#i am however going to do a little bit of a background check cause unfortunately their are a lot of bot blogs in the fandom like????? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itrytowrite-things · 3 years

Text

Murder podcasts

Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: Y/N has a tendency to listen to murder podcasts while doing chores, one day Spencer comes in unannounced scaring Y/N into action. (This summary sucks but it’s fluffy)

A/N: shout out to @with-paint, she helped me form some of this fic so check them out.

The eerie background music and narrator filled the kitchen as I scrubbed diligently at a plate. I blinked down at it, trying in vain to remember what the hell I used it for that would cause such a stubborn stain of food. Sighing, I squeezed the soap bottle some more and ran hot water over it. Maybe soaking it would help?

Grabbing a few of the cups I had washed, I spun around from the sink to a towel I had laid out earlier. I scrunched my nose as cold soap suds ran down my arm, hit my elbow and fell to the floor in a sticky mess I didn’t want to deal with right now.

I was so engrossed in the podcast playing over the Alexa that I barely even processed the grueling chore that was longer than normal. I was lost in the words, that an hour longer scrubbing at dishes seemed almost fun. The dishwasher had completely died a couple of weeks ago.

Normally Spencer would speed read the manual to figure out what was wrong with the stupid machine. But unfortunately, his case in Michigan was taking longer than he anticipated. So, he hadn’t been home to look into it, leaving me to hand wash the dishes. I didn’t mind, it was a mindless task and allowed me to catch up on my favorite podcast.

“They found her body a week later, twenty minutes from their house,” I shook my head at that, case freaking solved. Her husband obviously killed her. I mean there’s no way the police didn’t solve this case, come on.

I moved from the towel back to the sink, sticking my hands back into the soapy water. I always believed that I should be a detective. I could solve these cases easily, Spencer claims that suspicion can only take me so far and the reason that they don’t catch the guy is not because they don’t suspect it, but because they don’t have hard evidence. I normally just scoff and give him a kiss knowing that I would get the bad guy in the end, “hard evidence” my ass.

“Two months later the police came in and found Jeff’s disembodied head laying on their kitchen counter.” My jaw dropped and I turned around furiously, bringing a wet butter knife with me, on instinct I pointed the knife at the device.

“Oh shit.” I said to the speaker, as if it were relaying the case itself. Well turns out I was wrong. I cleared my throat and lowered the stupid knife. I placed it down and tried my best to look less scandalized. We all make mistakes. So I might have been a little off in my husband theory, but I mean I had only heard half the case at that point so it doesn’t speak anything of my amazing detective skills. I nodded at that and tossed the knife into a little stack of silverware. The metallic sound echoing around the kitchen. I smirked at my good throw and turned back to the sink.

I quickly got into the true grove of washing the dishes, listening to the more gruesome details of the case. Turns out the killer did quite a number on old Jeff. I was halfway done with the remaining dishes when I felt a tap on my shoulder sending my heart into a frenzy.

I whirled around quickly bringing the closest item with me as a weapon. The plastic spatula slapped the asalint straight in the face creating an awfully loud twack sound that bounced off the kitchen walls. I blinked in horror at realizing who exactly was standing in front of me.

Spencer's cheek turned red immediately.

“Oh my god! Spence! I am so sorry!” I dropped the spatula and brought my other hand to his face trying to soothe his skin. My hand was covered in water and soap suds, and it dripped down his face onto the already wet floor.

“I am so so sorry. You scared me.” I rubbed my thumb over the spot, feeling his heated skin. Jesus, I felt awful. I didn’t hold anything back when I hit him. I figured I was fending for my life, not greeting my boyfriend.

“It’s okay.” His much larger hand cupped mine removing it from his face. The redness had died down a little, making his skin a rosy pink instead of the previous bright red. He looked adorable which only made me feel worse. Who looks that cute after getting slapped in the face with a spatula?

Spencer startled me yet again when a chuckle came bubbling out of him. His laugh was like someone bottled the sound of happiness. It made my own laughter arise every time without a doubt even if I didn’t understand what was funny.

“I guess I don’t have to worry about you protecting yourself.” A loud squeak sound emitted from my body unexpectedly followed by more laughter. I slapped him very lightly across the chest, kissing his unharmed cheek.

“You're lucky I wasn’t cutting vegetables.” I said, rustling my way into his arms pulling his body against my tightly, loving the way his laughter shook my entire body. I felt the short press of his lips against the crown of my head before tucking my head into the nook of his neck. I inhaled deeply, taking the scent of him with me. The apartment had started to lose its scent with him being gone for so long. I was beyond eager for the apartment to smell like us again.

“I think those podcasts are giving you wild ideas.”

“They would never find your body Dr.Reid.” I teased, poking gently at his side making him squirm in my grip. Another round of laughter filled the small space, it was only when it died down that I realized my podcast was still running in the background.

“Alexa, stop,” I shouted into the air stopping the podcast. “The neighbor did it.” I said with coincidence knowing that my answer was correct this time. Spencer let out a belt of laughter, nodding his head, a big grin on his face.

I pulled back from Spencer taking in his features for the first time. He looked tired, his eye bags had doubled creating a skunk in effect. I could see the trouble in his eyes, the case was hard. It killed me to see him after a hard case, he looked more and more defeated after each one. However, it was what he loved doing and my job wasn’t to erase the trauma of his job, but to ease him back into daily life. I thumbed his eye bags lazily, a pout taking over my face.

“You wanna take a shower and I’ll start us some dinner.” I asked gently. Not wanting to completely destroy the quiet we created. He nodded slightly looking younger than ever. I quickly pulled him back into me taking all of his weight. “I love you bub.” His hair felt silky against my fingertips as I disentangled the curls.

“Love you too.” He mumbled, his heated breath warming my skin. I waited a few comfortable minutes rocking our conjoined bodies in the cozy silence of our kitchen, I took a deep breath and said what was on my mind.

“You wanna talk about it?”

I don’t ever ask Spencer for the details of his cases. He either goes into a tangent without prompting or doesn’t feel like talking about it. I used to think that talking to Spencer about his job would be like listening to my murder podcasts. It honestly was one of the things I was excited for, but I soon found out it’s nothing like that.

When Spencer spoke of cases it was personal. He felt every death that was caused and saw every killing through the eyes of monsters. He held so much emotion in his voice when he spoke of the victims, that I often can’t help but cry. How a person can hold that much pain and still continue to do it everyday, is beside me.

He shook his head, squeezing my torso before finally pulling back and placing a soft kiss to my lips.

I continued the dishes, washing the last few. I left the podcast off, listening instead to the shower from down the hall. I scrubbed off the last of the grime before starting the oven. A simple dinner was always best in these situations. I pulled out a pre-made chicken pot pie from the freezer and placed it in the oven.

As I moved to dry and put away the dishes while waiting for pie to finish. Spencer emerged from the bathroom freshly bathed. He wore a thin gray shirt paired with some soft looking sweatpants. My upper lip jutted out automatically. God I love him.

“Feel better?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to startle any peace that the shower might have brought him. He nodded slowly.

“What did you cook?”

“A chicken pot pie, I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect.” He smiled and returned to my arms, kissing my neck once before tucking his head into my neck. The edge of his wet hair scraped against my skin in an uncomfortable way, yet I only moved enough to rub circles into his back.

A loud beep emitted from the oven caused me to jump in Spencer's arms. He let out a small chuckle.

“Pick us something to watch and I’ll plate us some food.” I hummed turning my back to him. I heard him walking towards the living room as I bent to retrieve the hot food.

Spencer sat criss cross on the couch, Les Enfants du Paradis was displayed on the TV. I handed him the steaming bowl and sat down, sitting close enough for our knees to knock together. I have no idea what Les Enfants du Paradis was, but I would watch literally anything he wanted as long as he was here.

“It’s in French, but I figured I could whisper the translations to you while we watch. Or I could pick something else?”

“No! This is perfect Spence. I love it when you translate, you tell the story better.” He let out a little blush highlighting his previous slap mark. I bit my lip and winced slightly, “How’s your face?”

He touched the spot faintly, he didn’t wince when his fingers made contact which was a good sign. However, I have an inkling that a small bruise would form in the center of the slap which was going to be a fun story to tell his colleagues Monday.

“I’ve had worse, but you wield a lot of power with a cheap piece of plastic.”

“I am professionally trained in the art of spatula wielding Spence, don’t try that at home.” I stared at him, my face blank before a blast of laughter came out of both of us. One can only be so serious when you are talking about slapping people in the face with kitchen utensils.

Spencer started up the movie, and we remained there for the rest of the evening. Laughter and dramatic sighs followed by even more dramatic translations from Spencer. At some point he went so off script that even I could tell his story was bullshit. I didn’t call him out though just allowed him to spit nonsense, I would let him create fake French stories until he was blue in the face if that meant we got to stay in this happy bubble forever.

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #doctor reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #reid fluff #spencer fluff #cm #cm x reader #criminal minds #dr. spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid fluff #x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer x you #y/n

320 notes · View notes

anythingforspence · 3 years

Text

the capstone - chapter one

Summary: Reader is a semester away from getting her masters in Psychology and duringher last semester she has to complete her capstone, or passion project if you will. This year, the professors decided that each student will be personally mentored by a psycologyst in distinct fields. When Y/N meets hers, she can’t decide whether she is lucky or if it will be a long 5 months.

Pairing: Female reader x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.8 k

Chapter warning: harsh language, sexy talk, no smut yet

A/N: omg tysm for all of the love on the teaser post. i hope i dont dissapoint.

Although I’m wide awake, I let my alarm clock keep beeping and beeping and beeping as I stare up at the white ceiling of my cheap studio apartment. My neighbor woke me up bright and early this morning by doing what sounded like lugging a dead body throughout his apartment. I lifted my head slightly just to slam it back against my bed, whining about being awake at 5:30 am. I’m probably just nervous. I have to complete this passion project for my psychology class by being mentored by a famous psychologist and write a paper about their career and their wisdom I guess. I have a meeting with my mentor today and I don’t know what to expect. My professor kept the identity of our mentors a secret. For the “excitement” and whatnot.

With a sigh, I swing my legs over the side of my bed and bend over to switch off the alarm. Resting my elbows on my knees, I run my hands down my face, basically prepping myself for the fact that I have to stand up soon. The moment I stand, I stretch all throughout my body, ending with my hands high above my head, stretching into the ceiling. My mouth getting ready to yawn when a bang was heard next door, like a book being chucked against the wall ajoined with my neighbors apartment causing me to yelp. I’m pretty sure I heard a chuckle in response to my scream. I glared at the wall, thinking of all the ways I could storm in there and punch my neighbor. I had two choices. I could storm in there and do all the things I wish I could do, or I could mind my business and get ready for the day.

Rolling my eyes I decided to just get ready. I still wanted payback, however, I blasted Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now by The Smiths as I head into the showe. I grab brown trousers, a white button up, and a sage green set of lace undergarments. Not that anyone would see them, unfortunately there has been a drought of sorts in my pants. I just wear them for the aesthetic. Getting undressed, I put on my favorite playlist with all of the songs that make me feel like I’m the main character in an indie film. I heard a light tapping at my door, like some wanted my attention but at the same time wished I never paid attention to them. I decided to ignore it and step under the stream of water in my shower.

Once I was all finished with my shower, I stepped out into my foggy bathroom. Singing along to Bug Collector by Haley Heynderickx, I start drying off and slip on my outfit for the day. I keep my hair in a towel to help it dry some so I don’t have to use any heat on my hair. For my makeup I decided to go for a red lip, neutral blush, mascara, and brows today. Something simple and professional. I let my hair out of the towel and brush it out, not doing too much to it. Blowing myself a kiss in the mirror, I grab my purse and wrap my student ID around my neck, letting it fall next to the golden flower chained to my neck.When I open the door, I laugh in shock at the note my neighbor left for me.“nice taste in music”

I felt something against my leg and knew exactly who it was. “Hi, Payton,” I sweetly spoke to the Sphynx cat at my feet. I named her Payton even though she’s not technically mine and just wanders through the apartment complex. I bend down to give her scratches at her neck. “How’s my cutie patootie. Did you see the asshole who left this not?” She just tilted her head more into my hand, telling me to keep on scratching. “Guess not.” I stand back up and check the time on my watch, “Shit”. I had five minutes to get there.

-----

A bell rang as I entered the coffee shop I was supposed to meet my mentor at, of course with my favorite mask on. My eyes scan the place a little before I walk up to the counter to order my favorite drink. “Hi can I just get a 16 ounce Earl Grey, please?” The barista said something along the lines of yes of course and how my total was 2.16. “Alrighty, thank you.” It didn’t take too long for it to be done. They weren’t very busy and it’s just a tea bag and hot water.

“Excuse me, are you Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

Woah. His voice sent a tingle down my spine. Probably just because I haven’t had much human contact or the fact that I haven’t been laid in a while but, my god, what I would give for him to say my name again. But that was nothing compared to what I saw when I turned around. I’m just glad I was wearing a mask so he didn’t the way my lips parted when my eyes met his. He had curly brown hair and he dressed like an old man, doesn’t sound like much but for me, that’s everything. Oh my gosh, and he had nerdy little cute glasses? When I realized I was staring I averted my eyes and started blushing.

“Um, yes, hi, that’s my name. I’m so sorry, but what’s your name?” The tremor in my voice made me want to just drop dead. I’m a woman of science but if the Earth knew how to open up and swallow people, now would be the time to prove it.

“Oh hi. I’m Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m your psychology mentor. Did your professor not tell you?” He seemed so confused, oh my god he’s so cute.

“Oh. Oh my God I’m so sorry! My professor didn’t let us know who was mentoring us, just in case we did prior research or something. I’m sorry. But yes um I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” I kept on rambling, looking anywhere but his eyes. Unfortunately, it made me look like I was checking him out. Oh fuck.

Chuckling a bit, he goes, “Oh no your fine. No need to apalogize. It’s a pleasure to meet you miss Y/N.” Not going to lie, the way he said my name sent tingles to my pussy. Oh my god what is wrong with me! I can’t be thinking these things about the person who is going to mentor me! Stop being so horny.

I started to blush and I cleared my throat and gestured towards the window. “Um, should we go sit out there?”

“Oh yes of course. Please after you,” he said, his hand finding the small of my back, hitching my breath and making me nervously mess with the rings on my fingers. We sat at the iron tables outside of the coffee shop, he pulled my chair open for me, finally his hands off of me. I felt like I could breathe again but at the same time I felt sad, empty. He took off his mask to take a sip of what he was drinking and holy shit. He had some scruff and his lips just looked so inviting. I wanted to distract from the silence that was biting at me. “So, uh, what do you do?” My voice trailing off, making everything so much heavier with awkwardness and the sexual tension that was just coming from me.

“What do you mean what do I do?” Fuck. I looked so stupid of course he does something in pschology. That’s the whole reason you’re here.

“W-well, um, like what specific area do you work in?”

“I do criminal profiling with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.” My eyebrows bunch together in confusion. What does that have to do with psychology? Almost as if he’s reading my mind he continues, “We psycho analyze crime scenes, victims, bodies to understand why a criminal would do what they did, which helps us to understand the type of person they are, their background, and it leads us to the criminal, or unsub.”

“Wow that’s actually really cool. But, like, how does that all work?”

“Tell me, Y/N, when was the last time you had sex?” I didn’t say anything. I was so shocked. First off, how inappropriate, but also how did he know? “When I first walked in, you kept on looking me up and down as if you’ve never seen a man before. You keep fidgeting with your rings. Usually new jewelry makes people fidget but the stains on your fingers suggest you wear rings frequently which means you're nervous. Also ever since I’ve taken my mask offyou haven’t stopped staring at my lips. So, sweet girl, tell me when was the last time you were satisfied?”

I just sat there, gapping at him like a fish out of water. What was I supposed to say? Why thank you for asking, although the last time I’ve had sex was a year ago but the last time I’ve orgasmed has been longer? Before I could come up with an answer he got a phone call. Someone named Morgan needed him or something. Whatever it was, it seemed urgent.“Sorry our meeting got cut short, Y/N. Very important FBI business came up. Here is my card, has my name, email and phone number. I recommend calling me because I don’t usually check my emails or my texts. Your professor already gave me your contact information so I know how to find you. I am very excited for the upcoming months.”

“Oh- uh, thank you,” I whispered, still shocked. He grabs my hand so that he can hand me my card since I haven’t moved a muscle.

“Oh and Y/N?” My head wips up at him and I let out a “hmm?” that could be mistaken for a moan. “Green is a nice color on you.” Confused, I looked down to see my button up shirt had popped open, letting my green covered tits be seen by the world. Eyes blown open, I immediately cover myself and say a thank you that sounded so embarrassing because my voice cracked. He just chucked and told me he would contact me soon. Before he left, I could’ve sworn he looked at me as if I was a sexy hollywood actress or something. But I brushed it off. Maybe he was concerned for me. After all, I had my tits out and made it obvious that I was desperately horny. God these five months will be awful if I keep thinking about Dr. Reid as a sex partner than a mentor. Then again the concept of having sex with your mentor can be hot. Nope. No. I should stop there.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #dom!spencer #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut

137 notes · View notes

motherjoel · 4 years

Text

get her (spencer reid x fem!reader)

summary: you finally get a boyfriend after pining for spencer for years, but spencer is suspicious of him

a/n: idek how i got this idea but i hope you guys like it lol. also we all know how sassy spencie gets when he’s upset afbjvbadas

wc: 2.3k

warnings/includes: some language, angst & fluff

“Someones looking chipper today,” said Emily as you walked into the bullpen with a smile on your face.

“What, just cause we catch serial killers for a living, I can’t have a good night?” you asked and shot her a wink. This caught JJ’s attention from a desk over.

“Alright, I’ll bite. Who’s the guy?” she asked, opening the files on her desk. You blushed for a moment before deciding to indulge them in the details.

“If you must know, his name is Justin and we’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now,” you smiled, giggling at your friends reactions. Garcia was nearby, pouring herself a mug of coffee.

“Wait, my ears were burning. Are we talking about love?” she asked, taking a sip of coffee and leaning on your desk.

“I wouldn’t call it love, but it’s something,” you wiggled your eyebrows. Spencer and Derek entered the bullpen together, walking over to the crowd you had assembled.

“Woah, how come I wasn’t invited to the party?” Derek asked, setting his bag down at his desk and joining the rest of you. Spencer lingered near your desk, curious about the gathering as well.

“Well, Y/N here has a special someone…” Emily said, raising her eyebrows. You didn’t notice Spencer visibly deflate from beside you, but JJ did. Spencer had confided in her about the crush he had on you- he never planned to act on it, but now that he knew you were taken, he regretted keeping it to himself. Spencer was almost thankful when Hotch left his office to announce a case. He didn’t want to hear the “dirty details” (as Garcia called them) with this Justin guy. What kind of name is that, anyway, he thought. Everyone stood up to make their way to the conference room before Hotch stopped them.

“A child was declared missing after her family was killed. Time is of the essence, we will debrief on the plane,” he said. Everyone grabbed their go bags and you shot a quick text to Justin, letting him know you wouldn’t be home for a few days. Spencer noticed you smiling at your phone and looked away, trying his best to ignore it.

After debriefing, everyone was scattered throughout the jet to go over their files and come up with theories. You normally sat with Spencer- he was your best friend in the office- so you made your way to the seat across from him. Although he was your best friend, you hadn’t mentioned Justin to him before today. You’d had feelings for Spencer when you joined the team, but you never thought he would feel the same way so you did your best to move past said feelings. They still lingered, however, when you fell asleep basically on top of each other on many jet rides home, or when he would bring you your favorite coffee on fridays. You decided that the best thing to do was to get in a relationship, which you did. Spencer didn’t look up when you sat across from him on the jet.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him before,” you said, feeling bad that you kept a relationship from your best friend.

“Hm? Who?” Spencer asked, feigning cluelessness.

“Justin, my-uh, my boyfriend,” you said. Spencer tensed.

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything,” he shrugged and looked back down at his files. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but he was acting weird.

“I know, I just feel like… you’re my best friend, and I should have told you about him,” you said, suddenly feeling foolish. Your use of “best friend” seemed to warm Spencer up.

“Really, Y/N. It’s fine, as long as you’re happy,” he said with a soft smile. You nodded and silently opened the manila folder, returning focus to the missing girl.

You had been working the case nonstop for hours without any leads, and you were feeling hopeless. After a long time of staring blankly at an evidence board, you excused yourself to call your boyfriend. Once you stepped outside, you hit call, only to be sent straight to voicemail. That’s weird you thought. You didn't want to bother him if he was busy, so you sent him a text.

hey, it’s a pretty rough case and I just wanted to call and talk to you. call me when you get the chance <3

You hit send and walked back inside, visibly deflated. Spencer took notice of your disappointed slouch, but remained focused on the profile, as did you. A call from Garcia came in after you had all been sitting in a stumped silence for a good 20 minutes.

“Guys, there was a little girl who just called the police, she claimed to be Sammie Smith,” said Garcia, voice laced with concern.

“Were you able to triangulate the call?” asked Hotch.

“Unfortunately no, but let me play it for you. It sounds like there's some sort of train in the background,” Garcia said, proceeding to play the audio. You all listened intently.

“Spence, how many trains go through the geographic profile?” you asked, walking over to the map Spencer was looking at and leaning down next to him, unintentionally pressing your chest to the side of his arm.

“Um, just one, but the unsub could be keeping her anywhere along the tracks,” Spencer said, ignoring the feeling of your warmth.

“Garcia, can you play it again,” asked Prentiss, leaning on the table.

“Sure thing.” You all listened intently.

“It sounds like the train stops during the recording- maybe she’s being kept near the station? Garcia, what’s the address of Sammie’s uncle?” you asked, thinking about a possible lead.

“Let me see… it’s 327 Lavender Road… which is a block from one of the train stations in the geographic profile,” she said urgently.

“Thanks Garcia,” Prentiss said as you all raced out of the conference room and into your SUVs.

The case was successful- or about as successful as catching a serial killer could be. You had saved Sammie’s life and she had an aunt across the country who would care for her. As you all piled onto the jet, you checked your phone again for a text from Justin. Nothing. You sat with Spencer on the couch, taking a deep sigh.

“He still hasn’t texted you back?” Spencer asked, looking between you and your phone.

“How did you know?” you asked, shoving your phone into your pocket.

“Well, you left the conference room yesterday and you came back discouraged, and you’ve been constantly checking your phone since then. Basic profiling,” he said, pulling a book out of his bag.

“Hey, whatever happened to the moratorium on profiling each other,” you said with a raised eyebrow. Spencer shrugged.

“I don’t know, I was just skeptical of this Justin guy. I mean, maybe there was a reason you didn’t tell any of us about him until now,” he said nonchalantly. You felt a little sting.

“Spencer, don’t you think that’s a little presumptuous? I mean, you didn’t tell any of us about Maeve,” you said. Spencer snapped his eyes back up to you. You felt bad bringing up his old scars but you needed to defend yourself.

“What’s this got to do with Maeve? At least she returned my calls,” he said, more angry than before.

“Spencer, why are you being like this?” you asked, getting the attention from the other team members now.

“Why am I being like this? I wasn’t the one who took a break from our job to call a boyfriend that won't even call me back,” he snapped. His eyes widened a little when he realized what he had just said. He had hurt your feelings. You stood up, tears brimming in your eyes. “Y/N, wait-” he started.

“No, I get it. I’m just gonna sit over there,” you said, grabbing your things and moving to the opposite end of the jet next to Emily. Spencer watched you walk away and he had never felt more guilty. He looked at Morgan who was sitting nearby and witnessed the whole fight.

“What do you have against Y/N dating?” Morgan asked, moving to sit next to Spencer. He seemed to already know the answer.

“Don’t make me say it,” Spencer put his head in his hands. Morgan clapped his shoulder, laughing lightly.

“Reid, we’ve all seen you two together. You guys cuddle on the jet home after cases. Cuddle. Spencer ‘I don’t shake hands’ Reid is tangled up with a girl he doesn’t even call his girlfriend,” Morgan said, shaking his head.

“She has a boyfriend Morgan. I’m in love with her and she’s-she’s taken,” Reid said, more quietly now. Derek widened his eyes.

“Damn, this ain’t no puppy love then. You’re in love with her?” he asked, taking on a more concerned tone. Spencer nodded his head, resting his chin on his hand and looking at you, trying to get some sleep in the uncomfortable chair. You probably would’ve slept better next to him.

“Then you gotta get her,” Morgan said before standing up and walking back to his original seat, putting headphones on. Spencer thought about what Derek had said, but decided that he would wait a bit. He wasn’t the type to just “get her.” With one last look at you shifting in your sleep, Spencer opened his book and tried to read, being only plagued with thoughts of you the entire ride home.

You exited the jet even more tired than you were before, if it was possible. After fighting with Spencer, you just wanted to see Justin. You wanted to prove to yourself that he was real, that he was a good guy. So, the second you got back to the office, you hopped onto the metro and took the train to his apartment, saying quick goodbyes to most of the team. Spencer not included. You walked up to his door and gave a knock, which was met without a reply. You tried again before wiggling his doorknob a bit. It was unlocked, which was odd for him. You began to worry a bit, so you decided to go inside and check it out. Your gun was drawn, just a precaution, when you heard screaming coming from his bedroom. You ran quickly to his room before bursting inside, pointing your gun at the source of the noise. Or, sources.

He was on his bed, presumably naked, under the sheets. Next to him was a woman you didn’t recognize, similarly naked. You opened your mouth in shock, slowly lowering your gun.

“So this is why you weren’t answering my text,” you said, still in a state of shock.

“Y/N, I-” Justin began.

“Nope. Nuh uh, I’m good, I’m… I’m gonna go,” you said, tears brimming in your eyes. As you stormed out of the apartment building, you walked and walked until you had finally stopped crying. You felt so stupid. And you were lost. With a sigh, you pulled out your phone and called the first number that came to mind.

“Hey, uh I’m lost and… can you pick me up?” you asked, sniffling a bit.

“Send me your location, I’m on my way,” Spencer said before hanging up. You sat down on the sidewalk and sent him your location. He lived nearby, so it only took a few minutes for him to arrive. Once he saw you, he stopped his car and got out, sitting next to you on the ground. You sniffled back a few tears.

“I found out why he wasn’t answering my calls,” you said, fiddling with a pebble you found on the ground. Spencer looked at you, waiting for you to continue. “Turns out I wasn’t the only woman he was fucking,” you said, standing up angrily. Spencer winced at your harsh language. You started to cry again, this time from anger. “But I’m okay!” you said pacing for a bit.

“Don’t lie to me,” Spencer said, watching you warily.

“I mean, god! How could I be so stupid to think I had finally found someone?” you asked angrily, repeatedly kicking a lamp post.

“Y/N…” Spencer stood up and walked over to you.

“No, I’m an idiot!” you yelled, angry tears streaming down your face. Kick, kick kick. When kicking wasn’t enough to satisfy you, your fists began to bang on it repeatedly. Poor lamp post.

“Y/N stop!” Spencer said, trying to grab your fists. “You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said, gently grabbing your wrists and turning you to face him. You took one look at his face and collapsed into his embrace, both of you sinking to the ground as he held you and shushed you, whispering confirmations in your ear. “Just breathe, breathe,” he said softly, stroking your back. Once you had calmed down, he spoke again. “Hey, look at me,” he said, and you did, looking up at his sympathetic face. “You deserve someone who values you,” he said softly.

“Like who?” you looked down at your entwined hands, heart drumming against your chest.

“Like… like me,” he confessed, eyes flickering down to your lips. You slowly removed your hands from his and put them on the sides of his face, gazing into his sparkling eyes.

“I don’t deserve you,” you said softly. As if to prove his point, Spencer leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, tasting your salty tears. You pulled away after a moment, savoring the way he tasted.

“You deserve everything,” Spencer said before kissing you on the forehead. You giggled and pulled him in by his tie, slamming your lips together again, this time with more intensity. He was surprised at first, but his hands quickly found their way into your hair as he moved in synchronicity with you, eventually pulling away for air.

“I love you Y/N, I always have,” he said, breathlessly.

“I love you too, Spencer Reid.”

taglist: @rigatonireid, @yesimaunicorn, @aworldoffandoms

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid angst #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds reid #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/oc #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner

619 notes · View notes

hizashis-lil-bunbun · 3 years

Text

The Silent Auction- (Hizashi Yamada X Fem!Reader)

This is my contribution to the Citrus Dome Auction Collab! Hizashi is honestly one of my favorite characters to write for and it’s a crime I don’t use him more.

Word Count: ~8.5k

Contains: smut, pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, DDLG (if you squint)

Banner by @ladyshinigami

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I can’t believe this.” You sigh for the umpteenth time, twisting this way and that to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You’re wearing a rich, black, floor-length gown with a high slit up one side and just the right amount of ruching to tastefully accentuate your curves. It was truly a miracle that it fit without the need for alterations, considering you’d had to buy the thing in a rush. Hell, you’d barely glanced at the price tag before slapping down your company credit card, viewing it as a bit of karmic justice for your boss’ callous, last-minute assignment. Sure being a sidekick of Endeavor’s (even a minor one) had its perks, but that didn’t make him any less of a nightmare to work for. As you struggled with the miniscule clasp on your necklace, you replayed this morning’s events in your head.

“The Heroes Gala?” You’d questioned, cocking your head in confusion and earning an irritated groan from the Flame Hero.

“Surely you’ve heard of it.” He’d snarked, the flames that ring his face seeming to flare in annoyance. “The Commission holds it once a year as a way to celebrate our achievements in hero society today and raise money for future endeavors. Dignitaries and heroes from all over the country– the world really– are expected to attend.”

“I’m aware of that, sir.” You’d chirped back, straightening up to make up for your lapse in decorum. “I’m just confused by what this has to do with me.”

If looks could kill, the glare he’d shot you would have put you in a coffin.

“Unfortunately, I’ve been called away on an urgent mission and can’t make it to the gala this year. But since I am the Number One Hero, my agency must provide some form of representation. That’s where you come in.”

Your eyes went wide at that, heart jumping into your throat as the gravity of the situation sank in. As far as your job was concerned, Endeavor’s word was law. There was no bargaining or substitution to be made. He didn’t even wait for a response before continuing.

“Your role for this event is simple: smile, wave, and maybe bid on a few of the auction items as a show of good faith. If you win something, fine. Just make sure it’s nothing… distasteful.”

You were tempted to question the noticeable shudder that ran through him as spat out the final word. But the careless wave of his hand was the signal for you to bow and leave, giving you no room for queries. However, just as you were about to walk out the door, he decided to toss some parting remarks your way.

“Make sure to wear something appropriate. It is a black tie event, after all. And one of my other sidekicks will be escorting you this evening. Call it insurance to make sure you don’t do anything to embarrass me.”

“Asshole.” You hiss under your breath, successfully hooking the clasp shut and putting a few loose hairs back in place. “What does he think I’m going to do? Get wasted and swing from the chandelier?”

Still muttering a litany of colorful curses, you march to the edge of your bed and plop down to slip into the matching stilettos you’d picked out during your brief shopping trip. Shoes like these were normally well out of your comfort zone (not to mention your price range), but you weren’t the one paying for them. Call them compensation for sacrificing one of your precious nights off. Once they were on, you stood up from the bed and carefully made your way over to the full length mirror in the corner of the room. You smooth down the fabric of your dress, picking away a few stray pieces of lint and checking for any “embarrassing” blemishes or stains. But everything is almost irritatingly perfect, not a stitch out of place. You’re about to launch into another tirade against Endeavor when your work phone chimes from it’s spot on the nightstand. No doubt it’s your “escort” (you refused to call him a date) texting to let you know he was coming to get you. Or worse, already here.

“No turning back now.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“This is it.” You hear Endeavor’s other sidekick grunt, forcing you to snap out of your daydreaming and look towards him. You hadn’t batted an eye when you stepped out of your apartment to find Endeavor had sent a limo, driven by one of his fleet of personal chauffeurs, to pick you up. He did have a knack for flashing his wealth and status whenever possible. What did surprise you was his choice of escort for the evening: a man by the name of Buru (or Taurus if you were to use his hero name). Buru was a fair bit older than you, sporting a pair of bull horns and hooves, and corded with so much muscle it was a wonder how he managed to squeeze into a tux. You seem positively miniscule compared to his hulking frame, making you look like a rather odd couple. The driver pulls up to the curbside, quickly putting the limo in park before getting out to hold the door open for you. He courteously extends a hand to you, which you graciously accept before snagging your evening clutch from the seat beside you. You gracefully step out of the vehicle and onto an honest-to-god red carpet leading towards one of the glitziest hotels in the heart of Tokyo, blinking in the wake of what feels like a hundred camera bulbs flashing around you. Reporters and cameramen are clamoring to snap pictures of the various celebrities and heroes, asking questions that run the gamut from classy to trashy.

Buru plods around the limo to join you by your side, giving you a subtle nod to signal that it’s time to start walking. You set off down the plush runway, walking with more confidence than you felt as reporters peppered you and Buru with questions about your relationship to the Number One Hero. Evidently they’d been tipped off regarding Endeavor’s absence. Buru remained stone-faced, his long strides quickly outstripping your much more delicate steps.

“So much for being an escort.” You think, deciding to pick up the pace so as to not be left behind. And that decision quickly reveals itself to be a terrible mistake. Your pencil thin heel catches on a hidden snag in the carpet, causing your ankle to twist and buckle beneath you. You’re thrown off balance, teetering wildly before plummeting headlong towards the carpeted pavement. But before you can fall flat on your face, a set of strong, slender hands wrap themselves around your torso and pull you upwards, your back coming in contact with your savior’s chest.

“Woah there, little listener!” A familiar voice trills in your ear, their hands releasing you once you’re back on stable footing. “You almost took one helluva stage dive! You good?”

You turn over your shoulder to find a smiling face, framed by outrageous orange sunglasses and a well-trimmed mustache. Hypnotic, emerald eyes seem to sparkle back at you and his long blond hair is tied up in a messy, half-bun. You know this man. Everyone in Tokyo with a radio knows him: Present Mic, the Voice Hero.

“Thanks, Present Mic.” You mumble, an embarrassed blush rising on your cheeks. It was bad enough you’d stumbled in front of the press; the incessant clicking and flashing of cameras was reminding you of that. But to be saved by another hero on top of it… it was a little too much. However, the blonde doesn’t seem to care, giving a hearty laugh and clapping a hand on your shoulder good-naturedly.

“Don’t mention it, baby!” He chortles, winking in a way that would seem forced or cheesy coming from anyone else. “Always happy to help. Besides, it doesn’t seem like your boyfriend is too keen on stickin’ around.”

“Boyfriend?” You ask, cocking your head before remembering who you came with. You blush an even deeper shade of red, sure your face is about to burst into flames akin to your employer’s own. “Oh! No, no, no! He’s not my boyfriend. We just work together at the agency.”

“No kiddin’?” Mic says, his grin spreading impossibly wider before straightening up and offering an arm to you. “In that case, how ‘bout I lend you a hand until we get inside? No offense but those heels ya got on seem closer to stilts than kicks, ya dig?

While his radio slang is a bit confusing, you can’t help but find it a little endearing. With a sheepish nod, you grab a hold of his jacket-clad forearm and allow him to smoothly lead you down the remainder of the red carpet. He’s in full ‘Present Mic mode” as you walk together, all winning smiles and carefree waves as the press peppers him with questions.

“Mic who are you wearing this evening?”

“Present Mic! What’s the name of your damsel in distress?

“Mic! Is it true you’re involved in a scandalous affair with fellow Pro, Eraserhead?”

He lets their shameless inquiries roll off of him like water off a duck’s back, only blowing a dramatic kiss to the crowd before you both disappear behind the front doors. Once inside the lobby, Mic walks you over to one of three elevators, ushering you inside with a crush of other gala-goers once the doors open. It’s a short ride up to the venue space, and you can’t help but gasp when the elevator doors open onto an immaculately decorated ballroom. Every wall and archway is decorated with banners in the Hero Commission's signature black and gold colors, festooned with matching sprays of floral arrangements. There’s a live band somewhere in the room, playing soft jazz in the background to create an elegant atmosphere for the evening. But most impressive of all is the view; the farthest wall is made up entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a panoramic view of the Tokyo skyline. The sun is just starting to dip below the horizon, washing the room in an amber light that gives everyone a coppery glow. You’re so spellbound by the scene before you that Mic’s low whistle causes you to jump slightly. How long has he had his arm draped over your shoulders? Come to think of it, when had you slipped your own arm around his waist?

“Damn.” He breathes, carefully walking out of the elevators with you in tow. “This place is bitchin’. So much cooler than last year’s venue.”

“Is that so?” You say, your head swiveling around as a waiter breezes past you with a tray of finger foods. You don’t notice the way Mic watches you, nor do you see the crooked smile that crosses over his face as your tongue darts out to wet your lips.

“Oh yeah.” He says, leading you away from the elevators and further into the crowd. “Last year the Commission rented out some–”

“Mic!” A deep voice calls above the steady thrum of conversation, cutting him off. An equally deep, if not more irritated voice calls out your own name simultaneously. The two of you look in opposite directions, the blonde towards a pair of dark-haired individuals waving him over and you towards your forgotten escort. Buru is fuming, smoke practically pouring out of his ears as he marches towards you.

“Where were you?” He growls while grabbing the hand closest to him and pulling you away from Mic harshly. “You’re not supposed to leave my side. Boss’ orders!”

“Stop it Buru!” You snap, yanking your hand out of his grip. “If you didn’t want me to leave your side, maybe you should have waited for me back on the red carpet. I nearly fell and busted my ass thanks to you! If Present Mic hadn’t been there–”

“No excuses.” Buru snaps back, “I shouldn’t have to wait around because you can’t keep up. We’re Mr. Todoroki’s sidekicks, so try to act like it!”

“Todoroki?” You hear the blonde hero echo behind you, “As in Enji Todoroki? Endeavor?”

You wince at Mic’s words, grateful your back is turned to him at the moment. Endeavor may be a hero, but being associated with him didn’t evoke a lot of warm, fuzzy feelings in folks. And many tended to react poorly when they found out who you worked for. With a dejected sigh, you turn back towards Mic, ignoring the way Buru impatiently stamps his hooves behind you.

“Yes, that’s right.” You say glumly, putting up your mask of professionalism. “I’m one of Endeavor’s sidekicks. He was called away on urgent business and sent me and my associate here to represent him and his agency. Forgive me for not telling you earlier.”

You offer a quick, apologetic bow, hoping to slink away as quickly as possible. But to your surprise, Mic doesn’t scoff, jeer, or even try to suck up to you for favors. He laughs. Not in a cruel or condescending way, but a real, mirthful laugh, infectious to the point you feel your own tension ease slightly.

“So that’s why I didn’t recognize ya!” He chortles, smacking his palm to his forehead. “Although it’s not too surprising. That dude cycles through more sidekicks than a jukebox does music.”

The nonchalant way he insults your boss causes your mask to slip and you let loose a giggle of your own. Buru, on the other hand, is clearly not amused.

“How dare you insult the Number One Hero!” He roars, stepping forward to point a scathing finger at Mic. “Endeavor is twice- no, three times the hero you could ever hope to be!”

“Woah, woah, woah! Take it easy, dude!” Mic says, putting his hands up before shooting you another playful wink. “All I meant was I definitely would have remembered meeting a pretty little thing like your partner here.”

You find yourself blushing and batting your eyelashes at him, returning his obvious attempts at flirting in a more surreptitious manner. Buru just places one broad hand on your shoulder, giving Mic a derisive snort before he starts to drag you away.

“You’re not worth the effort.” He huffs, “Just stay away.”

You can’t resist adding one more match to the fire of Buru’s rage, looking over your shoulder and belting out a cheerful, “It was nice meeting you!”

“See ya around!” The blonde calls back, giving you a chipper wave before disappearing into the throng. Buru leads you to a table at the far end of the room, set with fine crystal stemware and gold place settings. He stiffly pulls out a chair for you, allowing you to sit down before taking up residence beside you. You’re amazed the flimsy looking things can support any weight at all, much less the mountain of horned muscle currently glowering at you. He crosses his arms and leans back with a grunt.

“So… now what?” You ask, absentmindedly fiddling with the gold napkin ring in front of you.

“You stay put.” He commands, “No leaving my sight for any reason.”

“You’re joking right? Do you seriously expect me to sit here with you all night?”

Buru doesn’t answer, instead turning his glare onto the crowd. You groan and flop forwards to rest your elbows on the table, opting to occupy your time with people watching. The ballroom is crawling with high-profile attendees: pros and sidekicks, politicians and CEO’s, celebrities and VIP’s. All of them with money, power, and prestige oozing out of their pores. You watch as the tuxedo-clad waitstaff scurry amongst the party-goers, offering up trays of hors d'oeuvres and honey-colored champagne. Every once a while, one of them makes their way over to your table with some delicious little morsel to offer. And in your famished state, the already excellently prepared food tastes like heaven. But when a server carrying a tray of champagne comes by to offer you a glass, Buru grabs your wrist before you can partake and rudely waves the poor girl off.

“What the hell was that for?” You hiss, rubbing at your now sore wrist.

“No alcohol. You’ve embarrassed me and Endeavor enough as it is.”

That does it. You can deal with villains, Endeavor, even your parents if necessary. But this “personal babysitter” schtick has gone far enough. You stand up from the table with a huff, swiftly moving out of Buru’s reach before he can grab you again.

“Sit down!”

“No! I have to go to the bathroom. Can I at least do that?”

“I’ll accompany you.”

“Like hell you will! I’m a grown woman. I can go to the bathroom by myself without getting in trouble.”

Buru narrows his eyes and scowls deeply at you. You stare him down, refusing to back down from this fight. After a few tense moments, he relaxes slightly and gives a curt nod.

“You have ten minutes.”

You grab your clutch, turn on your heel and march off into the fray, doing your best to avoid stepping on other people with your dagger sharp heels. As you make your way across the crowded dance floor, you begin to recognize the more popular Pro Heroes among the sea of faces. Some of them you’d had the privilege of meeting personally, like Hawks and Miruko, both of whom were currently surrounded by fans and admirers. Others you’d only seen on TV or in newspaper clippings, but that didn’t make them any less impressive. In fact, you were too busy watching Fatgum scarf down a whole tray of artisanal onigiri by himself to notice a certain blonde standing in your way until it was too late. You bumped right into him, bouncing off with an embarrassed “I’m so sorry!” before coming eye-to-eye with those striking green whorls again.

“Oh hey, it’s you!” Mic exclaims, grinning down at you like he hasn’t seen you in ages. “No need to be sorry, baby. This thing’s a rental anyways!”

“But you’re all wet now.” You say, watching him while he wipes the remains of his spilled champagne off his tux jacket. “I can pay for the cleaning fees if necessary. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Honey, trust me. There are worse things to be covered in than free champagne. I’ve been to enough of these gigs to know!”

You giggle and open your mouth to respond, but are cut off by a velvety voice coming from your left.

“Is this the little songbird you were telling us about, Zashi?’

You turn to find one of Present Mic’s companions from earlier, a dark-haired woman sipping her own drink and watching your exchange. She’s dressed in a skintight, scarlet gown with a neckline that plunges almost to her navel. A matching pair of horn-rimmed spectacles are perched on her nose, framing her striking cerulean eyes. Even without their signature harness and flogger, you recognize her as Miss Midnight.

“Yup! She’s the one!” Present Mic confirms, casually slinging his arm back around your shoulders. “What’d I tell ya? Pretty cute, right?”

The R-Rated Hero turns her gaze on you at his words, the sultry look in her eyes causing your stomach to flip a little. Seriously, it should be illegal for anyone to look that sexy.

“Very cute.” She assesses with a nod, “Zashi says you work for Endeavor, yes?”

“Y-yeah.” You fumble, slightly flustered and tongue-tied in the face of her scandalous beauty. “I’m one of his sidekicks.”

“I’m sorry.” Midnight quips back, her lack of manners shocking you slightly. But judging by the booze-bitten blush on her cheeks, you suppose the liquid courage in her system is to blame. “I know he’s the Number One Hero, but I’ve been his colleague long enough to realize how intense he can be. He must have you on a pretty short leash, huh?”

“I’ll say!” Mic chimes in, “He sent along some “nanny cow” of a sidekick to watch her all night. Speakin’ of which, how’d you manage to shake him?”

“Well…”

You glance back in the direction you came from, only for your face to drain of all color as you see a tell-tale pair of horns bobbing up and down amongst the crowd. Hizashi follows your line of sight and instantly sees the danger. Quick as anything, his arm snakes around your midriff and he turns to Midnight for assistance.

“Hey Nemuri, I got a gig for ya. See that guy with the horns? Big, mean, and ugly lookin’? Think you can distract him for a few minutes?”

“No problem!” She chirps without hesitation, tipping back the rest of her brightly colored cocktail before readjusting the neckline of her dress. It makes you wonder how much cleavage someone can possibly show before it crosses the line into pornographic. You’re too busy looking over your shoulder for Buru to notice the subtle wink that passes between the two heroes. And then Hizashi is moving, seamlessly flitting through the crowd and keeping you firmly glued to his side as you duck and weave around the other guests. You have to admit the speed at which he navigates the crowded space is impressive as he heads for one of the darkened archways lining the walls. Soon the crowd thins out and you reluctantly pry yourself out from under Mic’s arm to get your bearings. He’s lead you into a dimly-lit, side hallway, with tables and doorways lining the farthest walls. The din of party conversation and music is more muffled now, making you feel like you’re in a state of limbo.

“Where are we?”

“Silent auction.” Mic answers plainly, “Figured I’d take you somewhere quieter while we let Midnight do her thing.”

“And what exactly is her ‘thing?” You ask skeptically, wandering over to one of the display tables to check out the wares.

“You’ll see.” He says with a smirk, silently following behind you with his hands in his pockets. There are miniature spotlights shining down on the auction items, with slips of paper and pens for people to write in their bids. All the prizes are exceedingly lavish, from baskets overflowing with expensive spirits and goodies to exotic trips around the world. And the bids themselves leave your head spinning, shocked and a little sickened by the amount of money being casually thrown around.

“I’m sorry, the minimum bid for this is how much?” You scoff, pointing at the high price tag on what appears to be a singular bottle of wine. Mic leans over your shoulder to read the number himself, letting out a low whistle.

“Must be some good stuff.” He says with a smirk.

“I’m totally bidding on it.”

“You’re kiddin’ right? Last I checked, sidekicks don’t make that kind of bank, even if they do work for the Number One Pro. What are ya, some kind of secret billionaire princess?”

“Sadly no.” You say, digging into your evening bag to pull out a sleek, black card. “But I’m not the one who’s paying. And Endeavor did say to bid on a few items, ‘as a show of good faith.”

You end your sentence on a terrible impression of the Flame Hero, earning another snicker from the blonde as you place your bid. The pair of you wander the auction area for a while, gawking at the ludicrous prices and talking quietly. Or at least, as quietly as the blonde can manage. You fall into easy conversation, mainly discussing work in the hero world and Mic’s teaching career. Present Mic, or Hizashi as he prefers to be called, is a surprisingly eloquent speaker and his high-energy demeanor ensures there’s never a lull in the conversation. It’s honestly refreshing after dealing with the snooty, intense people you’re used to at the agency. Not to mention, he has no qualms about encouraging you to be a little mischievous when it comes to spending your boss’ money.

“How ‘bout that one?” He says, gesturing to a particularly gaudy piece of abstract art. “I think that would look rad on the big man’s mantlepiece, yeah?”

You giggle and lightly push against his arm, as mild punishment for his goofiness.

“No way. Endeavor specifically said to not bid on something too ‘distasteful.’ And I’m pretty sure that thing is towing the line. What’s it even supposed to be?”

“It kinda looks like All Might.” Hizashi offers, “If you stand really far away and squint. I don’t really know much about fine art. But I do know ‘distasteful’ and I’m tellin’ ya now, this aint it baby.”

“And what would you qualify as distasteful?”

A grin that can only be likened to the Cheshire Cat spreads across Hizashi’s handsome face.

“I’ll show you.” He says, extending a hand to you. You grab a hold and allow him to guide you towards one of the doors along the wall. As you get closer, you realize there are small placards inscribed with a number on each of the handles. Hizashi is currently leading you to a door marked with the number seventeen, opening it for you and allowing you to step inside ahead of him. You find yourself in a much smaller room, washed in the same dim lighting as the rest of the auction area. It’s just big enough for two people to stand inside (three if they’re thin), and the oak paneling and cramped quarters almost remind you of a confessional booth. But there’s no man of the cloth here; instead there’s a screen set into the farthest wall and a small, black button resting on a shallow shelf below it. The screen only displays a three-digit number, every so often flashing red before going back to the number.

“What the hell?” You breathe while stepping farther into the room, allowing Hizashi to squeeze in behind you.

“Welcome to the main event of the Heroes Gala.” He says, closing the door. “The Anonymous Auction.”

“The Anonymous Auction?” You parrot back quizzically, turning around to face the blonde.

“You’re aware that most of the Commission's funding comes from public taxes, yeah?” He asks, waiting for your nod before continuing. “Well taxpayer dollars can only go so far. Especially when hero and villain activity has only gone up over time. Rebuildin’ a city you just smashed like an old record ain't cheap you know.”

He pauses to jerk one thumb behind him.

“That’s why they started holdin’ auctions– this whole gala, really– in the first place. It’s all just a fancy way to supplement the Commission’s budget. And due to the popularity of the auctions, they started offering some more… exclusive items in recent years.”

“What do you mean by exclusive?”

Hizashi gives you another playful smirk, looking at you over the rim of his sunglasses.

“You’re a smart girl. What do you think it means?”

He steps a little closer to you and places his hands on your waist for emphasis, thumbing small circles at the swell of your hips. You unconsciously lean into his touch and your eyes flutter closed for a moment before snapping open once more, realization crashing over you like a tidal wave.

“You mean like sex stuff!?” You squeak bluntly, earning a laugh from the Voice Hero.

“Well not all of it! But there have been some bizarre and kinda risqué items up for sale in the past.”

“Such as?”

“Well, I know for a fact that Nemuri donates a part of her “collection” to the auction every year.” Hizashi states, putting air quotes around the term. “And rumor has it that last year All Might auctioned off a pair of his underwear. I don’t know about that one, but if that’s true, then it explains how UA paid for it’s new training grounds and why the staff got a nice Christmas bonus.”

You can’t help but giggle at the thought of some snobby billionaire drooling over a pair of All Might’s underwear. Maybe they’d had them framed, mounted on the wall like a hunting trophy. You’re too caught up in your ridiculous daydreaming to realize Hizashi has stepped even closer to you, not until you can feel his hands sliding a little further down your sides and a little farther behind you. You’re now chest to chest, breathing in tandem as he leans down to speak directly into your ear.

“So now that we’re in here… what do you say we play a little game?”

His voice is low and smooth, audial honey dripping into your brain. Your breath unconsciously catches in your throat as your body moves of its own accord to press closer to him. The energy between you is shifting palpably, from friendly strangers to something much more intimate and heavy. The room feels like it’s heating up and your dress suddenly feels much too snug.

“What kind of game?” You murmur back, a delicious shiver running down your spine when he hums in response.

“How ‘bout the quiet game?” He says, his bristly mustache tickling your cheek when he speaks. “But we’ll make it a little more interesting.”

You can feel him begin to gently push against you, forcing you to walk backwards until you feel the top of your tailbone bump into the low shelf. Hizashi’s hands never leave your body, roaming lower to finally settle on the plush curve of your ass. If anybody else was doing this, you’d have kneed them in the jewels and run for the nearest exit by now. But for some reason, you trust Hizashi. You want Hizashi. And if the steady throbbing in your core is any indication, you need Hizashi.

“Here’s the deal, babygirl.” He says, lifting his head to rest his forehead against your own. You can’t help the way your thighs tense at the pet name, something that definitely doesn't go unnoticed by the Voice Hero. “You’re going to try and stay as quiet as possible. And every time you get too noisy, you’re going to press that little button.”

His eyes flit over to the device in question before locking back on yours.

“That button raises your bid on whatever item is currently up for grabs. So the less noise you make, the less bids you make. And you wouldn’t want to end up winning something distasteful, yeah?”

You subtly shake your head and crack a small smile at his joke, bringing your hands up to rest on his clothed pecs. You’re surprised to feel powerful muscles rippling underneath his rented dress shirt, along with the heat rolling off of his body and the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Clearly that rented tux is doing nothing for his figure.

“Well what are you going to do?” You tease, running your hands up the plane of his chest and underneath the jacket to grip his broad shoulders. “Seems like I’m the only one playing this game of yours.”

One of his hands leaves your ass to hook a finger under your chin, forcing your head to tilt upwards. He gives you a sinfully wicked grin.

“Oh but that’s the best part, baby. I’m going to try and make you scream.”

Suddenly his lips are crashing into yours, sloppily at first but soon smoothing out into a steady push and pull. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting gently before letting it spring back into place. You sigh into his mouth, a sound eagerly returned by the hero. Your nails dig into his shoulders, bunching the fabric of his shirt as he deepens the kiss. There’s tenderness in the kiss to be sure, but also a fierce dominance that has you fighting against the moans rising in your throat. Hizashi uses the shelf behind you to force and arch into your back before kissing his way down the sensitive column of your throat. He licks and sucks at your pulse point, not hard enough to leave marks but enough to remind you that he’s in control. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, even going so far as to clap a hand over your mouth when he gives a particularly sharp nip. He clicks his tongue against your skin, bringing up his free hand to pull yours away.

“Ah ah ah. No cheating, baby.” He says, moving farther down your chest until his chin rests between the supple swell of your breasts. “If you try to put yourself on mute again you’ll have to press that button regardless. Ya dig?”

You nod and he releases your hand, allowing you to curl your arm around and place it at the base of his neck. Pleased with your compliance, Hizashi hooks his thumbs under the straps of your dress and gently shrugs them off. The top half of your gown falls away, pooling around your waist as your breasts are fully exposed to the open air. They pebble and peak instantly, despite the perceived heat in the room, and you feel Hizashi’s hum of appreciation rumble through your sternum. His hands come up to cup them, indulging in their full weight and supple give as he squeezes them lightly. His head dips down to kiss your right breast, ghosting over the pert bud of your nipple as he places featherlight kisses around the areola. It’s maddening, far too light and teasing for your liking. The hand on the back of his neck suddenly fists in his hair and you pull him closer to you, squishing his nose against the pliant flesh.

“Damn baby. Feelin’ needy already, huh?” He chuckles against you, pulling away slightly to look up at you through half-lidded, golden lashes. You whine softly, still pulling his head closer to your body. Hizashi resumes fondling your breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth while using his thumb and forefinger to toy with the other. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nub, every deft twirl and brush mirrored by his fingers. It’s a blissful sensation, heating licking across your nerves and shooting straight to your core. Suddenly, he gives a particularly hard suck and pinch, pulling an involuntary gasp from you. You can feel his smug grin before you even look at him, and he pulls off your nipple with a soft pop.

“Strike one, princess. You know what you have to do.”

“I thought you said no cheating.” You whine, feeling the fresh slick coating your panties and relishing the lingering sting emanating from your nipples.

“It’s not cheating, it’s part of the game. Your job is to stay quiet, my job is to break the silence. Now are you going to play by the rules or not?”

You look over at the seemingly innocent button and furrow your brow. It’s only just dawned on you now that you have no idea what you’d be bidding on and a bolt of panic shoots through you. What if it was a piece from Nemuri’s collection? Or something worse! Hizashi, seeming to sense your trepidation, briefly raises his head up to plant a soothing kiss to your temple.

“Hey, we can stop if you wanna.” He says, removing his hands from your breasts to cup your cheeks. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m not gonna push ya.”

Your eyes bounce between the little black button and Hizashi’s face, biting your lip in your moment of indecision. It was a gamble for sure, a gamble that could easily cost you your job should you end up winning. But then again… how much humiliation and strain had your nightmare of a boss put you through in the past year? The past month? The past 24 hours? Taking a deep breath, you tentatively press the button, the screen behind you flashing green to signal the successful placement of your bid. Hizashi smiles down at you, impressed with your boldness.

“Fuck it.” You breathe, stretching up to press a chaste kiss against his lips. “I’m all in.”

Hizashi returns the kiss with interest before fully sinking to his knees, running one hand up the slit of your dress to rest on your exposed thigh.

“Okay then, baby.” He purrs, “I need you to spread your legs a little more for me. Lemme see what we’re workin’ with down here, yeah?”

You willingly comply, widening your stance as Hizashi sweeps the bottom half of the dress out of the way and tucks it behind you. The black, lacy thong you’d picked out for the occasion is soaked through, your essence already starting to coat your inner thighs. Hizashi runs one finger up your barely clothed slit, whistling when he feels how damp they are.

“Damn baby.” He breathes, almost like he’s in awe. “These are fucking ruined.”

You resume biting your lip when you feel two of his fingers hook underneath the material and pull it to the side, fighting against the urge to close your legs.

“Such a pretty girl…” Hizashi coos against you, planting a soft kiss to your right thigh before resting his head against it. “Everything about you is pretty.”

You can’t stop the blush that rises to your cheeks at the whispered praise, nor help the way your cunt clenches around nothing. It certainly doesn’t go unnoticed by the blonde as he leans in closer, using his thumbs to gingerly pry your labia apart. He looks up at you hungrily, pupils blown wide with desire as he tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Hold on tight, baby.”

Hizashi uses the flat of his tongue to lick a hot stripe up your slit, letting out a low, filthy moan at the taste. You realize now why he gave you a warning. He’s using his quirk to amplify his moans tenfold, turning his mouth and tongue into the most attentive sex toy on Earth. The vibrations send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, clouding your senses with desire. Whatever restraint the hero possessed dissolves the moment he tastes you, as he latches on to your rapidly swelling clit and sucks roughly. You gasp at the new sensation, hips unconsciously bucking to force his face further into you. He hums and willingly obeys your body’s command, replacing his mouth with a heavy thumb and delving his tongue between your folds to lap at your quivering entrance. The increase in intensity causes your thighs squeeze together, caging in the hero’s head as he dutifully tongue-fucks you. You can already feel an orgasm mounting deep in your core, his earlier teasing and stimulation paying off in spades. But his tongue isn’t enough, even with his quirk.

“M-More!” You cry out, unable to quell your pleading voice. “I need more. Need to cum. Please let me cum!”

Hizashi pinches the back of your thigh, a silent reminder for you to follow through with the rules of the game. With a groan you bring your hand down on the button, ignoring the flashing screen as you grind your hips down onto his face. But just when you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls away from you, breathing heavily and his face coated in your sticky juices. You whimper at the loss of contact, but his hands keep your thighs spread apart to deny you the friction you seek.

“Good girl.” He pants, still swirling his thumb over your aching pearl. “So good for me, baby.”

“Then why’d you stop?” You softly moan, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes. You’d been so close.

“Because,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “The only way I want you to cum is on my cock.”

Before you can fully register his words, he grabs you by the hips and flips you around, pulling your dress up and bunching it in one fist. Your panties are roughly yanked down around your ankles and you have to brace yourself against the shelf as you feel the hard bulge of Hizashi’s pants rub against your bared ass. A sharp smack to one cheek causes you to yelp, and a quick smack to the other forces you to bring your hand down on the button.

“Cheater.” You pant, earning a dark chuckle for the man behind you.

“Name-calling are we now, baby? Just for that, you don’t get to cum until I say so. Understood?”

You nod quickly, glancing behind you when you feel him start to fiddle with his belt and zipper. Your eyes widen when you see his painfully erect cock spring free: long, thick, and with a silver ring adorning the reddened tip. He gives the length a few short pumps, coaxing out a pearly bead of precum that quickly winds its way around the Prince Albert piercing.

“I think someone likes what she sees.” He says coyly, flicking one finger against the metal for emphasis. “Ever been with a pierced guy before?”

You shake your head and Mic smirks.

“Then trust me. You’re gonna love this, babygirl.”

He lines the head up with your entrance and starts to slowly push into you, the initial stretch causing you to hiss in pain. But the burn soon melts into pleasure as Hizashi buries himself to the hilt, bottoming out with a grunt of his own. You can feel the metal ring bumping against your cervix already, a low moan escaping when he gives a few shallow thrusts.

“Good girl. Takin’ me so well. So tight and perfect.” He mutters breathlessly, voice barely above a whisper. The praise makes you whimper and clamp down on his cock, earning a moan of pleasure from Hizashi. He starts to move in earnest, pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. Each forward thrust pushes your face closer to the wall, your breasts brushing back and forth across the cool wooden shelf and stimulating your pebbled nipples.Your mind is floating in a haze of hedonistic bliss as the air around you fills with the sounds of slapping skin and the scent of sex. You can already feel your orgasm racing towards you at a breakneck speed, the coil in your belly tightening with each thrust. Hizashi suddenly sinks his teeth into your right shoulder with a an almost feral growl, blunted teeth nearly piercing the skin. You squeal at the brilliant pain, only to feel his tongue lave over the forming welts, soothing them. You automatically bring your hand down on the button and his pace quickens in response, rewarding you by maneuvering his hips until he finds the spot that makes your vision go white and your mind go blank.

“Th-th-there!” You sputter out, smacking the button before instinctually backing into him. You don’t give a damn about your boss or the money anymore. All you can focus on right now is chasing your own mind-numbing pleasure. He gives a hum of acknowledgement and straightens up, angling his thrusts to hit that spot every time. He can feel the way your walls flutter and shiver, right on the edge of release.

“That’s it, babygirl.” He grunts, licking the pad of his fingers before reaching below your bodies to find your clit. Slender digits rubs tight circles on the swollen bead, the rough touch making you almost sob in relief. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock!”

It’s a demand, one that your body is more than ready to obey. With one final circle of his thumb, the pressure snaps and you cry out in toe-curling ecstasy. It feels like your entire body locks up from the intensity of your orgasm and Hizashi gives a cry of his own when he feels the way your pussy clamps down on him like a vise. He forgoes gentleness in favor of animalistic rutting, gripping your hips to set a brutal and unforgiving pace. His cockhead and piercing continually slam into your g-spot and cervix, lengthening your own orgasm to an almost unbearable extent.

“Shit.” He curses, pistoning into you like a rabbit while his balls slap against your clit. “I’m fuckin’ close. Where do you want it?”

“Cum in me!” You wail, the game forgotten as fireworks explode behind your eyes. “Please! Hizashi! I need it.”

Hearing you beg so sweetly for him snaps what little composure he had left. Hizashi lets loose a guttural howl and after a few harsh thrusts, his hips stutter to a halt. You can feel his cock pulsing deep within you, filling you up with rope after rope of thick, white seed. He stays inside you for a moment, breathing heavily and feeling the way your velvety walls throb around his length. Your body feels hot and heavy, head swimming as you gradually come down from the high. Eventually, Present Mic pulls his spent dick from your abused hole, pausing to admire the way his cum oozes out and drips onto the wood floor before pulling your panties back up. Your legs might as well be made of jelly for how useful they are right now, wobbling on your stilettos as you hold onto the shelf for dear life.

“That…” You pant, “That was good. So good.”

“Yeah?” Hizashi says behind you, tucking himself back into his trousers before smoothing one hand up and down your exposed back. His gentle touch causes goosebumps to rise on your skin, your nerves still overly sensitive.

“Yeah.” You breathe, “I needed that.”

Hizashi smirks and leans down to pepper kisses along your shoulder blades, basking in the afterglow alongside you. You practically melt under his affections, never wanting this tender, warm feeling to end.

“Can you stand?” He asks after a few minutes and you weakly nod. Carefully, he helps you stand upright, brushing a few stray pieces of hair behind your ear while you fix your dress and cover your chest once more. Hizashi then moves to fix his own half-bun, smirking at the way you’re dreamily looking up at him.

“Hey space cadet.” He teases, tapping the tip of your nose with one finger. “Come back to Earth for me, will ya? We better get outta here before your nanny cow calls the cops. Or worse, Endeavor.”

You blink slowly and hum in agreement, lazily looking over at the button one last time. And then you freeze. A new message is scrolling across the screen:

Congratulations! You have won lot #114. Please collect your prize.

“Oh my god…” You whisper, feeling your blissful headspace drown under an icy wave of fear. “Oh my god, NO! What the fuck did I just do?”

“Hm?” Hizashi turns to the screen and it’s too-cheerful message. “Oh! Well wouldja look at that?”

“Why are you being so calm about this!?” You shriek, grabbing him by the lapels of the tuxedo and frantically shaking him. “My boss is going to kill me! I have no idea what I– what he just bought! It could be a dildo in the shape of All Might’s dick for all I know!”

“Hey, hey! Chill out, baby!” Hizashi says, placing both hands on your shoulders to steady you. “Just breathe for me, okay? Nice and slow. You didn’t buy anything like that, I promise.”

“How do you know?” You squeak, trying not to hyperventilate.

“Because I know exactly what they were auctioning off with that lot number.”

“Then spare me the dramatics and spit it out, Hizashi! What did I just win!?”

“... Me.”

The world seems to stop for a moment as you stare up at Hizashi’s sheepish face. You open and close your mouth like a goldfish, your overloaded brain trying to find the right words to say. It settles on a neanderthalic, “Huh?”

“You won me.” He repeats, “Well not forever anyways. Just for 24 hours.”

“I don’t understand. Are you trying to be funny?”

“I’m dead serious, baby! The Anonymous Auction doesn’t just offer material stuff. People can bid on and win “dates” with Pro Heroes. The more popular the Pro, the more money comes in. I volunteered to do it this year since a couple of my buddies did it last year.”

You blink slowly, allowing your panicky brain to process this new information.

“So… is that why you brought me here? Because you knew it was time for the bidding to start on your date?”

“I swear, I had no idea.” Hizashi says, crossing an X over his heart for emphasis. “I just wanted a chance to talk to you more and get ya away from that creep of a partner you came with. It was honestly just a lucky coincidence.”

“And the quiet game?”

“I came up with that on the fly when I saw my lot number on the screen. But I didn’t expect you to actually win the auction. And if you don’t wanna go through with this because of your boss or me, then I totally get it. You can always defer to the second highest bidder. That kinda thing happens all the time.”

You step back from Hizashi and turn away, muttering a quick, “Give me a minute.”

Looking past the insanity of the situation, you had to admit you were a little impressed, even grateful, for Hizashi’s scheme. He’d saved you from dealing with Buru, at least for a little while, and made sure you had a fun time doing it. And besides, it’s not like you weren’t attracted to the man. Sure he was loud and goofy, but he was also sweet and charismatic. Not to mention a damn good lay.

“... Okay.” You say after a few moments of thought, snapping your attention back to Hizashi. “Here’s what I want to do.”

You hold up one finger.

“First of all, I want to find a bathroom and get myself cleaned up. This is a nice dress and I don’t want it to get stained, if you catch my drift.”

Hizashi nods in understanding. You put up a second finger.

“Secondly, I’m absolutely starving. So I want to get some water and food. And maybe a glass of champagne.”

Hizashi cracks a smile at that, giving a chuckle of “You got it, baby.”

“And finally,” You say, stepping forward to grab Hizashi by the front of his jacket and pull him in for a kiss. “I want to collect my prize.”

#hizashi yamada #hizashi x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #hizashi yamada x reader smut #mha x reader #citrus dome collab

243 notes · View notes

wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

...surprise

um okay so here I am trying angst again. this is kind of intended to be open ended bcos might have a part two at some point. im also lazy and has a few time jumps. also if someone could pls explain if you just get pics for the top of these off internet or credit on like gifs or something that’d be appreciated.

Summary: Tom comes home and everything is most definitely not the way he left, nor is it healthy

Warnings: please read with caution esp relationship with food / weightloss, but just generally a person in a bad bad head space, lots of self blame - then next parts will carry different warnings too

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

Tom had been away for months. Months and months away from his girlfriend, separated entirely by his filming locations in Europe and America; while you were busy slowly and steadily climbing the ranks of your law firm. Being an intense period for the pair, you hadn’t managed to see each other in 2 and a half months. Of course, both go you were used to this - 3 years deep into a relationship between an actor and a wanna-be lawyer- this was the name of the game.

But honestly? You both just kept falling deeper and deeper, making the separation harder to deal with - rather than getting used to it as one might hope.

That's why Tom felt such an incredibly overwhelming wave of relief as he dumped his bags just outside his front door. Even though he was exhausted from the travelling, just the mere act of finally phishing out his housekeys brought a massive grin to his face - caused particularly by the sight of his tacky little keyring from a Moroccan market that you’d bought him. That had been your first holiday. There’s that old saying that before you move in with someone go on holiday first - Tom understood it to mean you supposedly see all the bad and ugly stuff people can hide from each other, a prewiring before committing to living in the same space. However that holiday all he’d learned was incredible you are to him. To his dying day, Tom will never forget the moment he looked over to his left when the two of you were on this night time stargaze in the depth of the Moroccan desert. Y/n had never seen stars like it, the skies so incredibly clear and lit up with an array of magical blues and purples and whites on its sark background. The sight, for no unexplainable reason, had you completely opening up to Tom about things she’d never told a single soul. And in that moment he’d had this sort of realisation. Not about how much he loved her - because that is just the cliche thing everyone says… and also just wasn’t true.

In that moment he’d rather realised the potential. The sort of ‘I’m not there yet but I know you could become the centre of my universe’. The sort of ‘I’m not ready to say this yet, but I want to spend my life with you’. The sort of ‘at some point in my life I’m not sure my heart will be able to beat without yours’.

He still hadn’t quite got to explicitly saying all that yet, by asking you for the ultimate commitment. But he planned to now he was coming back to you.

Even with the chill of the early evening winter air, Tom was almost ecstatic as he unlocked the door and let himself in. He hadn’t told you that he was coming home, you thought he had another two weeks on the job, but Tom was a bit of an old romantic - he loved seeing your eyes fill with wonder as he surprised you in whatever way. Sometimes it was as simple as a note on the fridge, or a small bouquet from behind his back or as fancy as a surprise holiday.

However, this time, though it was only 6 in the evening, all the lights of their house were off making Tom raise an eyebrow as he quietly slipped off his shoes - not wanting to scare Y/n just in case.

Tom had sworn when he’d been on the phone with you the previous day, you didn’t have any plans tonight but perhaps maybe a spontaneous pub trip and been offered with work colleagues. The house felt a little cold as he padded through it, poking his head into every room just to check Y/n wasn’t there. His last port of call was the bedroom.

By this point, Tom was pretty resigned on the fact you were out and he’d maybe cook a meal for when you got back or hide about the house or something. But instead, when he poked his head around this door, he sighed in delight at the sight of a still mound under the plush white sheets. For a brief moment, Tom paused, before tiptoeing steadily round to her bedside. The light was still off but the hallway light illuminated the room enough so he could make out your soft features and the messy ball of hair that had been haphazardly thrown in a bun. Furthermore, he could also notice in the light the packet of painkillers and migraine tablets lying opened on the bedside - which made him freeze. Y/n didn’t get migraines often at all, but when she did Tom knew just how bad they could be. That explained the fact you were spark out at six o’clock, making Tom give a sympathetic smile. He crept back out the room with a little spring in his step, deciding that since he had had a long day travelling he'd grab a snack and join you. Unfortunately though, when he enthusiastically yanked the fridge open the sight was a rather depressing one. He didn’t really know what he was craving but the fridge contents were of almost no use to anyone. The place was bloody baron, apart from a tub of butter and of course his special beers that Y/n would never dare touch. With a small huff though, Tom resigned himself to some bread and butter, before getting ready for bed.

It was probably an hour later when Tom was carefully crawling under the duvet to settle in beside Y/n after the disappointing snack and maybe a solitary ‘welcome home beer’ - it would be rude not to. God was he excited to just have his girlfriend in his arms again though. So, Tom naturally reached over and powerfully yet gently pulled you back towards him - making your back flush with his as you mumbled something incoherent. Chuckling slightly at your apparent annoyance of being disturbed, Tom pressed a kiss to her temple before settling down momentarily.

But something wasn’t quite right, making Tom shuffle about a bit - ever adjusting huis grasp on your waist as he attempted to get comfy. With the migraine medications forcing you into a deep deep sleep you barely stirred and that just made the unease increase for Tom. Because you didn’t feel right. This didn’t feel right. Ever so slowly Tom started to peel back the duvet from your body from his now sitting upright position. Typically, Y/n was wearing one of his hoodies, however more concerningly it seemed to pool and collect around your frame more than normal.

Now, Y/n was never the most petite person in the world - by no means overweight, instead of beautiful curves and muscle. To Tom now though, it was as if someone had literally shrunk you - like a picture on a word document you needed to make narrower to fit the margins. Even in the dim light of the bedroom he know realised you looked pale. Honestly, Tom didn’t know how long he just sat there staring at you, until you sighed a little and pulled the duvet back up to just under your chin.

He didn’t know what to think or do. All he knew was you didn’t look well and that you hadn’t said a thing to him. Feeling so very uncomfortable within himself, Tom climbed out the bed and simultaneously grabbed his phone. He knew he had to call someone, to check that you hadn’t been ill - but then who to call? Someone that wouldn’t judge or instantly worry- your mum was completely off the cards. Also, he hadn’t even given you the chance to explain yet, so really he knew there was only a couple of options who were close enough to him too.

“Hey what’s up?” “Um nothing much, back in the UK though so-“ “Oh shit really! Kept that one quite bro” “Yeh well came back to surprise Y/n” “Oh you're soooo whipped” “Fuck off Haz, have you um… have you seen her recently anyway?” “You're asking me if I’ve seen your girl while you’ve been away?” “I’m being serious. You’re pretty much brother and sister and I’m -I’m a bit worried.” “What? You know she wouldn’t cheat especially with me” Haz’s tone turned less serious, using a goofy accent “ I know too much.” Haz still attempted to lighten the mood, this conversation very unexpected and making him grow more and more concerned himself. “Haz quit it. I’m worried she’s been ill. I’ve come in and she’s asleep with a migraine but there’s no food in the fridge and she’s skinny as hell.” “Fuck er sorry I didn’t realise. But um no she’s been cancelling on us for the past like two weeks cos like…I don’t know said she was just snowed under at the firm so” “But before then?” “No yeh she was fine. Went to the pub a couple times and she always drove so didn’t drink but nothing weird - think she wanted to keep a clear head. What are you thinking?” “I don’t know to be honest mate. She seemed fine on the phone but I swear to god she looks half the size of what she was when I left.” “Just talk to her in the morning? She probably is just stressed if work has been mad busy.” Tom hummed in agreement, half trying to convince himself too. “Yeh yeh, sorry for bothering you.” “Oh shut up mate - I’ll see you both at your parents for the roast tomorrow? Sams got some new recipe I think, he’s been wittering on about it for days.” “Yeh we’ll be there, see you then mate.”

After signing off to Haz, Tom placed his phone on the little table on the upstairs hallway and sighed. He knew he was being over-protective but he couldn’t help it. Y/n was always the one to care for him, in fact to care for everybody int he room and then some.

He’d get to the bottom of whatever this was tomorrow, and so the rest of the evening Tom spent rather unhappily get ready before bed yet again before climbing back in next to you.

///////////////////////////

Tom woke before you, a combination of jet lag and the worry in the pit of his stomach meaning he stirred awake first. Instinctively he pulled you closer and nuzzled his nose into the side of your neck as he slowly began to wake up properly - shrugging off the grogginess. Tom was still really excited for you to realise he was back, predicting you to excitedly hug him ever so tight and then spend the morning between the sheets. He knew you found the distance tough, especially when all your closest friends were coupled off, it meant you just didn’t have ‘your person’. It was almost as if you were single again and instead of pining over an ex, hopelessly and completely in love with someone across the globe. But that just made your time together even more invaluable and precious.

So even with his slight unease at your slimmer silhouette, Tom didn't have any control over the loopy grin that came to his face as you started to stir and mumble something incoherent, all the while (and subconsciously) inching closer towards him. By the slight fluttering under your eyelid, Tom knew you were waking up and so took the moment to tuck your frizzy bed hair behind your ear. Sighing contently Y/n’s eyes fluttered completely open and Tom met your gaze with the most gently of smiles.

However, he then watched moment by moment as your expression morphed for one of peacefulness and content, through confusion, and ending at pure terror. He had barely thought of asking you why, before you yelped, throwing yourself up into a sitting position and backing as far away on the bed as you could from Tom. “TOM... I-you can’t be here! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!” “Y/n hey what’s wrong-“ “GET OUT! G-GET THE FUCK OUT! YOU CAN’T BE HERE” you yanked the bedsheets to completely cover your huddled up body, as if trying to protect yourself. At this point, tears were streaming down your face and what truly terrified Tom was the expression of horror in your eyes. He threw his hands in the air and unsteadily stumbled to his feet. “O-okay I’m-“ “GET OUT!!! YOU CAN'T SEE ME GET OUT!” Completely bemused and shocked, Tom just nodded jerkily -already halfway out the door and accidentally slamming it in haste.

He had absolutely zero clue what that was about. But what he knew for a fact? He’d never ever seen you like that… you looked so completely terrified… of him? Tom couldn’t for the life of him work out what the hell was going on, as he paced from the shut door to the hallway wall and back again, running his hand through his hair throughout. He could hear you sobbing and whisper yelling - presumably at yourself. It felt as though his heart was being torn out, seeing you that upset and it appearing as his fault? He was acting on pure instinct and adrenalin because your pain hurt him too. He had no control of the physiological response in his body, making his hands shake and breathing increase in speed as it inversely got shallower too.

And so he took a short inhalation, biting his bottom lip as he knocked on the door. “Y/n?….” He got no response after waiting a couple of seconds so tried again - because he could hear you trying to stifle your sobs. After another two failed attempts he opted for a different approach. “Y/n… I’m worried about you… look, I know your upset right now but I need you to let me know your okay… or I’ll have to come in and…and I don’t want to spook you” “Don’t come in.” It was a sharp reply, with a voice that was cracked and clearly trying to keep It together. “Okay… I-I’m sorry if my surprise of coming home was a dumb idea…I-I’ve missed you.” Tom tried speaking softly, as he knelt down and sat with this back against the wall while nervously fiddling with his watch strap that he’d forgot to take off last night. Again he waited for a response but got nothing, again having to warn you he needed to know you were okay. He heard movements from the other side of the door, making him turn his head to the left, pressing his ear on the cool gloss paint. “I-I’m sorry” You barely were whispering, but Tom could sense you were now sitting in a position mirroring his “You don’t meed to apologise love” Returning her tone, Tom sighed at the end - trying to get his brain to process what was going on.

Y/n wasn’t one to overreact and Tom could count on one hand the number of serious fights they’d had in the three year romance. And even then, he was the one to raise his voice - when she argued it was more reasoned, slow and controlled. Actually it was one of the things that in those moments infuriated him even more - you were just so level headed and sensible. Scratch that, sensible purely in this context - everywhere else you were just as loopy as him. So this situation felt so very alien. He didn’t know how to help you and he bloody hated feeling useless.

After a few moments, you replied to apologise once again, for shouting specifically, and Tom nodded - not that you could see. But that was one of the things Y/n had taught him, sometimes you just have accept things - no matter the context. Accept he wasn’t actually a superhero and couldn’t do everything, accept that sometimes he could be a dick and out of line or accept an apology.

“Can you.. can you try and tell me why your upset? I want to help.” He was trying to be gentle, non-confrontational. But he knew something was so wrong. He needed to know so he could try and help out. “I…”Y/n began, but quickly trailed off, as if trying to formulate the words properly. “I’ve just been ill and” again another pause “and I haven’t been looking after myself very well. I just planned to be umm- to be better when you got back.”

It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t really the truth either, at least not the whole truth. But it wasn’t a lie.

“I’m not sure I understand why your so worried about what I think though?” Tom inquired, as he started to fiddle with the door handle in his left hand - as if easing the idea of coming into his girlfriend without scaring you. In reply, you sighed again trying to put the words together without explicitly spelling it out to him. “I don’t- I thought you’d just be disappointed or-or think I’m reliant on you. I’m not and I can handle myself I just…. I don’t know.” “I love you, you idiot.”Tom chuckled at that, while standing up. “Can I come in now please? I promise I’m not disappointed just want to help you feel better.”

The door opened and no sooner could Tom take a step forward than Y/n ran into his chest, wrapping herself tightly around him in apology. He knew that he didn’t have the full story but really didn’t want to push her, more preferring to just love her. So that’s what they spent the rest of the morning doing, in their pyjamas and watching TV. Quite obviously, she wasn’t really making a lot of conversation, Tom filled some gaps with talking about filming - to which she’d hum in agreement or chuckle along. But for the most part Y/n was concentrating on something else.

The all-consuming guilt. That was what was eating away at her.

part 2?

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland angst

273 notes · View notes

songbirdsingingthings · 3 years

Text

Chapter Eight - Spurred Racehorses

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter ~ Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: Hi you guys! I’m so sorry this chapter took so long to write and post, but I wanted to make sure that it was as good as could be and that I was happy and satisfied with it. I hope you all enjoy!

The day was big and the pressure was on the Yagi family as guests filtered through their large garden gate, all of them flocking to the biggest event of the month; Lord Izuku Yagi and the newly titled Lady Ochaco Yagi’s wedding reception. Of course, the actual marriage occurred earlier in the day and only the closest members of each family were invited which included the elder Lord Yagi, yourself, and Ochaco’s parents. It was beautiful, really. Both of their vows to one another were tender and faithful, and it was clear to both families and the officiant that the newly married couple shared true love. Now, of course, you were able to change out of the simple dress you wore to the ceremony into a bigger and more expensive gown that you were saving especially for this event. It was a deep midnight blue with perfectly puffed sleeves and had intricate embroidery all around it. Paired with a sparkling sapphire hair comb that had previously belonged to your mother along with the prettiest lace gloves you could find, you were sure that you exuded both maturity and beauty without stepping on the toes of the glowing bride.

She really did, in fact, glow. As soon as Ochaco and Izuku entered the gardens, all of the guests were on their feet and applauding with wide smiles on their faces. And while your brother cleaned up well, Ochaco’s beauty spoke for itself. Her wedding dress was gorgeous - a lovely cream color with beading and jewels on the bodice and her veil matched to make her a vision. As soon as the crowd simmered down, you made your way quickly over to them.

“Congratulations to the both of you! I must say, I teared up at your ceremony - it was just so divine.” It was evident that there were happy tears welled up in both of their eyes as they embraced you, squeezing you tightly.

“The music should start up soon - shall we, my love?” Izuku says, offering his hand to his wife. With a warm smile, Ochaco nods and takes his hand, but not before turning quickly to you.

“I know this is our wedding, but I would keep your eye out for all of the young men falling at your feet. Attending receptions tend to spur them on like racehorses in a starting gate.” Ochaco says with a wink, letting Izuku lead the way to the middle of the floor. With a flushed face due to her words and a little spring in your step with confidence, you checked your posture before making your way to one of the tables, perching yourself on a chair. You relished in the little peace you got, nibbling on finger foods and sipping lightly on an expensive glass of champagne. However, the little moment of peace and tranquility you experienced was capped shorter than you would’ve liked by the sudden clearing of a throat. Hesitantly, you turned your head to catch a glance at the speaker, only to be displeased with the presence of Lord Mineta.

“My Lady,” he slurs, his eyelids clearly hooded and his stance incredibly casual. He was clearly drunk - at merely 3:00 in the afternoon might you add - which meant that his occupancy would be even more unfortunate.

“Lord Mineta,” you say evenly, giving him nothing more than a curt nod. And, while you thought just him alone would put a damper on your mood, the addition of several other young men - all of them drunk or at least half-way there - definitely turned your previously sweet attitude into a sour one. Being the lady you were and a partial hostess, you tried to show grace and elegance in the way that you spoke to these men even though you meant almost none of the emotion being conveyed through your words. Finally, you had enough. “Excuse me gentlemen, but I must be moving on to other tables. The job of a hostess never does stop, does it?” You say, trying to fake a smile to go along with your meaningless banter.

“Lady Yagi, may I please have a word with you before you go?” You recognize that voice to be from Lord Ojirou, his face slightly flushed from the alcohol but his expression kind. Breathing out a subtle sigh, you nodded.

“Of course,” you say, giving him a kind smile. Humoring may have not been your best decision of the day though.

“I realize that you and I have not had the proper time together for me to be asking this question, but…” oh god, your inner monologue frets, can this actually be happening right now? “... I have come to ask for your hand in marriage.” You felt your body grow tense. You knew that you had no intention of marrying him, you would definitely have to let him down, but it didn’t stop your stomach throwing itself into a twist. Someone had actually made the move in proposing to you. A man, of a fine background and maintained polite manners, wanted to be with you for the rest of his life - that was enough to spur on the butterflies.

“Oh… Lord Ojirou,” you begin, swallowing the lump in your throat, “your offer is very kind, but-”

“But you must decline.” He says, his smile a bit dampened. With a gentle nod and empathy showing in your eyes, you confirm his suspicions. “It is alright, Lady Yagi, I knew it was quite a long shot. Thank you for humoring me.” He says politely.

“I am sure you will find a Lady that is perfect for you,” you’re quick to say, trying to soothe the sting of rejection. With a smile and a nod, Lord Ojirou bows before you and then steps away.

“What was that interaction about?” From behind you, you heard Shouto’s voice, causing you to whip around and face him.

“Oh, um, nothing too important.” You say, trying not to prompt jealousy from the red-and-white haired man in front of you. Shouto shifts in his stance, looking past you towards Lord Ojirou and then back to you. He twists his cuffs a bit (maybe out of nervousness?) and shakes his head a bit.

“Did he ask for your hand?” He asks, his voice more timid than you have ever heard before.

“I declined.” You say, quick to answer him. “Really, it was nothing important, I knew beforehand that I didn’t want to marry him.” You explain, grabbing onto his hands with your own. Shouto was about to speak, but nothing was able to squeak out as his eyes focused on your hands. Your ungloved hands. His eyes widened, as did yours, but you made no effort to move them. With a clearing of his throat and a wobbly, but giddy, smile, Shouto wraps his hands more firmly around yours.

“Would you like to dance?” he asks, his eyes twinkling. You nod eagerly in return, letting him lead you onto the dance floor as the string quartet readies their instruments. A beautiful melody is hummed out, one you recognize to be paired with one of your favorite dances. Shouto bows before you as you curtsy in return, then offers his right hand to yours. Your grasp onto it immediately and then, like a whirlwind, twirls you into an entrancing dance. Everything is a blur to you, everything except for Shouto. His eyes were like a homing beacon to you, his hold the thing grounding you to the earth. Oh how you longed it was just the two of you, for you would have confessed your love right then and there. You felt like a dandelion, ready to blow away with just a single breath, but Shouto was the person shielding you from the wind. You see him lean closer to you, his cheek grazing the shell of your ear. His actions sent chills down your spine, causing you to shiver in his grasp.

“I’m going to ask for your hand.” He states, simply but strongly. Your eyes widened.

“Right… right now?” You whisper back, your heart rate starting to pick up. He pulls away from your face so that you could see each other more clearly. Shouto smirked and shook his head.

“No, not right now. That would be rather unromantic of me. A proposal for you must transcend the most pronounced displays of love ever shown before. I hope to dazzle you with wonder and gain all of the love in your heart when I do. But, for now, let’s just dance and enjoy the wedding.” You felt dizzy by his genuine words - like you were floating on air. All you could do was nod and smile as he twirled you through the afternoon all the way ‘til midnight, dancing alongside the twinkling stars.

37 notes · View notes

not-so-pleasant-sim · 2 years

Text

Landgraab Family - Intro

Happy Holidays to everyone! I finally got a chance to play the Sims, and today I got to play the Landgraab household. We meet Malcolm Landgraab, Fourth of his name, for some reason it’s spelled weird. So his name is spelled “Malcolm ”, with a space, therefore his full name is “Malcolm Landgraab IV”. Thankfully this was solved with SimPE.

The Landgraab Family has been featured in all the Sims games, either as playable families or just mentioned in the background. However, it is hard to find out how the families are connected due to the different continuities of the series.

Malcolm Landgraab IV is a bachelor who is trying to live up to his family’s business legacy. He was orphaned at a young age and raised by his grandparents according to his album. Malcolm owns two businesses so far and is looking forward to building an empire.

This is Electronics Supercenter. As the name suggests, it sells electronics such as televisions and radios.

Malcolm assigns Tammy King as a cashier. Tammy has no badges, but she can build them up through experience.

Meanwhile, Malcolm uses basic sell to convince his customers into buying his items.

Unfortunately, some customers may not have enough, as seen with John Burb.

Malcolm still practices his salesmen skills and that is enough to win him a Bronze Sales Talent Badge. He can now offer items at a cheap price. (He was not going to do that with John and the flatscreen TV tho)

Despite having an inexperienced cashier (and himself being inexperienced), the business managed to rise up a rank. As a reward I sent Malcolm home to rest and catch up on his needs. He needed to be available enough to check his next business.

This is Club Dante. It is a small entertainment venue. I like to interpret it as an adults only bar kind of place. Similar to a nightclub. Well, actually, scratch that, it is a night club for me.

This is Toby Couderc.

Yeah no. This would cause people to quit. And because this is the Sims 2 where Toby can get another job easily, he can do that. To avoid it, I changed his wage to average. It is only fair for now.

I assigned Toby as a bartender. Look at him.

I didn’t see who made the first purchase, but Malcolm started to charge people for using his venue. They had fun though, so I am assuming it is worth the 12 bucks an hour.

After an average run at Club Dante, I sent Malcolm home. It was late, and he wanted company, so I had him invite Tammy over.

Tammy and Malcolm got on well.

A little too well.

Um.

I do not know if it is wise for Malcolm to sleep around with one of his employees. But that strikes me as the type of thing a Landgraab would do.

And here we end the Landgraab round. Took me a bit longer due to the two businesses but it was fun playing them.

Bonus:

Me during our Christmas gathering.

#landgraab household #malcolm landgraab iv #tammy king #breanna custer #john burb #toby couderc #bluewater village #the sims 2 #ts2 #pleasantview playthrough #pv intro

4 notes · View notes

sagesparrow394 · 3 years

Text

One Night of Normalcy

This is my @sanderssidesgiftxchange gift for @anyarally! I wish you a happy New Year, and I hope you enjoy the fic!

Ship(s): Analogical, background Moceit

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, and Virgil is spending the evening around his boyfriend’s house, and meeting Logan’s parents for the first time. All he hopes for is one night of normalcy, and to stay out of yet another of his parents’ fights.

Warnings: This fic contains domestic abuse, both physical and verbal. There is a gay character who is heavily implied to have been forced into a straight relationship.

----------

Virgil took a deep breath, adjusting his flannel shirt in the mirror. Today was the day: Christmas Eve, and he was meeting his boyfriend’s parents.

Virgil knew there was no reason for him to be nervous. When planning for the day, Logan had frequently reassured Virgil that his parents were kind and warm-hearted people, and they truly were according to Remus and Roman. The two twins had worked with Logan on a science project once and, having gone around Logan’s to complete it, knew Logan’s dads well.

Virgil went to his dresser, checking his reflection in the mirror, before reaching for his make up. After putting on foundation, he reached for his black eyeshadow, only to pause. Would black make him seem too angsty and edgy? He didn’t want Logan’s dads to think he was some evil bad boy - what if they thought Logan could do better and convinced him to break up with him? Maybe he should go for his purple eyeshadow… But what if they thought the bright glitter was too much? Maybe he should just not wear anything. But his face looked so bare without it!

He groaned, holding his head in his hands, before reaching out. If he grabbed the black eyeshadow, he'd use black, if he grabbed the purple eyeshadow, he’d use purple, and if he missed both, he wouldn’t wear any.

He felt something in his hand and opened his eyes. Purple it was.

When he finished applying it, he pulled on his hoodie, before heading to the door of his room. He gently pressed his ear to the door.

Things were quiet. Goo-

SLAM!

Never mind. He stood corrected. He stayed listening, trying to work out where in the house his parents were going as he heard their voices yelling.

“I can’t believe you!”

“It was nothing-”

“Nothing?! NOTHING?! Thomas, I told you one thing, one rule! And you fucking broke it!”

“Nico and I are just friends, we ran into each other in the food court, we were just talking. I don’t see what’s-”

“Just friends?! That’s not what it looked like! And by talking, I know you mean flirting, you fucking slut!”

Virgil winced as he heard the sound of a sharp slap. Maybe he shouldn’t leave. It would be safer to keep his door shut and not risk passing his parents. He’d text Logan, telling him plans were called off and apologising. Then, he’d curl up in bed and hope his dad was okay, and that his mom wouldn’t come and take his wrath out on him instead.

And that’s when there was a vibration in his pocket from his phone.

Logan: Dad wants to know what your favourite cookies are - I’m assuming he’s planning on baking some. I’m warning you in advance, he is very excited about tonight

And then another message came through.

Logan: Though I must admit, I am too. 💙

Virgil couldn’t help but smile a little. Okay, he’d risk it. He’d have to be quiet, but he’d sneak out and would make sure he got to Logan’s right on time.

He responded to the message and then pocketed his phone, before slowly pushing his door open. He tiptoed down the hall and then down the stairs, making sure to avoid all of the squeaky floorboards and steps. Then he tiptoed towards the front door. As he went, he passed the kitchen and couldn’t help but peek through the doorway. His mom was still screaming as his dad, who was nursing a red bruise on his face. He held his breath, quietly tiptoeing past, and heading to the front door. He opened it as quietly as possible, stepping outside, before closing it equally silently. He paused for a moment, and then quickly hurried off.

Knock knock!

Logan looked up from his book at the noise, before hurriedly placing his bookmark in and putting the book on his bedside table. He got up from his bed, before running downstairs, where he caught his dad just about to open the door. “Dad, wait!”

Patton turned around. “What is it, kiddo?”

“I… It’s just… I don’t want you to come on too strongly. No offence, Dad, but you are… a lot. And I don’t want Virgil to feel overwhelmed straight away. So, maybe just head back to the kitchen for now, and I’ll bring Virgil in to meet you and Pa, okay?”

“Okay, okay, kiddo. But don’t leave me waiting too long,” Patton said as he began heading back to the kitchen. “You know how excited I’ve been to meet him!”

“I know, Dad.” Logan nodded. He turned back to the door when Patton was gone, opening it. “Hey, Verge.”

“Hi, Lo… I’m not too late, am I?”

Logan chuckled. “You’re early, actually.” He stood up on his tiptoes, pecking his lips to Virgil’s. “Come on, you can dump your stuff in my room, and then I’ll introduce you to my dads.” He took Virgil’s arm and gently pulled him along, heading upstairs.

When they stepped into Logan’s room, Virgil found it to be almost exactly how he’d imagined Logan’s room to be. There were glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling, arranged to form constellations. He had a bookshelf against one wall that was crammed with books - too many to fit properly on there. He had a desk, his laptop resting on it along with a bunch of papers strewn around and quite a few empty jam jars. A telescope was set up by his window. The sheets of his bed had a pattern of planets and stars.

Logan sat down on his bed. “You can put your bag down anywhere. By the way, if you want to wait a bit to meet my parents, I don’t mind. You can take as long as you need.”

Virgil smiled, dropping his backpack on the floor after getting something out. “Thanks. I think I wanna just spend some time with you for a bit.” He sat down beside Logan, wrapping his arms around the shorter boy before pulling him onto his lap. “Hey, Lo?”

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.” Virgil handed a present he had gotten out of his bag to Logan.

Logan smiled, before reaching over to his bedside. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a wrapped gift as well. “Merry Christmas to you too.” He handed it to Virgil. “You go first.”

Virgil pulled open the wrapping, chuckling as he saw what was inside. “Oh my gosh, I love it…” It was a plush spider with cute little fangs, and purple patches that matched his hoodie all over it.

“I made it myself. Well, with some help from Roman and Remus as well,” Logan explained. “They’re much better at arts and crafts than I am. Though Remus did almost stab himself in the finger with the sewing machine…”

Virgil pecked a kiss to his cheek. “It’s perfect. Thanks, L. Now go on, open yours. I’m sorry if it isn’t as cool as what you got me…”

Logan rolled his eyes, tearing the paper. “Virgil, I’m sure, whatever it is, it’ll be perfect.” He pulled the last of the paper away, eyes lighting up as he held up a soft blue turtleneck sweater. “I love it! Thank you so much, Verge.” He pulled the sweater on. “How does it look?”

“Perfect.” Virgil hugged Logan close, smiling. “So soft… I love how you act so stoic and smart in front of everyone, but you turn into a cute little soft teddy bear when it’s just the two of us.”

Logan’s face burned a little. “Oh, hush…”

Virgil pressed a small kiss to his neck. “Love you.”

“... I love you too.”

They stayed there together, cuddled close. Virgil’s hand slipped under Logan’s sweater at one point, tracing the stretch marks on the other’s stomach, and Logan nuzzled gently into him in response. Unfortunately, however, the moment was ruined by Virgil’s phone blaring his ringtone - I’m Not Okay (I Promise) by My Chemical Romance. Virgil pulled his phone from his pocket.

“What is it?” Logan asked.

“My dad…” Virgil frowned at his phone. He didn’t want to get involved if his parents were still arguing… His mom might be even angrier if she’d found out he’d sneakily left. He declined the call. “It’s probably nothing.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You just hung up? My dad would freak out if I declined a call from him. He’d get scared I’d been kidnapped or something.”

Virgil shrugged. “Eh, it’s fine. It’s probably nothing. Anyway, I don’t want our time together interrupted.”

Logan flushed. “Sap.”

“You love it…” Virgil grinned, pinching his boyfriend’s cheek lightly, causing Logan to gently shove his arm.

“Me being chubby does not entitle you to be able to do that kind of stuff.”

“Hm… I think you’ll find that’s exactly what it means.”

Before Logan could react, Virgil’s hands slipped back under his shirt, pinching his love handles. Logan let out a small squeal, erupting into giggles. “Virgil!! Stop!”

Virgil grinned. “Ticklish, huh?” He continued tickling Logan’s sides, the other quickly going red in the face as he collapsed back on his bed.

“Virgil! Stop!”

“But your giggle’s so cute… I rarely get to hear it. Let me have this? Please?”

Logan frowned. “‘M not cute…”

“Sure you’re not.” Virgil leaned over and pecked his lips. “Definitely not the cutest guy I’ve ever seen.”

Logan raised an eyebrow as his face burned even redder. “Is your goal for today just to fluster me as much as you can?”

Virgil shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t until you said that. Now, maybe it is.” He ran a hand through Logan’s hair.

“You have to be careful, Virge. If you make me look all flustered and unruly, my dads will get the wrong idea when we go down and meet them.”

“... Good point.”

Logan chuckled as Virgil leant back, and he sat up. “So, do you want to go down and see them now? My dad will probably combust if I have to keep him waiting much longer.”

“... Sure.” Virgil paused. “You won’t leave me alone with them at any point, right? Nothing against your dads, but I just-”

“It’s okay, I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“Good…”

Virgil stood up, before offering Logan his hands, pulling him to his feet. The two left the room, starting to head to the kitchen.

“By the way, you know how your dad asked what cookies are my favourite?”

“Yeah. He wouldn’t trust me when I told him chocolate chip, and insisted I ask you to be sure and show him your response.”

“Well, you might be happy he didn’t trust you.” Virgil smiled. “I lied and said my favourite was Crofters cookies, since I know you love them. Surprise.”

Logan smiled back. “You didn’t have to do that…”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

The two arrived at the kitchen. Logan took Virgil’s hand, squeezing it comfortingly as he led him inside.

And there Logan’s parents were. One of them was standing at the kitchen counter, humming to himself happily as he made the cookies. He had ginger hair, freckles across his face, and was wearing a light blue polo shirt, khakis, round glasses, and had a grey cardigan tied over his shoulders. Sitting at the table, Logan’s other father was drinking a cup of tea while reading a book about Immanuel Kant and his work in philosophy. He was wearing a yellow button-up t-shirt and black pants.

“Dad, Pa? This is Virgil. Virgil, meet my Dad, Patton, and my Pa, Janus.”

“Hi…” Virgil awkwardly waved.

Janus gave him a gentle smile, nodding in welcome. “Hello, Virgil. I like the eyeshadow.”

Meanwhile, Patton eagerly turned to face Virgil. “Hey, kiddo! It’s so nice to finally meet you! Lo’s told us so much about you!”

“He has…?” Oh god, what kind of things has he said? What if Logan made him out to be really bad? What if he was about to be kicked out or, even worse, hurt-

No, Virgil, calm down. This is Logan, your boyfriend who loves you. He wouldn’t make you look bad. Not to mention, Patton looks excited to meet you, so it’s unlikely Logan has said anything that would make them hate you.

“Yep! He’s always talking about fun things you’ve done together, and things he loves about you. It’s so nice for him to have someone - he’s been a lot less closed off since you two started dating.”

“Dad…” Logan muttered, face burning red.

“Oh, it’s okay, you know I’m just teasing you. Anyway, you two came down just in time! The cookies are about to go in the oven and I was thinking, while they cook, we could play some board games. Just some nice family Christmas Eve fun!”

“Family?” Virgil could help but repeat that in disbelief.

“Yeah, kiddo. You’re part of the family now. So, any games you like in particular? We have Clue, Monopoly, Trivial Pursuit, Scrabble, Sorry, The Chameleon, Spyfall… and quite a few others! We always get at least one new one each Christmas, so we’ve gathered quite the collection.”

“I’ll show Virgil the shelf of games and we’ll pick one out together.” Logan took Virgil’s hand, before leading him from the room. He led him into the living room and to a bookshelf in there. He opened cupboards at the bottom, revealing board games stacked upon the shelves inside. “Take your pick. Personally, my favourites are Clue and any trivia games.”

“I, um… I don’t really know board games too well.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

Virgil shook his head. “My family aren’t exactly the, uh, sit and play and have family time kinda people… I only really know the games that the YouTubers I watch play. But I have a feeling your dads aren’t really the types to play Cards Against Humanity.”

Logan chuckled a little. “No, they are not. Well, maybe Pa would, but Dad, definitely not. But are there any games here you recognise from YouTube that you would like to play?”

“Um, I’ve seen people play Clue, the Chameleon and Spyfall, and they looked cool.”

Logan nodded, picking up the three games. As he did, Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, you really, like, see me as part of the family? I mean, your parents barely know me…”

“Of course.” Logan stood up straight, the games in his arms. He paused. “It doesn’t make you uncomfortable, does it?”

“No! No, the opposite actually… It’s nice.”

Logan smiled. He gently pressed a kiss to Virgil’s cheek. “Let’s head back to the kitchen. Then we can set up the games, and I can wipe the floor with you all and win them all.”

Virgil smirked. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that, L. I’ve watched enough videos to know the strategies. You’re going down!”

“We’ll see about that.” Logan grinned, heading back to the kitchen. Virgil was about to follow when his phone rang yet again. He pulled it from his pocket, frowning at his mom’s name. “Sorry, Mom, I’m having a fun night. I’m not getting into a fight with you.” He declined the call, before putting his phone on silent. Then, he headed to the kitchen.

Playing board games with Logan, Janus and Patton was so much fun! Virgil had honestly never felt so comfortable around a group of people.

They played the Chameleon first. Janus had little to no competition, winning every single time he was the Chameleon, no one suspecting him at all.

“How are you so good at this?” Virgil had asked.

“I’m a lawyer,” was Janus’ only response.

Then it was Clue. Logan had been the winner of this one. He had gone full Sherlock mode, using deductive reasoning to slowly whittle down the options until he had the murder, the weapon and the place. All three games of Clue they played, he had won.

“You’re so good at this,” Virgil had sighed, staring at him admiringly.

“Elementary, my dear Watson,” Logan had replied, before pecking a kiss to his cheek.

Then, finally, they played Spyfall. Somehow, he didn’t know how, Virgil was the winner of this game. He expected to be a terrible spy due to his very clear nervous fidgeting. However, he was able to blend in pretty well - mostly due to the fact he was equally fidgety when he wasn’t the spy, fearing that his answers weren’t as convincing as they should be. Therefore, no one could tell the difference in his body language between games.

The whole evening had just been so fun. Virgil didn’t want it to end. He got to spend time with the adorable and smart love of his life, and experience what it was like to have parents who actually loved each other through Janus and Patton. The two of them had such a pure, loving relationship with the quick hugs and kisses they shared as they passed each other.

As they’d been playing, the cookies were baked and then left to cool. Once the games were done, Patton placed the cookies on a plate and put them on the table.

“Dig in, kiddos!”

Logan didn’t hesitate to take one, and Virgil did the same just after. He took a bite and his eyes widened. “Whoa, these are really good.”

“Aw, thanks, kiddo! My very own recipe. Logan asked me to try making cookies with Crofters, and he was my taste tester as I tried different recipes.”

Virgil chuckled. “I’m not surprised with his sweet tooth.” He smiled down at Logan, who flushed a little.

And then Virgil felt his phone vibrate in his pocket yet again. It had done so a couple of times while they were playing, but now Virgil was getting sick of it. Why were his parents so desperate to drag him, their teenage son, into their bullshit?! What was he supposed to do about it?!

He pulled his phone from his pocket, going to turn it off. Only to pause. It wasn’t his dad’s number, or his mom’s. It was an unknown number. Usually, he declined unknown numbers. Talking to people he knew on the phone was scary enough. Strangers? No way in hell. But… something about this felt different. Weird.

He gave Logan, Patton and Janus a look that said “excuse me for a moment”, before standing up. He pressed a quick kiss to Logan’s head, before heading out to the hallway.

Once he was gone, Logan turned to his parents. “So… what do you think?”

“Oh, kiddo, I’m so happy for you!” Patton smiled. “He’s such a sweet boy.”

Janus nodded. “And anyway, it doesn’t matter what us two think of him. The two of you seem very happy, and you clearly love each other very much. And that’s all that matters.”

Logan smiled. He got to his feet, walking around the table, before hugging both Patton and Janus close. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank us, Lo.” Janus reassured as the two fathers hugged their son in return.

As they were hugging, Virgil came back in. He was as pale as a sheet.

“Verge?” Logan pulled away from his fathers, frowning. He went up to his boyfriend, who was trembling in the doorway. “Are you alright?”

Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat, looking between the three faces staring at him, concerned.

“My dad’s in the hospital and my mom’s been arrested.”

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #c!thomas #remus sanders #roman sanders #tw abuse #tw domestic abuse #fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #ash's fics #sanderssidesgiftxchange

23 notes · View notes