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wileys-russo · 7 months

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childhood sweethearts (3) II a.russo x reader

series playlist part one part two

this fic really does have my heart tbh childhood sweethearts (3) II a.russo x reader

alessia exhaled shakily, tapping her foot nervously as her eyes flickered repeatedly between the time on her phone and the door to the cafe, counting down each second which passed that you didn't arrive.

maybe you just weren't going to show up at all, could she even blame you if you didn't? it had been six years since the two of you really spoke, and your last words exchanged were hardly on friendly terms.

when her mum had called her to invite her to dinner with your family, her heart leapt into her throat. your name was something that hadn't crossed her mind in years, well no actually that was a lie.

alessia often wondered what you were up to, occasionally in a moment of weakness imagining what would be different had things not gone the way they had between you both.

but she'd banish those fleeting thoughts and insecurities as quickly as they arrived, knowing she'd just spiral into a tornado of overthinking if she dwelled on them too much.

alessia tried to trick herself into believing she was fine with how things had ended, pushing her real feelings deep down away and filing them under painful memories she'd rather not resurface ever again.

but they always did, and no more so then when you'd walked into that restaurant beside her brother and every thought, feeling, memory and emotion she'd repressed the last six years came soaring to the surface, she could have thrown up with how suddenly she was swamped by them.

the pain only grew when you refused to even meet her eye, greeting everyone else first and alessia was almost certain if you hadn't had to sit beside her the two of you likely wouldn't have even conversed that entire night.

"hi i'm so sorry i'm late i got held up at work." she was snapped out of the depths of her overthinking as you hurriedly dropped down into the seat across from her, exhaling heavily and dropping your bag on the floor beside you.

"that's alright, i hope everythings okay?" alessia rushed out, playing with her fingers which sat dormant in her lap as you nodded, starting to ramble on about the frustration of substitutes not doing their assigned pick up duty so you'd had to fill in.

realising you were getting on a tangent and meeting those ever so familiar ocean blue eyes you suddenly stopped, clearing your throat and apologising.

"you don't need to be sorry, you've clearly found the right career. mum was right when she said she was sure you're an amazing teacher." alessia complimented with a soft smile as you nodded, admittedly still unsure quite how to interact with her after so much time.

"so...how have you been?"

"-no because that time was entirely your fault! you were always getting us in trouble." you chuckled, shaking your head at the grinning blonde across from you, your coffees long finished, empty mugs pushed to the side.

"i was not!" alessia defended herself with a playful offended scoff, unable to stop the smile spreading on her face. "you so were! every single time we had detention it was your fault, and any time we got in trouble with our parents it was one of your genius ideas that lead up to it." you couldn't help but smile yourself at the fond memories.

"miss!" your head turned as you heard a voice call out for you, spotting one of your students frantically waving at you from the counter. "sorry, he insisted on saying hi. i tried to explain that you have your own life outside of the classroom." his mum smiled apologetically as the boy hurried over and she chased after him.

"thats perfectly alright. i always say if you guys see me around to give me a wave and thats what you did, charlies one of my best behaved students! aren't you?" you smiled fondly, holding your hand out for a high five which he happily gave you with a grin, waving goodbye as his mum smiled gratefully and hurried the two of them away to another table.

"sorry about that." you apologized to alessia, a slight blush coating your cheeks as the blonde shook her head. "don't be, that was quite adorable. your class clearly love you and who could blame them." alessia complimented with a dangerously familiar look in her eyes as you forced a small smile and glanced down to your phone, eyes widening as you realised you'd been here well over two hours now.

"i should really get going, i've got dinner to cook and lesson planning to do for tomorrow." you smiled apologetically, alessia nodding in understanding as you both reached for your bags. "could we do this again, soon?" the girl asked hopefully as the two of you stood outside, causing you to bite the inside of your cheek.

"look alessia it was great catching up and i'm really glad that football and everything else is working out so well for you. but i just, i don't know if i can make this a regular thing." you admitted with a slight wince, watching as her face fell at your answer.

"why not?" as soon as the hurt was plain on her face it was gone, replaced instead with a firm look of defiance, folding her arms over her chest. "you know why, please don't make me say it." you responded quietly, shuffling uncomfortably and adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

"god you are so frustrating." alessia dragged her hands down her face with a shake of her head. "whats that supposed to mean?" you were now the one to respond with a frown.

"its like i said at the restaurant y/n we were best friends for years before anything changed. we've just spent the however many hours reflecting on how good that time was, i know the way things ended wasn't ideal but why can't we just work on getting a friendship back?" alessia almost begged, taking a step toward you and frowning as you immediately took one back away from her.

"before anything changed...the way things ended? you are so arrogant, as if it was nothing!" you scoffed and shook your head in disbelief that she could dismiss what happened so easily. "that's not what i fucking meant and you know it, don't put words in my mouth." alessia warned, jaw clenching tightly.

"no i think it was exactly what you meant. at least to me alessia what went on between us meant a hell of a lot, and it hurt when everything fell apart. for god sakes we were each others first everything! i can't just go back to being your friend after six years like none of it even happened." you had to stop yourself from shouting at her, well aware that she was a public figure now and though the cafe behind you wasn't crowded, you never knew who was inside listening.

"you are putting words in my mouth. just-" "no alessia, i've spent too fucking long getting over you to fall back into the trap of caring again." you regretted the words from the moment they fell from your lips, cringing with a shake of your head.

"i need to go i'm sorry. i really didn't want to argue with you but i just-I can't do this with you again alessia, good luck with everything." you forced a pained smile, the strikers stomach plummeting as you reached out, your fingertips just ghosting hers sending a bolt of electricity up her arm at the feeble touch, hurrying off away before she could even open her mouth to respond.

it seemed your words had struck a chord as you didn't hear a single peep from the girl the entire week following, it had been days of radio silence between you both and you had spent the whole time convincing yourself that was what you wanted and it was for the best.

you weren't sure what alessia had said to her own mum but yours seemed to be relentless in pestering you about how catching up for coffee went, you once again dismissing that too much time had passed and it was awkward.

though the ever persistent woman didn't take the hint it wouldn't be happening again and had tried time after time to press you for more, and you'd taken to dodging her phone calls all week just to avoid the ongoing conversation.

on the bright side you'd made it through another week and you were settling in well to life back in london.

you'd found a favorite coffee spot for your much needed morning brew on the way to work, loved your new school and your class, had dinner and drinks last night with a few co-workers at a local tapas bar and genuinely enjoyed their company, you were on top of your workload and despite needing to currently dodge her you were enjoying living closer to family again.

however you were a creature of habit and so saturday nights were always your night to relish in your own company, recharge for the week and properly switch off. armed with a face mask, a chinese and a glass or bottle of wine at your side, finding some sort of trashy reality nonsense to engross yourself in for the evening.

your family knew this and knew to leave you be, your friends knew this and had long given up trying to drag you out with them unless it was for some sort of holiday or celebration, and your co-workers you'd only gone out with last night and weren't yet all that close to.

which is why it caught you so off guard for your phone to be ringing at half past eleven at night, you'd almost dozed off with a bowl of crisps in your lap, snapping to attention at the ringtone.

rubbing your eyes you fumbled around in the blankets adorning your body for your phone, eventually finding it and answering without looking at the contact, assuming at this time of night it was either an emergency or a scam.

how you regretted that choice.

"you actually answered!" you winced as a loud and very intoxicated voice slurred in excitement, holding the phone away from your ear at the unexpected volume, music pumping away and people laughing in the background.

"alessia?" "baby! what you doin?" the girl slurred and you could already imagine the dopey smile which would be plastered on her face at her words, and the way the corner of her eyes would crease as she squinted.

you grimaced at how much one simple word could cause years of healing to wash instantly away. one little baby and you were suddenly sixteen again, wrapped up in her strong arms sharing soft kisses and giggling about something that happened at school that day.

growing up alessia wasn't one to ever drink all that often given how much time and energy she invested into being an athlete. though on the rare occasions she did drink you quickly learnt the girl couldn't handle her alcohol.

she was a messy drunk to say the least and anytime a drop of alcohol passed her lips you'd abandon your own, knowing you needed to be there and sober to look after her.

"why are you calling me? and at...half past eleven at night." you sighed, collapsing back into the lounge and tiredly rubbing your eyes. "because i wasn't lying when i said i missed you." she laughed and you shook your head at her words.

"alessia you're drunk. i'm going now, please be safe." you tried to wrap up the conversation, knowing she'd likely be embarrassed about this when she sobered up tomorrow, finger hovering over the little red button to end the call then and there.

god how you wished you'd pressed it.

"wait! i'm really smashed and my friends all left me, i can't find them and i need to go home. i'm seeing double babe!" the blonde groaned and you heard a smash and some yelling, your eyebrows furrowing at the noise.

"call an uber home then, or get a taxi." you remanded firmly but softly, knowing that in times like this she needed things very clearly broke down for her.

"i don't know how! i can barely see my fucking phone screen, can you come and get me?" she continued as you withheld a groan, sharply pinching the bridge of your nose at the seemingly never ending flow of possibilities for whatever you answered next.

"where are you?"

"god what am i doing here?" you mumbled to yourself, insecurely playing with the strings of your hoodie, feeling incredibly under dressed as patrons of the bar you were stood outside of stumbled around with giggles and drunken cheers.

"y/n?" you turned at your name, frowning at the unfamiliar voice as your eyes finally landed on alessia, who was not alone. "oh wow it is you, hi?" lotte spoke in surprise, eyes wide as alessia cheered when she spotted you, you weren't particularly close to many of the girls football friends but that hadn't meant you'd not known or become fond of some of them over the years, lotte and ella in particular were two names who came to mind.

"baby you actually came!" alessia stumbled her way over with her heels in hand, wrenching her bicep away from lottes careful grip. she was dressed in blue jeans and a charcoal coloured knitted vest, toned arms on full display as a rolex which probably cost you a months salary glinted on her wrist under the streetlights.

you shoved her away as she placed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, but had no choice but to grab her hands and steady her to stop her from falling over right afterwards.

"i didn't know you two were..." lotte trailed off with an awkward pause of uncertainty as you quickly shook your head, smacking away alessia's hands which poked at and clung onto you.

"we're not anything. we caught up for coffee once and it didn't go well, and then she called me tonight saying she was drunk and her friends left her and she needed a lift home." you sighed at the realization you'd clearly been played, feeling stupidly gullible as you swallowed the urge to yell at the tall dopey blonde beside you who really you knew had minimal control over her actions right now.

"well she ran off for a bit when we changed bars but then we found her again, we were actually going to send her off home but we weren't sure if a taxi would even take her, she's had a few too many." lotte winced apologetically as you nodded along with a sigh, knowing exactly how the older girl behaved when she drank.

"russo has a secret missus?" a brunette with a thick irish accent shouldered her way to the front of the group, slinging an arm around lotte and you shifted somewhat uncomfortably as her eyes narrowed and scanned you up and down.

"used to, not anymore. she hates me now!" alessia rolled her eyes moodily and you winced, knowing that sober she wouldn't have likely confessed that, especially given how much the brunettes eyes widened at the new information.

"wouldn't have pegged you for the type to drunkenly dial an ex russo, i learn new things about ya every day. she's quite fit though!" the brunettes lips curled into a smile and you felt a hot flush creep up your neck.

"lay off mccabe!" alessia scowled as her arm draped over your shoulder and you grunted as her body weight bore into you, struggling to keep the taller girl upright.

"oo and you're also the jealous type are ya russo!" mccabe continued to wind the drunken blonde beside you up with a grin, another girl stepping in to drag her back to the group with an apologetic smile flicked your way.

"are you sure you're right with her? i can get her in a taxi." lotte offered sincerely, glancing over her shoulder as someone from her group yelled at her to hurry up.

"no its fine, don't let her ruin your night. i know she's ruined plenty of mine before with her drunken antics." you sighed sparing alessia a glance who scoffed and stumbled slightly as you grabbed her.

"did not!"

ignoring her you again urged lotte to join her friends, sending her a reassuring smile and bidding her a good night as you struggled to move alessia through the crowd of drunken party goers and won the street towards where you'd parked.

"for fuck sakes just get in you idiot!" you grunted as you all but shoved her into the passenger seat, clicking her seatbelt in and slamming the door shut.

"why me? why?" you looked up to the sky with a sigh of defeat, rubbing your temples for a second before moving around to the drivers side and sliding inside, wincing at the strong smell of alcohol wafting from the girl beside you.

"don't touch anything!" you swatted her hands away as she reached for the gearstick, sinking back into her chair with a huff. "you're so bossy now, you weren't this bossy before. you used to do whatever i told you!" alessia slurred with a roll of her eyes as you started up the car.

"yeah? well then it took me six years to grow a backbone. now where am i taking you?" "home." "well obviously alessia but i don't know where that is, do I?" "god can you stop that!" "pardon?" "the whole alessia thing, i hate the way you say it. call me less, or lessi, literally anything else!"

"just tell me where the hell im driving you so i can go to bed? please!" you sighed in frustration, looking at her expectantly. "fine. only if you agree to hang out with me again!" the blonde tilted her head at you, staring with half lidded eyes.

"that is not how this works. i'll kick you out right here and you can walk home!" "if i end up dead in a ditch cause you left me i don't think your mum or my mum would be very happy." "maybe not but you know what? you are no longer my problem to deal with or my mess to clean up anymore alessia. you're responsible for your own shitty choices and their consequences! like calling your ex and lying about your situation to come and get her to pick you up, and then trying to manipulate her into doing what you want." you exploded suddenly, hands balled into fists as you let out your pent up frustration at this entire messy situation.

there was a thick silence that followed afterward and you refused to look at her, feeling her eyes bore holes into the side of your head.

"god you look so good when you're angry."

you let out a groan, head thumping down onto your steering wheel in defeat. the comment took you right back again to being a lovesick teenager, alessia's blatantly charming cockiness both equally attractive as it was infuriating even back then.

"just please tell me where you live so i can take you there and be done with all of this." "um...i forget." "you forget? how the hell do you forget where you live!" "stop yelling at me i'm drunk! all i can think about is jager and vodka and tequila and-" "i don't need a walk through tour of the bar cart currently sitting in your stomach alessia. can you seriously not remember your address?" "nope." "give me your phone then, its gotta be saved in there somewhere."

you grabbed it out of her hands with a roll of your eyes when she refused to hand it over, but trying to open it was a fruitless activity as the screen remained black.

"its dead." alessia commented with a lopsided smile and you almost threw it out of your window. your fingers drummed the steering wheel trying desperately to think of a way out of this. you didn't have lottes number so that was out, and you couldn't just leave her here as tempting an idea as that was.

you didn't have any of her families numbers, you knew where she used to live with them but that was hardly close by and you didn't even know for certain if they'd moved or not, and you did not want to call your mum for support right now.

which painstakingly and infuriatingly left you with all but one option as you sighed and shifted your car into drive, pulling away from the curb.

"where are we goin?" "home."

"this is really nice babe!" alessia slurred as you stumbled through your front door precariously balancing the intoxicated footballer clinging onto you, kicking it closed behind you and tossing your keys on your hallway table.

"stop calling me that." you mumbled, dragging her into the living room and pushing her to sit down on your lounge as you rubbed your neck, which was throbbing from having to cart around the girl who was easily a foot taller than you, and being so drunk meant leaning her entire body weight into you.

"make me some food please." alessia demanded, head thumping back into the sofa as her eyes fluttered closed. "what do you think i'm your on call taxi driver and personal chef?" you scoffed, kicking her sharply in the leg to wake her back up as she whined at the action.

"the last thing you need is anything else in your system which could wind up on my floor later. are you sure you don't feel the need to be sick?" you asked for the fifth time this evening as the blonde nodded wordlessly.

"c'mere and gimme a cuddle baby girl." her lips curled into a dopey smile as she opened her arms expectantly, barely able to hold her own head up as your entire body cringed at the long familiar endearment.

"absolutely not, and stop calling me names. you're going to bed!" you refused, wishing the ground would swallow you up as alessia groaned.

"you're so stubborn, and so hot. i miss you!" the blonde slurred as you grabbed her hands, hauling her to her feet with a grunt and stumbling your way to the guest bedroom, sighing in relief as you dropped her onto the mattress.

"no you don't, you're drunk." you replied firmly, running a hand through your hair with a sigh. "i do! i have for years, the one that got away." alessia shrugged, arm flopping across her face as her eyes closed.

with a roll of your eyes you left her for a moment, hurrying across the hall to your own bedroom and grabbing out some clothes. she may right now be the most infuriating person on the planet but you weren't about to make her sleep in jeans.

you hated yourself for caring, why didn't you just ignore the phone earlier?

"jesus alessia." you sighed as you returned to find her with her jeans around her ankles and her vest stuck over her head, meaning you quickly averted your eyes from her half naked form.

"help! i've gone blind!" the blonde yelled and you bit your lip to stop the smile breaking out on your face, shaking your head firmly. "stop that, god you're useless." you couldn't help but chuckle as you helped her strip off the rest of her clothes, again careful your eyes only remained on her face.

"made you smile." alessia slurred with a stupidly attractive smirk, poking at you as you pulled a black baggy shirt over her head, handing her a pair of shorts which she promptly threw over her shoulder.

"alessia!" you huffed as she shrugged, mumbling something about sleeping naked as she rolled over and with much struggle managed to get into the bed.

"god you're a nightmare." you turned to leave her as a hand gripped at the back of your hoodie, firmly yanking you downwards.

"no! get off." you grunted, struggling to wrench her hand away as she attempted to pull you into a hug. "i want a hug! i'll probably never see you again." alessia whined needily as you continued to fight her.

"ohh you always did like when i touched you there." the blonde laughed as her hand accidentaly grazed your bum and your breath hitched momentarily before you pulled yourself free, shoving her back down into the bed.

"jesus christ alessia please shut up before you embarass yourself any further, the less i have to explain to you tomorrow the better." you flared your nostrils and took a deep breath, counting to three and turning away.

"where you goin?" "to bed alessia, go to sleep." "isn't this your bed?" "no this is my guest bedroom, not that i can even really call you that given i had no choice in you staying here." "you can afford a two bedroom flat on a teachers salary? wow baby you're doing good!" "please stop calling me that, now go to sleep." "can't we cuddle? for old times sake, friends cuddle!" "we're not friends." "ouch, way to land a blow babe." "i told you to stop calling me that, now please just go to sleep."

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part four

#alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #alessia russo #woso blurbs #engwnt #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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manfuckthisimout · 17 days

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This look RAHHHHHH

Your relationship with your boss was an odd one. It was obvious to everyone in the precinct that you and the detective were more than just boss and secretary. But you would never admit that, and August D had a weird way of showing his fondness. It was the same way every workday—come in at 6:30, find the detective already at his desk, make him coffee, start the day. He would fuss and scold you for little things, make excuses to stay at your desk and talk to you.

You two kind of danced around each other, an unspoken possessive from the detective, and you playing coy until he finally fesses up that he likes you.

He storms out of his office while you’re scheduling his next meeting.

“Didn’t I tell you not to mix up these documents?” he says, holding up a manila file folder. He looks quite frustrated, cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth, suit jacket off and sleeves rolled past his forearms.

Yelling at you like this does virtually nothing in his favor—if anything it just makes you rub your thighs together. “I’m sorry sir,” you smooth out, batting your eyelashes up at him. “I thought your desk needed some tidying, and you were out in a case so..” He gives you a pointed look. “That doesn’t give you a reason to touch anything in my office. If I want you to tidy anything of mine, I’ll ask you to.” You nod, turning your attention back to the computer screen in front of you.

“Did you schedule my meeting with Captain Jung?” He asks, leaning over the front of your desk. You can feel him staring into your forehead, almost trying to make you squirm in your seat. “Of course sir, I just finished. Your meeting is for 4:30 today.” “Good.” He gives you one last long look over before pushing off your desk and walking back into his office.

You look up from your computer, staring at the deep mahogany that separates you and your boss. “Y’know, we have a running bet pool on which of you is gonna confess first.” Your coworker, Su-min slides over to your desk and props her hand under her chin. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing going on between me and him,” you sigh. “Sure. Tell it to the rest of us.” She chides back. “Don’t you have a case to be doing right now? That missing girl right? How long has it been?” “About a week or so. I really hope we can find her alive, but it’s starting to look grim.” She grimaces. “I hope you end up finding her either way—“

“Y/N! My office, now!”

Suddenly his door was cracked, and you could see him walking back to his desk, waiting for you.

You turn to Su-min and grimace. “Duty calls. Tell me about the case after I get done with this.” She grins at you. “Don’t start fooling around in there, keep it PG!” You roll your eyes, standing from your desk and walking into the detective’s office.

“You called for me detective?” You answer sweetly. “Sit. I have something to talk to you about.” You sit in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, feeling his eyes on you the whole time. He gets up and rounds the front of his desk, leaning against it to look at you better. “We’ve known each other for quite sometime now,” he starts, arms folded and head down. He smirks. “You and I both know that I’ve been dancing around you these past years-“ “Is that what you call it sir?” He pauses. “Excuse me?” “Is that what you call it, this situation I mean. I was very aware of your feelings about me from the day we met sir. The whole precinct knows how you act around me.” “..I’ve been that bad at hiding it then?” “Pretty much.”

He sighs. “I know I haven’t been…vocal..about my feelings for you. I’d like to fix that. Do you want to go to lunch with me sometime?” You smile at his bluntness. He’s always been bad with words like this, saving his poetical vocabulary for high-stress situations with criminals. “What’s so funny?” He asks, brow raised, smile on his face. “You are. You’re so bad with words sir..” You giggle. He leans down, gripping either side of the arms on the chair. He’s so close to you now, noses almost touching. “I am, hm? And that’s funny?” You nod. He chuckles. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you.” “Lunch right? What time?” “Lunch time.” You grimace. “Well, I assumed that much. 12 or 1?” “12:30.” “12:30 it is. I’ll mark it on your personal calendar.”

He lifts himself from his position, rounding his desk again and sitting in his chair. He stares at you longingly. “I’d suggest you get back out there. Wouldn’t want to keep the office waiting on who won that bet.” You chuckle. “Yes sir.”

Second fic rawr

This came to me in a feverish daydream

Also because of boredom

Hope you like!!

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hothothotch · 9 months

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Heeey ! I have a Hotch request 😄

Context: she’s one of his first case, some young girl who hacked the Pentagone to make a point to a teacher that you don’t have to be good in class to be a genius in something. They try to arrest her but she didn’t did anything just enter their server and disconnect. But all the way into interrogation she flirts with him. They let her go and he sees her a couple years later?

I don’t know how to end this, but yeah just a thing I got in my head for a while 🥹

hey! i loved writing this one and, again, i want a part two of it, so maybe you should expect one haha. i hope you like it, anon <3

Requests are open!

1991

"I'll plead the fifth in this one..." you smirked up at Agent Hotchner, batting your eyes seductively — or as seductively as you believed you could be — as you observed him through your eyelashes, "And I'm very good at pleading, just so you know".

Aaron didn't react visibly, even though the urge to roll his eyes was definitely there. After a few minutes of interrogation (probably ten, but he wasn't sure, since you were a delight to hear — ironically speaking), Aaron had lost count of how many flirtatious comments you had thrown at him, the situation way more annoying considering that his boss, SSA Gideon, was sitting by his side, observing everything with as neutral as an expression he could have, clearly as unamused as Aaron.

"Oh, come on!" you groaned, clearly unpleased with Aaron's lack of response to your flirt, "You can laugh, right? There's nowhere on your contract saying 'FBI Agents have to be stiff and serious, even the hot ones'!".

"I don't usually laugh when interrogating someone" Aaron replied, opening up the file he had in front of him to read your name out loud, "Much less when they invade the Pentagon's system".

You tried to bit back the proud smile that showed up on your face at the acknowledgment of what you've done — you highly doubted one of those Agents would clap their hands at your achievement, and still you'd rather face them than your parents, that were probably fuming on their way to the Bureau.

If SSA Hotchner and Gideon's faces were the last things you'd see for the rest of your life (that probably wouldn't be as long as you once thought it would), you might as well fall in style.

"That was impressive, wasn't it?" you asked, your voice clearly smug as you leaned against your chair, "I'm really good at that!".

"Not that much" SSA Gideon intervened, "I can name a few hackers that can do the same".

You raised one brow in defiance, trying to mask the way his words had evidently hurt your ego, "I didn't say I'm unique, I said I'm impressive. There's a difference" you pointed in a matter-of-factly way, before turning back at Agent Hotchner, "From now on, I'm only answering your questions, pretty boy".

"It's Agent Hotchner".

You chuckled, "Okay" you nodded curtly, "Pretty Agent Hotchner boy".

That time you saw the way he reacted, his body language denouncing you was starting to frustrate him. If you didn't know it was overstepping — more than you've already overstepped — you probably would make a joke about how you could help him with his frustration, but you weren't really into going to jail over harassment.

Trying to exhaust his patience was one thing. Crossing the line between amusement and crime was something you didn't want to do.

Oh, yeah. You had hacked into the Pentagon.

"Okay, look..." you started, straightening your pose on your chair, grimacing when the metal of the cuffs (an unnecessary accessory, if you will) skimmed on your skin, a clear indicative that you'd soon have a new bruise at that spot, "I've hacked into the Pentagon, true" she directed a pointed look at Gideon, rolling her eyes, "Yes, I'm aware there are a lot of other hackers that can pull that out, but I had a point to make!".

"Which was?" Aaron questioned, his eyes still trained on you. With a quick look to his hand, you noticed he was wearing a wedding band — golden, brilliant; he was probably freshly married. You questioned if he looked at his wife in that intimidating way, or if it was reserved to people like you, or that he judged to be like you.

You took a deep breath, leaning against your chair, "I'm graduating on MIT" you started explaining, even if you knew they could find that information on your file, and that they probably already knew that, considering you'd been smart enough to hack into the Pentagon from your college's computer, but not enough to hide your tracks, "And I was unlucky enough not to get good grades at this specific subject, and my teacher made a point to humiliate me in front of everyone. So I made a point in showing her that while she's theoretically smart, I'm technically smart".

The single raise of Agent Hotchner's brow was enough to reveal what he was thinking about you after your explanation — that you were a spoiled child, that you couldn't have things any other way except for yours, that he could have you arrested solely by how bad your reasoning had been.

"Yeah, pretty Agent Hotchner boy..." you crossed your arms in front of your body, "Not everyone is born with everything on a silver plate, y'know? My attention is not as good as it was supposed to be".

Aaron switched a quick glance with Gideon, his demeanor betraying nothing as they kept their eyes locked for a few minutes, expectation suddenly building on your body along with the urge to pick at your nails, an anxious behavior you had.

"Let her go" Agent Gideon finally said, standing up from his chair, turning his back on you both to walk out of the interrogation room.

"What?" you squealed in confusion, placing the palms of your hands on top of the metallic desk you had between Agent Hotchner and you, "That's all?".

Aaron hummed in agreement, standing up to grab the cuff keys' in his pockets, his hands brushing with yours for a second, and you could swear there was a sudden electricity on that touch, causing you to push your hand away.

He looked up at you with one brow raised again, his voice a bit more humored now, "What? You want to be arrested?".

"You arrested me, pretty Agent Hotchner boy" you reminded, shaking your cuffed hands, "And while I think being cuffed is sexy, I can't wait to remove those. They're hurting my pulse".

"You should've told us, we'd lose it a bit" he shrugged, opening the lock expertly, before sitting on the desk, "You only logged into the system and turned it off. We can't arrest you for turning the computers off, so you're free to go".

You faced him for a while more, trying to find something to say, maybe a snarky remark — a joke? But nothing came to mind. So you only nodded, standing up from the chair with a smile.

"So off I go" you told him, massaging your pulses, "Guess we won't see each other again, pretty Agent Hotchner boy".

Aaron shook his head, crossing his arms, "I hope not".

"Ouch" you put your hand over your chest dramatically, "You wound me, honey. Hope you don't miss me too much".

Aaron finally allowed himself to roll his eyes, standing up from the desk to walk toward the door, "It won't be a problem".

...

2011

You were honestly — and positively — surprised when the message arrived in your inbox, the (a rather last minute) white invitation warming your heart in a way you didn't think it would.

JJ and Will were getting married.

It was a surprise not because you thought you wouldn't be invited, but because you didn't think it would happen at all; the last time you and JJ talked (only a year prior to that date), the woman had been pretty straightforward about not being ready to get married, even if Will clearly was. You were surprised to know that he supported her and it wasn't an issue, even though JJ sometimes complained about how they ended up fighting over the topic.

You were happy they finally got to an agreement. And even happier that their agreement gave her an excuse to leave her house, even for only a few hours.

"You look beautiful!" you stated once you spotted JJ on the dancefloor, bringing her for a hug when she finally recognized you.

"I can't believe you're here!" JJ held you against her body happily, and you could feel her smile on your shoulder as she rocked you from side to side, "I thought you were in Paris!".

You nodded when she pulled back, allowing you to move and embrace Will, that had a similar smile on his face, "I was. But the Pentagon called me back and I was forced to come back. Which is a loss, because I was starting to get used with the accent. And the paycheck".

Will shook his head, laughing at your last comment, "I'm sure Interpol will be missing a great Agent".

"That they will" you nodded eagerly, playfully throwing your hair over your shoulder, "I was their jewel, and now they have nothing. But I'm happy to be back home. Will be even happier when I find a good house for me, since I've sold my old house".

"Oh, that's your lucky day!" JJ commented, immediately taking your hand in hers, already guiding you through the dancefloor to a table where a few people were gathered, laughing at something one of them had said, "My friends' neighbor just passed away, and their old apartment is vacant. Maybe you can rent it".

You smiled, ready to give JJ an answer when you looked at the table again, your eyes widening at the sight of one man in the middle of the group. You froze in your place when you recognized him, your jaw slightly dropped when your eyes met, recognition clearly passing through his eyes as well.

You heard JJ saying your name, and you were fairly aware that she was introducing you to the group, though the only name you managed to hear was, "This is Aaron Hotchner, my boss, and friend".

Boss. It was curious — last time you've seen Agent Hotchner (or pretty Agent Hotchner boy, as you once called him), he was an Agent working under Jason Gideon's supervision.

Ten years had gone by, though. A lot had changed. You, to begin with.

"Oh, huh... hi!" you waved at the group, trying to pretend you had gathered any of their names, "JJ was telling me that one of you had a neighbor who had passed and may have an apartment free for me?".

Aaron — who seemed to be on a trance just as you'd been in the past few seconds — cleared his throat at your question, trying to brush away the embarrassment of how you kept looking at each other. If someone in his group noticed, though, none of them made a comment about it.

"That would be me" he stated, and you held the urge to mutter an 'of course that is', "Maybe we can talk—".

"On the dancefloor" the old man beside him suggested, nudging Aaron slightly with a mischievous smirk on his lips as he took a sip of his drink (whiskey, you deduced), "Do you like to dance?".

"Very much" you nodded, directing your response at the man who asked the question, but your eyes were focused on Aaron, "That's one of my technical skills".

If there was any doubt to Aaron that you remembered him, this doubt fade away at that exact moment — and you noticed it by the way his body language immediately changed, going from an almost nervous one to a more relaxed one.

"I guess you can show me, then" Aaron offered his hand to you, a smile appearing on his face when you immediately accepted it, guiding you back to the dancefloor, "Let's just try and not be arrested tonight, okay?".

You snorted, patting on his shoulder when the song turned into a slower one, and your eyes met one more time before you replied, "I won't make any promises".

Thank you for your request ✨

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner oneshot

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sailorholly · 10 months

Text

Strictly Business Pt 2

Summary: Spencer wants to gain sexual experience before asking out his dream date. You just want a way to release stress. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Smut. Oral (f. receiving). 18+ only. Minors DNI. Typical Criminal Minds violence and case descriptions.

W/C: 1.2K

See the Strictly Business Masterlist here

Catch up here: Part One

The morning after Rossi’s, you got called in on a case. Three bodies were discovered and you all knew you had to work quickly or there would be another.

You and Spencer decided to wait until after you were home from the case to begin your physical relationship. You quickly learned it was easier said than done. Hotch paired the two of you on the way there. So you were around each other constantly. Your body was hyper aware of every move he made.

You were sure you had a similar effect on him. He would sneak glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You could tell he was thinking about it too. You had caught him checking you out on more than one occasion.

It was like you were drawn together like magnets, always finding excuses to touch each other. His long legs would brush against yours while sitting. You would touch his back when you walked by. When going over files, both of you placed your hands on the other’s and let it linger a little too long. You were practically bubbling with anticipation.

It was taking longer than usual to find this unsub. The stress was affecting the whole team. You were starting to take your frustration out on each other. It all came to a head when Derek and Penelope started fighting when she couldn’t find the answers he needed.

His misplaced anger was the last straw for Hotch. He told everyone to take the night off. He wanted you to relax and try to rest.

You just got out of the shower. You stayed in longer than you expected, but you were enjoying the spray of the warm water on your tired body. You put on a tank top and shorts. Your nightly skincare routine is interrupted by a knock on your hotel room door.

You look through the peephole to find Spencer pacing the hallway outside. You open the door letting him in. “Hey, was there a break in the case? I can be ready in a few minu-“ Spencer cuts off your sentence by placing his large hands against the sides of your face, his lips moving eagerly against your own. He pulls away as quickly as he began. You didn’t have time to reciprocate the kiss.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve wanted to do that all week. I thought if I just did it quickly, my nerves would subside. But it didn’t work.” He smiles at you sheepishly, his whole face turning different shades of red.

“It’s okay. I’m really nervous too. It’s all I can think about. Do you want to start tonight?” “Yes!” Spencer answers almost too quickly. You giggle and take his hand leading him to the bed. “Let’s talk about what you’ve done before so I know what you’re familiar with.”

“I’ve had sex once.” he replies. “Okay, what did you do during sex? Did you use your fingers?” He keeps his eyes on yours shaking his head no. “So you went down on her?” “No, I didn’t do that either.” Your eyes widen.

“So you just put it in?! Spencer, you have to get women ready first.” “I know that!” he says defensively. “You’ve read so many of my romance books, surely you know what to do.” He clears his throat. “Yes, in theory, but having you right here in front of me is completely different.”

“I wanted to do something to her, but she didn’t give me the chance. She started kissing me. One thing led to another and she lifted her skirt and got on top of me. It was over before I knew it.” You sigh, “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

You decide to start with kissing to get comfortable with each other. This time the kiss isn’t rushed. It almost feels natural. Spencer pulls away first. He nips at your earlobe. Your breath hitches when his lips latch onto your neck. He sucks the tender skin there causing a moan to escape your lips.

He pulls away, his gaze falls to your face trying to gage your reaction. You place your hand on his thigh. “That was great. I think we can move on now. Is there anything in particular you want to start with?”

Spencer lowers his eyes to your tank top, your nipples visible through the thin fabric. You take his hand placing it on your breast. Spencer loudly swallows. “It’s okay, Spence. I want you to touch me.”

That was all the confirmation he needs. Slender fingers begin toying with your nipple. His other hand pushes you gently against the bed. His mouth descends on your hardened peak through your shirt. You arch upward into him.

His movements are more confident now. His hands travel to the hem of your tank top, lifting it over your torso and off you completely. Wandering hands find their way back to your chest. He gently kisses down your stomach while he rolls your nipples between his long digits.

When he reaches the waistband of your shorts, he stops looking up at you. “Is this okay?” You squirm under his intense gaze. “Yes, please touch me.” Your response comes out needier than you expected. He smiles, loving the effect he’s having on you.

He slowly slides your shorts down your legs, leaving you exposed to him. He swipes a finger down your center, collecting the wetness already gathered there. “You’re so responsive. So wet and I’ve barely touched you.”

You watch incredulously as he places his finger in his mouth. He gently sucks before removing it with a loud pop. “Can I taste you?” he asks as casually as if he was asking to borrow a pen.

You raise up on your elbows to look down at him posed between your open legs. “I think I might die, if you don’t.” Spencer scrunches his nose before responding. “Actually it’s not possible to die from-“ “Spencer, please?!” You interrupt him with your begging.

He smirks lowering his face to your waiting heat. You almost fly off the bed when he licks a hot stripe up your center. One hand grabs your hip pulling you down. He places the other over your stomach to hold you in place.

He dives in, eating you like you’re the best meal he’s ever had. His lips tug on your clit. You reach down tangling your hands in his curls, pulling him closer. His moans vibrate against you, adding to the pressure building low in your stomach.

He laps at your core taking everything you give him. Your body arches toward him, but he firmly presses you back into the mattress. You dig your heels into his back. You can feel his fingers pressing into your hips, you know there will be bruises in their place tomorrow. But you don’t care.

He fastens his soft lips around your clit, lightly sucking while his tongue flicks rapidly against you. He doesn’t slow down when you shatter. Your legs shake around his head, cries of his name fill the otherwise silent room.

When you come back down, Spencer pulls away. He places a light kiss to your inner thigh. You sit up, handing him your discarded tank top to wipe his mouth. “You got a little something there.”

You point to your own mouth failing to conceal your smile. Spencer snakes his tongue out, licking your remaining arousal off his lips. Although he said it was impossible, you weren’t sure you would survive this.

Part Three

Tags (if you wanna be added let me know!)

@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @modern-mermaid @analethicia @marimorena06 @ghostheartbeat @clownprincess09 @thebiggestscamislife @whistle1whistle @lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests @twsssmlmaa @cynbx @padlockedhearts @wheredafandomat @salempoe @emarich7 @itzdarling @baku-hoes-blog @anonymously-ominous @arabis-world

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid self insert #strictly business

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badingsm · 6 months

Note

can i request something filipino?like filo reader brings nat in the ph and then they try street foods??

The Proposal Series — II. Immigration, Homecoming, Romanoff

Hi Anon! I hope it's okay to combine your request with my little series! Also, sorry for the delay; I got really busy with school. And oh, credits to The Proposal movie, especially the script and the plot, because obviously that's where this story will go!

"1023, 1024, 1025, 1026-"

"Will you please shut up?" Natasha snapped from beside you, her sunglasses covering half of her face as you both rode her car to the immigration office. "God, you're so annoying!"

"I'm sorry, if somebody's annoying here, it would definitely be you!" You muttered lowly with a frown before looking at her directly in the eyes. "This is so fucking illegal."

"Where's the fun with always being on the legal side?"

"I'm not going to marry you, Natasha." The first name basis was such a bold move for you to do, but with the pressure, fear, and everything that you've been feeling, you couldn't care less, causing the latter to glare at you with those forest gems that she owned.

"Sure you are." Was the last thing that she replied before her side of the door was opened by the driver, leaving you frustrated with her attitude and everything about her.

You followed Natasha inside, and there you saw the really long line that made your boss curse to herself. Just as you were about to go and line up, Natasha had already left your side, instead opting to go straight to the counter and making the people (who have been waiting for so long) groan in annoyance.

"The line.."

"Shut up and just follow." She instructed as if you're her dog that she could boss around everywhere and anytime she pleases. The next person on the line was about to approach the personnel, but Natasha had already taken her spot with a simple glare. The older woman immediately backed away. "I just need to ask him something."

"Hi!" You smiled apologetically. "Sorry for the..."

"I need for you to file this fiancé visa for me," Natasha said to the in-charge worker at the cubicle, the latter shaking his head in annoyance but nonetheless accepting the papers that you've brought. "Thanks."

"Miss Romanoff?" Cris, as you saw from his name tag, read through the file.

Natasha nodded in confirmation, "Yeah."

"Please come with me."

"I want to puke," You whispered in the silence that fell into the room. You were led into an office where papers for people's visas and such are being processed. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Morning, lovebirds!" A man came in, and you were guessing that he's probably in his early 40s. "I'm Mister Loki Laufeyson, and you must be Y/n.." He faced you, making you answer with a small nod because you were still unsure about everything that's been happening recently. "And you must be Miss.."

"Romanoff." Natasha continued with a subtle eye roll because she knew deep inside that she would hate this man for the rest of her life.

"Yes." Loki nodded. "Sorry about the wait. It's a busy day today, as you can see from the long line."

"Yeah, yeah." Your boss cut him off. "And we appreciate you for seeing us on such short notice."

Insert sarcasm.

It's her nature, and she can't help it anymore.

"Okay." The older man shrugged and began sitting on his chair. "Blablablablablablabla.."

You watched him through uncertain eyes as he surveyed all the files that you were tasked to prepare at the last minute before you both came here for this shit.

"So I have one question for you," Loki sighed. "Are you both committing fraud to avoid her deportation? And so she could keep her position in the company?"

"That's... that's ridiculous."

"Where did you get that?" Natasha squinted her eyes, scoffing sarcastically but subtly.

"We had a phone tip this afternoon from a woman named-"

"Sharon." The redhead guessed correctly.

"Sharon Carter." The man agreed impressively.

"Poor Sharon. I'm sorry, you see.." Natasha faked sympathy, remaining standing by the side with her phone clutched tightly against her palm. "Sharon is nothing but a disgruntled employee that I just fired because of her tardiness and laziness. I believe this is just her way for some childish revenge for me… And we know that your department is very busy, so if you just give us the next step, we'll be out of your hair and on our way."

"Miss Romanoff, please." Loki gestured the chair for the redhead to sit, which she obeyed immediately. "Let me explain the process that's about to unfold. Step one will be a scheduled interview. I'll put you into a room where I ask every little question that a real couple should know about each other."

"Mm." You gulped nervously.

"Step two: I dig deeper. I look at your phone records. Talk to your neighbors. Interview your co-workers about your relationship." Loki said firmly, "And if your answers don't match up, you." He pointed at Natasha, "Will be deported immediately."

"Hm.." Natasha nodded with a shrug.

"And you, young lady." You think he's flirting with you when he turns to your side, but it's gone as soon as you blink your eyes, swallowed by the nerves settling in. "Will have committed a felony punishable by a fine of $250,000 and a vacation of five years in the federal prison."

The weight of everything had finally sunk in, and you felt the sweat building up intensely against your chest, your hairline, your armpits—your whole body.

"So," Loki fake-whispered, scrutinizing you with his gaze as if he's challenging you and wants you to give in already. "Wanna tell me something?"

At first, you shook your head, thinking about how you would lose your job and how everything that you've worked hard for (including dealing with the unbearable attitude of Natasha for three years) would come to waste, but then you also remembered that you didn't want to end up in jail for that long, making you nod your head a little bit to answer him.

"Yes?" He questioned, not paying attention to Natasha's foot stomping yours with her heels underneath the table, causing you to shake your head, silently signaling the redhead to stop it already. "No?"

"The truth is.." You cleared your hoarse throat, gathering all your thoughts and setting aside your emotions until further time. "Mr. Laufeyson, the truth is.."

Meanwhile, Natasha sat there with a clenched jaw, looking back and forth between you and Loki, waiting for the outcome of what your next words might bring, but to her surprise, it came out well for her side, especially when you spoke again.

"Natasha and I..." You breathed out deeply, nervously plucking the skin on your fingers beneath the view of this man. "Are just two people who weren't supposed to be in love but did. The reason we can't tell anyone we work with is because of my promotion that's coming up, and we don't want them to think that I only got that because we're in a relationship... We don't want that, of course."

"Promotion?" Natasha raised her brow.

You continued, feeling more confident this time, "We both felt that it wouldn't be the right time to reveal everything, so we kept our relationship secret to everyone. As I said, we don't want them to think that I'm getting promoted just because we are... you know."

"So," He mumbled. "Do your parents know about this?"

"Uh, parents. Don't have one." Natasha quickly cut in, "Adaptive ones, sure, but we've lost contact since I was just a child. Technically, no parents on my side to tell this about."

Loki faced you, "And you? Are your parents dead?"

"No." Your boss answered easily for you, "Hers are very much alive, and oh, in fact, we're actually planning to tell them this weekend on her Lola's 90th birthday celebration. The whole family's coming together, and we thought it'd be a nice surprise."

This eavesdropping woman!

"And where is this party happening?" Loki questioned eagerly to Natasha, like he just sensed something as he squinted his eyes for some flaws in Natasha's words.

"At Y/n's parents house, of course." The Russian answered confidently with a small chuckle.

"And where is that located again?" He pushed, making Natasha mentally curse herself and the man in front of her.

"Um," Natasha scoffed. "Why am I doing all the talking? Baby, come on, it's your parent's house. Tell him where it is!"

"Mexico."

"Mexico," Natasha repeated.

You continued, "Philippines."

"Philippines?" She looked at you with wide eyes but said nothing else.

"So you're going to fly to the Philippines this weekend?" Loki asked with raised brows.

"Yeah." You both agreed, feeling Natasha's hesitance in her tone but disregarding it otherwise because, well, you two don't have a choice; that much is obvious.

"We are going to the Philippines," Natasha informed, touching your shoulder for some fake affection. "That's where my baby's from."

"Fine." Loki sighed, disappointed that he couldn't squeeze you enough to admit anything right now. "I see how this is going to go. I'll have to see you both at 11 by Monday morning for your scheduled interview, and your answers better match up on every account, or else..."

"Thank you, Sir." You stood up immediately to shake his cold hands, while Natasha stood up to answer the call from her phone.

You sighed, shoulders slumping as you showed your way out with Natasha's nose glued to her phone by your side.

Everything inside your head is noisy, and it makes you want to burst out, but every time you open your mouth, nothing comes out, which frustrates your whole being because, my god..

What did you get yourself into?

"Okay." Natasha finally broke the loud silence, snapping you out of your thoughts. "What's going to happen is we'll go down there and pretend that we're girlfriends, then tell them we're engaged. Book our flights. First class. And oh, confirm the vegan meal for me, okay? Because the last time, they actually gave it to a vegan and they forced me to eat this slimy, clammy, creamy salad thingy, which was really—hey, why aren't you taking notes?"

"I'm sorry, were you not in that room?" You sarcastically questioned with furrowed brows.

"What?" Natasha looked at you confusedly before she flashed you a small (not real) smile. "Oh! The thing about the promotion! That's a good one; he fell for it."

"I was serious." You muttered, "I'm looking at a $250,000 fine and five years in jail. That changes things."

"Promote you to a higher position that you're not capable of? No, no way." She scoffed.

You rolled your eyes with a shrug. "Then I quit, and you're screwed. Bye, Natasha."

And just as you were about to walk out, you heard her call you again, making you smirk to yourself.

"Fine. Fine!" Natasha frowned. "I'll promote you, fine—if you do this whole weekend in the Philippines thing and the immigration thingy, you'll get what you ask for. Happy?"

"Not in two years, but right away," You challenged.

"Fine!" She gave in with a groan, and you grinned at how you finally got her to agree with you for the first time ever since you worked for her.

"Now ask me nicely, Natasha." You smirked subtly.

"Ask you nicely, what?" She looked up from her phone, confused.

"Ask me nicely to marry you."

"What does that mean?" The redhead Russian asked with a tone that says she's losing her patience, but nah, you have the upper hand this time, and you sure damn hell you'll make the most out of it.

"You heard me." You gestured to her. "On your knees."

"What the f-" You raised your brow at her in warning, causing her to stop in mid-sentence before she began kneeling down with her sarcastic smile and dangerous eyes. "Y/n.."

"Yes?" You teased.

"Sweet, sweet, Y/n." Natasha did an adorable pout, looking like she's a puppy begging for food, but of course, it was mixed with sarcasm as usual. "Will you please, with cherries on top, marry me?"

You hummed for good measure, pretending to think as you looked away.

"I don't appreciate the sarcasm, but that'll do it." You shrugged. "See you tomorrow, boss!"

And with that, you left her almost falling flat on her face if it wasn't for her attentive skills that she caught herself and saved herself from the embarrassment as she cursed you in her mind.

Off to the Philippines we go!

—

Taglist (that I forgot yet again, sorry 😭): @taliiiaasteria @marvels--slut @freeyanna

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #soft natasha romanoff #marvel #natasha romanoff au #the proposal 2009 #loki laufeyson

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goldenempyrean · 1 year

Note

Hey! I have a request. Could you write something where Wanda has been a bit stressed with work, and R had the flu. R doesn't want to add to Wanda's stress, so R hides their sickness. R has to go and do something outside for whatever reason (even though Wanda protests) and when R comes back in, their so delirious and out of it, they tell Wanda they feel sick, even though they don't really know what's going on. Thank you for your time!

Don't You Worry About Me

〚 Notes - Hey! Just another lil piece to fill the gap as I work on the AU :) Oh, please lmk what yall think about the new lil colours for the titles and stuff. I think it looks pretty cool! Also my amazing @lyak12 helped me out with the main idea for this too!〛

〚 Pairing- Wanda Maximoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Wanda's been swamped with work lately and the last thing you wanted to was to add to her stress. Even if it means hiding the truth from her. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 3140 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

Wanda had spent the last few days battling a nasty case of the flu. She had been feeling weak and achy and was fighting a fever which just wouldn't break, no matter how hard you tried. But she was finally starting to feel better and had even managed to drag herself into her online work that morning. Unfortunately, she’d quickly realised that she was behind schedule on her reports. For some dumb reason Fury had decided to shorten the deadline and now she was quickly running out of time to complete them all.

She tried to focus on her work, but her head was still a bit fuzzy from the fever. She kept having to stop and reread things, and it was taking her twice as long as it should have. She could feel her stress levels rising as the clock ticked on and her to-do list seemed to be getting longer rather than shorter. And despite your best efforts to keep her calm, every little thing only seemed to add to the growing pile of stress pressing down on her. That was probably why you hadn't even registered the aching feeling in your bones, you were far too busy.

But as the day went on, you couldn't ignore the sick feeling that was slowly creeping up on you. Your head was starting to throb, and your throat was beginning to feel scratchy. You tried to push through it, but every time you stood up to grab something, you found yourself feeling dizzy and disoriented.

Around noon you'd decided to make some tea and that's when you'd first noticed it, the weakness in your arm as you went to lift the kettle. That’s when it really clicked for you that you were getting sick, and you had to stifle an annoyed groan. Of course you’d caught it from her. Just great... But it wasn't exactly like you had the time to dwell on it – if you did you’d only end up alerting Wanda to your condition, which was the last thing you wanted, especially when she was already so stressed with her work, so instead you finished up the tea and came to sit beside Wanda in the living room, attempting to clear a space on the coffee table between the piles of paperwork and files to place her mug down.

You could see the frustration and exhaustion written all over her face as she loudly tapped on the laptop settled on her knees. It made your heart ache. You knew that she was the type of person who hated falling behind on her work, especially when deadlines were involved.

Wanda looked up from her laptop and smiled weakly as you placed the mug of tea in front of her. "Thank you," she murmured before turning her attention back to her work. You settled down beside her, trying to ignore the growing ache in your bones. You really didn't want to worry Wanda, especially since she was already stressed enough as it was. "How's your day going?" She asked casually, her voice still a little hoarse from days of coughing.

You shrugged. "Busy, but nothing I can't handle," You replied, trying to sound optimistic, “Can I do anything else for you though sweetheart?” you offered sweetly as you reached out to gently squeeze her thigh.

“Is there any way you could help me with these?” She motioned to the stacks of paper littering the coffee table, “I know it wasn’t your mission but I’m so far behind and Fury’s going to have my head chopped off and hung up for public display if I don’t get this all done.”

You nodded, Fury was known for being strict with deadlines, “Okay baby, do you want me to look over these?” You asked, picking up one of the denser files.

“That’d be amazing.” Wanda sighed in relief as she leant over to kiss your cheek, “You’re doing me such a huge favour baby.”

As you both started working on the reports, you could feel your own weakness and fatigue growing with every passing minute, not to mention the constant feeling like your nose was running leading you to sniffle quietly every so often. But you pushed through it, determined to help Wanda get her work done. Much to your annoyance, over the next few hours, your sniffles only increased, and you were frequently having to take breaks to go and discreetly blow your nose in another room. On a normal occasion you would’ve told Wanda the second you began to feel like something was off, but you knew that telling her would only stress her out further and there was no way you wanted to do that. So, you stayed painfully silent about the growing pressure in your sinuses and continued to diligently help Wanda with her work.

As the day wore on, you could feel the exhaustion starting to take its toll on you. Your body felt heavy, and your mind was starting to feel foggy. You knew you should probably take a break and rest, but you didn't want to let her down so when Wanda suggested taking a break, you instantly jumped on the opportunity.

By the time the two of you were going to bed, you felt thoroughly exhausted. Even just moving felt like a monumental task and you had to fight to stay awake as you brushed your teeth. By some miracle, you managed to finish getting ready for bed without falling asleep, it was just as you were giving yourself a final look over in the mirror when you felt the annoying itch in your sinuses.

“Hh'ishu! Ish'chu! HeH’TSHiew!” Despite your best efforts to stay quiet, your last sneeze ended up being on the louder side prompting Wanda to call out a ‘bless you!’ from the bedroom. You waited hesitantly to see whether she’d say anything else, but it seemed her poor mind was too preoccupied with the looming work of tomorrow for her to connect the dots, so you took the opportunity to thoroughly blow your nose before padding back into your bedroom.

“You tired my love?” Wanda asked, as you sank into the bed, welcoming the warmth of your blankets, “Thanks for helping me out so much today.”

“A little.” You mumbled – ‘a little’ was a huge understatement, “and you don’t need to thank me darling, I just want you to be able to get all this work done.”

“You helped a lot. I'm really thankful.” Wanda murmured quietly as she yawned widely before nuzzling against you, “Goodnight baby.”

“Goodnight Wands.”

〘✧✧✧〙

When you woke up the next morning the bed was cold. Painfully cold. You rolled over into the spot where Wanda would usually be led, only to be met with an empty bed. You felt awful, you’d barely opened your eyes when you were struck with a harsh, painful headache nestled deep behind them. Groaning, you tried to sit up, though admittedly it did numerous attempts, and you began slowly massaging temples in a feeble attempt of getting some form of relief.

Pulling your aching body out of bed seemed almost impossible but you did it anyway, trying to take a deep breath as the room span around you. There was no way you were getting properly dressed today, instead you opted to pull on one of Wanda’s fuzzy cardigans instead before heading over to the bathroom.

You really should’ve prepared yourself better for the reflection staring back at you in the mirror. You looked awful. Thick purple bags hung beneath your red, tired eyes, only extenuated further by your sickly, white skin. You hadn’t even had the chance to criticise your fever flushed cheeks before your sinuses reared their complaints and sent you bending at the waist with two strong sneezes only to be followed by a harsh bout of thick coughing which left you trembling and breathless.

After the coughing fit subsided, you stumbled over to the sink and splashed some water on your face. The cool liquid brought a small measure of relief to your pounding head, but it wasn't enough to stop the dizziness from overwhelming you. You leaned heavily against the counter, willing the room to stop spinning. Humouring yourself, you decided to take your own temperature and even that was a huge task, especially when you weren’t able to breathe out of your overly stuffy nose.

However, you managed to hold your breath long enough for the small device to beep loudly, announcing its verdict.

“Oh shit...” You mumbled to yourself, looking down at the numbers on the slightly blurry electronic screen. 39.1 - that really wasn’t good, truthfully it wasn’t just the screen that was blurry, everything around you seemed to be muffled by a thick wall of cotton and you only found yourself cursing again when you opened the bathroom cupboard to see an almost-empty bottle of Flu medicine sitting on the shelf.

Wanda had used the last of it.

Great.

Speaking of. You wished Wanda was here. You needed her more than ever, you craved her comfort and longed for her to tuck you up into bed but no, you were stuck here staring at your pitiful reflection, feeling like death warmed over. Just as you were about to call out for her something stopped you.

She still had her work to do, calling out for her now would only distract her. Muffling another round of harsh, chesty coughs into your sleeve only made tears well up in your eyes. But you didn't cry. You only sniffled and reminded yourself that you were an Avenger too. You might not have powers, but you had resilience and determination, and you weren't going to let the flu defeat you. You just had to toughen up. How far even was the shop anyway? All you needed to do was go out and by yourself some medicine. That’s all you needed to do.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled yourself away from the bathroom counter and slowly made your way to the door. The room spun as you tried to focus on the hallway in front of you. Every step felt like a marathon, your body ached and shivered with every move. But you pushed on, driven by the desire to get better and not let this illness get the better of you.

Ignoring Wanda’s call of ‘goodmorning’ from the kitchen, you reached the front door, opening to only be blinded by the intense light beaming down from the blue sky. It was a beautiful day, the kind of day you would usually spend outside, enjoying the warmth and taking in the sights of the city. But today, all you could think of was getting to the pharmacy and getting back to bed.

With shaky hands, you stepped outside, continuing to ignore Wanda’s calls of confusion. The cool air hit you instantly, and you shuddered, pulling the cardigan tighter around yourself. The pharmacy was only a few blocks away, but each step felt like an eternity. You could feel your temperature rising, your head pounding, and your breathing becoming more and more laboured.

You didn’t know how long you were walking for before you decided to turn back, everything was too much, the light, your wheezing exhausted breathing, everything. Hell, you could barely make out your own hand in front of your pale face as the world spun around you. It was a miracle you’d even made it this far without collapsing.

And so, by the time you’d stumbled back into the safety of your home, all your energy had been thoroughly drained, and you clutched the wall for support, knowing it was the only thing keeping you upright.

“Sweetie? Where did you go?” Wanda called out as the sound of the door closing echoed through your home, hearing no answer, the witch stood up from the table and slowly padded over to peek round the corner only to frantically rush to your side when she saw you leaning weakly against the wall for support, “Oh my god, Y/N?! Holy shit, you’re on fire, why on earth were you outside? When did you get this sick? Fuck Y/N-”

Truthfully, you were only hearing about half of the worried words frantically spilling from her, you were too busy on attempting to keep yourself lucid which was proving to be a very difficult task when the room around you wouldn’t stop spinning, “We need’d med’cine.” Your words came out in a jumbled mess as Wanda pulled you into her arms, cradling your trembling body.

“No, no baby you need to be in bed. Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling sick? When did you even get sick? This can’t be new.” Her anxious tone was impossible to miss as you felt yourself being lifted up into her arms as she carried you in the direction of your bedroom, “Why didn’t I notice this...”

“Yo’ were busy wit’ work.” Your slurred word were barely decipherable and you soon felt yourself being lowered down onto the familiar softness of your bed; a thick blanket being tucked over your shaking body.

Wanda’s face was etched with worry as she looked down at you, “No, I should have noticed. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. My work is nowhere near as important as your health is.” She pressed a cool hand to your sweat-soaked forehead, “You’re beyond burning up...”

Your response was only a mutter of unaudiable words as Wanda quickly rushed out of the room. It felt like she was gone for hours, but in reality, it was only probably a few minutes. But when she returned, she was tightly clutching a small bottle in her hands, “I got this from the neighbours, it isn’t too strong but it’s the only thing we have on hand.”

“Mm?” you tried sitting up, but a firm hand kept you in place.

“No baby, lay down. I just need you to drink this, okay?” Wanda’s words soothed you as she poured out a dose of the medicine and held it to your lips, rubbing your back as you sipped it weakly.

The medicine was bitter and made you scrunch up your face, but you were too weak to protest. Wanda continued to stroke your hair and hum a gentle tune, trying to calm you down as the medicine began to take effect. Gradually, you felt the heat in your body subside a little and your breathing became easier.

“Poor baby, I'm so sorry that I got caught up in all that work.” She whispered quietly, reaching over to grab some tissues when you began fussing with your running nose.

She must’ve been physic or something because only seconds later, you felt your nose burn with that pestering itch again and you only had to energy to turn your head away in the opposite direction to her before...

““Ihsheiueww! Hih...hihhEHHHSHIEW!”

“Awh my poor baby, bless you.” Wanda sighed, taking another handful of tissues to wipe your face before running her hand through your slightly-damp hair, “This bug’s really doing a number on you, isn’t it?”

You could only manage a weak nod in response, feeling utterly drained and exhausted. But as Wanda continued to care for you, you couldn't help but feel grateful for her presence. Her gentle touch and soothing words were the only things keeping you grounded in reality.

As the medicine began to take full effect, you felt your eyes start to droop and your body relax into the mattress. Wanda must have noticed because she leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before whispering, "Get some rest, my love. I'll be right here with you."

And with those words, you allowed yourself to drift off into a peaceful slumber, feeling safe and comforted in Wanda's loving embrace.

The next time you opened your eyes, the room was dark, and you could see the faint outline of Wanda sitting in a chair beside you, still keeping a watchful eye. She must have fallen asleep at some point because her head was resting against the back of the chair, her breathing slow and steady. You didn't want to wake her, but your throat was parched, and you needed water.

You mustered up all your strength to croak out her name, "Wanda?"

She stirred slightly and opened her eyes, rubbing them to adjust to the dim light. "Hey there, how are you feeling?" she asked softly.

"Thirsty," you managed to say, your gravelly voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda immediately stood up and grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table. She helped you sit up and slowly raised the glass to your lips, supporting your head with her other hand. The cool water felt heavenly on your parched throat, and you gulped it down greedily.

"Thanks," you said, your voice a bit stronger now.

Wanda smiled, "Anything for you, my love."

You settled back down into the bed, feeling a bit more comfortable now that you had some water in your system. Wanda pulled the covers up to your chin and tucked you in, her hand lingering on your forehead to check your temperature.

"You're still warm," she noted. "But your fever has gone down a little, I was seriously debating taking you to hospital earlier y’know.”

The next few days were a blur of fever dreams and fits of coughing, but Wanda remained by your side throughout it all. She made sure you were always comfortable, bringing you hot soup and a cool washcloth to soothe your burning forehead.

Despite the pain and discomfort, there was something oddly comforting about being so vulnerable around Wanda. She never judged you or made you feel weak for being sick. Instead, she loved and cared for you even more, making you feel truly cherished.

As the days passed, your symptoms gradually began to subside, and you started to feel more like yourself again. Wanda was always at your side, encouraging you to take it slow and rest as much as possible.

Finally, the day came when you felt strong enough to get out of bed and move around a little. You stumbled into the living room, feeling a little unsteady on your feet, but Wanda was there to catch you.

"Easy there," she said, smiling gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," you replied, your voice still a little raspy from all the constant coughing. "Thanks to you."

Wanda's smile widened, and she pulled you into a warm embrace. "I'm just glad you're feeling better," she whispered. "I was so worried about you."

You hugged her back, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you. Despite the illness, it had brought you even closer to Wanda, and you knew that you would always have her by your side, no matter what.

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wheatnoodle · 1 year

Text

MMMMMMMMMPART FOUR BARK BARK BARK

other parts

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

—

eddie’s squished in the corner of his own couch, mike wheeler’s bony knee digging into his thigh. why couldn’t they pick someone else’s house? code red, group meeting, maybe the wheeler basement? not his tiny trailer?

one by one, they file in. nancy, mike, max, lucas, erica, robin, dustin-…dustin shuts the door behind him. he shuffles over to stand next to robin, scrubbing a hand over his face and staring at the floor.

“i bet you’re wondering why we um…we called this meeting,” dustin clears his throat, adjusts his hat so he has something to do with his hands. lucas looks around and he holds up a hand to stop dustin from continuing.

“everyone’s not here,” he says, leaning around to look at everyone. eddie sits up, takes his own glance at the group and does an internal head count.

“where’s steve?” he asks and sits up to look out his front window. maybe steve was just running late. he could’ve been far away or something, who knows. there’s a choked off sob that has his head flicking over to robin. she covers her mouth with her hand, turns to face away from everyone.

“that’s what we called you guys to talk about,” dustin says after a deep breath. he can’t look any of them in the eye.

“okay…what’s going on? You’re making it seem like he’s…like he’s dead, or something,” nancy scoffs softly. she crosses her arms over her chest, her face taking on a look of concern.

“holy shit, is he dead?” max asks. silence fills the room, all eyes on the pair standing front and center. why them? why’d they have to be the ones to deliver the news? robin wipes under her eyes, releasing a heavy sigh that turns into a groan of frustration. she turns back to face everyone.

“okay…um…a few days ago, at the bonfire, i tried to talk to steve because he…he’d been really quiet all night. like, nance and i were walking back up and he was still sitting there. so- so i went to talk to him. and he just seemed…really…out of it. jumpier than usual…s-sadder than usual?” she paused, needing to squeeze her eyes shut and clench her fists to keep from crying more than she had on the way over. “and he…he wasn’t at work for a few days. guess he called keith and told him he was sick and would be out for a bit.

“day he was supposed to come back, he doesn’t show. keith can’t get in contact with him. i can’t get in contact with him. dustin can’t either,” robin explains. she sounds exhausted.

“alright, now you’re freakin’ me out…did he fuckin’-…is he dead?” eddie cuts in, his forehead creasing in the center. he hears max’s sharp breath in and reaches behind mike to grip her shoulder.

“no, no he’s not- he didn’t kill-…he’s not dead,” is what robin settles on. her fingers are itching for a cigarette, she doesn’t even smoke. “dustin went to go check on him and he’s just…gone? like- like all of his things, his car, his pictures, him. he’s just gone.”

“what, he just packed up and left?” mike asks, his voice edging on anger. he furrows his thick brows, leaning forward on the couch. he looks ready to square up with someone.

“that’s…yeah. that’s what it looks like.” dustin sighs heavily.

“and nobody’s looking for him? after- after everything?” mike scoffs and shakes his head before pushing the long locks behind his ears. he stands up, moves to grab his coat.

“mike-“ nancy tries and rises as well. she reaches out to take his arm but he shakes her off.

“no, nance! look, he’s not my favorite person in the world, he’s your ex and he used to be a dick. but he’s family now, whether i like it or not, and i don’t fuck around when it comes to who i pick for family,” he starts, “also, it’s steve! y’know, hundred and one concussions? you want him just…out there? on his own? with his shit memory and his headaches, hell, he can barely hear! so you guys can sit here, be sad, whatever. i’m looking for steve.”

“‘scuse me,” eddie mumbles, barely even audible to himself before he’s putting his hands on his knees and standing up. he doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes, instead just slips a cigarette from his pocket between his lips and pushes through the small crowd in his living room. he can hear dustin call his name but he keeps going until he can shut his bedroom door and twist the lock behind him.

steve was gone. he may never see him again. he may never see him again. he may never get to smoke with him again and listen to the wild stories from high school that he never seemed to share with anyone else. he won’t get to shuttle the kids to his house or meet them somewhere and listen to the way steve mothers over them, fixing collars and reminding them to walkie if they need anything.

eddie would never be able to look into his eyes again. those big, brown, beautiful eyes that glow like the moon when eddie gives him his full, undivided attention. those eyes that eddie’s realizing he wishes he could look into them forever. and if not forever, maybe just one more time.

he wouldn’t be able to tangle his hands in his hair and feel the way the strands slip like silk through his fingers. it always looked so soft. and now he’d never know. eddie wouldn’t be able to hug him and god, what he would give to smell him right now and what kind of a thought is that to have about your fellow man friend? slow your roll, edster.

not that it would even matter anymore that just thinking about him makes eddie’s heart ache. because steve is gone. steve is gone.

and suddenly, all at once, eddie can’t breathe and he’s drowning in his own saltwater tears. the unlit cigarette falls from his lips and he’s sliding down the door, all dramatic movie style, until he’s sitting with his knees to his chest. broken sobs are yanked from the deepest parts of his chest against his will, collapsing his ribs with the force. he crumbles forward into his knees, pressing his forehead into the skin that sticks out from his ripped jeans. one hand is trying to cover his mouth and muffle himself, the other finds it’s way into his hair.

steve is gone and eddie didn’t know where he went. steve is gone and he left eddie behind. steve is gone and he is going to find new friends. he is going to find someone who makes his heart race and he is going to take them out on cheesy dates and dance in the kitchen at three in the morning and kiss them like his life depends on it and eddie is going to throw up oh my good he’s gonna be sick stop it stop it stop it.

he loves him.

steve is gone and eddie loves him.

steve is gone and eddie was too late. too late too late and now everything makes too much sense. all those nights he stayed awake in bed, staring at his ceiling with thoughts of steve harrington running through his brain. every time he was in the room with the jock, eddie gravitated towards him. he’d stand behind him, prop his chin on a toned shoulder and wrap an arm around his waist. tell himself it’s just because he liked making steve jump when he doesn’t see him coming, but really he just…fits. so well against eddie’s chest. and the blush that rises in his cheeks.

steve is gone and eddie loves him.

there’s a tentative knock on the door that pulls him from his sorrow and has his head snapping up. he smacks his hands against his face to swipe away any tears, scrubbing at his eyes before he stands up.

“eddie…?” it’s robin. she sounds nervous, uncomfortable. shit. they’re probably all listening to him cry like a baby. “it’s just robin. i kicked everyone else out.” is she listening to his thoughts? “um…no, no you’re just…y’know, talking.”

oh.

“oh.” he takes steadying breath and cracks open the door, only a couple inches, enough to look at the disheveled girl on the other side.

“eddie…” robin says in a sad sigh, her shoulders slumping as she takes in the sight of him. she wants to reach out and take his face in her hands, wipe his tears and tell him how they still had each other, but she knew it wasn’t the same. and right now, she feels as though she is approaching a wild animal recently caged and cornered. reaching into his space is not what he needs.

“robin.” his voice wavers and eddie’s pulling his wobbly lower lip between his teeth to chew on.

“i’m right here.” she’s quick to reassure him. eddie turns his head behind the door as a fresh wave of tears floods his waterline and he chokes on a whimper. he sticks his hand out of the crack in the door and she tangled their fingers together, letting him cling to her as hard as he needed.

robin rests her forehead on her side of the door, lets her own tears slip as she listens to him feel his world come crashing down around him, the same she had. she wants to scream. wants to smash all of the harrington’s windows in and set the place on fire and run into the middle of the lake with rocks tied to her feet and scream.

instead, she squeezes eddie’s hand tighter and cries with him through his bedroom door.

—

september rolls around and the kids are back in school. a whole month without steve. that’s how long she makes it before max is cracking open her lined math notebook to a blank page and uncapping her pen with her teeth.

dear steve,

i don’t know if you remember even giving me this address. you were pretty drunk when you did. but, you left, and this is the place i hope you ended up. you seemed happy when you talked about it.

things are different now. we’re different. not a good different, but i have hope. dustin is pretty mad all the time. doesn’t talk except to bitch at people which was funny at first, but now it’s pretty annoying. lucas quit the basketball team. he said that his teammates kept bugging him about what happened to you since they know he was close to you. but hey, now he has time for me to teach him how to skate. (fyi: he’s shit)

part of me wants to be mad at you. like, how dare you leave me, you bastard! but i saw how you were before you left. you were so tired. i’m really proud of you for looking out for you. i would much rather know you’re alive on the other side of the country than dead here because things got too much.

robin misses you so much. she talks about you every day even though it always makes her cry. but she keeps doing it. i think she wants to make sure everyone remembers you. she writes poetry now? all starring you or this girl in marching band. but what i mean is she’s got an outlet at least. which is good. she’s good at it.

eddie…isn’t around too much anymore. he stays in his trailer most of the time which now reeks of weed and has music blasting 24/7. i will say though, he’s been playing a lot of smiths on his guitar. can you believe it?! eddie! the smiths! which brings me to reminding you that your “special friend” seems more than willing to wait.

i hope this reaches you. you don’t need to answer or anything. i just wanted you to know that i’m happy for you. and i’m proud of you. i like you more than the rest.

that random girl,

max

—

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#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #max mayfield #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #lucas sinclair #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #fic wip

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strafepanzer · 2 years

Text

atmospheric | act i: cumulus

masterlist | act i | act ii | act iii

a @mybigbangacademia collab with @54prowl

rating: explicit (for future themes)

word count: 9.4k

tags: katsuki’s sailor tongue, staged (and non-staged) meet cutes, mentions of grief

a/n: oh my lord, i thought this would never come to fruition! i wanna thank @kweenkatsuki @kingkatsuki @karikarasuno and especially @54prowl for keeping me sane throughout this! thank you for reading my stuff and screaming about it and helping me through writers block and just being there for me when i was at my most anxious. i adore you all so so much!

“Hell fucking no.” Katsuki laughs. Laughs at the gall, at the sheer audacity. “I don’t need this. Why the fuck would I need this?”

His publicist shares a look with the rep from The Hero Commission. “Bakugo,” she takes a breath, clenches her jaw a little. He’s known Kira for a long time, knows she honestly tries to do what’s best for him, what he needs. “You could be number one.” She states confidently. “And I’m gonna be candid here, because we’re not strangers; I’ve been with you for six long years,” she doesn’t break eye contact with him, if anything she leans into him more. “I’m frustrated. It’s goddamn frustrating watching you sit at six. Six? You’re Dynamight.”

“That’s right!” The rep all but throws his hands up in the air. “Dynamight! You always catch the bad guy! Your merch is one of our best selling lines, you always file your work correctly— and on time!” He stresses, blue eyes as big and bright as All Might’s were. “Your issue is popularity, the polls; you don’t take fan pics, you don’t sign merch—“

“That’s not the point of bein’ a fucking hero—“

“We don’t want you to change, Bakugo, that’s the whole point of this. You don’t have to become a whole different person; in fact, we don’t really expect you to do much, especially during the first few months of the project.” The Project. He wants to snort, to cross his arms and lean back in his chair, show his disinterest; but, shit, he’d be a fucking liar if he didn’t admit sitting at six didn’t drive him up the wall.

“It’ll just start with a chance meeting here, another there, just so social media can get wind of it, and rumours can spread.” Kira relaxes a little, frown lines evening out as she takes in Anderson’s excited vibes. Katsuki huffs a little, meets her eyes. “We’ve had a team working on your story for a while.”

“Story…” he tests the word in his mouth as his brows draw together. “So there’s a script?”

“We have a timeline and set meetings,” Anderson smiles, leaning back in his chair. “Some social media stories we’ll need you to post, more she has to post; but as far as a script goes… it’s more of the direction we need you to go in.”

Katsuki sighs, grabs the surprisingly heavy booklet they presented to him earlier in the meeting. GOLDFISH takes up most of the cover page in giant letters, a corny TOP SECRET stamped in red takes up the rest of it; fucking stupid, dramatic, pretentious Hero Commission shit. He flips through the pages, glosses over the words until he gets to a sub heading titled Chance Meeting One.

They’re lucky he doesn’t peg the fucking book at Anderson.

Subject A bumps into Subject B on the red carpet. Subject B stumbles, Subject A steadies them, asks if they are okay. The two share a look, then get back to business. Paparazzi in the vicinity—

“So, if I’m subject A, who’s the mysterious Subject B?” His voice is dripping in sarcasm as he tosses the book back onto the table. He’s mildly surprised— concerned, even?— when neither of them jump to tell him.

“We can’t… tell you… until you sign the contract.” Kira says quietly, the nerves he’s so accustomed to seeing, creeping back onto her face.

His scowl must deepen astronomically, because she turns to Anderson with her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You’re not the only hero suffering in the popularity polls.” Anderson shrugs, gesturing with his hands. “Kira’s just been meticulous about you getting the boost. In reality, this would be a good deal for all of the top 10 heroes.”

Katsuki feels his eye twitch.

“Shouto, for example, isn’t that great with social cues, tends to shy away from media; he’s already at three, we could get him higher.” Anderson is 100% goading him, and Katsuki knows it, but it’s working.

“Is she a hero?”

“No,” his agent says confidently. “She’s not in the business, not a part of the commission either.”

“She’s well-loved, fawned over. Attractive.” Anderson turns to Kira. “Would you say so?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely. We’d never set you up for failure, Bakugo, I can promise you that.”

“I don’t care what she looks like,” he huffs, slightly agitated. “I just don’t wanna drop in the polls.” He grumbles, glare set on Anderson. “Do they know it’s me?”

“Nope, she just knows you’re a hero.” He answers with a toothy smile.

Katsuki presses on. “Does she know I’m in top 10?”

“Her contract states it’ll be a hero in the top 50.” He shoots back, unblinking.

“Just say yes Bakugo, I promise it’ll be worth it.” Kira interjects, eyes hopeful. “And hey, you might actually really like her.”

Katsuki’s snort of laughter is loud. “Doubt it.” He grabs the book and flicks through the pages again, what’s the harm in taking it home and having a read? “Do I have to decide now?”

“Yes.” They answer together, Anderson steadfast and Kira flat.

“Really?”

“No time like the present.” The rep shrugs, the Cheshire grin on his face only growing with Katsuki’s frustration.

“You’re a real fucking ass you know that?” The hero grumbles, throwing his glare over his shoulder, pretending to be interested in the view of the setting sun from their vantage point on the 47th floor of the Hero Commission.

“The sooner you sign, the sooner we get the ball rolling.” Anderson drums the table like a fucking salesman.

And Katsuki signs the contract.

—

Katsuki still lives in the same apartment he bought when he was a rookie. Granted, back then this place was far too good for him, with its timber floorboards, prime location, and it’s five burner stainless steel natural gas cooktop. The previous owner was selling to move abroad; a retired chef who allowed Katsuki a walkthrough of the place as a ‘favour’ to one of Aizawa’s friends.

She—the chef— must’ve seen something in Katsuki when his eyes roamed the sparkling appliances, the range hood, the dishwasher, the fridge, because she accepted his offer, and he’d moved in the next week. It wasn’t until Eijirou had mentioned a couple months into living there, that his bathroom tiles were pink, that Katsuki had even noticed; that’s just how smitten he was with that fucking kitchen.

Now, years later, he feels shitty looking at his commercial grade kitchen.

When was the last time he cooked? Shit, the only time he even uses his kitchen is when he makes himself an instant coffee before work, or reheats takeout from the night before. He’s so busy at TDA, so busy bagging baddies and fighting crime and filing fucking paperwork that he’s gotta eat and run, with the shitty haired idiot eating into his days off with god damned babysitting duties at his place.

Katsuki sinks into the worn leather of his camel coloured couch, A4 envelope in his hand. He should open it, should find out who exactly this mystery girl is, should prepare. Instead, he sighs, tosses the crisp wad of paper onto the seat next to him, runs a hand down his face.

If even one person finds out he’s doing this, he’s over.

“Fuck,” he mutters, hands drawing down his face, crimson staring into the white of his ceiling, the elaborate cornices joining the muted grey of his walls. Bare walls.

The chef had paintings on the walls, heavy velvet curtains over the windows, colourful rugs, buffets covered in photos, house plants, and so much furniture. But Katsuki— young and pretentious— didn’t get that. He liked how huge the apartment seemed without it all, how high the ceilings felt, how large the rooms were.

Now, as much as he’s loathe to admit it, it feels kinda lonely.

But, he’ll do what he usually does when that nagging emptiness nips at his ankles, when he’s alone and actually feeling it: he’ll head to TDA. He’ll get to work, ignore Deku and that half and half bastard when they tell him they’ve got everything covered, ignore sparky when he teases him about not having a life, ignore pink cheeks when she reminds him for the millionth time he’s not getting paid overtime.

With a heaved sigh, he sits forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. That envelope glares at him from the other side of the two seater lounge, sitting there as if it’s some kind of placeholder, as if the girl herself is going to materialise next to him if he dares to open it.

He doesn’t open it.

—

TDA—The Deku Agency (yeah, stupid fucking name)— is lively in the afternoons. Heroes and rookies mingle with civvies in the foyer, sitting at cozy little tables and ordering overpriced drinks and cakes from the café Deku had installed in the far corner of the lobby in a bid to improve relations between them. The Commission loved it.

Katsuki uses the back door.

He takes the maintenance elevator up to the office floor and wordlessly finds his desk, revels in the pssssssht as he sinks into the bright orange, high-backed ergolux. It’s comfy for an office chair, just the right amount of worn in, without the irritation of squeaky screws his old chair had.

“Don’t you have today off?” Icyhot’s glare is blank, cold soba (probably) noodles suspended between the chopsticks held at lip level.

“None’a your business, half ‘n’ half.” Katsuki glares back heatedly, spinning in his chair to face his monitor. It, too, is… orange. Just like Deku’s is broccoli green, and round cheeks’ is pink, and fucking half ‘n’ half’s is… half red, half icy blue. According to Deku, some computer company brought out a whole range of hero inspired computers in a collab with the Commission and he just had to get one for everyone; with matching chairs.

The colours throw off the serenity the floor could have, with its glossy white floors, floor to ceiling windows, the greenery delicately placed around the space. But, that’s Deku and Pink Cheeks to a tee, and the icyhot asshole just goes along with whatever half-baked plan the two of them conspire.

“Was it expensive?” Todoroki presses, those eyes still staring holes into Katsuki.

“Haah?” He knows he shouldn’t rise to the bait, but he’s tense as it is, so that red glare of his is burning through Shouto in an instant.

“The fine? Property damage, Uraraka thinks, but my money’s on defamation?” He says it with such disinterest, that it almost takes Katsuki off guard.

“It was a meeting, dipshit; about my career. I don’t have any outstanding fines.” He almost snarls, irritation a growling monster in his gut. “Asshole.” He adds, filing away Ochako’s involvement in the back of his mind. He’ll call her out for it later; she’s always the one putting ridiculous ideas in that two-toned space cadet’s head.

“Ah, sorry.” He hears him mumble back, followed by a loud slurp that makes Katsuki’s left eye twitch.

“You should be.” The blonde huffs, irritation mounting at the lack of sincerity in his voice. “Who the hell did you think was suing me?”

“Hm? Didn’t you badmouth Grand on Twitter last week?”

Katsuki actually laughs. “If that asshole wants to go to battle, he’ll need to be ready for fucking war.”

“What was the meeting about, then? Your public image? Are they mad at you?”

Yes and no.

“You’re awfully chatty today.”

“Well, I’m having a meeting next week,” Shouto admits, piquing Katsuki’s interest; he swivels in his chair, watches his friend as he plays with his noodles absentmindedly. “Just… Don’t know what to expect.”

“Oh.” Is all Katsuki can really say. He vaguely remembers Shouto mentioning something about almost slipping in the polls, and although he’s higher than Katsuki, he bets his own agent’s been getting a beat down from the Commission. While they don’t really care who sits at number one, they do care when merch sales drop and social media interaction is low.

“I just hate… all of that extra stuff. All of the unnecessary competition that comes along with this job. Reminds me of… Father.” As if sensing he’s stepped a foot wrong (for once in his life), Shouto mumbles a sorry and turns back towards his computer screen.

Normally, a mention of Shouto’s father leaves a bittersweet taste in Katsuki’s mouth, has him turning cheek to cheer his friend up in his own asshole-y way… but guilt nips at his heels. Guilt that his contract might actually have him surpassing Shouto with a leg-up Katsuki doesn’t technically need. Katsuki isn’t Shouto; he’s a prick on purpose, not out of childhood trauma-induced ignorance. Katsuki knows that the things he says and his shitty actions have god damned consequences.

Todoroki’s just a little weird.

Fuck, another reason to feel shitty about signing that fucking contract.

After a few moments, Shouto’s slurping starts again, giving Katsuki the green light to get his head out of his ass. He turns back to his own computer, taps the space bar a few times to wake it up, and logs into the portal.

Time to catch up on some incident reports.

—

The Kirishima Household is lovely. Pro Hero Red Riot bought a place out in the ‘burbs when he got married, a semi-renovated two-storey place with a yard. It’s hard to find a place with a yard so close to the city, especially on rookie hero wages. The place has three bedrooms upstairs, with the living and dining, kitchen, and bath and toilet downstairs; Eijirou’s been trying to convince Katsuki to claim the third bedroom as his, even bought him an alarm clock and an All Might sheet set for the bed, but Katsuki chronically takes the couch.

When he comes over the night before the Gala to watch Akari, the father-daughter duo are playing MarioKart. Katsuki shakes his head at them— concealing his grin— and takes his groceries to the kitchen, set on making dinner for the two of them before Ei has to head off to work.

He must be thinking too hard, the anxiety of the Gala etched on his face, because Eijirou is hovering.

The red head’s also giving him the look.

Between serving his little girl dinner— which Katsuki assured him, he could do— getting his shit together for his shift, and making small talk with Katsuki, he keeps staring. It’s the goading look; the one that says: hey man, I know something’s wrong, but you’re just gonna say nothin’ if I ask, so I’m gonna need you to tell me.

Katsuki’s not gonna tell him.

He can’t.

What, just come out with a: yeah, I actually accepted an offer from the Commission to fake date someone in order for my public perception to improve, so I’ll climb the popularity polls. No chance in hell; not even if the place froze over.

Sure, if anyone were to understand, it’d probably be Eijirou. Either him, Deku, or Shouto, but… he just can’t. Especially with Red Riot sitting at number 8.

Katsuki has to usher him out the door at 6pm, has to pretend he’s fine, and that nothing’s bothering him; he even tries to give Ei a reassuring smile as he hops on his motorbike, but thinking back on that moment, it probably only worsens his perception of Katsuki. Since when does he smile and wave him off to work?

Shit.

He settles onto the sofa next to Ei’s mini me after tidying the kitchen and tossing a load of laundry in the wash. A replay of the morning news should relax him a little, should take his mind off this stupid Gala, the stupid red carpet, the stupid fucking contractual dating.

The news anchors are achingly boring, droning on about the finance sector, the stock market; Deku’s into all that shit, pulled Katsuki into investing almost a decade ago. The idiot even told Katsuki not to waste his first hero pay check on stupid stuff… then went ahead and bought some 160,000Y All Might figure that looked achingly out of place on his coffee table in his tiny loft studio apartment.

Then he’s on the news, a flash of blonde and green and orange flying through the sky. He’d apprehended a villain last night, and the news loves reporting on all of the property damage that usually comes along with Katsuki’s quirk; he’s gotten so good at holding back, but since signing the contract, he knows he’s been acting a little more recklessly. And of course, snakey fucking journalists have to jump on that. Reminds him how much he fucking hates the news.

At least the weather girl’s cute.

“Uncle Kats? You okay?” Akari blinks, looking up from her iPad. She’s the spit out of her father’s mouth with those big red eyes and inky black hair, not to mention how much she loves Katsuki. Must run in the Kirishima genes.

“Why d’ya ask, kiddo?”

“I knew it,” she sighs, pulling her feet underneath her as she locks her iPad. “Dad’s got another girlfriend, doesn’t he? You always get weird like this when he’s seeing someone.”

Katsuki snorts laughter. “Always? Your dad has dated two people since you’ve been alive.”

“You’re acting weird!” She argues, arms gesturing wildly.

“You’re ten, you have no idea what weird even is.” He brushes her off, hoping to relive her of her street, but unable to do it nicely. He doesn’t really do nice.

“Dad was staring at you funny, and you were being weird.” She scrunches her little nose up at him, and Katsuki knows he’s not getting out of this conversation without putting a little bit of work in.

“Your dad stares at me funny all the time, squirt; you should’ve seen him when we were in high school.”

“He looked worried.” Akari frowns, because it is strange when Ei’s not being carefree.

Still, he’s gonna pretend he didn’t notice. “Did he?”

“Yeah and you did too!” She accuses, voice rising, annoyed. “Like, right up until now”

“So, because we both look worried, your dad’s dating again.” Its not a question, it’s her conclusion.

“Yeah, because he’s worried you’ll tell me, and you’re worried you have to keep it a secret. You don’t, by the way, I’m double digits now, so you can trust me with your secrets, I promise, Uncle Kats.” She bats those lashes at him, eyes shining with what he can only call mirth. The one thing she seemed to pick up from Katsuki after all these years babysitting.

He sighs, midway between impressed at her reasoning skills, and bummed that he can’t give her the answers she’s looking for. Still, he lets out a low whistle. “Double digits, huh? Sounds like you’re too old to hang out with Uncle Kats at the parlour.”

Seems like redirection still works for pre-teens, because her ruby reds light up like it’s Christmas. “You said you’re too famous to go out in public!”

“Are you arguing with ice cream, squirt?” He fakes a glower, sends her a little glare that can only be taken as playful.

“No way!” She bounces from the couch and practically runs to the landing. “I’m just gonna put my coat and shoes on!” She calls, talking way too fast. But then her little face pokes back around the corner, brows furrowed. “No take-backs.” She glares, wary.

He sighs, rubs a huge scarred hand over his too tired face. “No take backs.” He shrugs, shaking his head.

Akari seems content to leave his sight after that, her fast footfalls trekking up the stairs, her bedroom door slamming open. Meanwhile, he sinks a little into the sofa, annoyed with himself; mostly for acting so obviously emotional in front of a child, but also for promising her ice cream.

Looks like a beanie, face mask, and sunglasses type of night.

—

Eijirou rolls up the driveway a long thirteen hours after he left.

Katsuki’s made Eijirou a decaf tea— he’s gotta sleep today, and all that— and he’s stirring his coffee with a teaspoon as he leans against the countertop in the kitchen, eyes on the front door in anticipation. He needs to talk to him, needs to reassure his best friend that he’s okay, that there’s not really anything wrong.

Tell him what’s going on without explicitly telling him what’s going on.

“Daddy’s home!” He calls, bursting into the house with far too much energy for coming off an overnight shift.

“Dude, she’s asleep.”

“What?” His face falls, eyes darting around the kitchen like Katsuki’s telling lies. “It’s seven am, she’s got school this morning.” He grows more panicked by the second. “The bus gets here at seven-fifty—“

“Eiji, c’mon, all she’s gotta do is get up, get dressed, and eat breakfast.” Katsuki grumbles, rolling his eyes.

“How are you letting her sleep in? I knew it, something’s wrong. You were acting so weird last night, but this is… this is worse.” He dumps his work bag at his feet, puts his hands on his hips and gives him those god damn puppy eyes that are generally reserved for begging Katsuki to go somewhere with him. “You’re harder on her schedule than I am, Katsuki.”

Katsuki sighs, steps over to rinse his teaspoon in the sink. “I took her out for ice cream last night, and we stayed out past her bedtime, so I told her I’d let her sleep in until seven-thirty.” He picks up Eijirou’s tea, hold it out for him to take. “I’m fine, really, it’s just a work thing.”

Eijirou accepts the mug, takes a few steps to sit at his four-seater dining table. “A work thing you can’t tell your best bud about.”

“It’s—“ Katsuki hesitates, taking his coffee with him to joint Eijirou at the table. “The Hero Gala is coming up, and Kira is making me go. You know how I hate doing publicity shit.” Not a lie. It’s true, he has to go to the pretentious fucking Hero Gala, and he hates all that stupid shit, and, yeah maybe there’s something else going on at the Gala, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he doesn’t wanna go.

Eiji’s mouth hangs open. “That’s it?”

“Hah?” Katsuki glares.

“You’re freaking out about the Gala?”

“Do you blame me?”

“No, I— geez, Kats, I actually thought there was something eating at your soul. You looked like you made a deal with a crossroads demon or something.” He shakes his head of whatever thoughts he’s been having and lets out a laugh, takes a sip of his tea.

Eijirou has no idea just how on the money he actually is.

“Nah, I just don’t know what to wear, how to act. You know how I can get with camera flashes.” He sighs, remembering the last press release he went to— all of the cameras and loud noises, and… fuck, it’s uncomfortable, and reminds him of being out in battle. Maybe he actually needs to get onto someone about PTSD like shitty Deku keeps suggesting.

Eijirou lets out a breath, the weight falling off his shoulders. “Well, you’ve always looked good in red; brings out your eyes.”

Katsuki chuckles then. “You’re a biased little shit, Ei.”

“I know.”

—

The Gala is everything Katsuki expects it to be: loud, crowded, and brightly lit. Paparazzi and fans line the streets for blocks leading to the venue, and it makes his nose twitch. He’s not the best with his public image, but tonight he has to at least try. Has to put in some goddamn effort.

Not only for himself, but for TDA, for his… to be girlfriend.

God, it even sounds fucking stupid in his head.

He drove himself, the plan to pull up in the valet cue and open the envelope, prepare then. In hindsight it’s pretty last minute, but knowing a name threatened over overthinking on his part. He’s never really been known for his level head, and in that respect, he’s his worst enemy.

He’d argued with Kira a couple of days ago about a pre-meeting meeting, something to ease his anxiety, somewhere for him to meet this woman and form some kind of fool-proof game plan; but he was shot down.

What if a pap sees them entering the same building before they even meet?

That’ll ruin the meet-cute for the fans, destroy everything the commission worked hard to create. Which is fair, honestly; she’d asked him if he read the plan, reminded him that until they can’t even have phone contact until the third meet just in case anyone catches wind of anything.

Stupid Commission and their goddamn paranoia.

So as Katsuki sits in the cue, venue a beacon of light a couple a blocks away, he opens the centre console of Maserati Gran Turismo and pulls out the envelope, unrolls it and flattens it against his thighs. This is it, no time to mull over the results, because as he idles, the cue slowly rolls forward, bringing him closer to the Gala by the minute.

As calloused fingers carefully pull at the tab, his mind races. He thinks about just how long he’s waited for this moment, how on edge he’s been since he scribbled his signature at the bottom of that contract. As much as he’s loathe to admit it, he needs to do a good job with this, needs to put in the effort, needs to milk it for all its worth.

For some reason, he thinks back to Shouto sitting in his office chair, clearly worried about his own standings in the ranks, looking sorry as hell. He wonders how Shouto’d feel if Anderson were sitting across from him at the table, offering him help he doesn’t quite need, giving him an opportunity he might not be fit to take.

But, shit, that worrying? It’s so unnecessary. Icyhot might not have even wanted to sign the fucking contract. Sometimes Katsuki doesn’t give him the credit he deserves.

He tugs the paper from the envelope and scans the page.

Your name sits there in bold block letters.

But he has no idea who the fuck you are.

Kira’s got his phone and wallet in her bag so he can comfortably walk the carpet, so he can’t even Google who the hell you are. He says your name over and over in his brain, trying to light up electrodes, trying to think of anything that could bring a face to your name.

“Fuck,” he hisses, reading the name again, skimming through the document. There’s nothing there about you, no occupation, no bio, no nothing. “Fuck.” He growls, glancing up to see the venue way closer than he anticipated.

It’s fine. It’s fine because no other person would even think about bumping into Dynamight, not even on accident. This woman is going to knock into him, he’s going to steady her, not glare at her, and then it’ll be over. He can do this.

It’s going to be fine.

By the time he realises he’s shaking his leg, he’s the fourth car in the cue. He remembers the wise words of wisdom Ei shot him as he left his house that morning: you’re gonna look good, bro; just don’t blow anyone up.

He checks his hair in the rear view mirror, makes sure the lapel of his deep, deep red suit jacket is laying nicely against the matte black if his dress shirt, that his black silken tie is sitting centre. He didn’t wanna wear red, but Kira agreed with Ei, insisted it brought out the ruby of his eyes, and would make it easier for the girl to spot him.

For you to spot him.

Fuck, he’s next.

When the limo in front of him drives away, he rolls up until he’s gestured to stop, puts the car in park and presses the handbrake on. At least the anxiety of meeting you and following this script is taking his mind off how much he hates red carpets.

Oh, great, he’s gonna blend into the fucking flooring.

“Dynamight, big fan,” the valet— tall, lanky, cat-like— opens his door, gestures widely for him to exit the car.

“Hey, thanks,” Katsuki nods, points to the button to the left of the steering wheel. “Handbrake’s on; don’t drop the clutch too fast or you’ll stall her.” He explains as he slides out of the seat, stands tall to meet the valet’s eyes. He’s still a couple of inches taller.

“I will be very gentle with her, I promise.” He grins, holding a ticket out for Katsuki as he shoves his hands into his pants pockets, lifts his chin as if assessing the slightly shorter man.

Then— deeming his valet adequate— Katsuki takes the ticket, slides it into his pocket, and nods him a good night.

When Katsuki turns towards the golden— not red, thank god— carpet, it’s as if someone’s just unmuted the television; it’s suddenly way too loud, his name being screamed from all angles, camera flashes blinding him, people crowding him. He’s ushered to the first little black X taped to the carpet by a busy little woman in a black suit, is briefly told to pause and pose for pics, before she hurries off in a blur.

He straightens a little, softens the agitation on his face a bit, but doesn’t smile. Why the hell would he? The paps are all desperately calling a mixture of his last name and his hero name, shouting at him like he’s some kind of prized pony, and he hates it. He hates the showboating, loathes the OTT smiling.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Kira, her dress a tight purple bodice with a midi length circle skirt; she’s got a headset on, just like the other PA’s and Gala staff, and a black satchel bag slung across her torso. She beams when their eyes meet, but gestures for him to keep posing, uses her pointer fingers to elongate the smile on her own face, then loudly mouths smile.

The audacity of her has a smirk sliding onto his face, and he glances at the paps for a bit, before heading towards her.

“You look good!” She beams, dusting absolutely nothing from his shoulders and looking up at him like a proud mama. “Are you ready?” She leans up to ask him, voice more muted than before.

“Yeah, I just—“ he glances around, leans down to her ear. “I don’t know who she is.”

“Huh? Really?” Kira’s eyes almost bug our of her head. “What do you mean?”

“Shit, I—“

“Bakugo Katsuki willingly participating in a photo op? I think my depression is cured.” Katsuki would know that low drawl anywhere, his gut instinct affirmed when he’s met with lazy lavender eyes, and a just as lazy smirk.

“Shinsou?” Katsuki’s eyes widen. Last he heard about mindfreak, he was working the underground, so seeing him here is kind of throwing him off.

“Nice threads; when did hell freeze over?” Shinsou’s purple hair is in a messy bun, showing off a faded undercut, his suit pirate-esque with a too-open white shirt, brown suspenders and matching brown slacks.

“Funny. Who are you here with?” Katsuki snips, looking around for a possible date.

“What, am I not famous enough to work the golden carpet?” He snips in return. “You caught me, I’m here with Denks.” Then he nods behind him, at Kaminari who’s looking in his element in fucking sequins.

It brings a grin to Katsuki’s face, and he holds out his hand for Shinsou to shake. “Good to see you either way.”

“Bakugo,” Kira tugs his jacket sleeve, eyes wide as she nods for him to keep moving. “We gotta get inside.”

“Oh, sorry dude; I know how this makes you antsy.” Shinsou watches him exchange a look with Kira, takes his hand and gives it a shake.

“See you in there?” Katsuki nods.

“Bet.” Shinsou grins, dropping his hand, sauntering off towards Denki.

“You don’t know who she is? So what, you’re just gonna look clunky and hyperaware of every woman coming within a foot of you on a busy red carpet?” Kira is hissing at him as she directs him towards where semi-retired Mt Lady is having an interview with a reporter. “Did you not open the envelope?”

“I did, I just don’t know who the fuck she is, sue me.” Katsuki snips at her, just as annoyed with himself as she is.

“Oh, if this gets out, you’ll be getting sued Bakugo, don’t you worry.” She shakes her head, and points to the X’s plastered in a zig-zag all the way up to the entrance of the building. “Make your way up, hit each black X. Don’t worry about the white or the red, just hit the black ones.”

“There’s like eleven of them.”

“I’ll meet you inside,” she smiles without her eyes. “Don’t overthink it, and be fucking nice.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Go.”

He heads towards the first X when Denki moves on, a pretty reporter in white standing there with a crew and a smartphone wave him over.

“Dynamight!” She tucks a lock of pink hair behind her ear, bounces excitedly in place on the tallest pair of stilettos Katsuki has ever seen.

For all intents and purposes, this could be her. His heart absolutely hammers in his chest and he’s not entirely sure if he’s nervous because he hates the media, or if he’s about to meet the woman he’s gotta ‘fall in love’ with.

“Good to see you, number six! How’s things?” She asks into the bottom of her phone, before holding it out to him.

“Evening,” he greets. “It’s… loud here.” He makes a point to soften his scowl, looks at all of the fans and other people on the other side of the barricade. Be fucking nice, she said. Be fucking nice.

They absolutely roar.

“I don’t think your fans are used to seeing you like this. Who dressed you tonight?” She eyes him up and down, looks like she wants to touch him, but thinks better of it.

“I dressed myself, actually.” He says with a bit of bravado, that shit eating grin splitting his face as he tucks his thumbs under the lapels of his jacket and runs them down.

She laughs, a full-bodied thing that catches Katsuki off guard, has him looking awkwardly between her and the cameraman. “No, I mean who designed what you’re wearing?”

He doesn’t know. And he can’t be rude to this girl just in case she’s her; there’s a split second of internal struggle within him before she interrupts his chain of thought.

“You don’t know, do you Dynamight?”

“Am I gonna get in trouble from my agent if I don’t?” He looks behind himself, through the crowd for the purple dress, but it’s nowhere to be seen.

“No! No way! Just tweet it later!” She laughs, patting him lightly on his upper arm.

He laughs, almost bitterly. “Right, twitter, sure.” He suppresses an eye roll, lifts his hand to wave at the crowd, the camera, then her. “Enjoy your night.”

“We love you, Dynamight!” She cheers, setting the fans off again, the noise absolutely deafening him; and he’s used to loud, used to explosive. But not like this. At least when he’s detonating, he’s full of adrenaline, not fucking nerves.

The second, third, and fourth X interviews are all more of the same; more questions about his look, about how he’s unusually chatty, about how he actually showed up. It’s hard to be fucking nice, but it does take his mind off the reason he decided to show up tonight.

Until someone’s knocking into him, and he’s instinctively wrapping an arm around their waist to stop them from falling flat on their ass. There’s a collective gasp in the immediate vicinity, but all Katsuki can see is you. You in your shimmery peach gown, eyes bright and wide, face flushed and lips parted in awe.

And he recognises you immediately; sees you almost every morning when he’s got an office shift, sometimes even nights. Ochako’s a stickler for the news, watches the same channel every day like clockwork to keep an eye on the stock market when Deku can’t; and he’s always liked the addition of you, keeps an ear out for your sing-song voice under the guise of needing to know what kind of sky he’s gonna be flinging his body into if he has to fight that day.

“Weather girl?” He breathes, finally putting a face to the name.

You just kinda gawk at him, a special kind of shock that he can only describe as wonder.

“D-Dynamight? Can you help me up?” You blink, not quite knowing what to do with your hands while he has you suspended mid-fall.

As if breaking his trance, he curses a quick, “oh, shit,” before helping you back to your feet.

“Thanks,” you smile a little awkwardly. “And sorry. For, you know, knocking into you.”

“No, uh, harm done.” He mutters back, all of the bravado he’s built up over the course of the carpet walk going down the drain as he watches you worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “You okay?”

You process his question without breaking eye contact with him, then you nod once, real slow. “Yeah,” you say, smile growing on your face. “Yeah, I think I am. Nice to meet you.”

He can’t help but mirror your smile. “Likewise.”

—

There’s a photo and an accompanying video going ‘viral’ when Katsuki wakes up in the morning. He knows this because not one, not two, not three, but seven different people send him links to varying posts, with people going a little nutso over his little meeting with you.

Kira’s happy too; she was all smiles for the rest of the night, texting on her phone, disappearing to relay things with Anderson before giving Katsuki his personal items back out of her satchel, and knocking off for the night. He didn’t plan to stay, but he did; had a few bourbons and hung out with Shinsou and Denki and their little gang until daybreak.

Shinsou’s sent him a few messages— he’s a double texter— and Katsuki touches base with him before delving into the world of social media, just to see how successful Meeting One was.

He’s fucking trending.

As much as he’s loathe to search his hashtag, he clicks into it; he scrolls through candid and posed photos of him in his red and black ensemble, people’s text posts commenting on how they would let him “eat them alive” among other—more intense—things, and pictures of you.

He looks at those the longest, studies the lines and curves of your face, compares how you look when you’re at ease versus when you smile brightly. You’re pretty in a… normal way. He’s kinda blown away that they didn’t pick some overly glamorous pop idol, that they found someone that’s practically his type.

Fuck, it makes him a gross type of nervous, though. The way that he’s not going to hate this makes it worse and better, and he’s conflicted because this might not be as bad as he anticipated, and he’s not sure if he likes that or not.

His social media deep dive takes him to your page, and he lays in his bed for what feels like hours scrolling through your content. You’re the weather girl for the nation’s most watched breakfast program, Good Morning Japan, and you’re clearly the show’s sweetheart. There’s photos of you with fluffy animals, on boats, at the beach, with celebrities. Katsuki feels like a dunce for not knowing your name when he read it on the paper.

One of the top posts in your hashtag is a photo of you in a bikini and a sarong, feet ankle deep in the shallow waters of Furuzamami Beach.

Fuck, you’re hot.

He throws his phone towards the end of the bed and begins his morning routine; Deku’s given him the office shift this week, and he intends to make the most out of it.

—

“Hey,” Katsuki pants, breathless.

“Katsuki, bro, the weather girl from channel 5?” Eijirou’s voice is smug as all as it rings through his AirPods. “She’s cute!”

“Eijirou, I will hang up on you.” He threatens, taking the museum stairs two at a time. He’s on his afternoon run through the city, pushing himself a little further than usual because of… reasons. The best part about being on office shift, is he finishes his shift as soon as paperwork is caught up on. And Katsuki is efficient as fuck.

“Akari keeps asking me when you’re over next, by the way. She said that you promised to take her to the parlour again.”

“Oh.” Yeah he did do that. Had her pretend she was feeling sick so he could slip from the grasp of some fans.

“Yeah, you’re bribing my daughter with ice cream again, aren’t you?”

“When’s your next overnighter?”

“Oh, I’m on days for the month,” he sighs, content on the other end of the line. “Tamaki’s taking my nights so I can spend more time with Aki; I’ve also got tomorrow off for the Maru’s anniversary visit.”

“That’s… nice of him.” Ah, yeah, it's the anniversary tomorrow; Eijirou’s taking it a little easier with each passing year, but the death of his wife is a painful cross to bear.

“Yeah I know, he’s a good guy. Anyways, just wanted to know if you wanted company tonight? I’m making breakfast for dinner.”

“Oh, your favourite.”

“Yeah, can’t go past it, am I right?”

“I’ll come around for a bit, but I’ve got a big day tomorrow, so I can’t sleep over.” By big day, he means he’s meeting you again, and he needs the night to himself to overthink the whole thing.

“You got a whole room there, though.”

“Ei, as much as I love you and Aki, I love my bed more.”

“Okay, that’s fair.” There's some shuffling on his end, paperwork probably, then he perks back up. “How long have you been feeding me decaf tea?”

“What?”

“I have decaf tea in my cupboard at home.”

“Ei, I give you decaf every time.”

“Oh.”

“See you tonight; do you need me to bring anything?”

“Nah, I’m all organised.”

There’s a pause where Katsuki contemplates bringing up the anniversary, but thinks better of it. “Be over around six.”

—

He’s not all organised.

If Katsuki could pretend to be surprised, he would, but, “You forgot the eggs? For breakfast for dinner? No eggs?”

“Dude, don’t do this, Akari’s already given me shit for it.”

“It’s fine,” Katsuki suppresses a grin. “I’ll run down and get some. Aki, want anything from the corner store?”

“Chocolate milk!” She yells from her room upstairs.

“Hey, get beers, too.” Eijirou says offhandedly.

This makes Katsuki pause. “Ei.”

“Kats.” He says in response, not meeting his gaze.

“Ugh, fine.” He grunts, sliding his shoes back on and toying with the black facemask in his pocket. “You can thank Maru for my leniency.” He says, glare hot on his friend. Eijirou just grins back as he fixes his stupid ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron behind his back, and Katsuki pulls on his beanie and mask, setting out for the walk.

He knows he wants to settle down a little further from the city. Ideally, even further than this. Sure, it’s a quiet neighbourhood, safe, where the houses have yards, and there’s grass, and trees, but… Katsuki needs more space. Privacy.

His relationship with the spotlight is rocky at best, and there’s this nagging in the back of Katsuki’s brain that warns him off all of this social media shit, the trending, the paparazzi, the overzealous fans.

The bell jingles as he enters the corner shop; it’s later than rush hour, but earlier than the typical teenaged late night snack visit, so the place is quiet.

He grabs the eggs from the shelf and heads down the aisle to the fridges, set on pulling the door open and grabbing a six pack of Sapporos.

“Oh!” A woman gasps, about to grab the handle as he reaches for it. “Sorry!” Her apology slips from her lips, and he feels his face flush a little under his mask.

It’s his fault, he’s been in his own head all afternoon. “No, I—”

It’s you.

You seem to make the realisation just as he does, your eyes widening and a gasp leaving your lips. And you both stare, his own eyes glued yours as if he were stuck in some kind of trance, as if you had him under some kind of spell.

You blink first, and he forces himself to look away for a second, so he can catch his bearings.

“I’m sorry Bakugo, I wasn’t paying attention.” You’re wearing a facemask as well, but your smile pushes your cheeks up to crinkle your eyes.

“Nah, neither was I,” he admits. “You live around here?”

“Me? No, I’m cat-sitting for a friend.” You laugh. “Gosh, this is surreal, isn’t it? Imagine running into you here of all places.”

“Yeah, both of us buying beers,” he does his best to joke— which sounds fucking stupid, by the way— but you laugh a little more, glance around the shop before leaning closer to him.

“Feels like we shouldn’t be talking yet, doesn’t it?” Your eyes almost sparkle under the harsh fluorescent lighting, and he can’t help but stare. “I just wanna say thanks, though— for catching me at the Gala. I wasn’t going to trip so hard, but you were standing there like some grumpy Adonis, and I—” you lean up to whisper in his ear. “I got nervous and actually tripped.”

“Lucky I got good reflexes, huh?” He quips back, suddenly feeling super nervous— which is weird as hell.

“The best— Oh, I better let you get back to your night.” You take a step back, open the door and grab a bottle of wine, boots squeaking on the linoleum floor when you crouch down to grab a 6-pack of beers. “These ones?”

He nods, points to the pink knee-length rain boots you’re wearing. “They’re cute,” he can’t help but snicker. “All part of the weather girl uniform, I guess?”

You hand him the beers with a laugh as you stand. “I happen to think they suit me,” you say in defence, pointing and tapping a toe dramatically.

“You’d be right,” he says a little too gently, clearing his throat when you look up at him with surprise through your lashes. “I, uh,” he starts, those damn nerves not going away. “See you around.”

“Y-yeah, sure.” You nod. “I’m gonna check out the ice cream, bye!” Then in a flash of tan coat and pink boots, you’re heading back towards the frozen section, and he’s shaking his head, eggs in one hand and beers in the other.

He tries not to stare too much, tries not to dwell on the lightness of his heart, or how god damn likeable you are. Instead he hastily grabs a chocolate milk, heads to the checkout, pays for the goods, and leaves.

—

There’s an undercurrent of sorrow that he can feel Eijirou trying to push down all evening. It doesn’t quite seep into Akari— she was only a baby when her mum passed— but Eiji’s frayed edges scratch at Katsuki, and deep into the night they’re both tipsy, sitting on the back porch nursing beers after Akari heads to bed.

They don’t need to talk— far past silence being uncomfortable— but when Eijirou’s shoulders start to shake, Katsuki wraps an arm around him, pulls his head to his chest, and lets him sob.

He stays on the couch, still not ready to christen those All Might bedsheets.

—

The second “official” meeting is supposed to happen while he’s on duty. He read through the file this time, so he’s prepared; maybe even a little… over prepared.

It’s morning, and you’re supposed to be at a certain famous bakery, sampling the goods in an advertising bid between the cafe and your work; weather on location, or something ridiculous. Then, he’s supposed to enter, and he’s supposed to look at you like ‘oh, you’re from the Gala’, and you’re supposed to look at him the same way.

The Commission didn’t account for Katsuki running into an actual villain.

He wipes his bloodied nose on the back of his glove, watches as Iida drives the crook away in the back of a paddy wagon, then pulls his other glove off with his teeth to look at his watch.

9:15am. The meeting was scheduled for 8:10am.

“All good, Dynamight?” One of the EMT’s waves him over and he inwardly groans.

“It’s just my nose, I’m fine.” He insists, swatting the little green man away.

“Just let me do a couple of observations, dude, it’ll take two minutes.” His pink eyes narrow up at Katsuki, and the grumpy blonde gives in, following him over to a bench and sitting down, letting him work his paramedic magic on him.

His phone vibrates in the pocket of his tac pants, and his watch tells him it’s Kira. He taps a few buttons on his watch, connects it effortlessly to the earpiece in his left ear. “Hey,”

“Bakugo, what happened? Anderson is pissed.” She hisses through the earpiece.

“I am currently with…” He glances down at the short man crouching around his med-pack, reads his name badge. “Midori— Really? Your name is the colour of your skin?”

“Bakugo.” Kira presses.

“That’s my Japanese name, my real name’s Timothy.” Midori sasses back, pink glare venomous.

“Timothy, huh?” Katsuki tests the name on his tongue, gauges Midori’s reaction to the pronunciation; the other man seems to soften a little.

“Bakugo.”

“Just use Timothy—“

“Bakugo, focus!” Kira borderline barks in his ear.

“Right, yeah, sorry, I’m here.” Katsuki sighs, looking up at the puffy white- grey clouds overhead.

“We have to reschedule for tomorrow,” Kira sighs, probably doing that thing where she pushes her glasses up and pinches the bridge of her nose. “She’s heading to the coast, though, so you’re gonna have to—“

Kira wants him to what?

His semi-sunny disposition sours. “I can’t do that.”

“Bakugo.”

“Kira,” he starts, feeling his blood pressure rise along with the octave of his voice. He glances down at Mido—Timothy, tries to control his volume. “I’m on patrol shifts this week, I can’t do that.”

He can’t let Izuku or Shouto or Ochako down. That, and he can’t think of a good excuse to be heading to the coast.

“No, you’re right. It’d be better if she could meet you halfway or something.” Kira sighs, conceding a little.

He drops his chin, focuses that glare of his at the pavement next to Timothy. “Not half way—”

“Oh, ouch, are you okay?” Pink rain boots step into his vision, and when he looks up, you’re smiling down at him. He just… stares stupidly up at you, feels something warm and wet drip over his lip as your eyes widen. “You’re bleeding, Bakugo.”

“Shit,” he turns away from you, swipes at the wetness of his upper lip, knowing he’s probably just spreading it.

“Here,” you gently bully his hand away from his face, dab at him with something damp and smelling of coconut. It takes a moment for him to register that you’re sitting next to him, wiping at him like a nurse while the god damn EMT is kneeling at his feet, and Kira is screaming for his attention in his ear.

Without even thinking, he ends that call, silences his earphones on his smartwatch.

“You’ve got your work boots on,” he starts, wary. “You on the clock?”

“Oh, I had a thing a few blocks away, and heard my new favourite hero apprehended some bad guy in the same district.” Your focus isn’t on him, you’re in your handbag, fussing around with wet wipes and a little plastic bag and a handkerchief.

“So, you came for a walk?” He asks, staring. Staring because seeing you on social media is vastly different to seeing you in person, and so close. He could count your lashes, could reach out and test the softness of your skin, your glossy lips—

“Yep.” You grin, looking up and meeting his eyes.

It’s a spark— the same one from the corner store— and it pulls deep in his chest, your beauty and charm and the peace you bring almost overwhelming, yet entirely endearing—

“Hey— sorry, I know this is a wrong place, wrong time type thing,” Timothy stands up, fishes his phone out of his pocket, your spell broken as you both look up at him. “But I’m a huge fan,”

“Of me?” You chirp, surprised. And it takes Katsuki a moment, because usually it’s him being approached with nervous apprehension.

“Yeah, who else?”

You send a sideways glance to Katsuki, “uh, the actual top ten hero in our midst?”

“The top ten hero doesn’t look good in a swimsuit.” Katsuki says under his breath, and you giggle while Timothy pales.

“I’m sure you do,” you whisper back to him, before standing up. “Alright, sure, a selfie?” You ask, all of your attention on Timothy, who smiles at you, his pink irises akin to sparkling hearts; and much to his horror, Katsuki feels like he wants to steal you away from him.

“S-sounds good to me,” Timothy stammers, just as enamoured as Katsuki feels.

“‘Kay,” you agree, smile big and bright and Katsuki has to look away or he might get giddy by proxy. Timothy’s cheeks flush when you stand close—too close, probably— and you direct him into taking a few pics, before making him show you each of them, your nose scrunching as you scrutinise each one.

“Why does my nose look like that?” You frown at the EMT, a little wounded kitty.

“You look great though! You don’t mind if I post it to social media?” He asks, and Katsuki resists an eye roll.

“Of course not! Make sure to tag me so I can follow you back.”

Katsuki stands, hands on his hips. “Perfect, are you done? We’re busy.” He means to say that he’s busy, and he also means to glare at both of you, but it just doesn’t pan out that way. So, he runs with it, throws caution to the wind, and offers his hand to you.

All to quickly, he’s got anxiety nibbling at his heels— the fear of rejection, of ‘am i doing too much too quickly?’ of ‘should I be going off script just because you are?’. It sets in, and almost sends him spiralling. Almost, is the key, though, because before that little beast can sink its teeth into him, you’re taking his hand, practically skipping to his side, and beaming that too-brilliant smile up at him.

“I know a cafe,” you say, waving that pesky EMT off and almost pulling him away from the little crowd Katsuki’s pretending not to notice.

“I bet you do,” he can’t help but look at you— and it feels so schoolboy, and too soon, and off script— and he can’t help but get swept away in the ease at which you flow.

“We can share a parfait,” you lean into him with a little smile, whisper it like a secret. Your arm links around his then, and you lean against his bicep, look up at him through your lashes like a Disney branded cherub.

“Bet you’ll eat the cherry,” he snickers, trying to gain the upper hand, trying to gauge whether or not you’re getting swept up in him, too, because this… this thing isn’t natural, isn’t created from a want, but a need, a contract—

“Silly,” you pull away a bit and pout, “we’ll get two cherries.” And, fuck, you’re pretty. Pretty in all of the ways he loves, like the Commission have his tastes on file. You’re kind where he’s mean, and fun where he’s serious, edges soft where his are hard.

The seed of doubt’s been planted, though, because he can feel himself closing up, shutting down. Even though he’d love to stay in this flirtatious little moment with you, soak up all that attention you’re showering him with, he needs to be realistic— is wired to do so.

You’re acting.

He’s acting.

At least, he’s supposed to be

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #mybigbangacademia #atmospheric fic #panzer.writing #leese writes

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pxrxcxa · 2 years

Text

Two truths & a lie

✶ One shot

Pairing | Eddie x Female reader.

Post summary | A drunken game of truth or dare between the older gang, ends up with you sitting on Eddie's lap and neither of you can tell if it's the drinks or the feeling of each other that leads to bad decisions. Just your classic teenage antics.

What to expect | Fluff, heavy make out, fingering, F oral.

Post Warnings | Mentions of drug use, underage drinking & swearing.

Word count | 5.4 K Word Count.

As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Thankyou, P. x 🌿

Authors Note | Been having a little writers block - so hopefully this was still good - but I'm on days off from my job finally so I'm hoping I can 'reset' & get a few pieces out during the week!

___________________________________

“Be nice.” We all thundered down the stairs of Steve’s house in a single file as the doorbell rang again incessantly. I pegged a piece of popcorn at the back of his perfectly sprayed hair as Robin yelled ‘good shot’.

“I am nice Steve.” I sneered, hanging back to lean against the banister as he turned to me with the same expression, his hand wrapped around the brass door handle as he waited for me to behave myself.

“Yeah well, can you tell your face that?” I sighed and flashed him an irritated glare, setting an uncomfortable smile on my face that felt more like a grimace, as he stared at me impatiently.

“I don’t even know why you invited him, he’s the town freak AND an acquitted murderer.”

“We told you y/n, he was framed by Jason Carver. And a lot’s happened since you left, Eddie’s our friend now… and he doesn’t really hang out with his other friends since he finally graduated.” Nancy’s short curly hair shook as she jumped the last three steps, stumbling into Steve’s back as Jonathan stared with jealously, she spun back with an annoying know-it-all look on her face towards me as she blushed, refusing to meet the eyes of either of her ex-boyfriends.

1983, the year my father Jim Hopper caught me ditching school to smoke drugs, shipping me off to live with my emotionally absent mother just before our sophomore year started.

Also apparently, the year that the small, boring town of Hawkins suddenly became exciting.

Coming back to my childhood best friend Nancy wheeler, and my usual party buddy Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington – funnily enough the main reason I got kicked out of Hawkins in the first place – being friends with band geeks, social outcasts and freaks, had thrown me for a loop.

Steve had been unusually offhand about it, saying that a lot had happened since I’d been gone and that ‘you really had to be there to understand it.’ I wasn’t interested enough to push him for more details, and once the weed had come out, it had lost my focus entirely.

I didn’t really care about Eddie Munson crashing our games night, I was just in a bad mood because my last sesh had been two days ago, Steve had really struggled to keep up with the tolerance I’d built up from living in New York and hanging around with questionable characters, but I’d had no problem smashing the entirety of his stash in a matter of days as I crashed at his place.

I sighed and rolled my eyes as Steve pointed a silent finger in my direction, twisting the doorknob behind his back and spinning around to welcome the new guest with his arms wide open, a fake smile plastered on his face as he turned away from me.

I was confused for a hot second as everyone greeted the stranger as Eddie, the six foot, leaned muscled and long, curly dark-haired man leaning against the door frame, dropping his cigarette to the ground and crushing it right there on the front porch.

“Awh man c’mon, y’know my mom’s gonna kill me.” Steve whined, pointing at the black mark his sneakers exposed as he stepped inside, running his hands back through his hair in frustration.

“Keep your pants on Harrington, it’s a party isn’t it?” He held up a pack of beers as he twisted one of the cans away from the plastic and shoved it against his chest, the drink leaving wet splotches against the grey material of his shirt as Steve took it from Eddies grasp.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously as his big, dark ones darted around the warm room, briefly flickering over me as he took a double, confused look back at me. My thoughts muddled together as I tried to piece the image of the rounded, baby faced, buzz cut eleven-year-old I’d gone to middle school with, with the unfamiliar, grown man in front of me. But the group had said Eddie Munson was joining us, and I didn’t see a reason for them to lie to me about it. Robin noticed his lingering stare on my face as he tried to place me as well.

“This is y/n, Eddie. You remember y/n right? From band?” She held her hands up in a ridiculous move as she mimicked playing a trumpet. I reached down the stairs to push her arms back to her sides, my cheeks flaming as recognition flared in his eyes.

“Oh yeah, that’s right.” Eddie nodded slowly and raised two fingers in a half wave towards me, pressing his lips together awkwardly.

Nancy clapped her hands together after a moment of silence making us all jump.

“We’re set up in the living room.” Jonathan flinched back against the wall, knocking off a family photo of Steve and his parents, all with stiff smiles on their faces, as Nancy brushed past him.

“Sweet, lead the way.” Eddie smirked and playfully shouldered Steve as he followed after Nancy; Robin and I trailing after them as we shared an uneasy look.

___________________________________

‘Ummm….. Dare!” Robin grinned with a mouth full of potato chips as she leant back on her arms, spreading out across the carpet as she wiggled her feet. We were all seated in a loose circle in the middle of the floor, the expensive, barely used furniture of the living room pressed up against the walls to make more room for us.

“Dare you to shot gun this.” Steve tossed her a beer, it tumbled from her fingers as she clumsily caught it, our cheers echoing around the room as she punctured it with her house keys and tilted her head back to drain the entire can.

I laughed as she belched and wiped her mouth with back of her hand, staring back down into my lap as I rolled a cigarette, bits of tobacco spilling out onto the carpet under my crossed legs. My eyes flickered up across the circle as I felt someone’s gaze on me, I narrowed my brows as I met Eddie’s sullen stare. He watched me and brought his beer to his mouth as I raised the smoke to my lips, holding eye contact as I ran my tongue over the bitter paper to seal the cigarette shut. I smirked as he twitched and ripped his face away from me, turning to Robin next to him as she spoke.

“Nancy!” She jumped a little as we all looked to her expectantly, Jonathan’s face blushed hard as he got cut off mid-sentence.

“Truth or Dare?” Robin grinned cheekily, reaching across the circle to grab another drink from the pile in front of us.

Nancy nervously tightened her hands around the beer she had been nursing, chewing her lip as she considered her choice. She smiled as she watched Robin rock back and forth tipsily.

“I’m going to go with truth.” Jonathan gave her a side glance as Steve’s eyes flashed to her face.

“Okay fine…” Robin tapped her chin. I looked over at Eddie next to her, watching the muscles in his neck flex as he took a swig of his drink, my stomach flipped as I looked up to see his wide, dark eyes staring at me from over the top of his can.

“Who is a better kisser? Jonathan, or Steve?” The latter choked on his drink as Jonathan scratched the back of his neck nervously. Nancy shot a betrayed look at Robin as she shrugged her shoulders innocently.

“Uh Robin, I don’t think-“ Steve wiped his chin from his spilled drink, red blotches appearing under his cheeks as he avoided Nancy’s stare.

“Oh screw that.” I interrupted him, bringing my cigarette to my mouth and leaning forward to pull my lighter from my pocket. “None of that PG rated shit around here, the real question is… Who is better in bed?” I raised my eyebrows and smirked at the shocked look on everyone’s faces, except for Eddie’s. He raised his arm with his drink is his hand in a toast towards me as he smiled with a sort of approving expression.

Steve leant across to rip the smoke from my mouth as I went to light it. “Not in here y/n, God.” He whined.

“Fine.” I snapped, flashing my hand out to grab it back from him. “I’ll smoke outside when Nancy answers the question.”

“Uhhh I don’t think-” Nancy begun, her big eyes dropping to stare at the floor as she stumbled over her words.

“Oh come on, I thought you’d loosen up a bit over the years Nance.” I rolled my eyes, sighing at her fidgetiness.

“Well.” Her eyes flickered over nervously to her most recent ex. “I was Jonathan’s first, and Steve was more experienced so…” Eddie and I burst into loud laughter, as Robin buried her face in her hands and spoke through her fingers, Steve took a sip of his drink, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Ew, I did not need to know that. And he did not need that ego boost.” Robin nodded her head towards Steve, standing up and brushing crumbs off her front.

I stood up with her, my legs tingling from sitting still for too long. “I’m going for a smoke.” I stared at Steve, sticking to my promise.

“I wouldn’t mind one either.” My eyes flicked to his as Eddie stood up, his leather jacket and denim vest rustling as he stretched, I licked my lips as his thin shirt rode up, exposing a pale strip of skin above his belt. He smirked at me as he caught me staring.

“We’ll all go.” Nancy exclaimed as she got caught in a weird three-way stare between those still left sitting on the floor.

“….Kay then.” I laughed and bent down to scoop up a fresh drink, turning to head out the back door towards the patio. I shivered as I felt someone tall hovering closely behind me, the heat radiating off of him sending a dangerous tingle down my spine.

Dammit

Steve was going to give me so much shit if I hooked up with the guy I’d spent the better part of an afternoon complaining about.

Robin brushed past me as she slammed the bag of drinks onto the glass tabletop. “Careful dipshit, your clumsy ass is going to break something.” Steve waved his hands around angrily as the rest of us pulled out chairs, the clouds of steam misting off the heated pool swirling around us.

Eddie did a quick count with his eyes. “Uh Harrington, got anymore chairs?” He looked around, a spare chair with one of the legs snapped off pushed away against the side of the house.

“Y/n!” Nancy exclaimed, clapping her small hands together as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

“Truth or Dare?” She cocked her head to the side as she stared me down, the flame from my lighter died as my finger slid off of it.

“Go on then Nance, Dare.” I smirked as her eyes flashed, my smile fading from my face as she spoke.

“Since there aren’t enough chairs, I dare you to sit on Eddie’s lap for the rest of the night.” My face flushed as everyone laughed, unaware of the slight throbbing forming between my legs at the thought of being that close to him.

The others took a seat as Nancy and I stared each other down, her face breaking into a mean smirk as I hesitated. “Scared y/n?”

I looked over at where Eddie was sitting at the end of the table, his legs widening slightly, like he was offering an invitation as he raised his eyebrows at me, a small grin playing around the corner of his lips as he took a drag of his cigarette.

“Of course not.” I snapped, walking around the table to stand next to him, staring daggers at the others as they all laughed lightly. The night air fluttered my short skirt around my thighs, drawing Eddie’s eyes to them.

“May I?” I snarked, nodding my head at him. He slowly ran his glare up and down my body, leaning back further in the chair as he lifted his hips into the air slightly, readjusting himself.

“Be my guest.” The laughing died down around the table as I sighed and sat down, perched on the edge of his lap, leaning most of my weight on my toes. His hands moved to the sides of my thighs, tapping them lightly to get me to look back at him.

“It’s okay, you can relax.” My breathing sped up as his dark eyes glared into mine, smiling kindly as he waited for my answer.

I put my hands on the arms rests of the chair and used them to push myself further back into his lap, so that my feet were lifted off the ground and I could feel the hardness of his chest pushing into me. Eddie’s arm snaked along my side and settled on top of my leg as he leaned to see around me, pulling his lighter from his pocket and bringing it to the cigarette still between my lips.

I mumbled a thanks as I leant forward towards the flame, watching his free hand ball into a fist as I accidently grinded into his lap. My skirt was loose around my waist, so that it was just my underwear separating me from the roughness of his jeans. He wasn’t erect, but I could still feel him pressing up into my clothed slit, his belt buckle pushing into my ass.

And if I could feel him, then I was sure as shit that he could feel me.

Steve’s voice snapped me out of my daze as I ripped my eyes away from Eddie’s.

“Y/n, it’s your turn.” He slid a cold can down the tabletop to my end as I drained the last dregs of my drink.

“I’m over this, let’s play a different game.” I sighed as I crushed the beer can, leaning back further into Eddie’s body as the alcohol blurred my vision a little.

“Like what?” Robin piqued up, kicking her feet up on the table, Steve sighed and pushed her legs back down.

“You guys ever heard of two truths & a lie?” I grinned, wiggling my eyebrows seductively.

Blank faces were my answer, the party girl in me groaned at their boringness.

Eddie’s chest grumbled as I leant forward to put my elbows on the table, dragging my ass against his lap. I shot a look at him, but he had his head tilted back, his eyes pressed closed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep inhale of his cigarette.

“Basically you say two… outrages… things about yourself that’s true, and one that isn’t. If we guess the lie, you have to take a shot.” Robin stood up from her seat at my words, running back into the house to grab a bottle of whiskey, chanting ‘shots, shots, shots’ as she danced on the spot.

“You go first to show us how it’s done.” She said, spilling brown liquor as she poured it into short glasses grouped messily in front of her.

I tapped my chin as I pretend to think about it, falling back into the crook of Eddie’s arm dramatically as I stared up at him through my lashes, the alcohol running through my body making me comfortable and brave. He smirked down at me in a half disappointing half amused look as I twisted back and forth on top him, swinging my legs. He stared at me with an expression that said he knew, that I knew what I was doing.

I sat up suddenly, squeezing his knees as I arched froward away from him. “Okay…. I can put both ankles behind my head.” Robins eyes popped out of her skull as Steve swung his head back and forth, covering his ears. Eddie chewed on his bottom lip as he fought back a grin.

“I’ve had a threesome… And I’ve never been arrested.” I pressed my mouth together as I tried to keep a straight face, failing as I burst into laughter as Steve yelled out.

“Third one’s a Goddamn lie y/n, because I was in the back seat of your dads cruiser with you the first time we both got arrested.” Nancy smacked him on the shoulder playfully as Robin grinned excitedly. I popped another beer can open as I raised it in their direction.

“And cheers to being the reason I got kicked outta Hawkins, Steve.” He toasted me back as we both downed our drinks. Eddie jostled underneath me as he turned to look at me incredulously.

“Wait, you're Hoppers kid?” He narrowed his brows as he smiled uncertainly at me.

“Uh yeah.” I laughed at the expression on his face. “Wait why do you look so worried?”

“I’m not exactly his favourite person.” He admitted.

“Neither am I.” I pursed my lips, rolling my eyes.

“So you’re not going to care if I smoke this?” He leaned into me to pull a fat joint from his jacket pocket, twisting it around.

“Only if you don’t share.” I cocked my eyebrow, watching a slow smile spread across his face.

“Here you are m’lady.” He held his arm out, angling the joint towards my mouth.

“Uh! I could kiss you Eddie Munson!” A shock of pleasure shot through me as I leant froward across his lap, the cool buckle of his belt pressing up against my clothed clit the further I moved forward.

“Well, what are you waiting for then?” He grinned, pulling his hand back.

“Don’t tempt me.” I smacked his chest with the back of my hand lightly, staring over the flame at his serious eyes as he opened his lighter and lit up the joint for me, brushing the corner of my mouth with his rough fingers as he pulled away.

___________________________________

Under the heady smoke and warm alcohol, my body was charged. The voices of the group sounded far away as they played the game between them, I was lost in the distraction of the mixed drinks, strong weed and the feeling of Eddie’s body beneath me. My high made every slight touch ten times more potent, my skin felt like it was on fire every time I felt Eddie move under me. He spread his legs, making both my thighs that were crossed over them, spread with him. I gasped as the cold air flew up under my skirt, hitting my clothed slit and swirling around the warm wet patch in my panties. I moaned quietly and rolled forward to push my skirt down between my thighs, but that was a mistake. I felt him stiffen as his arms shot out to snake around my middle, his face pressed into my back and his voice low as he mumbled into the fabric of my shirt.

“God, can you please stop that?” His tone was gruff as his arms tightened around me. My face blazed as I felt him harden beneath me, my eyes shooting to our friends around the table, but they were too caught up with themselves to pay attention to us.

“Stop what?” I whispered innocently, grinding forward as I twisted back to look at him, he sat back to stare down at me in his lap, clenching his jaw.

“You fucking know what, you keep pushing your tight ass into my dick and it’s driving me crazy.”

The corners of my mouth turned up as I slowly arched back, dragging my ass across his crotch, his dick pushing up against my clit. I moaned so only he could hear and rolled my head back against his shoulder, pushing my chest out as he swore under his breath.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna make you pay, I don’t care if anyone sees. I’ve already told you. Stop it.” His hot breath tickled my ear, sending an electrified shiver up my spine as I closed my eyes, letting the false confidence from drinking spur me forward.

“What if I don’t want to stop?”

Gripping my wrists, he guided both of my hands to the small of my back, where my fingers brushed the hard planes of his abdomen.

"Wrap your hands around my belt. Don’t move them."

“Is this a mistake?” I whispered fiercely back as a sober thought flashed through my mind, my thin wall of resistance slipping away with each moment his dark eyes sent stabs of wanting fire through me.

Eddie sat forward, leaning close to my ear, he murmured, "I promise you, whatever we are together, it’s not a mistake. It’s too good to be a mistake."

We both jolted as Robin called out my name, breaking us apart as we both leant into each other. “Y/n, it’s your go again.” She snapped pointedly, holding a hand up to Steve’s face as she cut him off, leaving him with a miffed expression.

“Uh okay, I don’t have a criminal record, I’ve never had a boyfriend and –“ Steve voice rang out to cut me off.

“Hang on Robin, you absolutely cannot say –“ I ignored his tangent as I turned back in Eddie’s lap to finish my turn, dropping my voice so the others couldn’t hear.

“And I’m not horny right now.” My voice fell to an almost whisper as I turned my head to look at Eddie behind me, his hips bucking up into me softly, almost like he was doing it unconsciously. I grinned as his eyes fell to my lips, his hard-on pressing up strongly into me, the wetness between my legs grew as the thought that there were only a few very thin pieces of fabric separating us sent a shiver through me. His stare shot back up to meet mine as he registered what I’d said.

“I know that’s a lie as well y/n. Because you’re kinda hot, and I can feel you.” His breathing was heavy as he stared unblinkingly at me, his eyes darkened entirely as his heated gaze sent a shock of fire through me. A drunken giggle burst through my lips when I didn’t understand him.

“You think I’m hot Munson?” I reached up to clasp my hands behind his neck, burrowing down into his lap and blatantly grinding against the hardness in his jeans. A slow smile spread across his face.

“Well yes… but that’s not what I’m talking about.” His eyes travelled down my chest to stare at my skirt pointedly, I gasped as I caught on to what he was saying, embarrassment flooding through me. But Eddie just grinned, resting his palms against my hips. My gaze flickered between his plump red lips and his wide, dark brown doe-eyes as tension zapped in the air between us.

My willpower to hold back, snapped into dust as he ran his large hands over my thighs and up my stomach. “I’m gonna go freshen up, d’ya wanna give me a hand?” the amused expression slid from his face as he leaned forward eagerly, tapping the side of my ass as he moved below me.

I looked back at the table at our friends across from us, Jonathan was leaning into Nancy as he whispered into her ear, her brows narrowed in frustration. Robin and Steve were waving their hands angrily as they got swept up in a heated argument over something stupid. I took his hand in mine as we both stood up from the table, the others not paying us any mind as we slipped past them into the bright house.

I stumbled over the carpet as I towed Eddie towards the bathroom, his hands shot out to my waist to steady me as I fell into a fit of giggles. He towered over me as his fingers pressed into my hip bones, pulling me against him, guiding me over to the small ‘powder room’ next to the bar. We both paused to look back over our shoulders, our friends still drunkenly chatting amongst themselves. I smiled up at his chin nervously as I twisted the metal door handle, pulling him in behind me quickly and snapping the door shut. We were doused in darkness, our laughs way too loud in the silence as my hands fumbled against the wall looking for the light switch.

“Shit where is it?. Ow, Eddie! That was my foot.” As my eyes adjusted to the blackness I watched the outline of him move closer.

“Uhg, forget about it, come ‘ere.” He grumbled, reaching out in the dark to find me. I stretched up to clasp his shoulders as my feet left the ground, Eddie wrapped his strong arms around my middle to lift me onto the bench next to the sink, pushing me back against the mirror and spreading my legs apart. He settled in comfortably between them, locking his lips with mine as the sweet taste of whiskey invaded my brain. His lips were soft and purposeful, moulding with mine perfectly as we both tried to take control. His tongue stroked my bottom lip, begging for access, he moaned as I let him in, twisting my hands in his hair as he bent me further into him. I shuddered as he ran his hands over my body, exploring every crevice and curve with his rough, warm fingers.

His mouth moved from mine to trace patterns along my jaw line, I scooted forward across the bench to press my hips into his, grinding up and down against his hard dick as he lightly nipped at my skin with his teeth. His hands moved to my waist to lift my shirt up, snaking under the thin fabric to caress the soft sink beneath my bra. He moaned my name as I kissed down the side of his neck, sucking at the skin roughly as I wrapped my legs around him, the hard feeling of his contoured body sent a crazed need through me, urging me forward as my hands reached out to touch every inch of him. I shushed him and laughed as he swore under his breath, his lean forearm wrapping around my ass to pull me in closer to him.

“These walls are pretty thick, which means you and I can be as loud as we want.” He groaned, trapping my face in his hands as he crushed his lips to mine. I surrendered into the feeling of him with a moan of my own, melting against his chest as my fingers fell across his shirt to his belt, clumsily trying to undo it. His deft hands smacked mine away, pinning them both behind my back in just one of his, his free hand ran along the length of my bare thigh, tracing soft, slow excruciating patterns along it as he made my way to my sensitive spot. I squirmed underneath him as I throbbed, clenching around nothing as his light fingers danced under my skirt across my clothed slit, he grinned against my face as I huffed in frustration, twisting against his hand as I tried to push myself deeper into it, begging for some kind of release.

“What’s wrong? I thought you liked teasing.” I didn’t answer him as I whined, pulling my hands free of his grasp and tugging his arm back down between my thighs, arching my back as I pouted my lips at him. He smiled again and kissed me deeply, letting me guide his hand between my puffy lips. He groaned as he slipped a finger under my panties, tracing a line up and down my slit as he felt my wetness, my swollen clit throbbing as he barely flicked his finger over it.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already.” I whimpered and rolled my hips back, so his hand rubbed my sensitive spot, figuring out what I was doing he reached up to my shoulder and pressed me back against the bench so he had a better angle, rubbing his thumb over my clit as I shook under him, my eyes rolling back as sinful sounds tumbled from my mouth. Bright stars burned behind my eyes as he slipped a long finger into me, he shot forward to kiss the moan from my mouth as he stroked his hand inside of me, curling his finger up as I dug my nails into his arm, muttering his name against his face as his pace increased.

The familiar warm, burning sensation of an orgasm knotted in my stomach as he continued to flick his thumb over my budding clit, curling his finger into the soft spot inside of me at the same time. His chest heaved as his breath sped up with mine, wrapping his free hand around my neck to pull my face closer to his. The crashing waves of pleasure sounded in my ears, almost blocking out the pants of ‘you like that’ Eddie was whispering into my ear in-between my moans. My thighs clenched around his waist as I faltered on the brink of the edge, he slipped from my grasp as he pulled away from me suddenly.

My yell of protest was stolen from my lips as he tossed my legs over his shoulders, falling to his knees to bury his face in between my legs. I stumbled forward slightly as the heavenly feeling of his warm tongue lapped at my sensitive clit. I reached down without thinking, tugging at his brown curly waves roughly. I gasped and loosened my grip a little, glancing down to mutter an apology. He pulled back to look at me from between my thighs, my wetness glistening on his chin in the moonlight seeping through the window.

“It’s okay, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while I’m between your legs.”

I sighed in content and leant back against the mirror as he licked and sucked at my pussy, wrapping his hands around my ass to bury himself in further, rewarding me with deep strokes of his tongue the louder I moaned his name. A low burning shot through me as he wrapped his arms around my thighs, running his face up and down my slit, pressing his nose against my clit as he pressed his tongue into me. A slight cloud of insecurities reared its head before he trapped my sensitive spot between his teeth softly and pulled, wrenching my thighs apart as I pressed them together tightly to try and writhe away from him. I turned my head into my shoulder to hide my face away as I shook, the ecstatic feeling building up quickly and threatening to spill over. I stumbled and gasped his name I trembled, reaching down to twist my fingers in his hair as I curled over him between my legs.

The doorknob jingled loudly as someone banged on the door, their muted voice wining through the wood. “Who the hell is in here? Pleaseeeeee hurry up! I need to peeeeeee.”

I laughed in frustration against Eddie’s mouth as my orgasm halted and failed, swearing obscenities in my head at Robin as she slumped against the outside of the door, banging her head back against it. We both froze for a second before he stood up, his raging boner pressing into my drenched pussy as I pulled him into me, pressing my lips to his hungrily as the taste of my essence swirled around in my mouth with his tongue.

“You didn’t get to come did you?” He confirmed, swiping his hand over the lower half of his face as he leant towards me. I pressed my lips together as I smiled, shaking my head slightly.

“Almost, though.” I whispered, clenching my legs back around his sides as my throbbing between my thighs slowly died down, the wetness from my cunt dripping down my legs.

Eddie groaned and pushed his forehead into mine. “Do you think she’ll go away if we’re quiet?” He whispered, tracing his hands over my thighs.

We waited a moment before there was a thud and another drowned out ‘pleaseeeeeee’.

“D’ya think your dad will shoot me if I come over to your place?” He laughed; our silent pretence gone as he reached over to flick the light on.

“Doesn’t matter” I shrugged, covering my eyes from the sudden bright light. “I’m not staying there; I’ve been crashing here at Steve’s”

“Even better, I’ve always wanted to try out these silk sheets that Steve’s always raging on about.”

___________________________________

Also Readers - if anyone is looking for a slow burn Eddie x y/n, check out my Opposite Ends series. 🌻

___________________________________

#eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson headcanon #eddie stranger things #eddie fanfic #eddie munson one shot #stranger things s4 #stranger things #eddie smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie fluff

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augustvandyne · 3 months

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Angela lopez x reader

Lucy and Nyla try to set up their two best friends

-🖇

hey again! this one’s really long, and i’m not sorry.

setup

Everyone could see it from a mile away, even Sergeant Grey. So the question was, why couldn’t the two of you see it?

I mean, Angela is a detective, for goodness sake!

How could she not see that the two of you have the biggest crushes on each other?

Well, that was Nyla and Lucy’s mission for this week. To get you and Angela to, for one, see your feelings for each other. Because it’s been oncoming since the first day the two of you met. And then for two, they want to get you two together.

Yesterday, Nyla had found Lucy at lunch, and proposed this plan.

And now, I know what you’re thinking. Nyla came to Lucy?

Well, she was tired of the unknown flirting, longing looks, the touching.. it was making her annoyed. You guys were basically dating at this point, but every time Nyla brought it up, Angela denied it.

Let’s begin!

Monday

You rode with Lucy almost everyday, so imagine your surprise when Lucy told you she was going to be riding with mostly Nyla this week.

You kind of just shrugged it off, figuring she might have wanted to broaden her horizons and try out detective work. Which didn’t really make sense, because you thought her heart was set on undercover work.

Little did you know, they were plotting against you and Angela.

You also didn’t mind because that meant you would be with Angela. You two were friends, and hung out every once in a while, but you did enjoy her company and talked to her whenever you could.

Today you and Angela were mostly staying at the station, so you’d talked a bunch.

Nothing you hadn’t already known about her, though.

Eventually her phone starts dinging repeatedly, and you look up to see her scrunched up face, and you knew what that meant. She was frustrated.

“Jeez,” Angela finally gives in and flips the phone over.

You watch her as her frown grows deeper, and her frustration turns into anger. She rolls her eyes, placing her phone on silent and into her bag on the floor.

“Everything okay?” You ask, making her look up you.

Her features and voice soften, “Fine.”

She sits there and begins tapping her foot on the floor, which you pretend not to notice as you focus on the case files in front of you. She lets out a loud sigh that has you dropping the papers and gives her your full attention.

“It’s Wesley,” Angela admits. “Do you like him?”

You try your best not to make a face. You knew Wesley well.

He made his appearance throughout the station due to him being a defense lawyer. He often represents criminals in your interrogation room.

You’re best at interrogating criminals, so most people seek you out to do their interrogations, which is how you know Wesley so well.

But did you like him?

Well that was a whole different story.

He’d taken Angela out a few times, to which you didn’t like. He’d annoyed you now that he went out with her. You couldn’t explain why it bothered you, but it did.

The two of them had broken things off about a week ago, Angela’s doing, but you couldn’t get the reason out of Angela.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” You raise one shoulder.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Angela pursed her lips. “Tell me the truth.”

“He’s kind of.. uh, an asshole?” You wince thinking of what Angela’s reaction to your opinion would be.

“Hm,” She doesn’t look fazed, which is good. But that could also mean she was upset and was just hiding it. “Well, he’s the one blowing my phone up.”

“I figured as much,” You say.

“He wants to try again.”

There was that feeling again. Deep in your stomach. You wanted this conversation to stop, but you loved listening to Angela talk. You could listen all day.

“What do you want?” You tilt your head slightly.

“I don’t know,” Angela bites the inside of her cheek. “That’s why I’m talking to you. He’s been texting me a lot lately, asking me to go out with him again, but I ended things for a reason.”

“And what reason was that?” You thought you’d at least try, but you already knew her answer.

She hesitates, and you think she might actually tell you, but then she just shook her head.

“Mm,” You clear your throat and put the files away neatly on Nyla’s desk. You reach to grab for your bag, ready to get out for the night, the overwhelming sensation to cry hitting you. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Oh,” Angela parts her lips. “I can walk you out—“

“No,” You clench your jaw, putting your walls back up. “I’ve got it.”

“Well doesn’t Lucy normally drive you—“

“I said I’ve got it.”

Tuesday

Lucy was devastated to find out about the small fight that took place between you and Angela last night.

She found out when she found you with your comfort movie on and a pint of ice cream in hand.

She was able to get what happened out of you easily, and immediately messaged Nyla with the news.

They were hoping yesterday would be enough, but apparently not.

You were relieved to find out you’d be riding with Nyla the next morning in roll call. You were interested in becoming a detective, so it worked out for you.

Only, it wasn’t going so great now that you were cornered by two men.

Nyla had been tied to a chair back further into the room, and you were being cornered close to the top of the stairs.

You called for backup about five minutes ago, and you prayed Lucy or anyone else would hurry to your location because you wouldn’t be able to hold out two men for more than a few minutes.

Next thing you know, Nyla is yelling something that sounds like a, “Watch out!”, and you’re tumbling down the stairs.

Your vision goes blurry and your head is pounding. You feel like throwing up and you have a pain in your ankle.

Thankfully, you’re put out of your misery when you pass out.

You wake up in the hospital, a doctor shining a light in your eyes.

As you thought, Lucy was there by your side when you woke up, which was a relief.

You’d gotten a bad concussion from hitting your head off the floor after tumbling down the steps, as well as a sprained ankle.

Lucy dropped you at home, which is where you spent the rest of your night—alone.

At least you did until Angela came knocking on your door.

“Oh,” You let out a sharp breath when finding the woman at the other end of the door.

“Hey, I heard what happened,” Angela steps into your apartment without even asking, concern written all over her face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You say as her hand touches the bruise that formed on the side of your face from the fall.

Her hand is cool on your face, and even though the bruise hurts to the touch, you hold her hand there.

“Does it hurt?” She lightly moves her hand from the side of your face, and softly grips your chin, turning your head so she can see your bruise.

“Keep your hand there,” You dodge her question, grabbing her hand that’s not on your chin, and place it back on the side of your face. “Your hands cold. Feels good.”

Wednesday

You were placed on desk duty for the rest of the week. Just great.

It tampered with Nyla and Lucy’s plan, but it’s nothing they couldn’t handle.

Lucy stayed back today, but kept her distance from you and Angela. The two of you were in the same seats at Monday. Sat across from each other.

You could feel Angela watching over you as the day went by.

Lucy ate lunch with you and asked how Angela was but you did your usual show when someone asked about her.

You looked down, hid your blush, shrugged your shoulders and muttered an “I don’t know.”

Later into the shift, you had gotten up for coffee.

You and Angela stayed back a bit late to finish the case you were on. You were so close, you could feel it.

But that also meant Lucy and Nyla were at home, as well as the rest of the day shift.

They were at home conspiring against the two of you as you make your coffee.

Angela followed you into the break room, and good thing she did, because your ankle decided to give out three seconds later.

Angela speeds to catch you just in time, you falling back into her arms. You swallow nervously, your faces awfully close.

All you could see were her sparkling brown eyes, and her kissable lips.

But you beat yourself down for even thinking about that. So when she leaned in a fraction, you cleared your throat and stood up.

“Sorry about that,” You scratched the back of your neck.

“You should really be more careful,” Angela tries to play it off as if she didn’t just try to kiss you and got rejected.

“I know,” You chuckle awkwardly.

“Was it your ankle?” Angela frowns.

“Yeah, it’s been bothering me,” You shrug. “I should stay off it.”

“Damn right you should,” Angela said sternly. “From now on I’m confining you to Nyla’s desk.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Fine by me.”

“Okay.. so go sit down,” Angela raises her brows. “You think I’m joking? I’m not. Go sit. I’ll bring you your coffee.”

Smirking, and watching you leave the room, she does just as she says.

Thursday

Today would be an exciting one.

You were with Nyla again, and Lucy was with Angela.

But since Angela forced you on desk duty, you and Nyla would be hanging back at the station.

The fun part is how all Nyla’s been talking about is Angela.

Nyla had somehow found out about your almost kiss with Angela last night, and yet she hadn’t asked about why you’d pulled back, you had a feeling she would soon.

“You know she broke things off with Wesley?” Nyla looked up, smiling at you.

“Yeah. I mean, she was thinking about it,” You try not to get too hung up on the question, trying to figure something out for Nolan, but coming up with nothing due to your mind being on the Lopez woman. “But why?”

“You really want to know?” Nyla leans on the desk, her hands intertwined together on top of the surface.

“Will you actually tell me?” You sit up excitedly.

“It was because of you.”

That caught you off guard. Why would she say something like that?

“That’s not funny,” You start blinking repeatedly.

“I’m not laughing, am I?” Nyla gave you her serious face.

“But why would she do that?” You asked yourself, and ended up with an answer from Nyla.

“Because she likes you.”

You scoff.

“What, me?” You’re taken aback at the seriousness of Nyla’s tone and face. “No. I’m just a patrol officer. And she’s a detective. She could have anyone. And she wants me? Are you sure?”

“Positive. You’re all she talks about.”

“You’re all she talks about,” Lucy looked over to look at Angela who had her thinking face on.

Angela had Lucy driving today, because she felt like sitting back today, rather than dealing with assholes on the road.

“I don’t buy it,” Angela shrugged. “I would know. I mean, I’m a detective.”

“You know, that’s exactly what Nyla and I thought.”

“What— Nyla?” Angela turns her whole body. “She’s in on it?”

“Well, I mean—“

“Are you sure? I’ve liked her since, well, I don’t know..”

“Since your first day training her? Yeah, her too,” Lucy was jittery, excited for their plan to finally come together. Even after having to go to plan D.

“Well, what do you think I should do?” Angela bites her nail nervously. “Should I ask her out?”

“Of course you should!” Lucy is basically bouncing in her seat, she can only imagine how you feel.

“Tonight?”

“Yes!” But then Lucy remembers tonight in the night your show comes on, and you almost never miss it. “Oh, no, wait, no.. here’s the thing. Thursdays are not so good, you see.”

“Her show?”

Lucy is surprised by her words, but it just points out the obvious fact that the two of you like each other.

“Yeah, yeah, how did you know that?” Lucy shakes her head.

“It’s all she talks about on Fridays, so I have no choice but to assume it comes on on Thursday nights.”

“You know what you should do? Bring her takeout! Yes, I’m going out with a friend tonight, so it works out perfectly,” Lucy beams. “You know her favorite place?”

“Of course,” Angela rolls her eyes. “I know it by heart.”

“So it’s a date.”

“Whatever,” She shrugs it off, but is secretly planning out her outfit.

A knock at the door later that night has you bouncing on your toes.

Lucy had hinted at how her conversation went with Angela earlier in the day, but wouldn’t tell you how it went.

When you open your door there she is, looking gorgeous as always, your favorite takeout in her hand.

You smile widely, trying your best not to check her out, but fail.

“You gonna invite me in, or what? Your shows coming back on,” She jerks her head in the direction of you and Lucy’s huge TV.

“Oh, come in,” She shreds off her coat, placing it on the hanger by the door.

She was wearing a black tank, which you weren’t complaining about, as well as jeans that complimented her perfectly.

When she catches you staring, you fake cough, and hide your face in the fridge, grabbing the both of you some water.

“How was desk duty?”

“As well as it should be,” You shrugged.

“Speaking of, you should be sitting,” She pushes you towards the couch, a smile across her face. “Go sit. I’ll bring you some.”

You talk as you eat, and learn that Angela doesn’t know anything about this show, besides what you’ve told her. So you pause the show, and you spend the next hour and a half explaining the show.

At this point, she isn’t even paying attention to what you’re saying, she’s just watching your mouth and the column of your throat move as you talk.

“Angelaaa you aren’t even listening. How are you going to understand what’s happening?”

“I am listening, and it’s very interesting,” Angela tries to lie her way out.

“What did I just say?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then what do you know?” You squint at her.

“That I want to kiss you.”

You hadn’t realized that there was only about an inch or two between your faces.

This time, when Angela leans in, you don’t stop her. You let her grip the sides of your neck, her thumbs rubbing across your neck.

You wrap your arm around her neck, moving yourself closer, all but on her lap. You begin running your hands through her hair.

You pull slightly, making the woman groan, which gives you access to her mouth.

It would have gone farther, had Lucy and Nyla not chosen that second to walk in.

“Oh! I guess our plan worked,” Lucy turns her head as you scramble off Angela.

“I guess it did,” Nyla smiled. “We’ve got moves.”

“Yeah, yeah we do,” Lucy nodded, sticking her fist out for Nyla, who bumps it.

#the rookie x reader #the rookie #angela lopez #angela lopez x reader #las angeles #lucy chen x reader #lucy chen #nyla harper x reader #nyla harper #wlw post #🖇️ anon

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