cheek, “just thinking about the night we met.”

He chuckled fondly, giving you a small squeeze, “it feels like it was just yesterday sometimes. Other times it felt like it was a hundred years. That was a good night.”

“Yeah, it really was,” you agreed, “good thing Allie was so…loud and obnoxious or we might have ever met.”

“Maybe not that night,” Steve shifted so he could properly look at you, “but we’d have met one way or another. I’m sure of that.”

“Yeah?” your smile stretched across your entire face as you beamed at him. He gently put his hands on the side of your face, brushing his thumb gently over your cheek. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, “I’m so in love with you, Steve Harrington.”

“And I’m so in-”

“Daddy,” you heard the sound of her small, soft voice before you heard her small footsteps or saw her come into view, “Mama.”

“Hey Busy Miss Lizzy,” you held out your arms to her and she padded her way over, clutching onto her favorite stuffed dog, “what are you doing up, baby?”

She clambered her way onto the couch, and made herself comfortable in Steve’s lap, “I couldn’t sleep. I had a bad dream.”

In her little voice it sounded more like a bad dweam, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to laugh. You stroked her chubby little sweet as Steve kissed the top of her curls, “do you want to stay with us for a little bit?”

“Yes,” she looked between you and Steve with a hopeful little look, “please.”

“C’mon,” you grabbed the blanket at the end of the couch and draped it over the three of you, “that’s better. You two comfy?”

“Mhmm,” Steve hummed in content, happy to be surrounded by his favorite girls, “perfect.”

“Me too,” Lizzy grinned happily, displaying her little gap toothed grin, “can I have some hot chocolate?”

You exchanged a look with Steve before laughing softly.

You hadn’t imagined any of this the night you’d met him entirely by chance. But, you wouldn’t have changed a thing.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #joe keery #st

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bluemusickid · 2 months

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Private Chef! Joel thots

ok so I've had this idea lingering for a while now, and the SAG outfit has just FUELLEDDD more of my thots!!!

Side note: (He has never looked sexier, how dare he age this well; how am I supposed to go on with my life; this is absolutely not fair)

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!plus size! reader

Warnings: smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller, 18+ only, minors DNI

Sharing a smallish drabble/thotty abstract, if you will:

Ok, so maybe Joel has joined your family as your private chef. After all, your parents are SUPER rich, so they might as well look and feel the part.

You had to admit, he was worth every penny your mother was paying him. Not to mention he was easy going on the eyes, which made your mother glad; she would parade him around her lavish parties to the "cougars"/bored rich housewives, something which made your eyes roll.

Little did they know that the ever so charming Joel was a FREAK with a capital "F" in the sack.

You honestly don't even remember how it happened. A few conversations here and there, he had offered to teach you how to cook and bake; and those lessons were often plagued by thoughts of him bending you over and having his way with you, leaving you throbbing and wanting. If you didn't know any better, you could tell that it was affecting him too. His voice got huskier, eyes darkening every time he looked your way. It was a game of chicken, almost, how long either of you could keep the distance before the inevitable damn bursting.

You had once gone to "ask" him "a cooking doubt", and saw quite a sight indeed. Gone was the prim and proper Joel, with his neatly ironed and clean apron and immaculate dress shirts. His curly hair was mussed up, his shirt slightly untucked and his top buttons undone; he seemed to be engrossed in a video, hie eyebrows scrunched together as his fingers kneaded some dough, prepping for tomorrow's party. It was honestly like porn, the way his strong arms kneaded the dough, his thick fingers making you nearly drool. It took all your strength to walk away from there before you embarrassed yourself and begged him to throw you to the ground and pound you into the ground, no matter how desperate that sounded.

And it had happened finally. Another one of your parents' shindigs, and you found yourself bored out of your mind, only half listening to one of your mom's friend's son, whose one semester in London had "like, totally changed his life." Excusing yourself, you made your way to the kitchen, topping off your drink.

You saw him there, again, making small talk with Angela, one of your mom's friends who just wouldn't take a hint. You'd never seen Joel this tense and yet Angela seemed oblivious, throwing herself at him, her screeching laugh loud enough to wake the dead.

You took pity on the man and made up an excuse on his behalf, beckoning him to join you, picking up a few wedges of limes on the way, an idea forming in your mind. He bid Angela goodbye, hurriedly following you before she engaged any further.

"...Whyyy are we going to your room?" He asked bewildered, hesistant as he stood at the threshold.

You shrugged, "figured you could use a proper drink, not the shit downstairs." Taking out two shotglasses, you handed him a rather large shot of Hendricks, your drink of choice to get "classy-drunk".

You toast, downing the smooth liquid as it left a slight burn. Wincing, you pour another, his eyes widening at the pour.

"I'm technically on duty."

"And i'm technically meant to like all the guys my mom has shown me, but life doesn't work that way, does it?" You quipped, clearly goading him.

One shot turned to two. Two to four. The party was long forgotten, the both of you pleasantly tipsy and unguarded. For the first time, it felt like Joel was opening up to you.

"If I didn't know any better, i'd say you were planning on getting me drunk, sweetheart." He drawled.

You smirked. Making your way towards him, you poured another shot, promising him it that it was the last one, and that he could go back to his job. He chuckled, knowing that he would a tough time walking to the kitchen, let alone serving the guests. Lucky that the crew took over for the rest of the night, huh?

Wincing, Joel blindly searched for the wedge of lime to soothe the burn. Opening his eyes, he saw your cheeky grin as you held the lime between your lips, challenging him to take the next step.

He nearly growled as he shuffled closer, your faces mere inches from one another. His fingers ghosted over your lips as he inched closer, his lips tasting the juice of the lime. Plucking the wedge from your lips, his mouth was on yours, urging you to open up for him. You groaned, tasting the citrusy hints of the gin along with the slight tang of the lime, your tongues weaving an intricate dance.

While the party downstairs was loud and had taken a rather raucous turn, up in your room, the only noise you could hear was the sound of harsh grunts and panting breaths.

When your mom had first hired Joel, you didn't understand exactly why she did so, because the chef you'd had earlier was perfectly fine. Now, you couldn't thank her enough for hiring him.

Joel had you pinned to your bedroom door, as he ate you out enthusiastically. Pulling your thigh on his shoulder, he doubled down on his efforts to get you to come undone. Running your fingers through his beautiful curls, you tugged on them as his wonderful tongue worked its magic on your swollen nub. He hummed, circling his finger around your center, urging you on.

Pulling your other leg on his shoulder, he moved to pick you up. You were uncertain about this, but he was insistant, picking you up like you weighed nothing at all. He didn't stop his ministrations as he dropped you on her bed, continuing his amorous assault.

This display of strength had you clenching and reaching your end in no time, as you moaned loudly, yanking on his curls to ground yourself.

"Oh baby, keep doing that, don't stop." He moaned, as he made his way up your body, leaving small kisses and nips along your thighs, your belly. He reached your breasts, taking a swollen nub in his mouth and sucking enthusiastically.

Looking down, you saw one of the most erotic sights ever. Joel worshipping you, his curls a wild mess, his pristine white shirt damp with your release and with a few buttons undone, coming untucked out of his tight black pants.

You groaned. You needed him so badly it practically hurt. Reaching down, you palmed him through his pants, as he thrust himself into your wandering hands.

Pulling his erect length out of his pants, you panted as you worked him over, stroking him as he moved his hips in tandem with your hands. His harsh breaths as he groaned and grunted through gritted teeth turned you on like nothing else.

"I'm close, sweetheart." He managed to blurt out, as you increased the speed of your strokes, tongue moving along his already sensitive head. He pulled his length from your grasp as he worked himself to his climax, yelling out and cursing as he came all over your breasts.

You were mildly disappointed that he held back from fucking you; hell, you were sure he was going to finally take that step and put you through the mattress.

"Joel, I need you. Please." You begged, the need to feel him fill you up dangerously high. You sounded pathetic, sure, but you were beyond caring at this point.

Joel smirked, catching his breath.

"I have to get back sweetheart. Your mom would kill me if she didn't see me in the kitchen."

You couldn't hide your frown as you watched him neaten up, running a hair through his curls. Joel leaving you high and dry was not how you saw your plan panning out. He was about to leave as he turned back, made his way to you, holding your chin between his fingers.

"But I promise you, this isn't over. Not by a long shot." He breathed against your lips, leaving a small peck as he left, leaving you weak and wanting for more.

Silently seething, you began to plot your next steps. Joel Miller wouldn't know what hit him.

Oh no i don't like it i don't think this is my best work but omg it's out there *runs and hides in a corner*

Will there be a part 2?? That's a great question. Honestly i think i could've done better so maybe i have a redemption arc as well lolol, who knows atp

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laurenairay · 3 months

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hopeless hearts just passing through - J. Hughes

This my entry for @wyattjohnston’s low-key lovefest 2k24 prompt list challenge. I chose “stop making promises you aren’t going to keep” from the angst list and “you’re the only person I wanted to see tonight” from the fluff list.

Summary: Jack had messed up, again. Can he make it up to you this time, or is it too late?

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: light angst, Jack being a dumbass, some bad language, fluff

Title from: I was made for loving you, by Tori Kelly

Thursday 28th December

[7.00pm] You’ve reached Jack. I’m obviously not here right now so leave me a message after the beep.

[7.25pm] You’ve reached Jack. I’m obviously not here right now so leave me a message after the beep.

[8.00pm] You’ve reached Jack. I’m obviously not here right now so leave me a message after the beep.

“Hey Jack, guess you’ve forgotten our call. Again. By now you probably have other plans tonight? Just… please give me a call when you listen to this.”

Friday 29th December

Morning came without a phone call. You didn’t know whether you were surprised or not, if you were being honest – this wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten to call you while on the road like he promised he would. This time though it felt different. Maybe it was because the two of you had spent a wonderful happy Hannukah & Christmas together only days before that hurt you the most. Maybe it was just because you believed Jack when he promised. Either way, this time you couldn’t let it go – it was a matter of principle.

You made it through your entire morning routine, getting washed and dressed for work, eating breakfast, packing your lunch into your work bag, before your phone started to ring. Jack. You glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall, wincing as you slipped into your shoes and grabbed your hooded coat, bag and keys on the way out the door. You weren’t going to be late, not for him.

“I’m on my way to work, I really can’t talk right now.”

You answered bluntly, pinning your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you put on your coat the moment you stepped into the elevator.

“I am so sorry baby.”

Really?

“That’s really all you have to say?” you snapped, picking your work bag up off the floor now that you’d zipped up your coat.

“What else can I say?”

You were stunned for a moment, lips parting. The nerve of this guy.

“Oh I don’t know, how about what you’re actually sorry for?” you said, the sarcasm in your voice barely hiding your anger.

You heard him huff out a breath, perfectly in time with the elevator doors opening on the ground floor of your apartment building.

“I’m sorry I missed our call. I know I promised to call you but I just totally forgot. The guys were all excited about a mario kart tournament and I really wanted Luke to finally get in on the action!”

“Please don’t blame your brother for your mistakes.”

Jack inhaled sharply over the phone. You could almost picture his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of something to say, just as he usually did in person, so you just waited for him to speak as you trudged down the street to your usual bus stop.

“I’m sorry. For blaming Luke and for upsetting you. It won’t happen again, baby, I promise.”

Yeah, okay. As if that was the first time he’d said that.

“Stop making promises you aren’t going to keep,” you said sharply.

Jack was silent for a moment or two.

“What do you mean?”

His voice sounded so small, so quiet, like he finalised realised the depth of how badly he’d screwed up. Good.

“You know what I mean, Jack. I’m not asking for the world – I know your team will always be priority. I’m just getting sick of never even crossing your mind at all. Even a text to say a mario kart tournament had started last minute would’ve been better than being fucking ghosted by my own boyfriend,” you groaned.

Thankfully there was no-one else at the bus stop to hear your cursing.

“Baby, please, I can do better. I will do better.”

He was clearly panicking, voice full of desperation with whatever he was reading from your own voice. But you just sighed, not really sure what to say because this wasn’t the first time so would it really be the last? Could you really believe him?

Before you could think of an answer to his pleading, your bus came into view as it turned the corner onto your road. Clearly this was a sign.

“I have to go, my bus is here,” you said softly.

“No baby, wait please, I-”

You ended the call without letting him finish, already feeling a headache coming on as the anger washed out of you. This was the last thing you needed after the heartache of last night – his panicked pleading. It wouldn’t help his case when he was so far away, not when you were this frustrated with him. The best thing for you to do, rather than tumbling into saying something you would regret, would be to give yourself some space, some breathing room.

Something that Jack clearly didn’t agree with as he immediately called your phone again.

Thankfully the bus pulled up right at that moment, so you felt justified in ignoring him, slipping your phone into your pocket as you flashed the driver your bus pass, focusing on finding a seat for your commute.

It was all you could do to keep your face neutral, trying to ignore the overwhelmed tears stinging at your eyes as your phone continued to buzz for most of your journey.

As you suspected, your morning at work was terrible. Not only did your mild headache turn into a fully formed one, but you were clearly giving off ‘leave me alone’ vibes because your colleagues steered clear, leaving you to stew in your emotions in peace. Not even a walk outside during your lunch break did any good – you still had a headache, the food you packed was so-so, and you had three emails to deal with that were really not your problem.

Didn’t people know that sending emails between Christmas and New Year was pointless?

“Hey, you’ve got a delivery.”

You jerked your head up from your computer to see your office receptionist standing next to you with a gigantic bouquet of flowers – white and pink roses, to be precise, around three dozen. What the hell?

“Uh, thanks,” you murmured, forcing a quick smile as she passed the bouquet over.

You tried desperately to ignore the whispers and stares around you as you spotted a card. Really you knew there was only one person who would send you flowers, but you still opened the small envelope with shaking hands anyway.

‘I’m sorry. Jack xx’

A simple message but it still made your heart ache.

That, and it made your lingering headache pound more. This was so typical Jack, wanting to do some sort of grand gesture which in technicality was very sweet but also so not what you needed right now. You didn’t need the reminder that things were shaky between you two. You didn’t need the stares and attention from your colleagues, all of them now knowing that something was wrong from your reaction. And you didn’t need to carry the bouquet home on the bus with you, the unresolved tension between you and Jack hanging over you like an axe.

Or, well, like a bouquet of 36 flowers, bigger than your head.

“Oh honey, what did he do?”

You winced at the pitying voice of your colleague, smiling sadly as you shook your head.

“I’d really rather not talk about it,” you said softly.

She nodded, smiling sadly back.

“Well if you change your mind, message me and we’ll go for coffee,” she said, voice quiet, trying to give you a modicum of privacy.

You just nodded, thanking her quietly in response, and she left with a squeeze of your shoulder. She meant well, you knew she did, and hopefully this interaction would stop anyone else (especially those who loved to stir drama) from approaching you too.

It was all you could do to put the flowers on the side of your desk, trying to ignore everything they represented. You had work to do – thinking about Jack right now was not going to do you any good.

When your phone buzzed a couple of hours later though, you still read the messages that Jack sent, one after another coming in.

[3.22pm]

From: Jack I got an email saying the flowers had been delivered. I chose white and pink roses to symbolise how much I love you and my loyalty and how sorry I am. I know that I messed up and I understand why you’re upset with me. But please give me a second chance?

He'd looked up flower symbolism. He specifically chose white and pink roses because of their meaning. What were you supposed to do with something so romantic when you were this frustrated with him?

Fuck.

With a sigh you pulled up the Devils schedule on your phone, confirming the date in your mind that he’d be back from his roadtrip. He was still in Ottawa today and then Boston tomorrow…but he would be back on New Year’s Eve. You could work with that.

[3.35pm]

To: Jack The flowers are beautiful. Thank you. I am still upset with you, but I will hear you out. If you want to talk, come to mine on NYE. I have no plans.

The two of you hadn’t discussed any parties or plans at all for New Year’s Eve, even though you had assumed Jack would’ve dragged you somewhere in the end. But this was better. You needed time alone with him because there was no way you could face him for the first time after all this while surrounded by other people. Putting the ball in his court was the only way to keep your sanity at this point.

With another sigh you put your phone down, raking a hand through your hair as your eyes lingered on the colourful blooms on your desk. They really were beautiful.

You weren’t surprised when it took mere minutes before your phone buzzed again.

[3.37pm]

From: Jack I’ll be there. I promise.

Saturday 30th December

[11.15pm]

To: Jack Sorry about the loss. You’ll get the Bruins next time.

[11.20pm]

From: Jack Thanks ❤️

Sunday 31st December

You hadn’t spoken to Jack since texting him after yesterday’s defeat. Mostly because you knew he was travelling, but also because you knew that him coming over to yours tonight was when you really needed to speak.

For some reason you were a little nervous. You didn’t know what it was really that had you furiously cleaning your apartment, but those fizzing bubbles ran all through your body the whole day. It didn’t help that you had no idea what time Jack would come over. Assuming he was still coming over, that was. No, he had promised, and he knew how you felt about promises. At least you hoped he had learned his lesson on how you felt because you weren’t sure of how much more you could take.

Tonight had to be your deciding factor on protecting your heart, you knew that much.

When you’d scrubbed and rearranged and hoovered all that you could, you showered and dressed up in a comfortable black velvet tea dress, curled your hair and put on a little make-up before putting some wine in the fridge to chill. It was New Year’s Eve after all, and you knew that if Jack didn’t turn up by 9pm, your friends had insisted that you go over to theirs to celebrate the new year together. It felt good to know that you had a safety net because if Jack didn’t show tonight? You were done. And you knew you’d need the support of your friends to get you through.

Fuck.

You really hoped he showed up.

When it got to 6pm, you put some soft music on, hoping to drown out the silence of your apartment, feeling like an idiot for just sitting around waiting for him. What if he didn’t show up? What if he let you down again? What if this was the end of your relationship? What if…

Bzzzzz

The buzzer for your apartment crashed through your swirling thoughts and you quickly jumped to your feet, cheeks heating with how ridiculous you felt.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. Can you let me up?”

Jack. He came.

You didn’t answer, just pressed the button to let him in, trying to keep yourself calm as you paced to and forth while you waited for him to take the elevator up to your apartment. In all reality it didn’t take long, but after the last few days it felt like a lifetime.

“Hey.”

You huffed out a laugh at your awkward greetings, stepping aside to let him in.

“Thanks, uh, for inviting me over,” Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Wasn’t sure what time you would come. Or what you were doing tonight,” you murmured, shutting the door behind him.

Jack groaned, walking further into your apartment, you following silently. “I should’ve texted. Fuck, I should’ve told you exactly what time I was coming over, but I got so caught up trying to find the right thing to wear and dropping Luke off early at Nico’s and…”

Oh bless his heart. He was going straight into it then.

His rant trailed off as you pressed a finger to his lips, responding to your amused smile with a shy one of his own.

“You look great, Jack – you always do,” you said simply, dropping your hand back to your side, “But I actually meant if you had other plans around this like parties you were going to go to.”

Jack immediately shook his head, face more serious than you’d ever seen it.

“You’re the only person I wanted to see tonight,” he said firmly.

Oh fuck. Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, Jack taking the chance to hold both of your hands.

“I messed up. I know I messed up. I haven’t been treating you with the respect you deserve and missing even one call with you without letting you know why is unacceptable…”

Wow. This was far more than you had ever expected from him, and your heart ached with the emotion he was putting into his thoughts. Maybe he’d rehearsed this with Luke, maybe he was winging it, but you could tell in his eyes that he meant every word. He was right – you hadn’t been respected like you deserve. Could he really turn himself around though?

“…I really am sorry, baby. I love you so much and I can’t bear the thought of losing you. Please, will you forgive me?”

The confidence in his voice wavered a little, voice cracking with the emotion of his words, and you felt a pang radiate through your chest. You’d never seen him look so vulnerable before. Maybe you needed to see it.

As you formed your thoughts, you kept your hands in his, squeezing to let him know you were processing so he didn’t panic or shut down. That was the last thing you wanted or needed. This was a lot, and it was important that you said what you really meant.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to dive straight into this.”

Jack winced slightly, lips parting, but you shook your head. No, it was your turn now.

“You really hurt me, Jack. I appreciate that you understand that, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I was hurt. I don’t ask for much and you couldn’t even give me the bare minimum,” you started.

The whimper that escaped from his throat just about broke your heart, but you barrelled on.

“I deserve more. I deserve better. I deserve respect, you’re right. I just…I really hope you’re the one that can give that to me,” you said softly.

As your words sunk in, a hopeful smile quickly spread across his face.

“I get a second chance?” he grinned, making you huff out a laugh.

“Yeah, Jack, you do. But you won’t get a third. I don’t like feeling like I don’t matter and you can’t do that again,” you said, hoping he understood how serious you were.

Jack nodded, squeezing your hands.

“I won’t let you down, baby. I almost lost you once by being a careless asshole, I won’t lose you again,” he said, smiling.

Oh how that smile gave you butterflies.

“I love you,” he said again.

It didn’t matter how long you’d been together or how many times he said it – hearing those words fall from his lips made your heart race every single time.

“I love you too,” you said, finally smiling back.

Jack whooped, throwing his head back in celebration, making you burst out in laughter, even more so as he dropped your hands to wrap his arms around your waist, picking you up to spin around in a circle. Ridiculous, ridiculous man.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You just clutched at his shoulders as he murmured the words over and over again in your ear, hoping that this time, his words would be true.

#my writing #jack hughes fic #lowkey lovefest 2k24 #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine

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mypoisonedvine · 11 months

Text

𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒 || eddie munson x reader

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 || sometimes, the best things happen when you're a little late.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 || 2.7k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 || implied smut/established relationship (18+), unplanned pregnancy, reader's parents are controlling, no descriptions of pregnancy/childbirth, dad!eddie, implied preppy/rich reader but it's not discussed much

this is just a short and sweet little fic based on a random idea I had, totally different from what I normally do but I hope y'all like it!!

“Hey pumpkin,” he purred as you sat on his desk, resting one of those beautiful ringed hands on your thigh. You had been practicing how you were going to say this all weekend and now you felt like you’d forgotten it somehow; he had that effect on you.

Taking a deep breath, you saw his eyes narrow for a second and his head tilt— he knew something was up, but he didn’t have to ask what before you blurted it out: “I’m late.”

He frowned and looked at the clock on the classroom wall; “It’s still three minutes until class?” he observed.

“Eddie…” you whispered, feeling so— something. This crazy feeling you’d had for days now; this weird, nervous, insecure kind of feeling. This oh my god is this happening to me feeling.

He looked at you, waiting for more context, and you chewed your lip as you looked away. Then he seemed to get it, and his chest sunk. “O-oh, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“I— okay,” he breathed, leaning in closer to you. “Like… how late?”

“Four days?”

“Shit,” he hissed, glancing out the window and back at you— like there was gonna be someone standing outside holding up a sign for him that would tell him what to say. But there wasn’t, and he obviously had no fucking idea what to say. “Shit,” he said again.

“Yeah,” you also said again.

He stood up from his desk, lowering his voice and standing closer to you so (hopefully) only you could hear; thankfully nobody else seemed to be paying either of you much attention, just trying to get ready for class. You wished you could think about class right now. “What do we— I mean, how do we— I— when will you know? Like, for sure?”

Even with all this fear (and nausea) swirling inside you, you still almost swooned at those big brown eyes, looking at you like this. You could tell he was terrified, just as much as you, but he couldn’t hide the small edge of excitement— as much as this is supposed to be every young guy’s worst nightmare, you knew a part of him was thrilled at the chance of it.

You were too, though you were too embarrassed to admit that even to yourself. It was horribly misguided; your parents didn’t even know you’d been seeing Eddie, because you’d figured they would have a heart attack if they knew. This was going to be armageddon— if it was really going to happen. You were still hoping it was just an unpredictable period and a whole lot of wasted emotion.

“I won’t know for sure until I go to a doctor,” you answered, “but I can’t really do that without tipping off my parents…”

“I’ll drive you,” he decided.

“And… if it’s…?” you dared to mumble, nervously glancing down, preparing for him to answer that he would drive you to a different doctor…

Instead, he opened his mouth and the bell rang. “We’ll talk about that later,” he decided.

“Okay,” you breathed. “I— yeah, we’ll talk about it. We’ll… figure something out.”

He pulled you in for a kiss suddenly, and it soothed you a bit as you melted into his arms. The teacher cleared her throat; “I’d oblige you to return to your own classroom, Miss?” she instructed.

Eddie didn’t let you go quite yet, though, holding your face and looking at you closely. “It’s gonna be okay,” he promised. “No matter what happens, it’s gonna be okay. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He kissed your forehead one more time as he hugged you, and then you took your leave, back to your class, where you had no hope of focusing.

“If you do— I mean, if it is—” he kept stopping and starting over— “and if it’s mine—”

“Eddie!” you frowned, smacking him on the arm.

“Sorry, sorry— I know you’re not— sorry,” he mumbled, “I just mean… that’s my baby. Our baby.”

You bit your lip.

“I-if it is, you know, there, I mean,” he mitigated.

“Okay, so if it is— if I am… what do you want me to do?” you asked.

“Whatever you need to do,” he nodded. “Whatever’s right for you. I mean, I know your parents…”

He trailed off, and you raised your brows as you nodded. “Yeah…”

“So if you have to… I understand,” he insisted.

“But what do you want me to do?” you asked again.

He chewed his lip. “It’s your choice.”

“I know,” you groaned, “but if you could choose what I was going to do for me—”

“Which I would never do,” he announced proudly.

“What would you hypothetically want me to do if it was up to you?” you pressed. “And don’t say I should do what’s best for me,” you warned, causing him to shut his mouth which he’d just opened.

“I… uh, well, I guess…” he stalled, looking down; but you could tell he already knew what he wanted, he was just trying to find the courage to say it. Getting a serious look on his face, he finally admitted it: “I’d want you to keep it. I’d want us to… have it, raise it.”

You sighed, smiling with relief— you felt the same way, but didn’t want to say it first, in case it pressured him into feeling like he had to be involved. And the last thing you wanted was to raise a baby with someone only there out of obligation.

“I know we’re young, and it’s sooner than either one of us wanted this to happen,” he continued, “but I don’t… I don’t want you to think of our baby as a mistake. Not planned, sure, a little unexpected… but if we do this, it’s not a mistake. It’s two people who love each other starting a family together.”

He stepped closer to you, holding your hands tightly as you smiled.

“But that’s just if I was in charge of everything, which I’m not,” he laughed.

“No, that’s what I want, too,” you admitted. “But, if that’s gonna happen, I have to tell my parents first.”

Eddie blew out a long breath that inflated his cheeks. “Yeah. Good luck with that.”

You raised an eyebrow, and he coughed.

“Uh, I mean— I’ll come with you, if you want, obviously. Your dad doesn’t own any guns, right?”

You laughed a little, leaning forward to rest your head on his chest with a sigh. “He won’t literally kill you, Ed— but I think I should do it myself, just so they have a chance to meet you when things are less… emotional, I guess.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, kissing the top of your head and petting your hair as you leaned on him. “S’gonna be okay, pumpking, even if they get mad at first.”

You nodded, replying “I know,” but you didn’t really know. You had this sick feeling in your stomach, terrified of how they would react— especially considering you’d already been formally banned from seeing Eddie anymore.

You waited, of course, to tell them until you were late enough that something had to be said— actually, they nearly figured it out once the sudden bouts of nausea began. If either of you had known what would happen after they found out, you would’ve cherished that time before more carefully.

one year later…

It took about half a second for Wayne to figure it out, seeing you on his doorstep with a baby on your hip.

His nephew had been listless ever since you left, and it took him a while to even say what was going on— but after a few times of innocently asking if that girl’s ever gonna come around again, Wayne finally assumed that you’d dumped him. But apparently, it was far worse than that; when he had a few beers in him, Eddie told the whole story about how a broken condom led to a missed period and about a dozen positive at-home tests. And that, apparently, wasn’t the issue— he admitted he’d wanted to go through with it, offered to marry you, got excited about having a child even if he felt totally overwhelmed at the idea of becoming a father.

I figured I could do it better than mine, Eddie told his uncle, a little somber smile on his face, and that made me feel better. Kind of a low bar, but still. I’d’ve done anything for that baby… for our baby…

But that was when he got choked up and struggled to say much more, until Wayne eventually pulled it out of him. Her parents, man, they hate me— guess I can understand why, ‘cept they never even met me. She told ‘em and they just went ballistic. And they… she’s gone.

‘Gone’ as in, shipped off to live with extended family in another state and, presumably, have the pregnancy quietly ‘taken care of’. You’d told him from the start that’s probably what they’d do, or at least make you give it up for adoption. They told their country club and cotillion friends you were studying abroad, to save the shame of admitting their daughter was knocked up by a trailer park freak.

Well, apparently Eddie had been slightly wrong about what happened to the baby after you disappeared, and now, here you were. And Wayne was staring at you, with that sweet-but-slightly-terrified look in your eyes.

“Is Eddie here?” you asked meekly; because what else would you ask?

Wayne sighed. “No, he’s at work— he’ll be back in an hour.”

Your eyes lit up a little, even through all that fear you had on your face. “He has a job?”

“Yeah, at the oil change place on Main,” Wayne nodded. “You can wait for him here, if you don’t mind.”

You smiled a little; “F’course I don’t,” you assured, “and… well, I figured you might wanna meet her, too.”

Wayne smiled back, feeling like he was finally allowed to address the adorable, chubby-cheeked elephant in the room.

“Say hi to Uncle Wayne,” you instructed the baby sweetly, and she smiled but tucked her face into your shoulder.

“Hi, beautiful,” he smiled at her, waving with just the tips of his fingers. “Wow, got your daddy’s eyes, don’tcha?”

You felt your face warm as he noticed it— of course, it wasn’t like there was much chance this was anybody else’s baby, but knowing that Wayne knew made you slightly nervous he would judge you somehow (since everyone else had). Instead, he brought you both inside and started making tea.

When Eddie’s van pulled up outside the trailer, you glanced at Wayne nervously. He nodded towards the door, adding, “I’ll watch her— just go.”

Your legs were a little shaky as you stood up off the couch, but you did your best to breathe normally as you opened the door and stepped out onto the lawn.

Eddie was getting groceries out of the back of his van, and your heart rate picked up even more as you waited for him to see you; you worried he wouldn’t want to, after you disappeared on him. You’d never had a chance to say goodbye, to explain what was going on or why you were leaving… he could hate you, if he wanted, for abandoning him.

But when he did see you, and you shyly shrugged a little as you waited for a reaction, he dropped the grocery bags on the ground and ran to you.

“Oh my god!” he laughed excitedly, pulling you into a tight bear hug. “Pumpkin, I thought I might never see you again…”

You hugged him back, wanting to think of something to say but getting too caught up in holding him again, in burying your face in his soft shirt and smelling his cologne; this was all you’d been thinking about for most of the last year.

“I missed you so much,” Eddie began as he let you go for a moment, looking at you like he wanted to be sure you were really here, “and I wanted to call, or write or something, but I couldn’t— I guess you couldn’t either— and I barely got out of bed for a week after you left, just ask Wayne— how long have you been waiting? Are your boobs bigger?”

You started to laugh, covering your face with your hands and Eddie’s laughed thinly as his face tinted pink.

“Sorry, I didn’t wanna say anything,” he mumbled, “but like, they’re bigger, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah— it’s ‘cause I’m breastfeeding…”

He blinked quickly, and you bit your lip as you waited for a reaction. “I thought— I figured your parents had made you— I— pumpkin,” he breathed, and your heart twisted. “Is this really…? I mean, I’m not dreaming, am I?”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t visit before— I wanted you to meet her so bad, I just—”

“Her?” he repeated, and you only started to choke up when you saw the tears in his eyes; you nodded. “I— oh my god, I love you,” he said simply, wiping a tear off his cheek before hugging you again— not as tight as before but somehow warmer and sweeter.

“I love you too,” you whispered, “I’m sorry I left, I’m sorry I couldn’t call, I swear I wanted to but—”

“Don’t be sorry for anything, okay?” he interrupted you, kissing the top of your head as he began to rock you side to side in the hug. “I’m just so happy you’re here…”

“Sh-she’s here too,” you blurted out, making him freeze and look down at you. “She’s inside, with Wayne, if you wanna…?”

He sniffled as he wiped another tear away; “Y-yeah, of course… of course I do, wow, yeah. Okay.”

“I-it’s okay if you’re not ready yet,” you assured, but he laughed.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for this since… I don’t even know how long— since you sat on my desk in Science class…”

You beamed and hugged him again before you walked together into the trailer.

When you and Eddie stepped inside, Wayne was bouncing her on his knee— she was reaching up to grab his face, a new favorite hobby of hers, and he scrunched up his nose and closed one eye as her little hands explored his rough, stubbly features. Eddie already looked overcome with emotion just watching the scene before him, staring forward at her with a slack mouth and shiny eyes, and he hadn’t even seen her face yet; when you shut the door, the sound made her turn her head to look back at you. He was still speechless, walking forward slowly and kneeling down in front of Wayne’s feet. Wayne turned her to face him better, and Eddie wordlessly reached up towards her; she grabbed hold of one of his fingers, and he smiled and sniffled as he looked at her tiny fist and back up to her face. “Hi there,” he greeted quietly.

“Eddie… this is Emily,” you introduced them quietly, and Eddie beamed as he glanced at you for a second before looking at her again.

“Hello, Emily,” he said, “I’m Eddie— I mean, dad. I’m Daddy. Nice to meet you.”

You snorted at how formal it was, but still had to wipe a tear from your eye.

“Can I hold her?” he asked quietly, nervously.

“Of course,” you breathed, almost heartbroken that he could ever imagine not being allowed to hold her— but then again, he never got to see her, or even know she existed, until now.

Wayne handed her off to Eddie, who put his hands under her arms— she was still so small, his grasp almost covered her whole body. Standing up and taking her with him, Eddie stared at her for a moment with the most amazed smile on his face; she reached for that very face, and he laughed as she held on tight to his nose.

You were wondering if you’d have to guide him in how to hold her, but as he pulled her into a hug, he impressed you with how experienced he already looked— he looked like a dad, and he’d only been doing it for less than a minute. It made your heart so full, finally seeing them together, finally seeing your baby in her father’s arms, finally feeling like your family was complete.

He bounced her in his arms, kissing her head and face, tears still striping his cheeks. Hi baby, hi beautiful, hi gorgeous, hi Emily, he kept whispering to her. Daddy loves you so much. Daddy missed you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you

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thelukesalvez · 7 months

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Luke Alvez x Reader: Concussed

Request: do you think you could do some type of situation with luke where he has to clean a cut on your forehead or something? like that cute awkward moment 😭 (i hope this makes sense)

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: blood mention

A/N: Plsssss I miss him sm, enjoy!!

Every single day, you fought actual, literal bad guys for a living. The worst of the worst– the kind local police needed help handling. You drew your weapon more than you could keep track of and chased unsubs down the street at least once a month.

And yet, it was the bird feeder that did you in.

To be fair– you figured technically, it was the ladder that you were standing on in a feeble attempt to hang the bird feeder that was the real culprit. But as you sat in the grass with a bruised ass and ego, you figured the details weren’t really that important.

Once the initial shock from the whole ordeal wore off, you slowly started to stand up– emphasis on the slowly. Because it became inherently clear as soon as you tried to move that you’d been hit in the head harder than you initially thought.

“Fuck,” you hissed as soon as your fingers grazed the sensitive spot on your forehead. When you pulled your hand away, you were horrified to see the thick, crimson liquid coating your fingers. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you winced, bracing your hands on your knees while you stood the rest of the way up.

“You try to do something nice… like feed the fucking birds, and look what happens,” you muttered to the universe. “You fall on your ass and get concussed by a goddamn bird feeder.”

A concussion would definitely help explain the absurd amount of talking you were doing to absolutely nobody.

With what little dignity you had left (which was practically zero) you picked up the smashed bird feeder from the ground and trudged across the lawn towards the open garage door. After setting it down near the overflowing trash bin, you dragged your feet the rest of the way inside.

You made it about two feet before you heard a knock coming from the front door.

Frowning, you wondered who the hell would be knocking at your door at 11 o’clock on a Sunday morning. Your curiosity made you forget all about your almost-certain concussion, as you slid across the kitchen towards where the knocking continued. Because you weren’t a total idiot (bird feeder to the forehead aside) you peaked through the curtains cautiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of your visitor. Everything inside of you loosened the moment you laid eyes on Luke– the newest member of your team and your neighbor only four houses down (which you’d learned from a brief conversation with him only days ago).

He was dressed in a plain, gray T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his muscular calves on full display. You watched for only a moment longer, trying to control the butterflies suddenly flying rampant through your stomach. Luke had only been a part of the team for a couple weeks, but you were already learning that he had this sort of effect on you. Something about his smile– or the way he laughed, or the way he told the funniest jokes, and always knew what to say when someone was having a tough day– or the way he so obviously cared about the people you helped and was always so empathetic… Come to think about it, you adored just about everything about Luke.

Before he could catch you gawking over him through the window like an absolute lunatic, you snapped the blinds closed and made your way to the front door. As soon as you swung it open, you were faced with arguably the most handsome man you’d ever met.

“Luke, hi!” you greeted happily.

But his face went from excited to horrified to angry in the blink of an eye.

“Y/N, what the hell?

His beautiful, warm eyes went dark as they swept over the length of you. And that was the moment you remembered what you currently looked like–

With all the excitement of seeing Luke, you had totally forgotten that you’d fallen off a ladder and mauled by a bird feeder only moments ago.

His shock quickly turned to anger as he took a step forward, so that he was standing right in front of you. “Who did this?” he asked, his tone solid and protective. His hand hovered near your jaw but didn’t quite touch you.

“What?” you shook your head, and winced as soon as you did. “No–”

“Y/N, who did this to you?”

“No one–” you said quickly. “I mean– I did. Not on purpose–” you clarified. “I fell.”

“You fell?” he asked in disbelief, his tone softening just the slightest bit.

You nodded. “I was trying to hang the bird feeder, but the ladder slipped on the leaves on the lawn. It was stupid–”

“Jesus,” Luke winced as his fingers ghosted along the edge of your jaw. You couldn’t help the sudden, sharp inhale through your lips the second that you felt his touch graze your skin. “I could’ve helped you with that, you know. Why didn’t you ask–”

“Because I didn’t think bird suet would be the death of me today,” you admitted feebly. You hoped the dirt and blood from your fall was at least hiding the blush creeping up your neck and cheeks.

A soft chuckle escaped Luke’s lips, but the look of concern remained.

“That’s a pretty nasty cut,” he said. “Let me help you clean it up.”

“Oh that’s okay,” you waved him away. “You don’t have to do that–”

“Did you even notice that you had blood all over your collar?” he asked, nodding slightly.

You look down quickly and groan as soon as you see that your beige pullover was stained in a dark shade of crimson.

“I think you’re probably a little concussed,” he added. “At least let me make sure you’re not dealing with anything worse. I used to help the medic sometimes in the field. Plus– I brought homemade muffins.”

Your eyes widened at the sight of the plastic container being raised in Luke’s other hand. “You brought baked goods?”

“Muffins– yes.”

A wave of emotions washed over you. You didn’t have the best dating history– there was the guy who kept you a secret from his entire family (wife that you had no idea about included), then there was the guy who would cancel all your dates to spend time playing video games with his friends. And how could you forget about the guy who would conveniently “forget” his wallet every time you went out.

And now here you were– standing in front of a man you’d known for only a couple of weeks and he was bringing you homemade muffins.

“I–” you stammered. “I don’t– I can’t–”

“Woah,” Luke said, taking another step forward. “Maybe you should sit down. I think you’re more concussed than we thought.”

You shook your head. “I’m not concussed. Or… I probably am. But I mean, I’m just shocked–” you admitted. “No one’s ever done something like this before.”

“You said pumpkin muffins reminded you of home– and then you said later that day that you were feeling homesick. So–” his voice trailed off. You thought you might have detected a hint of embarrassment in his tone.

Your eyes widened even more.

“This is making me sound way creepier than I am–” Luke stammered. “I just… I was baking anyway, and I had a can of pumpkin just lying around... I didn’t go out of my way or anything in a weird way…”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you said, meaning it. “Seriously, Luke. Thank you. I don’t… I don’t know how to repay you.”

“How about letting me help clean that cut up?” he asked, throwing you a cheeky grin.

The corner of your mouth curled into a smile. “Fine,” you agreed, finally stepping back to let him inside. After closing the door, you turned to find him setting the plastic container down on the counter.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” he asked.

“Uh, under the sink in the bathroom,” you said, still convinced you hadn’t processed any of this yet.

“And the bathroom is…” his voice trailed off.

“Oh–” Luke looked so damn natural standing in your kitchen, you forgot he’d never actually been here before. “Down the hall, last door on the left.”

“Got it. Be right back.” With that, Luke was taking his uncharacteristically long strides down your hall before disappearing in the bathroom.

For the first time since answering the door, you raised your hand and touched your temple. Wet liquid still coated your forehead, despite how much time had passed since the accident. Maybe it was a good thing you were agreeing to let Luke help.

He was back in an instant, holding a damp washcloth and the small first aid kit you’d ordered online months ago, but hoping to never use.

“In here,” he nodded towards the kitchen. “The lighting’s better.”

You nodded, realizing he really didn’t have to explain. You and your concussed brain would follow him just about anywhere. Your eyes really widened when he patted the counter, indicating that he wanted you to sit on it.

You didn’t even question his logic though. Instead, you swiftly slipped onto the lip of the granite counter and waited aimlessly while Luke fished around your first aid kit for what he needed. You were level with him now, your gaze trailing down the length of his thick, muscular body. You studied the lines and curves of his skin better. You noticed every crease– every laugh line, every freckle. God, was he always this beautiful?

Out of nowhere a smirk spread across his lips. “You’re staring.”

Blinking harshly, you tilted your head towards the ceiling, the bright light hitting your eyes and making you wince. “Fuck,” you grunted, dropping your head and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Shit, you okay?” he asked carefully, dropping the kit to cup your cheek carefully. You felt the pressure on your neck ease as you allowed yourself to lean into his touch.

Carefully you opened your eyes and nodded. “Yeah– just the light.”

“You’re definitely concussed,” he stated, eyes traveling from yours to the cut on your forehead. “Did you hurt anything else besides your forehead?”

“Is the gash not enough?” you asked dryly, missing the feeling of his touch the moment he moved his hand.

Luke chuckled. “Oh, the gash is plenty. Just checking, though. Here–” you felt his touch against your face again. This time, his fingers grazed along your chin, tipping it slightly. “Can you lift just a bit for me?”

You nodded and moved your head in the direction he gestured. “'Atta girl,” he said, your stomach churning at his praise. You felt him press the washcloth to your temple gently, swiping up dried blood. As he neared the actual wound, you found yourself tensing up. But when you gripped the sleeve of his T-shirt, Luke didn’t even mention it. Instead he traced his thumb up and down your jaw soothingly and whispered reassurances. “I’m sorry, I know, I know–”

“It’s okay,” you said through gritted teeth. “It’s my own stupid fault. Too bad you didn’t show up just a few minutes earlier, you might have actually gotten to see the show.”

“So remind me again how this happened– you fell off a ladder?”

��Well, sort of,” you explained. “I was trying to hang my bird feeder– on the tall branch. But the ladder slipped on the leaves, which I’ve been meaning to rake for weeks now… and when I fell the bird feeder sort of fell too… on my head.”

You dared to steal a glance towards Luke. The second you did, you noticed him biting back a smile.

“You can laugh,” you said defeatedly. “It’s completely ridiculous. A little stupid, too.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said, composing himself.

“We took down a six foot unsub last week,” you reminded him. “Yet the bird feeder is what does me in.”

“Well… when you put it that way,” Luke smirked.

“If anyone at work asks, you have to lie for me,” you pleaded. “Tell them it was something heroic.”

“I’ll tell them you saved a baby bird from a tree. Instead of letting it fall to its death, you broke the fall with your forehead.”

“That makes me sound so noble,” you laughed.

“Get ready,” Luke warned as he dabbed some alcohol on a gauze pad.

“Shit,” you muttered, trying to brace yourself, not even thinking as you moved to grip his bicep.

“Squeeze as hard as you need,” he said softly. “Ready?”

You weren’t. But you nodded anyway.

The stinging sensation ripped through you, causing an onslaught of swear words to escape your lips. You gripped Luke’s arm desperately, your fingers digging into his skin. If you weren’t completely consumed by pain, you would’ve noticed how strong his muscles felt beneath your touch.

“Almost done,” he murmured, dabbing a few more spots before finally setting down the gauze. “There. Breathe.”

You nodded, your eyes still snapped shut as you attempted to inhale and exhale.

“Good job,” he soothed. When you opened your eyes, your breath hitched when you noticed how close Luke’s face was to yours.

His jaw tensed, shadows dancing across his face, and you immediately wished you could lean forward and just kiss that look of concern right off from his lips. Your eyes lingered on them for a beat too long– because you heard Luke clear his throat and tilt his head back.

Embarrassed, you looked down at your hands folded in your lap.

“Last step,” he said quietly, pulling a large bandaid and some antibiotic cream from the first aid kit.

You nodded, shaking yourself out of the desire before holding your head up to give him better access to your cut. Carefully, Luke placed the cream and bandage over your cut. “There,” he murmured softly.

His hand shifted on its own accord, fingers moving to brush loose strands of hair that had fallen into your face, before traveling down the length of your jaw, chin and neck.

God, he really was beautiful.

Luke smirked. “Thanks.”

“What?” you whispered.

“I think you’re beautiful, too.”

Oh, shit. Had you really said that out loud? And was that the concussion speaking or just this intense, surreal intoxication you felt for Luke?

Involuntarily, you sucked in a breath, and then you did something you knew you wouldn’t have been brave enough to do unless you really were concussed– you leaned forward and pressed your mouth against Luke’s without a second thought. It was a soft brush at first, testing to see if he wanted to pull away. When he didn't, you slid forward on the counter and wound your arms around his neck.

Luke’s other hand, the one that wasn’t cupping your face like he was afraid you’d break, landed on your hip. His fingers dug into your side as he pulled you closer to him. Your body fit against his like it was made for kissing him.

Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck, where you twisted your fingers amongst his curls. He moaned in approval, and you smiled into the kiss– into him, and it was nearly devastating when he pulled away and didn't smile back.

And then Luke was sinking his teeth into his bottom lip and taking a step back. “You’re concussed,” he said. “I’m sorry, this can’t happen– you’re… not in the right state of mind.”

Embarrassed, you slid off from the counter and wiped your mouth with your sleeve. “I’m sorry–” you stammered. “I didn’t realize you didn’t want to–”

Before you could slip past Luke– to run or hide or whatever the hell you could think to do– he shook his head and gently placed his hand on your hip, guiding you until your back collided with the counter. “I want to,” he said clearly, lowering his forehead so that it was pressed against yours. “God knows I’ve wanted to since the day I met you.”

It took a minute for his words to find meaning in your own brain. But as soon as they did, you looked up at him hopefully, your eyes widening. “Really?”

“Fuck, yes,” he rasped, his thumb wiping a tear you hadn’t even realized was falling. “Are you kidding me? I don’t just bring pumpkin muffins to anyone… That was my attempt at making a move.”

“Instead I got clocked with a bird feeder before throwing myself at you,” you groaned. You leaned forward and rested the non-injured side of your head against Luke’s chest.

“If I didn’t think you had a pretty severe concussion, I would more than welcome you throwing yourself at me,” Luke assured you.

You scoffed. “The concussion may have given me the courage to throw myself at you, but I’ve been wanting to do it way longer.”

You felt his chuckle vibrate beneath you. “I’ll tell you what…” he began, his hand sprawling out against your back. “You still want me after you’re not concussed, and you won’t have to throw yourself at me ever again.”

A shiver ran down your spine– your body thrilled with the idea. “Deal.”

“In the meantime, how about I hangout here? Make sure no more bird feeders fall on your head.”

You smiled against his chest, unable to contain the feelings he elicited inside of you. “I’d like that,” you admitted.

#luke alvez #criminal minds #luke alvez imagine #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez fic #luke alvez x reader imagine #criminal minds imagine #luke alvez x reader fic #luke alvez x reader fanfic #criminal minds x reader

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reidreaders · 5 months

Text

Spencer Reid, Celebrity Crush

Summary: Every now and then, you see this FBI agent on TV and you have been crushing on him for years. What happens when you finally meet him in real life?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: use of y/n, they are both really awkward lol, it's like soon to be idiots in love yk, not proof read, idk what else lmk if I missed anything.

A/N: this idea has been rotting in my brain for so long and I finally decided to write it lol. I had sooo much fun writing this so lmk if you a part 2!!! Enjoy!!!!

MASTERLIST

Your favorite time of night was when you and your roommate would gather around the TV to watch the five o’clock news. This might not seem like totally normal behavior for two women in their twenties, but you guys didn’t tune in to keep up with what was going on in the world. Rather, you tuned in every night to hopefully catch a glimpse of the man of your dreams. It’s fair to say that most people have a celebrity crush, although normal people are usually infatuated by famous singers, movie stars, and the like. Not you however, the man that you pined for was a local FBI agent. Your roommate would even go as far as to say that he doesn’t count as a ‘celebrity crush’ because he’s not even famous, but he was to you.

You grew up not far from Quantico, meaning that the nightly news was always full of stories about the town’s own personal superheroes, the FBI. You had never been particularly interested in anything having to do with them, until you started hearing about the Behavioral Analysis Unit. You had seen a clip of one of the agents tricking a bystander into proving he was lying on TV, and you instantly fell in love. So, when you sat down to watch the news, you were more than excited to hopefully see him.

You had gotten lucky tonight. The news ran stories about the BAU almost nightly, but it was rare you got to see anyone other than the blonde woman they called Agent Jareau. But tonight was different. You practically screamed when you saw him come on screen, not even paying attention to whatever psychopath he was talking about. Instead, you focused on how his lips moved when he spoke, and the way the breeze outside the police station lifted his hair just ever so slightly. Needless to say, you were practically swooning. You were captivated by his big brown puppy eyes, his mop of messy brown hair, and the way he seemed so passionate about whatever he was talking about. It may have been the delusion talking, but you were pretty sure that if you ever met him, he would fall in love with you too.

A few weeks later, you were rushing to get to work on time. Your alarm hadn’t gone off when it was supposed to, leaving you frantic. Normally, you woke up early, giving yourself time to make breakfast and enjoy a cup of coffee. But today the fates had decided that you would have to settle for a cup of coffee and a croissant to go from the coffee shop down the street from your office.

You placed your order and began to fumble through your purse looking for your wallet.

“Sorry,” you mumbled to the cashier, who seemed to be growing impatient, “It must be in here somewhere.”

After looking for a few more minutes, and creating a giant line of annoyed customers behind you, you had come to the conclusion that in your rush to get out the door this morning, you had forgotten your wallet. Just as you were about to give up and leave the coffee shop, hungry and tired, a familiar voice piped up from behind you.

“Here,” he said, handing the cashier his card, “I’ve got it.”

“Oh my gosh thank you so much!” You said, not yet looking up from your bag.

“It’s no problem really,” He extended his hand to you, “I’m Spencer.”

Oh.

You quickly realized where you had recognized that voice from. He was Spencer. As in Spencer Reid, the FBI agent you were so hopelessly in love with. This was your chance. You had to play it cool. You couldn’t have him realizing that you were some freak who was obsessed with him, you wanted to land a date.

“H-hi!” You stuttered, a little more excitedly than you were hoping to, “I-I’m Y/N.” You reached out to shake his hand, your own becoming a little clammy at the sight of him.

He was tall. Much taller than he seemed to be on TV. You looked up into those big brown eyes you had gazed into through the screen and thought you were going to throw up because of how nervous you were.

“Um-” You cleared your throat, “Do you-uh-do you work around here?” You said in an attempt to seem calm, cool and collected.

“Uh yeah I do. I work for the FBI, so it’s just up the road.” He said, seemingly chuckling at your behavior a little bit.

“Oh! That’s cool! I work just up the road too! Although it’s nothing as exciting as what the FBI must be like I mean-” You were cut off by the barista calling your name, saving you from your incessant rambling.

You collected your coffee and turned to head towards the door, stopping to thank Spencer once again. Just as you were about to leave, you got a wave of courage. There was no way you were going to completely blow this opportunity. I mean, you have had a crush on this guy for forever and there was no way you were going to walk out of here without at least trying to ask him out.

“Hey,” You said much more calmly, “I know we literally just met, and I have been babbling like a freak at you, but I was wondering if you might want to have dinner with me sometime?” You asked, your voice getting higher as you spoke.

“Oh-um,” He sputtered back, clearly taken aback by your proposition, “Um… yeah?” He said it like a question.

“I mean, if you’re not into it that’s totally okay,” you feigned a chuckle, trying not to seem as embarrassed as you actually were, “I just thought it might be nice to uh-um pay you back for the coffee!” You spoke through the world’s fakest smile.

“No!” He practically shouted at you, “I’m into it! I am definitely into it.”

Before you could catch yourself, you were giving him the biggest smile you think you’ve ever managed.

“Great!” You weren’t even trying to hide your excitement anymore, “Here, I’ll give you my number and we can try to set something up!” You said as you wrote your number down on one of the coffee shop’s napkins.

“Y-yeah! That sounds great. I’ll-uh I-I’ll call you!” He stuttered, it was becoming clear that you weren’t the only one who was nervous.

The two of you made your way out of the coffee shop, taking turns stuttering and rambling at the other. You were starting to feel less self conscious about your earlier performance because it seemed as though he had a tendency to be awkward and ramble as well.

“Well, I should probably get to work.” You sighed, not wanting the encounter to end.

“Yeah me too.” He chuckled.

The two of you just stood there for a moment, staring at each other, trying to figure out what to do next. You didn’t want to have to make another move, considering you were the one to ask him out. However, it was becoming apparent that he was too shy to do anything, so you moved closer to him. He made no effort to put any more distance between the two of you, so you took that as your go ahead. You leaned in and threw your arms around his neck, giving him a semi-awkward hug goodbye. He wrapped his arms around you and you realized that you could smell him. All those years of looking at him on TV and yet you never wondered what he might smell like. You were pleasantly surprised. Not that you thought he would smell bad, just that you were used to men who thought that Axe body spray was the same thing as a shower. But Spencer didn’t smell like that, he smelled like old books and good cologne. Like, real, expensive, good cologne.

You realized that you were lingering in the hug for a little longer than what would probably be considered normal, so you pulled away.

“Well, uh, I’ve got to get going,” He blushed and looked at his feet, “But I’ll definitely call you.” He said holding up the napkin with your number on it.

“You better!” You joked, now blushing as well.

With that, he turned and went on his way to work. You stood there for a moment longer, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You reached into your bag and pulled out your cell phone, dialing your roommate’s number. It rang twice before she picked up.

“Y/R/N, you are never going to believe what just happened!” You squealed into the phone, ready and willing to relay the story to your best friend.

You hung up as soon as you got to the office, and spent the rest of the day unable to focus on work, your brain preoccupied just praying that he would actually call you.

I'm literally obsessed w this lol lmk if you want a part 2 or anything else bc my requests are open!!

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

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bakugoyelling · 1 year

Text

We Can Take Things Slow

Aki Hayakawa x Fem! Reader

Warnings: (minors dni) 18+ smut, virgin! reader, fluff, fingering, praise

Word Count: 5.1 K

Summary: What started as a crush has bloomed into a full-on relationship, and for the first time in your life, you're ready to do more than kiss.

Out of all people, you would have never thought that he would be your boyfriend; the first time he came in, you had to force yourself to stop staring. You had only worked at the local grocery store for about six months, and while you had seen attractive people come in to shop before, you had never seen a man as handsome as him.

He was tall — with blue eyes and black hair, the dark tresses often tied atop his head. His topknot hairstyle actually made your lips quirk up into a smile the first time you saw him. The ponytail was just so small and, for lack of a better word, cute.

He didn’t go to your register that day, and although slightly disappointed, you were glad. Just looking his way made your heart rate speed up. Who knows how you would have embarrassed yourself if you had to talk to him.

The next time you saw him, he walked in with — what you assumed to be — his friends, a guy and a girl who appeared to be rather rambunctious, one rolling in on a shopping cart while the other tossed boxes of snack cakes into it. Or maybe, they’re roommates; you thought as they walked past, watching them head down the aisle as you scanned a carton of milk. You wondered if he liked milk.

He didn’t go to your register that time either — well, he almost did, but he pivoted this shopping cart at the last second and headed a lane over, even though your current customer had just checked out. He must really like waiting in line.

And every time after that, he did the same, always with that boisterous duo; he never went to you. It was such a regular occurrence you no longer felt nervous when he came in.

But at least you still got to admire him. Sure, he might be avoiding you, but he was still pretty. Handsome, just like the first time you ever saw him. Plus, there was no harm in looking at him, right? A girl’s allowed to have a crush.

Then one evening, he came in alone. Dressed in a short-sleeved button-down, he spent most of his time in the produce section, picking out fruits and vegetables before disappearing between the aisles, where you didn’t see him again until he emerged at the check-out line — your check-out line.

Placing his groceries on the conveyor belt, you stood in disbelief, the nerves you thought you had long forgotten returning.

“Hello,” with a nod, the man greeted you, his eyes looking into yours as your cheeks grew warm.

“Hi! Did you find everything okay today?”

Overly peppy, you continued, tapping a button on the cash register before you began scanning his items, trying your best to appear calm.

“I did,” he said.

For a second, your eyes met as you glanced up at him, nodding in approval as you kept scanning.

The silence that followed was awkward. Well, it was for you, at least. Time seemed to slow while you worked, and halfway through, attempting to ease the feeling, you commented on his choice of milk — your face filling with a heavy heat as soon as the phrase left your lips.

“Mmm, oat milk,”

You’re not sure what response you were expecting, but all he did was exhale an amused huff and nod at you, taking out his wallet as he prepared to pay.

Great, he totally thinks you’re weird now, you thought. The next time he comes in, he’ll definitely go back to avoiding you.

Plus, surely he’s already got a girlfriend, right? Now that you’ve seen him up close, it’s proven just how attractive he is. Maybe next time he’ll come in with her. Maybe, you’ll even get to see them kiss.

But that never happened because he didn’t have a girlfriend. He either came in with his two friends or alone. And while he didn’t always go to your line, he frequented it more often. Over time, you even got less nervous when he appeared, and your interactions grew less stiff. You even learned his name — Aki. The two syllables felt like a dream leaving your lips. Along the line, you even found out about his profession. He was a devil hunter. Not uncommon, but dangerous. You’d known people who had joined Public Safety before, and although things didn't usually end well for them, you had to stop yourself from thinking of all the terrible possibilities this could mean. At least, this explained the formal clothing he sometimes wore.

Even your coworkers started noticing that things were different. Every time Aki came in, they’d tease you, asking things like, “So, when’s the wedding?” and “Have you hooked up yet?” Their questions were lighthearted, but you refused to answer — it was fun talking about the man you admired, but they didn’t need to know everything.

That is until, months later, after a series of secret rendezvous, one of them had seen you and Aki outside of work — at a table for two at a local restaurant, where he asked for a taste of your food, and you giggled, leaning in with a pair of chopsticks to fed him. But the light kiss that followed was what really caught their attention.

So the next day, your closest work buddies threw a lunchroom celebration, where despite their playful banter, they made sure to share how happy they were for you. Your oldest friend, who’s twice your age, even mentioned that she “Could tell he was a sweet one” and “Always knew he had a crush on you,”

Her words were the highlight of your day.

Sometimes you still can’t believe you're really with him. The two of you are similar in some ways. But in a lot of ways, you aren’t. Aki smokes, and you don’t — but that’s good, he tells you. Aki enjoys drinking beer, but you’ve never liked the taste. So you sip on water most of the time. But that’s great too, he says. In fact, he should be more like you, he insists. Aki has been in a relationship before. He’s had sex — shared his naked body with someone other than himself — And you haven’t. Not even close. All you’ve done is kiss. But you haven’t told him that.

And while you shouldn't feel shame for such a thing, you do. Like when you go to his apartment and spend the night eating cereal together, honey-flavored grains swimming in oat milk.

“Hey, let’s do the crossword puzzle on the back,” you say, dipping your spoon in for another bite.

If this were a different cereal box, the game on the back would probably already be done. However, lucky for you, Power and Denji — Aki’s roommates that you met sometime back at the grocery store — keep their hands off his boxes of “grandpa food,”

Grabbing a pen, Aki hands it to you, looking on as you begin to fill out the small square boxes, lifting a finger every so often so he can point out an answer. And when the puzzle is complete — and your bowls are empty, he washes them as you get ready for bed, changing into your pajamas to wait for him in the bedroom.

Being alone with him in here makes your heart race sometimes. Although the only thing the two of you have done in here is kiss, you can’t help but think of what will happen when you tell him that's all you've ever done.

It’s only happened once before, but one time things got heated. Clearly more experienced than you, Aki's kisses grew fervent, his lips moving against yours with ease. Like the love interest in a romance movie, he moved with such seduction, his tongue brushing against your bottom lip as his hands grazed the skin beneath your shirt. Your body grew hot, and for a second, you thought of letting him undress you, but instead, you gently pulled away — kissing one last time before you left to get a cup of water.

The memory makes you feel bad in a way. You should have just told him then, explained to Aki how you didn’t push him away because of what he did, but instead because you’re a nervous virgin. Or maybe you should tell him tonight — get it over with and…

“Did you already brush your teeth?”

But his question breaks you from the idea, and as you shake your head in response, you decide, maybe next time. Besides, brushing your teeth is more important anyway.

Four weeks later, you find yourself facing the decision again.

Your relationship with Aki has even reached a new milestone — you’ve said you love him. And with the faintest blush, Aki has said he loves you too.

In fact, he said it just moments ago before you kissed him — before you straddled him on his bed and began tasting his tongue. Slowly getting comfortable, you’ve started taking the lead with things like this now. It’s fun and exciting, yet, the idea of going further still makes you nervous.

It’s not like you don’t want to go further. You do, but you’re scared. Afraid that once you tell Aki, things won’t be the same, the flame will fizzle out, and he’ll leave you. Or even worse, he’ll use you for sex, and that’ll be the end of it — a cherry-popping dream come true.

“Hey, you okay?”

Caught on to how you’ve stopped and pulled away, he questions you, studying your expression as you refuse to make eye contact.

“Aki…” you mutter his name in quiet guilt, shifting about as you decide to rip off the proverbial band-aid, your heart pounding in your chest as you timidly confess, “I’m a virgin,”

“Huh?” caught off guard, his brows pull together as you remove yourself from his lap, your eyes growing glossy as panic sets in. If he laughs right now, then it’s over.

“I’ve never done anything, okay?” you hush, wiping away at your cheek.

You'll tell everyone at work that he's a jerk.

But Aki doesn't laugh. He doesn't chuckle; he doesn't even smirk. Instead, Aki thinks. He acknowledges your reactions — figures this information must have been weighing down on you for a while, and from what he can tell, you must be worried right now. And while to him, it’s no big deal, to you, it is. So in respect of your feelings, he does what he can to comfort you.

“That’s okay,” he gently speaks. “That doesn't change how I see you,” Hoping he’s not making things worse, he continues.

“Did you think it would?”

Peering up through dampened lashes, you nod. It’s embarrassing to admit, but it’s true. Before you got into a relationship with Aki, your lack of sex was never an issue — other than the fact that you’ve never been with another person, you did plenty of sexual exploring on your own. You’ve done things that not even your friends in two-year relationships had done, knew kinks by name, and even told them what kind of toys to bring into the bedroom. You know your body, and you know what you like. You’ve just never had anyone to share it with. Being vulnerable in such a way can be scary. And while no, you don’t have to say anything about it, you feel it’s best that you do.

“That’s why I wanted to tell you…before things went any further. I just need you to know. So, we can take things slow, okay?”

Shifting closer, Aki nods before wrapping his arms around you in a comforting hug, holding the back of your head as you press yourself against him, the scent of soap heavy on his skin.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine,” he whispers. “I don’t mind taking things slow,”

In his arms, you continue to listen, his acceptance putting you at ease.

“We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready. Until you want to, alright?

In response, you nod, silently agreeing before you pull back, peering up at Aki as you wipe your eyes.

“What if I only ever want to hold hands?” you mumble.

“Then we’ll only hold hands...and I’ll still love you,” smiling down, he assures you.

Aki only wants to make you happy, and although he can’t guarantee he'll never make you sad or worried, he can promise to never make you uncomfortable.

—

“So, got any plans for the weekend?” your coworker asks from beside you, adjusting a can of corn as you reorganize the shelves before closing time.

“Actually, I do,” you say, the lilt in your voice soft as you continue working. “Aki and I are going to a new gyoza restaurant tonight. It just opened up,”

“Ooh, a date, I see? And will you be feeding him again this time?”

You give your friend the side eye, and they chuckle, the memory of when they first saw you together causing you to laugh along.

“And what if I do? Are you gonna be there watching like last time,”

“Hey, I just happened to be there,” your friend holds their hands up in defense. “It’s not my fault I caught you kissing mister topknot,” they tease. “Besides, I’ve got my own boyfriend to feed tonight,”

“Oh yeah, how is your cat, by the way?” Humored by your joke, you smile, peering over at your friend as they shake their head with a chortle. The end of your shift flies by when the two of you are together, and before you know it, the grocery store is closed for the night.

Once back home, you call Aki to let him know. Telling him that after you shower and get ready, you’ll call him back so he can pick you up.

“Alright, see you soon then. Love you,”

“Love you too, bye,” his voice carries over before hanging up, the end of the call leaving you eager to be with him again.

An hour later, he’s knocking on your door, standing outside your apartment with joy in his eyes when you open up to greet him — two overnight bags in hand.

“You ready to go?” he asks, silently admiring your features.

“Yup,” you smile as he takes your bags for you. “I’m so ready to eat too. I’ve been dreaming of this gyoza all day!”

Heading to the car, he chuckles at your enthusiasm. It sounds like tonight he won’t be getting any of your leftovers. Guess he’ll just have to order extra.

—

Four plates of fried dumplings later, the two of you have had your fill, and with the bill paid, you head back to Aki’s apartment.

“Denji and Power are out, by the way.” he mentions while unlocking the door, “But they’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, so enjoy it while you can,”

“Hey, don’t be mean,” you giggle, “I like them,”

“Yeah, yeah…”

With the place so quiet, you and Aki fall into what feels like a sense of domestic bliss — the tv on in the background providing a bit of sound as you go about helping him rid his fridge of spoiled food. It’s something he does every weekend lest he discovers a container of leftovers growing mold.

After that, he puts a load of laundry into the wash while you make a cup of tea — the last time you came over, he had a flavor you had never tried. You thought it was good, so Aki made sure to get more.

The two of you even brush your teeth together, which is nice because the minty fresh flavor of it remains once you’ve settled in bed — your upper half pressing against his as you kiss. Over and over, until the short pecks turn into your tongue running across his bottom lip, teasing him before he opens up and accepts, his hands sliding down to rest on your waistband as you pull back to catch your breath.

“Aki,” his eyes watch your kiss-swollen lips whisper his name. The warmth of your fingers resting against his jaw as he lifts his gaze.

“Yeah?”

Suddenly aware that you’re on top of him, he removes his hands from your hips — the subtle movement is a sign that he’s being cautious, your comfort always at the forefront of his mind.

“You know, I still want to take things slow,” your heart rate speeds up as he keeps his eyes on you. “And I don’t think I’m ready to go all the way yet, but,”

Now Aki’s heart is racing. He’s almost positive that he knows what you’re going to say, and he’d be lying if he said the thought of pleasing you in any way doesn't get his body aching with desire.

“Can we try something?”

Your face blooms at the question, a sense of embarrassment washing over you as your boyfriend remains silent for a second, lips parting before he places his hands back on you and nods.

“Anything you want,” he murmurs.

And while it’s difficult to ask your first real boyfriend to finger you, you do it. You probably sound like a total dork, you think, but Aki thinks you sound cute — delicate, endearing, but not the least bit innocent as you softly ask, “Will you fuck me with your fingers, please?”

The phrase sounds so vulgarly sweet; Aki has never wanted to satisfy someone's desires as much as he does yours. With your words repeating in his mind, he nods, keeping an eye on you as you move off him, settling beside him instead.

Shifting onto his side, Aki leans in to kiss you, interlocking your fingers with his as he pulls back to ask, “Are you sure about this?”

He knows you’re the one who brought it up, but he still feels the need to ask.

Your lips curve into a gentle smile as you shake your head in response, “I’m positive,” you assure him.

Aki nods once more, bringing your entwined hands up to his lips to kiss your knuckles, one by one, until he lets go and places his hand on your hip, stroking your soft skin as you peer up at him.

Caught on by his hesitance, you pull him in for a heated kiss, reassuring him even further of your request with the tracing of your tongue against his lips — the wet muscle flicking against his as you glide your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, breathing out a moan while his hand travels further down, dipping into the waistband of your shorts.

“Can I?” he mumbles, thumb tracing against the fabric.

Agreeing, you shift your hips beneath him, allowing his hand to go all the way in, your lips parting in a shaky breath as his digits slide across the front of your panties, stopping just above your clit.

You’re glad you wore such a thin pair tonight, the friction of the lacy material already feels so good, and with each light circle Aki presses against you, you can feel the fabric dampen, knowing that soon, his touch will feel even better.

As he teases you, Aki is sure to gauge your reactions. He pays attention to your movements, focusing on bringing you nothing but pleasure. And when your hips grow more fervent, when your legs spread open further, he experiments with a few words.

“Oh, you’re all nice and wet for me. Aren't you?”

His voice is so low it’s impossible to hold back the moan in your throat. No one has ever said such a thing to you. But Aki can tell you like it. The way your clit twitches is enough to indicate that.

“Will you let me see?” he asks.

You’ve never felt so needy before, eagerly nodding before he kisses your nose and leans away, settling on his knees so he can undress you. You haven't been this nervous in a while — but it's a giddy nervous, and each of Aki’s tender movements helps ease you. He’s slow, gentle, and careful of where he touches you as he kisses the swell of your knee, peering up at you while he glides his hands up your thighs. Everything he does is with your desire in mind.

The veins in his hands flex while he grabs your hips, testing the waters once more as his fingers hook onto the sides of your panties — waiting for your permission.

Aki’s hands have always been nice to you, and as you shake your head in approval, you get lost in the vision of them, admiring how they look in this intimate moment as he undresses you, his long fingers pulling down your shorts and underwear until your core is exposed.

Flustered, your knees pull together as you catch him staring, his blue eyes focused on your sex as he swallows, his lips parting while he softly speaks, “You’re absolutely perfect,”

Your breath hitches, and he kisses your thigh before adjusting himself, moving up the mattress until he’s lying beside you. This position will be more comfortable, he decides. He can please you without his gaze being too overbearing, and the closeness of your lips will make it easier to kiss as he touches you. He’s committed to making this experience a good one for you.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asks, gliding a hand across your stomach.

Nodding, you lift the hem of your shirt, muttering out a quiet “yeah” as you pull it up to reveal your tits, your nipples pebbling from both the cool air and Aki’s stare. He silently curses at how good you are at teasing, leaning in to kiss you as his calloused hand moves up to knead the soft mounds of flesh. The stimulation has you moaning, bucking your hips into the air as his thumb and forefinger pinch the sensitive skin — the slickness between your thighs increasing by the second.

“Mm, Aki,” you mutter his name between kisses, your eyes heavy-lidded as you place your hand on his, guiding it down until it rests on your pelvis.

“I know, I know,” he hushes, “I want to touch you too, just gotta make sure it feels good for you,” he kisses your cheek and then finally; lets his fingers begin to explore.

They brush past the strip of pubic hair you shaved this afternoon, slowly making their way towards your pussy lips, where his fingers dip in to gather your slick as you spread your legs for him. Having Aki touch you like this feels like heaven, and you can feel the strings of your essence separating as you open up for him. His digits circles around your entrance a few times before trailing back up, stopping mid-stroke while he gently speaks, “Oh, you’ve got the cutest little clit I've ever seen,”

The sensitive nub throbs as he makes contact with it, a whine spilling from your throat while he languidly rubs it, his fingers returning to your slit before it becomes too much — if he had kept it up, you would have come in an instant, which isn't bad, but you enjoy the build-up.

Wetting his digits some more, Aki teases your entrance, kissing just below your ear as he quietly instructs you, “Just relax for me, okay?”

Nodding your head, you take a deep breath, staring down as he continues playing with your pussy, rubbing your slick folds up and down before slowly sliding his middle finger into you. The sensation has both of you gasping. Aki because you’re so tight and warm, and you because his fingers are so much bigger than yours. They’re thicker and longer, and as the discomfort melts he begins to move.

He sinks his digit all the way in before almost pulling out, repeating the movement a few times over as your half-lidded eyes grow wide, a breathy moan falling from your lips as you adjust to the feeling.

“You okay?” your boyfriend mumbles.

“Mmhm, your fingers are just…bigger than mine,”

Endeared with the comparison, he huffs out a laugh, kissing your lips while he sinks into you once again, swallowing your mewls of pleasure as he curls his finger this time, pressing against the swelled tissue of your g-spot. It’s like discovering the area for the first time all over again, and your brows pull together as your hips buck against his hand, your legs spreading further as you grab at your tits.

“That feel good?” Aki’s voice remains low, the sticky clicks of your cunt mixing in with the sound while you earnestly nod.

“Yeah…” you whimper, slack-jawed as you whimper on.“Yeah…I want more,” you plead, your lust-filled gaze meeting his while you desperately shift your hips.

You may not know it. You may not even be trying, but through each passing second, through each soft phrase, Aki grows more and more captivated in pleasing you — and knowing that he’ll soon be the reason behind your erotic gratification; has him happy to oblige.

He pumps his middle finger into you a few more times before he pulls it out, tracing along your clenching little pussy while he eases it back into you, his ring finger joining in this time as you breathlessly curse. His digits are so much thicker than yours, longer too. You think this feels good when you do it yourself, but having Aki finger you feels even better. Unrestricted as to how far your wrist can twist, this new angle allows you to feel things deeper, granting you a new level of satisfaction you could never give yourself.

When he feels your walls relax again, Aki begins building the movement of his fingers, pumping the two digits at a steadying pace as he kisses you, trailing his lips down your neck and across your chest. Grazing your nipple, his tongue laps at the bud as he curves his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot. In search of repetition, your hips jolt into his touch, your cunt clamping down as Aki adjusts himself, “Gonna go a little faster now, alright?” he says, sliding his body further down for better reach. Slick with arousal, you’re taken aback by how easily he’s able to speed up his digits, your head thrown back in a heady groan as your pleasure elevates to another height, the sticky sounds of your cunt growing as Aki works his wrist, his palm brushing against your clit every so often.

Cute and high-pitched, your whines are intoxicating to him, swallowing them up between kisses while his fingers stroke your walls.

Your heavy lids make it difficult to keep your eyes open, but even in your lust-filled daze, you make it a priority to drop your chin and take a peek, to watch as your boyfriend fucks you with his fingers. So wet from your pussy, his hand glistens before you, your face flooding with warmth as you whimper his name, “Ah-Aki, Aki,”

You’re close; you can feel it — building up with every thrust of his fingers — with every graze of his heavy palm against your clit. Your skin is heating up, and your hips are jerking, grinding against him in search of more. Just a bit more of that pressure, and you’ll be falling past the edge.

Observant, Aki catches the way your swollen bud twitches and quickens his pace, rapidly pumping his fingers as you clench around him, the sloppy sound mixing in with your cries of ecstasy as he pushes all the way in, his palm grazing your clit as his fingers curl into the spot that has you keening. Repeating the motion, he watches your brows pull together as you shift your stare, meeting his gaze before he presses his forehead against yours. The fading mint of his breath fanning across your lips while he whispers, “You gonna cum for me?”

Your breath hitches as he pushes the heel of his hand towards you, the calloused skin rubbing against your sensitive nub while you press your knees together, trapping his hand in place while your brows crease, urgently nodding your head in admission.

“Yeah?” Aki gives his own little nod while continuing to work his fingers, hitting the spongy spot in the back of your cunt as you struggle to speak.

“Y-yes, yes fuck, please, ohh –” your words cut off into a drawn-out sob, your stomach clenching as you squeeze your thighs together, your body twitching while you dissolve into pleasure with Aki for the very first time — the reality of it all making your walls tighten around his digits even harder, soaking them in your essence as he works you through orgasm.

The sensation has Aki’s mouth falling open, feeling your pussy squeeze his fingers as you curve into his touch, keening through the incredible high while you melt into him. Your shattered breaths catch on the tip of his tongue as he kisses you, tangling his wet muscle with yours — swallowing the moans that escape you.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Aki whispers against your lips as your clit throbs, his palm pushing down on the swollen nub, causing you to twitch in place while your climax begins to fade. As you relax, his fingers slow their pace, your body slumping into his as your heavy breaths grow steady, your half-lidded eyes catching sight of his digits pulling out of you.

You sigh as they leave you, your cunt squeezing around nothing as you hear your boyfriend mutter out a quiet “Fuck…” — Enamored with how you leak for him, how you’ve coated his thick digits in the creamy white of your pussy. How you’ve allowed him to share such an experience with you.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he says as you lie back. The endearment has you lazily smiling, his lips pressing against the damp skin of your forehead.

“So perfect,” he repeats between kisses, tilting your chin to peck your lips.

A dreamy haze surrounds him as he stares down at you — your lower half still exposed as you peer into those beautiful cerulean eyes of his, thoughtlessly murmuring out loud, “So, do I have to give you a handjob now?”

The enchanting clouds dissipate as you realize what you've said, the apples of your cheeks growing warm as Aki's face goes blank — a tinge of regret traveling down your spine for even asking the question.

“Well, do you want to?” He calmly replies as you continue to look up at him, searching his gaze while you swallow the words caught in your throat. As much as you desire Aki — as much as you want to have him fall apart because of you; you’re not ready. At least, not tonight.

Prepared to see disappointment spread across his features, you silently shake your head, declining with a nodded no. But to your relief, Aki responds with an affirming smile.

“Then no, you don’t have to,” he says, “We can save that for some other time,”

“Are you sure?”

Kissing the top of your head, he nods, pulling back to assure you once again, “I’m positive,” he replies.

Not until you're ready.

— please do not modify or repost my work

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A/N: Aki is so boyfriend :') he's got such nice hands too Heheh, thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, let me know! Kind comments are always appreciated ♡♡♡

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

#aki hayakawa x reader #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #aki hayakawa smut #csm smut #aki x reader #☁️csm #💗aki #🌹spicy stuff #m.writes #mp

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR THREE

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 3.7k+

→ a/n: quick question - would you guys like me to include chapter summaries at the beginning of each chapter? is that a thing we'd like lol? lemme know! quick edit: totally forgot to thank @boomhauer for the genius idea of the flip phone!!

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

3:00 ──ㅇ──────────────── 24:00

HOUR THREE - 6:00 PM

The pounding on the door is frenetic, nonstop as you stand and make no move to unlock it. It doesn’t take long before Eddie starts to beg.

He tries to repeatedly say your name at first, over and over, voice pathetic and cracking by the seventh time.

“Just open the door!” he finally shouts in frustration, “I- It’s- Those are private!”

You look down at the open spread once more, shaking your head, the deviant smile never once leaving your face. “What’s the magic word?”

“Magic word? I- Jesus Christ, you’re fucking impossible!”

“Sorry,” you say, taking a few steps closer to the door, “‘Fraid it’s none of those.”

The same thumping from before sounds as Eddie sighs deeply enough for you to hear, and you realize he’s lightly banging his forehead against the door now.

You start to feel bad, honestly. It was an invasion of his privacy, and if the roles were reversed, you’d be fuming. Kindness wasn’t something you offered to the likes of Eddie, and if he had ever locked you out of your own bedroom and raided your own stash of personal porn, you’d be downright hateful.

But then you remember his words.

“Why my friends are so enamored with you, I will never understand.”

Maybe he deserves this. Maybe he deserves all the hatefulness and spitefulness you can manage.

The two sides of your brain bicker, and Eddie continues to thump his head against the door. It’s a losing battle as the kinder part of you wins over.

You take a step closer to the door, until the wood is all that separates the two of you, “Try again.”

Your voice is softer and gentler, and not quite as teasing.

The banging ceases.

He doesn’t speak for a few moments and you begin to worry that he walked away. That this latest game of cat and mouse has ended, that he’s decided you aren’t worth the trouble. You don’t understand the pang in your chest at the idea – it’s not like this was supposed to be fun. Arguing with Eddie was something that ruined your day, that always strung out your last nerves and led to you grinding your teeth in your sleep. He had just shot to kill with his words to you; you shouldn’t be on the other side of a wooden door with a fickle spark of hope that he’s still waiting for you.

“Please,” he says in monotone, almost a hint of pain as if to spit the word out was like pulling blood from stone.

The spark of hope vanishes just as quickly as it had appeared. Already forgotten.

You open the door reluctantly, still gripping the open and curled magazine in your fist, “The magic word was sorry.”

He wasn’t expecting you to give up so quickly, clear as his head snaps up and he looks over you with genuine shock.

“Sorry?” he echoes, “You’re the one who stormed my room and stole my… magazine.”

“And I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t such an asshole.”

His eyebrows disappear behind his disheveled bangs. “Because I said that I… I wouldn’t care if you disappeared?”

It’s more than that. You both know it. He says it with restraint, he pauses because he knows that that wasn’t the comment that struck you hardest.

“I’m sorry,” he swallows his pride with surprising ease, straightening up, “I assumed the feeling was mutual.”

“Well, it’s not.”

“You wouldn’t celebrate my death?”

There it was. You’re surprised he’s even willing to repeat the words. Acknowledging them is the first step, you suppose.

You want to say no, but instead settle on, “I wouldn’t tell you to your face.”

You wouldn’t even think it to begin with. Because while Eddie was awful to you, he wasn’t a bad person. You’d seen his ability to play nice with others, to treat others with the respect that they deserved. For some odd reason, you were the only exception when it came to him. Even the strangers that he’d keep up a brooding act with had never met the sharpness of his tongue when he was within proximity to you.

He opens his mouth, but you don’t think you can stomach an insincere apology, so you lift the magazine into both your views instead, “Whatever. It’s water under the bridge. I’m far more intrigued by this now.”

The moment he catches sight of the laminated photo, his expression goes from something similar to remorse to a full-fledged blush. Eddie Munson is blushing because you’re holding his Playboy magazine.

His hand shoots out for it, but you’re faster than him, pulling it out of his reach with ease, “Nope! Not so fast, Munson.”

“Give that bac-” he starts with ardent desperation, following you with each step back you take.

You shake your head and hide the magazine behind your back, “Over my dead body.”

He goes rigid, as if it reminds him of his cruel words, before his efforts double. There’s no hesitation in occupying your space as he begins to reach behind you to snatch back the private item.

You’re not quite sure how it happens. It’s a quick succession of mistakes made on both of your parts; he’s grown too determined to get the Playboy back in his grasp, and your mind is solely focused on keeping it away from him. You don’t notice the way your two bodies shuffle farther into the room as you struggle with him. You don’t notice when your knees hit the edge of his mattress. Neither of you do.

Not until it’s too late.

One moment, you’re standing upright and Eddie’s arms are wrapping around you. The next, your back is connecting with soft sheets that erupt in the scent of boy upon impact, the entirety of Eddie’s weight now on top of you with a hand trapped beneath your lower back.

He lets out a soft oof directly into your chest.

Directly into your boobs.

Both of you freeze, unsure of what to do. The magazine has fallen to your side, opening to a different marked page, but you can’t even turn your head to properly see it.

The warmth of him suffocates you, twisting your gut as it sinks into your skin. You can feel his heartbeat drumming in his ribcage against your own. Racing, racing, racing. Just like your own.

“Get off me,” you grunt, shoving at his shoulders to roll him off of you, the closeness suddenly too much. If you two stay this way a second long, you’re sure you may die.

As he does lift off of you, still looking aghast, his hand remains pinned against your back. Your shirt had ridden up ever so slightly, a sliver of skin exposed that his palm brushes. It sends shockwaves up your spine.

Without his weight caging you in, you’re quick to leap back onto your feet, away from him and away from his touch. Your movement must break whatever spell of embarrassment he had been lost in, because Eddie is just as quick as he searches for the Playboy and grabs it so roughly the pages might rip.

You catch a glimpse of the second marked page. The similarities remain. It could have been the same model, for all you know.

You tell yourself that that’s what it is. It’s not a matter of the model looking like you. Eddie just has a thing for that specific model. It’s all left to chance that you share similar features, that the plush of her thighs resemble yours and that your hips follow the same curve as hers. It’s a coincidence.

“I can’t believe yo-” you begin to chastise him, chest heaving still as you glare down at him. It must be a residual symptom of anger, of shock. The way your heart hammers is out of contempt. It has to be.

He cuts you off, “That was not my fault.”

“You were being an…. a….” you falter. You can’t think straight.

“An asshole?” he supplies, sitting up now and looking at you with expectancy.

Why was it so hard to find your words? This was a dance you’d done a thousand times before with Eddie – the fighting, the bickering, the hurting of feelings and the absence of genuine apologies. What changed?

His body against yours. The brush of his breath on your chest. His weight firm between your-

You cut off the ridiculous thoughts and focus on him, “Yes. You were an asshole.”

He scoffs, “Yeah, well, you’ve already mentioned that. Next time, don’t go through my shit.”

If you weren’t still recovering, you’d bring up the model looking like you. If you were in your right mind, you’d take that gift from the Universe and put it to good use, sending the dagger straight into his back.

But your mind has gone hazy for the time being. It swirls with hesitancy and confusion and why the fuck weren’t you laying it into him right now? Where the fuck were you usual words of viciousness?

“If you’re done staring me down with evil eyes,” he sighs and nods to the clock, “Nancy said we have to send a picture this hour. Or no cash, bet’s off.”

At first, you’re beyond belief he can brush past it all so easily. It’s damning that it’s only affecting you so vehemently. But then you take a moment to glance over him, to really look at the boy sat on the bed before you.

He’s still blushing, violently so. Rosey cheeks and red nose, his neck aflame with the evidence that he’s not brushing it off. He’s avoiding it. He’s avoiding talking about the magazine, just as he’s avoiding talking about the position the two of you had just been in, just as he avoided apologizing for cruel words spoken so casually. Eddie Munson is avoidant to a dangerous degree.

“Okay,” you finally supply in defeat. Even if he wasn’t avoiding the topics, what is there to say?

Oh, hey. I can’t fucking think straight because that’s the closest we’ve ever been after a year of hating each other, and I have no idea why. Care to explain?

He stands and moves out of the room, down the hallway, to the living room. He doesn’t even check to make sure you follow. You have to pause to grab your phone off of the ground before you’re speedwalking to catch up with him.

It’s stupid. It’s stupid and ridiculous.

“So how are we doing this?” he asks once you’re both in the living room. He’s already sitting down on the end of the couch that he’d taken to the first few hours, looking everywhere but you. “Do we just, like, send a photo? Do we take separate photos?”

“They want a selfie,” you inform him as if he hadn’t been in the room during all of the discussions of the limitations of this bet. As if he hadn’t encouraged it, even.

He nods to your phone clutched in your sweaty palm, “Let’s get it over with, then.”

“Remind me again why it has to be my phone?” you question, deciding to sit on the opposite end of the couch. As long as you both were visible in the photo, it should be fine. “You have a phone, too. I know you do - Nancy called you.”

“I do have a phone,” he nods, watching as you unlock your cell and tap until you’ve opened the camera app, “It’s just not a smart phone.”

You stop all actions, looking up from where you’d just flipped to the front camera setting, “What?”

“I don’t have a smart ph-”

“I heard what you said. What the fuck do you have then? Do you just communicate with two tin cans and a string?”

He rolls his eyes, but his hand is still moving to his pocket, tugging out a small flip phone, “No, I just have a phone.”

It’s black and shiny, downright tiny as it sits carefully in the palm of his hand on show for you. You have to bite back your laughter.

“Oh my God. Why do you have a flip phone? Jesus Christ, what year is it?”

“Fuck off,” he quips, fingers curling around the phone protectively, “I just… I don’t like all the technology and shit. It can get overwhelming, but this?” he holds up the phone for emphasis, gripping it loosely between his pointer finger and thumb as he waves it around, “This is simple. This doesn’t need a new update every week, or to be replaced every year for the shiniest model, or-”

You reach over and snatch the phone from him, and his hand is still frozen in midair, fingers still pinched from where they’d held the phone, “Oh, what’s this? I think it’s ringing. Let me get that for you,” you dramatically flip the phone open, taking some glee in the nostalgic action before bringing the phone up to your ear and humming tauntingly. Eddie still makes no move to stop you, face contorting in bitter amusement at your unexpected antics, “Yeah? Uh huh, okay. I’ll tell him,” it’s even more fun than you remember to snap the phone shut with one hand. It almost has you reconsidering joining Eddie’s anti-technology cause. You face him and try to pull a straight face, but you can’t help laughing at your own joke before you even finish it, “It was the early 2000’s. They’re calling because they want their prehistoric technology back.”

You’re giggling at yourself as Eddie sucks in a deep breath. He’s about to break, you know he is. The corners of his mouth are twitching terribly, so you go in for the kill. Not the type of kill you had expected to be delivering tonight, but a kill all the same.

“Also, I had to put the 80’s on hold. I think they’re calling to ask for their hair back,” you nod towards his dark curls, wild and frizzy around his face.

That’s all it takes for him to break. Right before your eyes, the stoic and cold front that Eddie Munson had put up crumbles. A smile breaks out across his lips, slowly spreading as he shakes his head and his shoulders shake with the effort to withhold any actual laughs from escaping him.

He has dimples. You’d never noticed that before.

“Fuck off,” he says with a voice still wavering from unheard laughter. You can’t recall a single time before in which he’d said those words to you in such a lighthearted tone.

“I’m serious,” you press on, still caught up on his dimples, “I think it might be Jon Bon Jovi himself!”

He snorts. The battle against the laughter is lost as the apartment fills with your childish giggles.

“My hair is way better than that old assh-” he’s cut off by the sudden buzzing from your phone on the couch. It effectively shatters whatever resemblance of a moment the two of you were having, and you push back the disappointment at that.

If it hadn’t been the phone, it would have been something else: jokes taken too far, insults tossed out carelessly, one of you remembering that you shouldn’t be joking around this way. You shouldn’t be joking around friends.

You glance down at your screen and the notifications that have begun to roll in.

STEVE-O: you guys have a minute before you both owe me $500

ROBIN 🐦: and me!

STEVE-O: and robin

“Who is it?” Eddie asks, leaning over to grab at your phone. Similar to how you had done to him with the magazine, you throw your hand out of his reach, narrowing your eyes in his direction. Unlike with the magazine, he doesn’t make a move to grab it. He keeps as much space between the two of you as possible.

“Excuse you,” you huff, glancing back down at the group message, preparing to take the quick photo and send it off.

“What? You can steal my phone but I can’t steal yours?” he questions, almost whines.

You glance at him, thumbs still hovering over the keyboard, “It was Steve. There, now you don’t need to steal my phone.”

“Let me respond to him,” he simply makes grabby hands this time, not reaching into your personal space.

“No.”

“Oh, c’mon.”

“Maybe you should have a smart phone like the rest of us so you could be part of the group chat.”

“You guys have a fucking group chat?”

“Yeah, without you.”

If it hurts his feelings, he doesn’t let it show. He simply pouts in his corner of the couch.

You’re about to swipe up, hit the camera icon and get the photo over with, but Eddie interrupts again.

“C’mon, just real quick. I just have something to say to Steve.”

He’s holding out his palm again. Another buzz of your phone, surely another text from Steve.

You don’t know why you do it. But you succumb. You take a leap of faith, and you reach out to drop your phone into Eddie Munson’s waiting hand.

Once it’s in his grasp, he wastes no time to bring it in close to him. For someone who has a goddamn flip phone, he’s quick with his thumbs, typing out whatever message he had been so desperate to send with ease. You don’t notice that you’ve scooted closer to watch him over his shoulder until he’s hitting send.

Patience, Harrington. We’re just trying to find my good angle. - E

“E?” you snort, “God, first the flip phone, now the cryptic messages. You’re either a serial killer or a drug dealer.”

He only flips you off as he hands back the phone.

Finally, finally, you’re able to open the camera app without interruption, stretching your arm out as you turn your back to Eddie and move your hand until you’re both in frame. Eddie keeps his middle finger held high and forces a scowl onto his face. You huff out, trying to not appear entertained before you flash a half-assed smile and thumbs up.

If the two of you were friends, it’d be a cute photo.

But you’re not, and as you hit send in the groupchat, providing them with the proof they so desperately crave, you consider deleting the photo. What use will it serve you after tonight?

You should probably delete the photo, but you don’t.

“Don’t look so overjoyed over there,” you comment as you finally lock your phone upon seeing the photo successfully sent, “You look miserable.”

“I am miserable.”

“You weren’t, like, ten seconds ago,” you’re quick to point out, discarding the smartphone onto his coffee table and facing him once more. You’re closer than before, “You were actually laughing at my jokes. It’s okay to admit I’m funny, y’know?”

You should probably scoot back over and put the distance back between the two of you, but you don’t.

“You were funny once,” he puts severe emphasis on the once, “That’s a rare occasion for you, sweetheart.”

There’s something different in the way he enunciated the nickname this time. He doesn’t sound out each syllable with the purpose of annoying you, and instead it seems to slip effortlessly off his tongue. You try to not think too much of it.

“Bullshit,” you shake your head and refuse to believe, only because you have proof to back your words up, “I’ve seen you laugh at my jokes when we’re out with everyone. You do this stupid thing when you start to laugh, and then you cough into your fist like you’re trying to cover it up. And everyone knows it’s not a real cough because when you really cough, you cover it with your elbow like a normal person.”

You probably shouldn’t take so much notice of his mannerisms, but you do.

To emphasize your point, you bring your arm to wrap around your head as if you were coughing, “Like this. Like… Like Dracula or something.”

He simply stares, one eyebrow slightly raised as he watches you. Normally, you’d interpret look as unimpressed. But something tugs in your chest, and you nearly convince yourself that he’s watching you with mirth.

“Oh, come on! Stop staring at me like I’m the giant nerd here for referencing a vampire everyone knows,” you complain, finally scooting under the burn of his gaze.

“You’re not a giant nerd,” he corrects, and it almost seems as if his mouth is working faster than his brain as he continues, “You’re a fucking dork.”

He lets the word hang heavy between the two of you. Dork. A stranger might find it to be dripping in adorement, all because they don’t know better. But you know better, and you know it can’t possibly be dripping of anything. It’s dry. It’s nothing.

“I’m a dork?” you counter, “You’re the one with an action figure of Gandalf the Great in your living room.”

“Oh, so you know who Gandalf is? Maybe you are a nerd.”

The dimples are back. This time, you try to not stare at them, to now acknowledge their existence. Because every time you do, you think of his hand passing over that sliver of skin on your lower back. Because every time you do, you remember the time when you thought there was hope for you and Eddie to be friends.

For a moment, it’s been easy. The banter has been friendly between the two of you, and if you close your eyes, you could pretend you’re having just another night in with Steve or Robin. Another day of sitting in Nancy’s living room as she asks for your opinions on her latest articles or another afternoon of smoking with Argyle. If you close your eyes, it’s not Eddie you’re here with, it’s a friend.

The realization seems to hit the two of you at the exact same time. All the merriment of the banter drains out of both of you. Eddie clears his throat, and you scoot back to your original placement on the couch.

You’re not here with a friend. You’re here with Eddie, the boy who has gone out of his way to make you miserable at every chance he’s offered. Eddie, the boy who’s made you cry twice now.

You probably shouldn’t still cling to the what-could-have-beens of a friendship with Eddie that had long since been buried, but you do.

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#twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #i learned a lot about taglists this time around lol #didn't double check formatting bear with me

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hyufucks · 9 months

Text

STARBOY .ᐟ

★ STARRINGS: choi yeonjun and fem!reader. ft choi soobin

! cw – jealousy, possessiveness, yeonjun is aggressive, fingering, unp. sex.

playlist while your read this (click on 'playlist')

2ND PART OF HOW MANY SECRETS CAN U KEEP?

yeonjun's lifestyle is not the typical cliche where he's a bad boy and his life depend on fucking every girl and living from party to party (the latter may have been a bit cliche, but trust me, he dosen't go out every weekend).

you know his reputation, and you know it all too well.

you know he's a top student with outstanding grades, a star athlete, the favourite of the teachers and, above all: a jealous boy.

he has a thing about being the centre of attention, your centre of attention. if you're not with him, if you're not seeing him, if you're not talking exclusively about him and how hot he is, he'll get jealous (too much, i'd say).

several times you met his dark eyes and chilling gaze, almost so sharp that he would effortlessly slit your jugular for the simple fact that you were talking to a boy other than him.

he can't stand not being the starboy, a nickname that echoes through the hallways and teacher's room, but which he only prefers to hear from you.

but what he hates the most is seeing you next to choi soobin: his rival.

soobin is a friendly, smart, shy and funny guy. you don't understand why yeonjun hates him so much and why he wants to keep you away from him all over the coast.

but yeonjun knows things that you might not, and maybe those things are the reasons why he spits shit at soobin.

right?

yeonjun's soft kisses on your neck made you lose your sanity, his cold hands provoking a thousand sensations on your warm skin as he caressed your thighs and waist. his fingers nimbly unbuttoned the buttons of your shorts, and just as he was about to remove your underwear, your phone started ringing.

you reluctantly pushed the dark haired guy away to pick up your phone, quickly sitting up in bed when you saw who was calling you.

'who the fuck is calling you?' your partner asked, somewhat annoyed that you had interrupted what you were about to do.

'oh, it's soobin. i'm supposed to do investigation work with him, remember?' you said with total impunity, as if you had completely forgotten yeonjun's feelings for the poor blond boy.

you saw him tense his jaw and close his eyes as soon as he heard his name leave your lips 'why are you doing it with him? weren't there other options at that stupid hippie college?'

you laughed before quickly picking up the phone, motioning yeonjun to silence.

'hi! soobin, it's so good to hear your voice again' you looked at the dark haired, looking provocation.

and you've done it, because never in your life have you seen him settle between your legs so quickly, taking off your underwear and looking at you like a ferocious animal stalking his prey.

'yes, hello, i say the same thing' his soft voice provoked a certain tenderness in you, unlike yeonjun who's voice only made you wet.

oh, and speaking of the king of rome; his fingers didn't miss the opportunity to caress your clitoris in a circular way. you saw him wet his fingers with his own saliva before inserting two of them into your sweet spot.

you muffled a moan, but it was useless as the boy on the other the line quickly noticed that something was wrong.

'hey, are you okay?' he asked confused and somewhat worried 'i thought i heard something' how cute.

yeonjun brought his face closer to your neck, biting and sucking gently 'put him on speaker' he said with his characteristic deep voice when he was in that mood.

and of course you did it.

'y-yeah, it's just that i'm a little shaken up from today's practice, you know, cheerleading stuff' you lied mercifully, because clearly you wouldn't say that there's a guy fingering you and that guy just happens to be choi yeonjun.

'on a saturday at ten at night?' you heard him laugh softly. looks like he's caught you red handed 'anyway, 'i wanted to know if we could get together monday morning to discuss about the work'.

'of course, at my house or at yours?'

'in mine. it's closer to your college, so i could take-' you couldn't hear him finish. yeonjun took your phone and ended the call suddenly, throwing it angrily on the bed.

before you could say anything to him, he grabbed your wrists with both hands and pushed them over your head, pressing his body closer to yours, preventing you from moving.

'what the fuck do you think you're doing?' you've seen him angry before, but he never got physical like now.

'what are you talking about? he just wants to be nice' he clicked his tongue and sighed heavily.

'yes, of course, and i was born yesterday' he replied with notorious sarcasm 'for you that's being nice, but for me that means he wants to fuck you in his flat and in his damn car'.

you widened your eyes in surprise and almost shocked, feeling a pressure in your chest that you had never experienced with him before.

'what the hell is wrong with you, yeonjun? you can't just think the worst of others. not everyone wants to wet their dick like you'.

'and you can't always think the best of others and believe that i'm the only one who wants to push you against the mattress, damn it' he spat angrily.

he quickly released you and moved away from you, walking away from your bed, walking out of the room. you got up and followed him to the front door.

'where do you think you're going?' you asked behind him, placing a hand on the door.

'finish this on your own, maybe thinking about soobin will help you cum quickly' he pushed you almost roughly and left your flat, slamming the door shut.

'damn son of a bitch'.

almost a week since you and yeonjun last saw each other. you only exchanged glances in the hallways. sometimes you would see him train secretly, and you knew that he did it too.

but no one dared to approach.

throughout that week, you were with soobin and practicing tonight's performance together with your team. tonight, yeonjun and soobin were going to play on different teams.

and you were just afraid.

you looked in the toillet mirror one last time before heading out to the basketball hall, noticing that your ribbon was scruffy and your lipstick was not applied correctly.

the sound of the door opening and the familiar voice caused you to jump a little in place.

'what do you want, choi yeonjun?' you asked without even looking at him at all, you only saw his body resting comfortably on the cubicle doors in the mirror, arms crossed and with that gigantic smile of a mischievous cat.

he looks so attractive like that, that for a moment you forgot what an idiot he is.

'i just wanted to know if you were going to cheer for me tonight' he replied calmly, moving closer to you.

'and what if i don't? are you going to corner me like that day?'

he bit his lips lightly and then licked it. his big hands took your waist and he forced you to turn around, being face to face.

'come on, doll, we can't spend our whole lives pretending we don't exist'

he leaned down to your neck and placed little kisses there, just the way you always liked 'you're so hot when you're angry'.

you sighed and leaned your neck to give him better access, surrendering to him and his charms.

his lips touched yours, joining in a needy, hungry kiss. your hands tugged at his hair, making him moan against your mouth.

he lifted you over the sink and you quickly wrapped your legs around him, feeling the bulge of him pressing against your pussy.

you moved as best you could, trying to create friction between you and him. yeonjun laughed in between the kiss.

'you're itching to fuck already, mmh?' you nodded 'ask me and i'll grant you the wish'.

you squeezed your eyes and sighed 'please, fuck me'.

he laughed again against your lips 'wish granted'.

you gasped when he practically ripped off your underwear and pulled you even closer to him. he removed his shorts and boxer, stroked his base a few times before fully entering and thrusting inside of you with a single thrust.

you heard him moan in relief once he hit rock bottom 'god, i missed this pussy so much'.

you leaned back a bit, touching your back against the mirror. you grabbed his hair again and pulled him close to you, connecting your lips against his.

you bit his lip as his fingers moved in a circular motion over your clit, pushing three fingers inside.

kisses distributed on your collarbones and chest almost make you explode.

the way he would go in and out would drive you crazy, how he would go deep and then not.

yeonjun held you tightly, hugging his body to yours. that is what definitely made you start moving desperately, chasing your orgasm.

'aw, are you about to cum?' he gently caressed your cheek as if you were an adorable little animal 'tell me, did you cum thinking about that idiot the other day?'

you denied 'no, i thought of you'.

he half smile, satisfied with your answer 'who makes you cum?'

'you' muttered.

'say it louder' he grabbed you again and pushed himself hard 'I'm not listening, baby'.

'you' another push 'you' another one 'god, you'.

and you clung to him as if your life depended on it, moaning in his ear, feeling safe.

as it has always been.

the heavy eddies and knots appeared, the approaching heat and the familiar feeling in your belly took you over.

and he kissed you like he never did before.

and you felt something you had never felt before.

he hugged you tenderly and you could feel his heart beating like you had never heard it before, smelling his perfume in a new way and from a different point of view.

and when he moved away, you were already missing him.

'make yourself pretty, but not so cute because you're going to distract me' he laughed coquettishly, winking at you before leaving.

another time you would have rolled your eyes, but this time your heart jumped and your cheeks turned pink and filled with an unknown felling.

you also went out into the hallway and saw him leave, turning his back on you.

from not-so distant you heard his faithful devotees who were waiting for him, who received him with his characteristic nickname and insane applause,

starboy, starboy, starboy!

and you just smiled, knowing that that name would never be the same for him if you weren't the one who told him.

and you knew that it will never change.

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emeraldborealis · 3 months

Text

You Never Left

Pairing: Captain John 'Soap' MacTavish x GN!reader

TW//CW: Angst, mention of torture, reader is held captive, blood, hallucinations, gender neutral pronouns but use of lass/lassie, no use of y/n, my attempts of writing a Scottish accent.

A/N: My first time writing COD, an entry for @glitterypirateduck 's SoapItUp challenge.

Prompts used: 14. I've been looking for you. 10. I won't let anything happen to you. 20. Just a little more. 11. I'll take care of you.

Part Two

Words: 2,490

The fan blades incessantly spun above you, cutting out the only source of light in the room, plunging you into total darkness before bathing you in blinding light over and over again, moving at a speed that your eyes could never fully adjust to the light or the darkness.

It was proving to slowly drive you insane. A way to keep your senses constantly disoriented.

You'd lost track of how long you'd been stuck here, sometimes unsure if you were even still alive or if even the grim reaper had forgotten to come collect you.

The only indicator you had that you were even still a person was the cool metal of the chair you were tied to, and the grounding pain of the rope tied too tight biting into your raw wrists.

Pain, constant pain of some kind was all you could even feel.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, it was a simple recon mission, supposed to have been an in and out thing, but everything had gone horribly wrong, bad mission intel, and trusted the wrong sources.

And when push came to shove you were left behind to save the rest of the team, a necessary loss.

The sound of footsteps approaching didn't elicit fear in you like it had once, it was nothing but the announcement of more pain.

It didn't matter anymore, eventually you'd die from the beatings, the dehydration, the starvation, the rats were placing bets on which would come first so they could nibble on your corpse, waste not want not.

A tingling sensation ran up your spine at the sound of the heavy metal door creaking open, two men walking in.

"C'mon lass, chin up. Don't give them the satisfaction of ye giving up." A familiar phantom of a voice rang in your ears, but he wasn't here. Not really. Still, the echo of falsities gave you strength. The desperation to truly hear that voice again.

"Not dead yet, are we?" A forceful grip grabbed your chin, tilting your head up. The sudden movement puts spots in your vision, the taste of blood strong in your throat and mouth. "Hand me that rag." Your captor spoke to his companion, who quickly supplied the rag.

"Here you go sir." You didn't recognize this man, he was younger, probably new, fresh out of whatever training a terrorist group like this gives their soldiers.

"Let's get you cleaned up, your soft face is being obstructed by all this blood of yours." Your captor spit on the rag and got to work roughly wiping under your broken nose, making you wince. "Hush, I'm taking good care of you, if you handle this well maybe I'll even reset your nose properly."

You didn't say anything, you didn't have anything to say. You knew the routine, he'd come in here, beat you within an inch of your life, leave you for a few days then come back acting sweet, just to clean you up in the roughest way possible.

"Sir, why do we even keep them?" The new guy asked a bit meekly, blinking his eyes weirdly, clearly getting annoyed by the fan blades too.

"Just what the higher ups want, they think they have intel. So don't question it." He hissed at the younger boy, rubbing with the scratchy dirty rag at a cut on your cheek, somewhere the skin had split open from one of his punches. The bone was probably fractured, it definitely needed stitches or butterfly bandages.

You had to fight yourself from blacking out, the pain almost blinding with the way he was assaulting already searing wounds. "Stay wi' me." John urged, his voice nothing short of a command, spoken in his harsh captain voice.

"This is your own fault, remember that. If you hadn't tried to escape, things would be better for you right now." Your captor taunted you, holding your cheek and rubbing your cut with his calloused thumb, picking away any remaining scabbing the rag didn't remove to keep you bleeding.

Keep the wound from healing and closing.

Truthfully it was foolish to try and escape, the echoes of the memory replaying in your mind like a drum, the patter of your bare feet running on the cold harsh ground of the hallways, not knowing where to even run, which way was the exit, relying solely on the voice of John guiding you.

"No' that way." He'd warned, the strange shadow of him blocking the way down a hallway. "Go that way." He'd pointed another way, and you'd followed, listened.

Each step you took sent another wave of pain through you, but you'd persisted. "Stop." John spoke directly into your ear, making you halt, hearing a set of footsteps you previously hadn't before.

They were coming your way, you couldn't turn around. You were out of options. "Run, go. Noo." And you'd listened, putting every ounce of yourself into your shaky sore legs, running like mad in the way you'd hoped was the exit.

And it was.

You'd made it an entirety of five steps out and away before being tackled and dragged back inside, you'd screamed your vocal cords to shreds, screamed until you'd tasted iron in your lungs. But the pain in your throat didn't compare to the punishment you'd gotten for your attempt of escape.

"Where did you think you'd go? I mean really. Your team left you a long time ago, remember? They abandoned you, saw you as less than and tried to save themselves. They aren't ever going to come back for you. You're going to die here." Your captor reminded you, patting your head, snapping you back to the present.

Maybe he was right, you were going to die here. They weren't coming back for you. You were never going to make it out of here. You knew that from the beginning.

But yet you kept pushing, being told to hold on, being called back from the brink of death by the only ounce of hope you had left, your Johnny. He'd shown up at some point after your capture, probably the result of one too many punches to your fragile face.

"We'll be back later, try and think real hard about what we want from you, if you just tell us what we want, I promise to make your end painless, no more of this. You won't have to see my face again." Your captor pulled away, proposing the idea of death as a tender mercy. Maybe it would be. "Remember who left you here, loyalty means nothing when they're the reason you're here."

He made a point, but even still. You wouldn't talk, because they never really left you. John- Johnny, was still here with you.

Dozing off events from your early capture would replay in your mind, the bumpy blind rides you'd been on with a sack over your head, being moved locations several times before ending up in what your captor liked to call your 'tomb'.

You didn't know how long it was waiting for your captor to come back, hours, maybe days. He liked to leave you in anticipation.

But he never came back.

The sounds of gunfire and explosions sounded like nothing but another distant memory.

The sound of the heavy metal door creaking open would always bring a chill up your spine, something trained and beaten into you, to fear that sound.

You didn't care to look up, too much exhaustion and dehydration weighing your head down, you knew who it was. He'd move your head for you to force you to look at him. "I've been looking fur ye."

The sound of his voice, his actual voice, brought your bloodshot eyes to wander up to the door, landing on your captain who was already directly in front of you, kneeling to cut your binds around your feet.

Your eyes desperately raked over him, the scar on his cheek, the curve of his nose, the stubble on his face, his ears you liked to nibble on in secret, his Adam's apple, his broad shoulders.

Back up to his blue eyes, the blue eyes you'd looked into so often you'd memorized each fleck of lighter blues against darker blues, something so beautiful that you'd never been able to put them into words. You drank all of him in.

"Are you real?" Your voice croaked out, sounding hoarse and shaky, it was barely recognizable as your voice, but the pain that accompanied it proved to you that it was indeed your voice who asked.

"Aye, aye lassie, I'm real." The state of you made him take pause, pressing his forehead to yours, gently holding the nape of your neck to bring you closer to him. He needed to acknowledge for just a moment you were alive before he moved behind you to cut the rest of your binds.

The ropes holding you to the chair were all that were keeping you up, when they were cut you were released, he had to rush to catch you before you could hit the floor. "Easy. I got ye. I won't let anything happen to ye." Holding your shoulders he moved around you to face you again, pulling his canteen out for you. He brought it to your cracked, dry lips to give you some water, careful not to drown you all at once. "I'm getting ye out o' here."

Once he was satisfied with the small amount you drank he grabbed you by the arm, hauling you over his shoulder to carry you out.

Everything was a bit hazy, the whole way out, you could identify the sounds of your other teammates voices, the sounds of the helicopter, a prick in your arm, and coolness spreading in your veins, but nothing was clear. Nothing but the fact you were safe.

Things didn't become clear until you were opening your eyes, hearing an irritable beeping sound, a steady rhythm. Looking down at yourself your wrists were bandaged, two IV's in your right arm, one in your hand, the other on the inside of your elbow.

"Yer awake." A hand came to gently touch your head, coming in gentle contact with one of the bandages there.

Despite the fluids being brought back into you through the IV's your throat still ached with dryness, your captain seemed to take notice of it, quickly moving to bring you some water, gently holding a straw to your lips so you could drink.

The coolness of the water worked to both soothe your throat and highlight the pain there. You Pulled away but John didn't seem quite satisfied yet. "Just a wee bit more." He urged, and you complied.

After that some nurses and doctors came in to check on you, completing their rounds and making sure all was well with you and that you were comfortable, well, as comfortable as you could be.

John stayed the whole time, and after the nurses and doctors left he remained, a silence between you two.

He ran his hand over his mohawk, it was cut recently, a little shorter than the last time you saw it, a testament of just how long you really have been gone.

"I'm sorry, I never meant tae leave ye." His voice sounded a bit pained, trying to clear his guilty conscience.

"You never left. I always heard you, shadows all around me, prickles on the back of my neck. Your voice pushing me. Picking me up. When all the colors were black, you're the reason I'm still alive." It hurt to speak still, but you needed to get it out, it did little to comfort him, if anything making him look more worried.

"Love, I'm sorry. It shouldn't have been ye. Anyone but ye. Me. It should have been me. Not ye." He slipped from his chair, kneeling beside you, clutching your left hand with desperation, but gentle enough not to hurt you. He kissed your hand, over and over, each knuckle, each little mark, scar, bandaged blister, callous, everything.

It hurts to move your right arm with the IV's, not to mention the overwhelming weight of your bones. But you needed to, bringing your hand to gently rub his head, feeling his short hair, running along the slightly longer mohawk, grounding both of you with the sensation.

"It's not your fault. Everyone would have died if you stayed, it was a necessary sacrifice. A call I would have told you to make." Your hand slipped from his head, feeling too exhausted to be able to keep it there.

"I spent so many nights desperately searching fur ye. The only thing- the only thing that kept me going wis the thought of finding ye. I needed tae find you." Hearing his voice, really hearing his voice was something so grounding and comforting to you.

The familiar rumble and fluctuations, the Scottish accent that's mellowed out over the years of service, adjusting with hearing other's accents for so long, a lot of his slang being replaced by slang in the areas he spent time, his accent becoming a shell of what it used to be, changed so he could be easily understood. But ever present.

"You did, you found me. I'm okay. I'll be okay now." You had to say it out loud to reassure yourself that you weren't still tied to that cool metal chair, the fan blades spinning overhead, always waiting for the next dose of pain to bring you closer to the edge of blackness. Death.

Recovery sounded almost impossible, you were sure you'd never fully get over what happened to you, that the psychological as well as physical scars would always remain.

Taunt you with each flickering of light, the sound of metal, the taste of iron, each time you closed your eyes you were sure you'd see your captor, his interrogations and questions would always repeat like a broken record in your head.

But you yourself weren't broken, you made it through.

"I swear I'll never let ye go again, I'll take care of ye. Till my very last breath. I'll spend the rest of my life atoning for the pain I put ye through by leaving ye there." His words were spoken with absoluteness, a testimony more than a promise.

"Just never stop speaking to me and I'll be alright, as long as your voice is here to ground me I'll make it through." His blue eyes bore into you, they were soft, filled with longing.

It was so stupid to fall for your captain, not to mention against so many rules, even more stupid for him to fall for you too. There was only one way this could end, you were lucky this time. But who's to say you will be next time?

You shook the thought from your head, pulling him weakly with your left hand up to you, kissing him softly. He was hesitant at first, scared of hurting you, but he melted into it. Relishing having you back safe.

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privitivium · 1 month

Note

A thought just came over me and i don't know whether or not this is a bad idea lol.

So reader right, having a motherly "spouse" thats a bit too overwhelming and protective?, Yep totally normal.

And having his boss, a literal CEO following and giving coffee or latte's during readers working hour, sometimes he would see the fatherly CEO stalking him in the corner of his eyes, well that's a bit weird..

And oh my, seems like a streamer had just befriended him, a pretty popular guy too.

not giving too much thought about it, reader immediately started playing with the streamer.

Not giving too much thought on how deranged and personal the streamer's questions about him, a bit uncomfortable nonetheless, but he really seems like pathetic guy infront of him with the cameras off, But mother did say to be careful on the internet (or else he's taking away the internet privileges)

But what happens if the streamer "accidentally" (he doxxed reader lol) met reader in real life and started stalking him, only to see two humongous guys clinging on to him and seemingly fighting each other internally, calling one of them mother and the other father, but streamer knows that is definitely NOT your parents...seems like reader got another yandere on his dick

(if you don't get the gist of it, what im basically saying is that can you add streamer yan to the mother yan and father yan ordeal..just a headcannon is fine..but i wanna see a story tho lol.

Sorry if this is a bit too long haha

this is the same anon that requested yan mother and father yan, the whole "bringing my bae his forgotten lunch to his workplace only to see him getting spoonfed by fucking his boss" ordeal lol)

its fine i generally love reading little stories in my requests . Thanks anon

motherly, fatherly, streamer yandere x male reader,,,

all amab, cw;; mild perversion, manipulation

i'm gonna go with,,, theyre just housemates. two super close friends with obvious sexual, romantic tension - mother refers to you to others as his lover, and you dont really care, so you must want to be lovers? mother doesnt push it... but is still as overwhelming n overprotective as ever. thanks mother !

fatherly CEO stalking you? seemingly to pop up everywhere you went with a cup of coffee for you - or even mixing it up and getting you some kinda matcha deal!! nothing out of the ordinary, your superior was always kinda affectionate... you try to tell him that theres no reason to be so chummy with you ( trying to direct his attention on something else but it doesnt work ) afterall, you do see all ur coworkers prying eyes... but it was no big deal. ur coworkers didnt seem to bother you anyway, so... you guess ur fine with your superior doting on you ( even if it was quite inappropriate in the workplace, but he managed to turn ur mind right around !! so charming ! )

and - three whole friends ?! two of which theres some kind of unspoken tension, especially with your housemate who you affectionately nicknamed mother - you don't tell anyone so, embarrassed that youre referring to a grown man as mother... and instead, almost spilling it to your newest friend-! ㅡstreamer yan being a fucking freak and tapping into ur shit before mother or fatherly does - having to play with a raging hard-on because hes a sad little freak in real life, but on stream hes the coolest most badass guy ever... who asks too personal questions - but you didnt seem to mind. like, who do you live with? is it nice? what kind of soap do you use in the shower? how often do you do laundry? didnt register in your mind that this streamer guy is a total pervert - but steering clear of such questions when on stream...

and what do you know ?? streamer pulling up to where you live... just to get a good scope of the place n all,,, nothing too out of the ordinary. definitely not stalking. he just happened to live a few towns close by... and - having the great idea to ask what you were gonna do one day, just to be there to show up. small town or something... just to see you in the middle of two bulky ass dudes who were adamant on avoiding each other - ever so often glaring heatedly at one another... and, he hears you calling one mother??

can imagine mother n father wondering why ur spending so much time on ur phone... unusual for you since ur never really on it that much-? and mother did tell you to be wary of the internet... you begin to hide away in your little workspace mother made up for you in your shared home, fiddling on your computer and - playing video games and messaging some guy... who were you talking to? who were you laughing with? how dare they make you smile ????

mother n father teaming up reluctantly just to figure out wtf is up with ur computer and phone... wanting to know who ur talking to ( surprisingly havent tapped it!!! ) and obviously, mother goes in there when ur not home - at work with that bastard other man he has no choice but to work together with, fiddling with your computer n not knowing the password - so mother, immediately going to guilttrip you into giving him the password. hes especially sad that it wasnt his name or anything of the sort...

they were so happy you were suddenly so comfortable calling them father and mother in public as they act accordingly - so sweetly, you feel an overwhelming amount of affection which was what they wanted in the first place... streamer obviously feeling intimidated,,, but willing to join ur little harem.,,,

#streamer yan :3 #motherly yan!#fatherly yan...#x male reader #male reader

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tomkaulitzssgirl · 8 months

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Hear me out 2010Tom kaulitz x guitarist (same band) female reader like she’s changing in her changing room and then tom walks in and like she’s naked and well things get heated from then on maybe

did you miss me? | Tom Kaulitz

you sighed as you chose what you were going to wear that night. the concert would’ve started in an hour so you were getting ready to go.

you were the a singer just like bill and the only girl in the band, that meant princess treatment everyday.

they treated you like a queen, really. everything you needed you would get in a blink of an eye, from then but even from the staff.

sometimes you had to admit you felt alone since you were really a feminine girl and you couldn’t really talk about much with only boys, besides make up and fashion with bill.

infact, most of them time you would invite your sister with you on tour, so you could have a girly energy around you as well. she found herself really close to georg and now they were kind of a thing.

meanwhile you had a weird relationship with tom.

you and tom had always been close, and you had to admit the huge crush you had on him. your relationship was strange because you guys kissed and did all the stuff that a couple would do, besides sex. that never happened.

but even if you guys acted that way, tom never asked you to be his girlfriend, he even brought over other girls to sleep with, knowing that you were right there and could hear him.

at first you were so crushed by it, you spent days not eating or sleeping, just crying and putting on a mask infront of them. i guess he thought you were okay with it.

but now you were acting different, you were distant and you knew he could feel it. you never sat next to each other during flights or on the tour bus. you never kissed him anymore, held his hand, or cuddled. it was difficult but you had to do that for your own sanity.

and also, you were trying to date other guys so you could forget him, and he didn’t seem to like it. every time you would go out with someone, he always had a problem with it. but he didn’t tell you anything, he talked about to bill and of course he came to tell you how pissed off he was, meanwhile infront of you he would just stay silent. he couldn’t understand his brother either.

so now you found yourself in a uncomfortable situation, where you had to try to mask your feelings because of someone’s selfishness.

you looked at yourself in the mirror as you changed, taking off your shirt and pants. you were so lost in your thoughts, you had forgotten the door unlocked.

suddenly, it slammed open, with tom entering quickly in it.

“tom!” you screamed as you wrapped your arms around yourself. he jumped up, his eyes widening at the sight.

you quickly took a towel and put it infront of you.

“fuck! y/n…i didn’t know you were here.” he scratched his neck, his eyes never leaving you. you could totally see what he was imagining.

“i-it’s okay…uhm, can you just go? i have to change.” it was so awkward it literally hurt you inside.

tom just stood there, almost as if he was thinking about if something was a good idea or not, before walking towards you fast.

your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at him like he was crazy. “w-what?”

without saying nothing he just kissed you.

his hands removed the towel from infront of you body, throwing it somewhere before placing them on your hips, slamming your body against his.

you just gave in immediately, melting in the kiss. you missed him so much. you didn’t know how much you craved his presence, not until now.

“you’re so gorgeous.” tom whispered kissing from your neck, slowly going down to your collarbone, arriving to your breasts and then sliding down your stomach. goosebumps were all over your skin as you whimpered. arriving up your lower belly, he teased you, his teeth biting the material of you panties before standing up again, never breaking eye contact.

all of a sudden, he grabbed you in his arms princess style, taking you towards the couch. he put himself on top of you, playing with the fabric of your panties.

“can i?” he asked knowing fully that it was a yes. you nodded, your cheeks flushed as he removed them.

he gripped your tights keeping them open as his face came in contact with your core. he started licking and sucking on your clit, adding his fingers to your entrance making you a moaning mess. his eyes watched every single expression you made as he pleasured you.

you started moving away as you felt your high coming but he kept you still and sooner than later, you came in his mouth.

“taste so good.” he said leaving kisses on your thighs as you kept your breath in check.

“t-tom i-i…”

“we’re not done.” he quickly cut you off, wanting to live this moment fully.

he removed his pants and boxers before positioning himself infront of your entrance. your heartbeat was crazy.

“do you want to?” he asked making sure you were okay with what was going to happen.

“yes please.” you couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to be connected to him.

his tip came in contact with your entrance and just with that you gasped, before he put his member all inside you.

you arched your back, your eyes closed at the feeling. it was amazing.

tom grabbed your hands, intertwining them with his at the sides of your head. he gently began to go in and out of your entrance, hearing all your small moans. once he saw you were fully adjusted, his pace quickened.

“fuck, i missed you y/n. did you miss me?” his voice was broken with groans as his face was hidden in the crook of your neck.

“y-yes! i missed you so much.” that phrase came out high pitched since the pleasure was becoming too much and his thrusts harder. the couch was literally shaking.

“why were you such a bad girl then, huh? with those guys…no one can fuck you like i do, y/n. you’re all mine.” his insecurities came out as possession as he put his forehead against yours.

you nodded frantically, “no one did.” it was true. you never slept with the guys you saw after tom. they didn’t attract you enough to do that.

“good girl. i can feel it, you’re so fucking tight.” he captured your lips in a kiss as he said that, his pushes becoming sloppy. you kept moaning in his mouth, feeling him deeply in you. you couldn’t believe you were about to cum for the second time.

you clenched around him and that sent him over the edge, you both came, you throwing your head back as his name was on loop, meanwhile he pulled out and came on your breasts.

right after, tom fell beside you on the couch, eyes closed and forehead glistening. both of your chests went up and down heavily.

“i don’t wanna lose you.” suddenly he spoke, not looking at you.

“i don’t wanna lose you either but i have feelings for you tom and it hurts being used by someone you - like.” you were about to say love but held back.

“i never used you y/n.” tom shook his head, placing an arm under his head.

“then what did you do? you saw other girls and brought them over then treated me like i was your girl. i was like a toy to kill some time with.” your own words were hurting you and you almost regretted having sex with him, you had to be stronger.

tom sighed heavily, finally turning his head towards you, “i thought i wasn’t ready for a real relationship, but you were always the one for me. not being able to touch you or talk to you like i used to made me fucking miserable. all those guys i saw you with, i wanted to kill them. that’s when i understood how much i really care about you and i’m ready.” his eyes were locked into yours, and you saw him gulp down nervously.

“for what?”

some seconds were spent in silence before he spoke.

“to be with you.”

#tokio hotel #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz #writing #fandom #fanfic #masterlist #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x you

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corporatefrog · 1 year

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꒦‧₊ ꒷ HEADCANNONS: Kenny, Kyle, Stan, and Butters saving you as superheroes/villains when you're in danger! ✧.*

✧.* tags: college au, superhero au ✧.* Characters: kenny mccormick, kyle broflovski, stan marsh, butters scotch a/n: another amazing anon request! i always love the suggestions and they lead to such fun scenarios (and ways to zone out during class lol)

masterlist

Kenny/Mysterion:

Literally the scene from the beginning of Megamind where they’re in the observatory

Except he bursts in and saves you

You were just trying to get footage of mysterion’s press conference then suddenly you’re tied up in the storage unit- sorry, the LAIR OF CHAOS

(he gets sad when you don’t call it that)

“Ah mysterion! It is I, your greatest foe-”

“I wouldn’t say greatest”

“Professor chaos- wait what?”

“I’m just saying I've literally fought cthulhu. He’s probably the greatest”

“Well, Cthulhu was an eldritch horror ! He doesn't count!”

“Yes he does”

“No he doesn't!”

“Yes he does!”

“No he doesn't-”

“Guys I really got to piss, can we speed this up?”

Mysterion shows up a few minutes later but you don’t get ‘rescued’ for another 30 minutes because him and chaos kept arguing

He walks you home and says he’ll always be there to save you

But you know the same thing is going to happen next week

Kyle/Human Kite

You were at the park with kyle to visit the pet adoption fair being held by the south park animal shelter

But Professor Chaos had other plans.

Suddenly all of the animals were let out of their pens and were running through the park

It was the most adorable stampede to ever exist

You turned to tell ky that you guys had to help but he was gone?

The text he sent: “allergic to cats. Sorry.”

BRO WHAT??

You get absolutely DOG PILED

By actual dogs.

Chaos is evilly laughing while blowing a dog whistle while General Disarray points laser pointers at people’s feet

You were ready to give into your death by puppy

But you’re pulled out from the dog heap by human kite!

He flies??? Over to chaos and slaps the dog whistle out of his hands and starts lecturing him

You almost feel bad for the guy

But then again, there are cats running up trees and dogs running into the street so animal safety comes first

You help them take care of the animals

(and definitely end up adopting a furry friend :) )

Stan/Toolshed

Professor chaos has stuck you in a small cell surrounded by glass with a 2 hour timer ticking down towards an unknown demise

Usually it wouldn’t have been an issue for tool to grab a sledge hammer and take care of it

But the cell was made of impact proof glass

That didn’t stop Toolshed from trying to break through the glass for 30 minutes while professor chaos monologues from a tv screen in the corner

“HAHHAA! I bet you’re wondering how I managed to trap-”

WOMP

“You won’t be breaking through that glass anytime-”

WOMP

“H-Hey! Let me at least get through my-”

WOMP

“WELL GOSH DARN IT LET ME DO MY SPEECH FIRST!”

And the only way to unlock it was to complete an escape room and find a key

But professor chaos seems to have forgotten that stan loves complex board games

And what is an escape room if not a complex solo board game?

“You need to use the cipher from the map to decode the encyclopedia for the safe code!”

“Oh yeah, I’ll definitely do that. If I were an idiot.”

“Okay now you’re just being mean”

“It’s obvious that the map cipher is used for the chess board to give you the steps for the dance dance revolution machine!”

“...yeah totally. I definitely knew that’s how it works.”

He has you out in like 5 minutes

And you make a mental note to never play Settlers of Katan with him.

Butters/Professor Chaos

The freedom pals kidnapped you to try and get information out of you since you act as tech help for chaos

Well it was really just the coon

“I thought that kidnapping was a villain thing”

“Yeah because when a superhero does it, it’s taking a villain into custody”

“I really don’t see the logic there”

“WELL YOU DONT HAVE TO SO SHUT UP”

“I thought you wanted me to talk?”

“AHHHHH”

Really you were just giving cartman shit for a few hours

Until the basement suddenly fills with smoke!

Professor Chaos threw smoke bombs into a small enclosed basement (not a good idea-)

You both barely manage to get out while coughing through the smoke

But you do it!!

Yippie!!

Chaos insists on getting you ice cream as an apology for getting wrapped up in everything

“I mean, if I had to deal with that dickwad everyday, I’d want to cause chaos to piss him off too. I only was there for an hour and i never want to see him smile again”

You just became the coolest person ever to him

#professor chaos superiority always #south park headcanons #south park x reader #south park #corporatefrog #kenny mccormick #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #butters stotch

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futbol16 · 1 year

Text

The other Williamson • Leah Williamson

Request: "Can we please have a Leah x younger sister, where she’s kinda been living in Leah’s shadow and she feels like its never enough 🥺 On her birthday they have an important day so Leah, her family and most of the girls unintentionally forgot her special day. However, they don’t find out until she gets badly injured on the pitch and in the ambulance Leah is with her of course not leaving her sisters side they ask for her date of birth and it all comes crashing down for Leah. Keira and Lucy were also with her in the ambulance and they all try to console Leah, Keira feelings horrible as well since Y/N had been her best friend since U-11’s"

Word count: 1,8k

Growing up as Y/n Williamson was awesome. You got a cool older sister, a sweet younger brother and the three of you could play football together growing up.

Being Y/N Williamson had been awesome until it no longer was. Because Y/n Williamson was just the little sister of Leah Williamson, captain Leah Williamson. The 25 year old that captained England to the Euro’s and won the tournament. Ever since then, being Y/n Williamson hadn’t been too awesome.

Although you had been one of the top goal scorers for England, even before the Euro’s, it wasn’t the same as captaining the team to Europe’s biggest tournament. And people made sure to let you know that. It wasn’t like you didn’t know, Y/N would come second and Y/N would rarely get asked about anything else that’s not her sister in interviews.

You knew the routine by now.

You thought maybe it would be different today, on your day. 22 years ago was when you first saw the light of the day, November the 15th. Leah had always gone all out for your birthdays, claiming that she had to be the best sister and what better way to prove that to you than spoiling you on your birthday?

However, that didn’t seem to be the case this year. You woke up alone, your roommate had already gone down for breakfast and even as you entered the cafeteria no one even spared a glance at you. It was weird seeing as most of the time everyone would be buzzing on a teammate’s birthday, but you chalked it up to it being a matchday, an important matchday against Norway.

You sat next to Keira in silence, she had been your closest friend growing up despite her and Leah being closer in age. Your best friend was focused on the match ahead and didn’t even look up from her plate. Nothing different there, maybe you were just making up things.

But as you turn on your phone and see no messages, you start to get more confused. Usually your mum or Jacob would be the first people to wish you a happy birthday, but nothing. You shrugged at it, they were probably still sleeping…at 9am on a Tuesday.

Later as you sit in the locker room you start questioning yourself. Did they forget? Or maybe they’re just too focused on the match? Yeah, that’s definitely it.

“Hey, what’s the date today?” Georgia is the one asking the question and for a second you look up, curious as to what was going to happen next.

“The 15th mate, already forgot?” Your sister asks with a chuckle.

“Oh alright then. Thought my flight back was on the 15th but I guess nothing too important today.” the girl chuckles with a shake of her head.

There it is, confirmed. Your best friends have totally forgotten that it’s your birthday. Ouch.

Heading out for warmups before the match, you pass by Anthony, one of the media guys and you smile at him politely.

“Big day, no Y/N?” he asks, camera in his hand recording you.

“Yeah yeah, big one.” you answer rather confused as to what he was hinting at.

“Happy birthday Y/N! Number 22.” he cheers and you laugh at his antic, although surprised that he knew.

“Thank you, see you later Antonio!” you wave at him.

“The name’s Anthony.” he laughs at you.

The match had been intense with almost equal possession of the ball, though your team had been off to a great start as you assisted Rachel to a goal in the 33rd minute.

The girls thought it would stay that way, and it did, for a good bit. Until you went down in the 79th minute of the match. A rough tackle that ended with you groaning into the grass beneath you, arm cradled close to your chest and a heavy pounding in your head.

With you on the ground and no one to match the speed of the Norwegians, Frida Manuum scores in the 80th minute, equalizing.

Yet it’s the least of Leah’s concern as she kneels next to you, closely followed by Keira kneeling on your other side. The two girls try to get you to turn on your back, but as you make no move to do so, they gently turn you over themselves.

The first thing you hear is your sister’s gasp, the first thing you see though is the face Keira makes as she looks down at your arm. Mhmm, so this was more than just an ‘I fell on it and it’s bruising’ kind of hurt.

Your sister starts talking and you’re trying so hard to focus, to only focus on her even as the medical team arrives and places you on a stretcher, but it’s no use because suddenly, or actually rather slowly the world around you turns black.

“She’s down!” one of the medic yells frantically, it was never good if a player fell unconscious after a tackle. Your team can barely blink before you’re lifted off the field and into the back of an ambulance standing at the side of the pitch.

Leah’s heart is beating out of her chest, she has no clue what to do. She wants to go with you, not leave her little sister alone in pain, but she also had a match to play, a match with 10 more minutes left on the clock.

Keira’s shouting breaks her out of her thoughts and she follows the girl as she pulls her along to where Sarina stands with one of the Ambulance people. They’re both ordered to go with you in the Ambulance, Lucy following the two.

The team would be fine, they had a bunch of new players waiting to make their debut. The three of them had more important things to do though.

They sit in the back of the ambulance, next to where you’re laying. It’s a bit stuffed with all three of them sitting there and the EMT guy as well. You’ve got a mask on your face, breathing in some painkillers.

“Y/N Williamson, right?” he asks them, the three nod.

“Female, 21…date of birth?” he asks, looking up from his clipboard.

“November 15th, 2000.” Leah answers instantly, hand resting on the forearm of your good arm.

“Ahh, so 22 years old then? Not the best birthday I suppose.” the man chuckles humorlessly. Leah’s head snaps at him, mouth parted slightly.

No, no this couldn’t be it, it wasn’t your birthday today. There’s simply no way she could have forgotten. She looks at the other two and her heart breaks as Lucy nods in confirmation.

She had forgotten her little sister's birthday.

Head in her hands, she stares at your face, disappointed in herself and sorry for you.

“Leah, we all forgot. It’s okay, she’ll understand.” Lucy tries to comfort her, but it’s no use.

“Yeah but I’m her sister, I should know!” she replies, frustratedly smacking her knee. She's so glad the EMT guy decides to stay out of this. Lucy is taken aback a bit, but she recovers quickly.

“Oh god, I completely ignored her today too.” Keira mumbles sadly, reaching out to stroke her thumb over your forehead. You had been her best friend since you were 7. Well you were 7 and she was 9, the two of you in the U-11 team. That’s where you first met, it’s where the two of you had become the best of friends, going strong ever since. Keira doesn’t think she’s ever felt as bad as she does now.

The rest of the ride to the hospital is spent in silence, the two women closest to you sitting with frowns on their faces as Lucy attempts to console the two as best as she can.

They sit in the waiting room as your arm is put into a cast and you get something for your head. Leah hasn’t said a word since the nurses have taken you away, she has sat in complete silence for the past hour. Elbows on her knees, chin resting on her fist and that aggressive furrow of her eyebrows apparent on her face.

Keira shoots up from her seat in surprise when you walk out alone, blue cast on your right arm and kept in a sling. She’s quick to pull you into a tight hug, muttering apologies to you, only feeling worse when you keep reassuring her that it was okay.

“Kei, it’s fine, I promise.” you tell her sincerely as you hold onto her.

“How can I make it up to you?” a tiny smile makes its way onto your face, knowing she won’t give up.

“Chicken nuggets?” the two of you laugh before you’re embraced by Lucy. You find comfort in the older woman’s neck.

“You better have my autograph on that by tonight!” she jokes referring to your cast, and you’re glad you get to laugh after the events of the day.

Leah is standing behind them, unsure what to do as she questions whether you’d be too upset with her. All those thoughts vanish though as you walk towards her with a silly smile.

“Blue’s my favorite color so I begged them to get me that one, they had to take it from a baby.” you giggle as you tell her the story but you soon stop as you realize she’s not laughing with you. “Lee?”

She clenches her jaw, eyes watering.

“Gosh Y/N, I’m so sorry.” she starts rambling, something you’ve gotten very used to over the years of growing up together, but you stop her from continuing.

“I know, Leah. It happens -”

“But it shouldn’t!” she cuts you off, that scowl she wore in the ambulance reappearing. You take her by the hand.

“And it never has before, you were just too focused on the match today. It is okay, Lee.” you nod at her, relieved when she nods back, pulling you into her. You eventually part as you realize you still haven’t moved from the hospital waiting room and you’d very much like to leave this facility as soon as possible.

“So how about those chicken nuggets? I could eat some right now.” you comment as the four of you walk out the door, the other three laughing at the grin you have.

Being Leah Williamson’s sister might not always be too awesome with the media,, but you would be fine as long as you had your big sister with you. To her, you’d always be the number 1 Williamson.

#woso one shot #woso imagine #woso x reader #futbol16 #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #keira walsh x reader #england lionesses x reader

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