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heauxvibez · 2 months

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Punishment Jar

Warning: Smut (+18)

"You know the routine. Go ahead and pick one out of the jar, my love."

Roman reclined comfortably in the coffee-colored loveseat that seamlessly blended with the soft, nude aesthetic of their bedroom. His soft curls were slicked back into a neat ponytail and he sported a clean white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. His gaze, heavy with the lingering effects of the Hennessey, commanded attention effortlessly. With one elbow resting casually on the arm of the seat, he stroked the small tuft of hair under his bottom lip.

Standing before him, the naked woman's bottom lip jutted out slightly, a subtle display of anticipation. Her hands remained clasped behind her back, while her crossed thick thighs betrayed her desire, as if she were attempting to keep her juices from spilling onto their freshly polished wooden floors. She was irresistible.

"Now," Roman's voice growled sternly, causing the woman to jump at the sudden intensity.

Angel whimpered softly, a plethora of emotions coursing through her—excitement, nervousness, arousal, and a hint of fear. With small steps, she made her way toward the dresser on his side of the bed, where the punishment jar lay in wait. Her fingers grazed the cool glass surface as she eyed the many popsicle sticks, each carrying the promise of a potential punishment. Her heart raced as she lifted the lid, prolonging her fate.

"In a minute, I'm going to make sure the punishment lasts as long as it's taking you to pick it out of the jar," Roman warned calmly, his tone carrying a weight that made her flinch.

Quickly, she delved into the jar, shuffling the sticks between her fingers.

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe...

Her hand closed around a red popsicle stick, and she chewed nervously on her bottom lip as she read the black ink etched onto the wood.

Ruined Orgasm.

Confusion flickered across her features. What did that mean?

Roman was the mastermind behind the punishment jar, each stick bearing a consequence of his choosing. Despite her uncertainty, Angel found herself drawn to the thrill of anticipation, sometimes even deliberately misbehaving for the promise of consequence.

"Now bring it to me," Roman demanded, and she obeyed, each step bringing her closer to what lay ahead.

With a trembling hand, she passed him the stick, their eyes locked in an unspoken exchange of desire and submission. He accepted it, his lips curling into a knowing smile as he contemplated how to wield his power over her tonight.

"Go lay on the bed, baby," Roman's voice softened, yet the command remained unmistakable. It was a gentle caress that carried the weight of absolute authority, compelling her compliance.

Before she knew it, Angel found herself lying on the cool sheets, the fabric a welcome contrast to the heat that radiated off her body.

Meanwhile, Roman rummaged in the dresser, he seemed determined, his jaw tightening as he searched. Angel couldn't help but wonder what he was going to do to her tonight. The anticipation coiled in her belly, heightening her arousal with each passing moment.

Closing her eyes, she imagined the possibilities, the thrill of the unknown sending shivers down her spine. The gentle breeze drifting through the window teased her hardened nipples, eliciting a soft moan from her lips.

"I'm coming, baby, don't worry," Roman's smirk cut through her thoughts, signaling his return. In his hands, he held two objects, recently acquired from an online purchase—a detail that didn't escape Angel's notice.

Excitement bubbled within her as Roman approached the bed, his gifts concealed behind his back. With a swift motion, he pushed her legs apart, exposing her to his hungry gaze.

"Fuck," Roman moaned softly, his gaze devouring her. Her pussy was glistening with anticipation, an invitation he couldn't resist. He placed his knee on the bed just slightly under her bottom and hovered over her.

Placing a soft kiss on her lips, he instructed, "Here," as he placed one of the items on her chest.

Angel's fingers brushed against the fabric of the blindfold. Though they had used it before, tonight promised a new level of intensity, ridding her of the comforting intimacy of eye contact.

She sighed while putting the blindfold on. Already, she could feel herself succumbing to the absence of sight.

Roman's lips trailed a path from her lips to her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses in their wake. With each touch, he stoked the fire within her, rendering her eager for his touch.

"You know you really pissed me off tonight, right?" Roman's voice whispered against her ear. His tongue traced delicate patterns along her skin.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice a barely audible whisper.

Suddenly, a buzzing sound filled the air, and Angel knew immediately what it was—a vibrator. Roman was no longer hovering above her, opting instead to prop himself up on his knee as he teased her with the toy.

Placing the vibrator against her neck, where his lips had just lingered, he elicited a gasp from her lips. He traced a path down her body, exploring every inch of her with the relentless hum of the vibrator.

Her skin erupted in goosebumps as he circled her nipples, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout her body. She arched against him, desperate for more, her body aching with need.

"It's like you continue to do this shit to me on purpose," Roman murmured, his voice thick with desire. He teased her mercilessly, his touch driving her to the brink of madness.

As he moved the vibrator across her chest, Angel writhed beneath him, her arousal reaching dizzying heights. With each caress, she felt herself unraveling, her need for release growing more urgent with each passing moment.

"You know the one thing I don't play about is disrespect. And your mouth is beginning to get a little too smart for me, baby girl," Roman's voice held a warning, laced with promise as he continued to toy with her.

Angel felt the vibrations of the vibrator travel from her chest and slowly creep down to her navel. Roman looked up and watched as her tongue darted between her pretty lips. It gave him small flashbacks of having her lips wrapped around him. Those flashbacks were quickly cut short by the words that left those lips he fantasized about.

"I'm sorry," she moaned, rolling her hips up in hope of feeling the vibrator against her aching clit.

"Aht, don't do that. That's just going to make me more upset."

With a sigh of frustration, Angel forced herself to stillness, her movements restrained by the weight of Roman's command. Beneath the blindfold, she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to comply with his wishes, no matter how difficult it may be.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, the words a soft plea for forgiveness, mingled with a longing for the release that remained just out of reach.

But Roman remained unmoved, his gaze fixed on her with heavy intensity. In that moment, Angel realized that their game had shifted, the lines between pleasure and punishment blurring into a tantalizing dance of dominance and submission.

And as Roman continued to toy with her, Angel surrendered herself to the torment.

Angel's breath hitched as the vibrator made its way toward her clit, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she prepared for the familiar surge of pleasure. Roman's eyes locked in on her as he observed her reaction.

As the vibrator approached her sensitive bud, Angel's legs instinctively tensed, a reflexive attempt to shield herself from the overwhelming sensation. But Roman, ever the enforcer of control, gently urged her to maintain her position, his touch both firm and reassuring.

"Roman," she moaned loudly, her voice a plea for release as the vibrator connected with her throbbing clit.

"Uhn uhn, this is what you wanted, now keep 'em open," he encouraged, his tone stern as he guided her legs back into position.

The sensation of the vibrator against her clit was almost unbearable. Roman's fingers were slick with her juices, and he couldn't resist the urge to taste her essence.

She strained against the restraints of the blindfold, desperate to witness his actions, but Roman's control over her was absolute. He licked her essence from his fingers, his eyes smoldering with desire as he savored her taste.

"Mmm, I could lick you off my fingers all day, baby," he teased.

Meanwhile, Roman continued to tease her with the vibrator, his movements precise and calculated as he brought her to the brink of ecstasy and back again.

His left hand held her thigh down, his thumb drawing soft circles against her skin, while his right hand worked between her folds, driving her to the edge of sanity with his skilled touch. She could feel herself teetering on the brink of orgasm, her body thrumming with need as Roman pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

"Tell daddy what's going on, talk to me, baby," Roman urged, his voice dripping with seduction.

But Angel could barely form coherent words, her mind clouded by the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. With a desperate cry, she surrendered to the pleasure, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave.

But just as she reached the peak of ecstasy, Roman abruptly pulled the vibrator away, leaving Angel trembling with frustration and desire. Usually Roman would guide her through her orgasm, talk her through it, help her ride it out. But this was nothing like that. As soon as she grazed the peak of her orgasm, he just left her to finish..without finishing.

He had ruined her orgasm.

With a frustrated groan, she tore off the blindfold, revealing a smug grin on Roman's face.

"Joe, what the actual fuck!" she exclaimed, her frustration boiling over as she crossed her arms over her chest.

But Roman only chuckled, his amusement evident in the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Now we're both upset, we can call it even,"

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Why does writing take sooooo long, Jeez!

Hope yall liked this!

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #romanreignsimagine #roman reigns smut #romanreignsoneshot #fanfiction #roman reigns x black reader

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wriothesleysgf · 4 months

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FOR IF I AM NOT YOURS , WHAT AM I ?

— k. nanami.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ about — november 1st, 2018.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes — huge spoilers, major character death/injury, grieving, angst/ hurt.

you wished you told him not to go. you wished he wasn't so good at quelling your fears. you wished it was you in his place.

everything was in ruins after the shibuya incident. nobody knew exactly who survived, but there wasn't a sorcerer who hadn't lost somebody close to them. you had been split up from nanami, having shared a sweet goodbye. with your rct skills being above average, you were assigned to stay in the backlines alongside shoko.

no matter how much you tried to prepare yourself, you had to push yourself to work endlessly despite being in shock. the horrors were endless, and you couldn't help but let out a sob when the barely-breathing body of one of the students that you care so deeply about got brought in. this was the precise reason that you were against jujutsu students qualifying for grades. they'd be put in such dangerous situations. thoughts about how young nanami had sobbed in your arms after his best friend's untimely death flashed through your mind. you had no choice but to put all of these emotions aside, and do everything you could to ensure that the young girl got another shot at life.

you stayed there way past when the sun rose. shoko tried to convince you to take a break but to no avail. considering how closely the two of you had worked, with her being a third year when you joined jujutsu high, you could usually read her. however, you were too focused to notice that there was something she had to tell you. it took shoko forcing a cup of hot tea into your hands to get you to take a few minutes out and try to calm down.

"have you heard from the others?" you ask immediately, your hands shaking slightly. "what time is it?"

"it's 2pm." shoko replies. she's struggling to make eye contact with you, not wanting to be the one to tell you. "i..."

"nanami." you state. "he said he'd come by as soon as he can... is there still bad traffic around the stations?"

shoko finally looks at you. you already appear broken. your eyes are wide and glossy and you're still shaky. the dark circles under your eyes are becoming more and more prominent. something tells her that you already know deep down.

she says your name in an uncharacteristically soft tone. you drop the mug of tea, letting it spill all over your jeans and the broken porcelain shatter as it hit the hard ground.

"n... no..." you whisper. shoko comes towards you, pulling you into her arms— a wise move, because your knees give out. "how... who... what happened..." you choke out between sobs.

she manages to manoeuvre you towards a small room where you can be alone. there, she explains all of the details that were relayed to her. a knock at the door interrupts her, and shoko stands to see who's there. akari nitta comes in, and sits by your side. a simple nod from the brunette tells her what she needs to know, and she wraps an arm around you.

"he... he saved me, you know? i don't know if it makes you feel any better, but when nobara and i were alone, he looked after us." she begins to ramble, something that nitta always did when she was nervous. "i'm so, so sorry. he's a good man." she doesn't have the heart to speak about him in the past tense.

"do... was he alone? did he go in alone? after seeing you?"

nitta shakes her head. "he went in alone to meet with zen'in's group." you nod.

"he also met up with fushiguro and itadori. itadori was with him when..." shoko adds.

"is yuji okay? he's seen too much already..." you worry. both women couldn't help but feel their hearts ache. despite your own pain, you were concerned about itadori— no wonder nanami had fallen in love with you.

shoko nods. "okkotsu and fushiguro are with him."

everything in the room is quiet as you process it all. you find yourself fidgeting with the ring on your left hand. after a few moments, you could have sworn it shone for a second. you looked up to see the source of the light, but were met with none. somehow such a small occurrence made you feel more at ease. it was almost as if nanami was sending you a reminder that he's here with you, even after death. you recall the feeling of his embrace, the feeling of him wiping your tears with the soft pad of his thumb. your kento always knew how to make the most devastating moments feel lighter... yet those all felt like nothing compared to this new heartbreak.

#♡｡ now tracking: landausgf ☆.ᐟ #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami drabbles #nanami angst #nanami kento angst

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tokkias · 1 year

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Can we get some Lucy and other guildmates (aside from team Natsu) headcannons? I'm curious on how lucy interacts with everyone

i've already done juvia and gajeel but here are some others!

levy

aside from natsu + happy, levy is lucy's best friend in the guild

they can and will just read together for hours at a time in silence and that is fun for them

when lucy needs a break from active jobs with her team, she and levy take on smaller jobs together

sometimes they like to take jobs out of town just to visit new bookshops and libraries

they also like to visit cafe's together

levy drinks her coffee black with a little bit of sugar but lucy can't drink anything but decaf with creamer and sweetener or else it's too much for her and levy tries so hard not to make fun of her for it

they have their own little book club together where they'll read the same book and discuss it together

levy always finishes days before lucy and nags her to get on it

no one likes playing scrabble with either of them because they kick everyone's asses

sometimes they'll play in the guild and people will constantly be referring to freed (who is the only other person who can outplay them) to check if they are in fact, real words

lucy and juvia are the twins godmothers <3

mirajane

lucy can never tell when mira is joking about anything

mira in turn loves how gullible lucy can be

mira knows everyone's shit and lucy is nosy. with a little bit of coaxing mira can be convinced to spill anything

lucy has learned this lesson and no longer tells mira anything that she wouldn't be embarrassed for anyone else in the guild to know

early on when she joined the guild, lucy learned a lot of general life advice from mira because she was still really inexperienced at living a normal life on her own

mira has always been in charge of the strauss's finances so she's great with money and knows lots of little life hacks on how to cut corners and save money which proves invaluable to lucy not just when she moves to magnolia, but whole years after she's been living on her own

cana

cana is always appalled by lucy's lack of alcohol tolerance

there was a long period of time where cana would offer lucy a drink and lucy would always decline because she knew she'd get fucked up

the one time she does accept is when cana realises that lucy can do two, maybe three drinks before she's out of her mind

cana is second to natsu in amount of blackmail material on lucy because she's an open book when she's dunk

lucy's always looking for things for the two of them to do together that doesn't involve drinking because cana always out drinks her so it's just lucy getting blackout drunk while cana maybe gets tipsy

they both like playing card games and lucy has a big collection of card games because she plays them with her team on long jobs

cana's still competitive but not as much as natsu, gray and erza so it's a nice change of pace for lucy

lucy actually gets kind of embarrassed because she is the wildly competitive one of the two of them because she's so used to playing with other insanely competitive people

this is exacerbated by the fact that cana is just naturally really good at a lot of card games so she beats lucy a lot

they're banned from at least three casinos in fiore because cana is really skilled and lucy is really lucky which just makes it look like they're both cheating

lisanna

natsu lives in fear of this duo because between the two of them they know every embarrassing thing he's ever done

lisanna has ruined every story of natsu being cool from before lucy joined the guild by adding in all the embarrassing details natsu left out

on the contrary, they are happy's favourite duo

sometimes they'll go out for lunch together with happy and just dote on him and he's like yeah this is the best ever

lucy once mentioned that one day she thinks she might want to cut her hair short and lisanna has never let that go, she thinks she would be so cute with short hair

similarly, lucy thinks that lisanna would look really pretty if she grew her hair out

bisca

natsu and lucy are bisca's go to babysitters because asuka loves natsu and he's great with her, but she also trusts lucy to keep the both of them in check

bisca isn't a great cook and has trouble getting asuka to eat the food that she cooks but asuka loves lucy's cooking so she always asks lucy for tips

lucy's not certain if asuka actually likes her food or just eats it because natsu does and she adores natsu more than anyone

sometimes lucy will stay after alzack and bisca get back and asuka is put to bed, and she and bisca will get wine drunk together

#lucy heartfilia #levy mcgarden #mirajane strauss #cana alberona #lisanna strauss #bisca connell #headcanons #mya's mumbles #sorry this took so long!#it's been sitting in my drafts forever

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alieinthemorning · 7 months

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Fleeting Adolescence [Gojo Satoru]

Content: Major Character Death, Angst, AU: No Curses, Blood and Injury, JJK 237 Spoliers

Pronouns: None

Previous: An Addition to Change

Header: @/nikki101pistar on Twitter

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don't forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work's concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Flashing red and waving navy blue faded into the background as your gaze fell onto something shinning amongst it all.

You approached it, wading through navy bodies and hands that shot out to stop you. You would not be halted, you would reach your destination.

Black hair, that usually shot out in every direction, spilled flatly against the pale forehead, soaked by the onslaught of rain. Usually vibrant violet eyes were now dull and stared beyond you. His usual dark ensemble of clothing was stained darker.

You kneeled down, reaching your hands out, and gently brought his head into your lap. You wanted to say something. There were so many things that you wanted to say, but every time you tried to say something, your brain stopped you. So you simply sat and stared into those once familiar violet eyes.

You don't know how long you sat there, but eventually someone rested their hand on your shoulder.

"Satoru." You whispered, pausing before looking up at him. "Where did I go wrong?"

You don't know what kind of expression you were making, but it was enough for his jaw to drop and to take a stumble away from you.

Your gaze fell back into the violet.

Megumi was having a rough adolescence. You would consistently get calls from his school, detailing you about his latest fight and that he would be staying late as punishment. You simply apologized. There was no need to say that he wouldn't do it again, because you knew that he would do it again. No need to make an ass of yourself.

You would wait for him to get home and confront him over dinner.

His answer was always the same: "I'm just doing what's right."

But was it really right when he was cracking jaws with his knuckles?

You decided to have Satoru try his hand at calming him, but that only seemed to aggravate him. Suddenly he wasn't just beating up bullies and instead kids who "bothered him". He wasn't staying to himself anymore, and instead he began hanging around some upper classmen named Sukuna. He came home later and later, bloody and bruised.

You had your suspicions, and they were confirmed when you stumbled upon Sukuna and his...friends while running errands. His friends called him by name, and you quickly glanced in his direction. You didn't need to stare because the arm and face tattoos were enough.

Sukuna was a gang leader,

and Megumi was a part of that gang.

You and Satoru's attempts to help guide him away from Sukuna's gang only lead him further and further away from you and closer and closer to ruin.

You only wish you could have known just how deep ruin was for your dear Megumi.

"Satoru, where did I go wrong?"

One sentence that haunted him since it came from your mouth.

And when he looked at you.

You were crying, but your face was as blank as your gaze. Reminiscent of the violet ones that lay in the lifeless body in your lap.

He knew.

His worse fears had been realized.

Gojo Satoru was in fact not the strongest in the world. He was not a god who walked amongst men. He was human, he would die, and the world would move on without him.

Kuroo, one of the two dire wolves Megumi left behind, brushed up against him, whining softly.

He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he screwed his eyes shut.

"Is this how you felt, Suguru?"

There was a lot of present/past tense errors in here lol. A small bit of grammatical errors. And I changed a few things. Added the dogs into this (forgot I added them in the previous part).

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

#alie ficlets #alie ficlets: version 2 #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #fushiguro megumi & reader

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swamp-gremlin · 2 months

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My Old Nick hc's, interpretation, analysis, and other odd bits PT.2

Part 1

I really did not expect to have this much to say about him but I'm also not surprised

Read the previous part because I'll be building off the first one here

Only TW is broken bones and lightish body horror but then again its just kinda bleak

Playing off the hc that Nick its literally just slowly rotting away, thats why i typically draw him with like frost bite wounds, and for a reason why his physical condition fluctuates every time i draw him is that his physical condition and power is directly related to how popular/ feared/ believed in (yes i am aware of the irony of having his power be tied to popularity considering that no-one besides me and like 2 other people give a shit about him, i think its funny)

I'll flesh the whole popularity=power thing later as per usual

Nick is physically very weak and frail and if it weren't for his magic coughing on him could probably kill him tbh

His bones are just disturbingly frail and I imagine as a bit of a twist on like the question of "how would Santa get in if you didn't have a chimney?" And I was like what if Nicks just broke his own bones to get into places, like horribly twisting and and breaking his body to get to you (Kinda played around with this idea in Kidnapping PSA, but would love to go harder with it in the future)

Nick is also severely underweight for his height of 7ft, and not for his own doing he just can't put on much weight. He hates how skinny and physically weak he is without magic.

His clothes work to make him look much larger and imposing than he is, like how prey a animals stance up to make themselves scarier to predators

He has an abnormally low body temperature, he is physically cold to the touch, he's very temperature sensitive and will pass out if it goes above 60°

You just know his skins dry as hell....

Imperceptibly shivers, very minor and you can't really see it if he's moving around but if he's just sitting down reading you can see it; he really hates it because it makes doing anything with very fine detail very hard

Cannot image Nick many- if any friends

and his ex-husband doesn't count, like he might have business partners but those aren't people you see outside of a meeting or a business dinner. Like the only person who really tolerates him like that is Merasmus.

There divorce was honestly pretty amicable, don't mean Nick doesn't regret it, because i don't think he's gonna find another person who tolerates him like that again

He's probably like super lonely but will never ever emit to that, but like with most things you can tell...

Nick does not shut the fuck up- like at all. He will have nothing to say, but he sure will just keep saying words.

Very much overshares like so often, you could just be taking his order at the register and he will be on about how much he misses his ex for like 30 minutes and you just have to awkwardly cut him off and ask if he wants ketchup or not

Oh speaking of ordering food, Nick totally heckles any poor waiter or cashier that have the misfortune of encountering him. He wants to speak to your manger right now.

He is just so inconceivably petty... The slightest disrespect to him and he's doing some ludicrous shit to you. Scuff his shoes? he's signing you up for the military. Spill your drink on him? He's ruining your credit score.

I image the lay out and construction of his mansion is just strange, a majority of it is under ground to avoid the arctic winds and prevent damage. But the internal lay out is this Winchester like maze, halls that lead to nothing, tall narrow stares into darkness, no windows, empty useless rooms that no-one has entered in over century- maybe even forgotten. I think even he gets lost some times, know one really knows why he just keeps building and adding on, but he keeps just doing it.

Someone smarter than me can probably write up some dissertation/ comparison about how Sarah Winchester kept building out of guilt and fear of the spirits of the people who where killed by her family's weapons.

He can play piano quite well but he just hasn't played in a while...

He has the vibe of that horribly toxic theater kid you knew from high-school who makes that time they got lead role in a play there whole personality

Gets super red in the face for like any reason, angry? red. embarrassed? red. Bashful? red. Drunk? red. its so funny and he probably gets so embarrassed about it

Im going to assume you read through this and the first part so thank you for reading my stupid ramblings, here have this as a reward.

-> Playlist

have some old silly doodles i don't think ive posted here

#art #doodle #sketch #tf2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 fanart #tf2 old nick #old nick tf2

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kmp78 · 11 months

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I wish one of his conquests would be feisty enough and be like: Fuck it! That hysterical control freak can't hold me back. I'm almost certain he wouldn't go through with suing. TMZ and co would be on that lawsuit like 🪰 on a pile of cow 💩. He would rather put his head in the sand and pretend no indecent or juicy detail got spilled by one of his playthings than have his private shenanigans dissected in the court of law. He's simply relying on the power gradient of him being a multi-million dollar Hollywood actor/celeb and them being 'nobodies' without the financial means to countersue. It's manipulation and abuse of power trusting that the threat alone will be enough to keep them quiet for fear of not being believed, shamed, harassed by his fans/press, victimized as a golddigger/famewhore and on top financially ruined. He's a sad creature having to resort to such tactics, and it surely raises the question of what he so desperately tries to hide. Very likely not just his oh so quiet and simple private life. And yes I also have sympathy for celebs wanting to protect their privacy and not being dragged through the mud by an ex-partner for financial benefit. Just look at Jonah Hill and his scorn ex.

Just the mere fact he whips out a contract and a pen before dropping his pants is just too cringe to comprehend... 😂🫣

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 3 years

Text

You're Here Now | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has always been paranoid that his past with Hydra will come back to bite him, but he's not the one who gets bitten

Warnings: torture/violence against reader, blood, knives, strangulation, pet names, lil bit of fluff :)

Word Count: 4.4k

—————————

“Do I haaaave to wear a tie?" Bucky groaned as he plopped down on the bed. "I'm already wearing a suit, is the tie really necessary?"

You laughed at his dramatics. This was Bucky Barnes, the man who fell from a train, had his arm ripped off, and was captured, tortured for years...and here he was complaining about wearing a tie.

"Yes, you haaaave to wear a tie", you said, “gotta make a good impression”. You took it from his hands and did your very best to fix it for him. There’d been a time back in his youth when Bucky could tie a tie without even looking, but the skill didn’t survive Hydra’s brainwashing.

"Are you nervous?" you asked, looking up from your attempt at a Windsor knot. He shook his head slightly and looked away, trying and failing to hide his anxiety. He fiddled with his dog tags, clinking them against his metal fingers one after the other- a nervous habit you’d come to recognize.

Today was the day, the final step before his pardon became official. He had to meet with the National Security Council and give them everything he had on Hydra- everything he could remember, that is.

You finished with his tie and took his hands, squeezing them gently to stop their anxious movements. But the nervous energy still had them shaking.

"You have no reason to be nervous, babe. Just be honest with them. You’re not the bad guy here…

"I know, I just don't want to fuck it up".

"Buck, you're not gonna to fuck it up. Tell them what you know and you're home free...and then we can celebrate" a mischievous grin stretched across your face as you climbed into his lap and straddled his hips. "Mmm, I think I like you in a tie", tugged on the knot, bringing his face close to yours.

“You’re trouble, doll. You know that?"

The moment your lips met his, all was well. For just a second, the fog of anxiety and dread cleared He got lost in the feel of your body on his, the softness of your lips, and the smell of your hair.

Unfortunately, a text from Happy Hogan ruined the moment: "Ready when you are", He groaned and let his head fall forward until it rested on your sternum.

"Fuuuuuuuuck" he whispered against your skin, "I gotta go, sweets". With one more kiss, Bucky loved you from his lap and set you gently on the bed.

You let out a whine, "You sure I can't come with you today, Buck?"

"I'm sure. Security clearance, remember?"

“Yeah, cause I’m just soooo dangerous”

Bucky would’ve loved to have you there with him. Your presence grounded him, kept him from spiraling. Without you there, he feared he’d suffocate under the weight of what Hydra did to him. Recounting all of it- every detail of his experience as their prisoner- just to gain a partner had him wanting to go on the run again.

The two of you walked hand in hand to the front door of the apartment you shared. He couldn’t dodge your last minute checks of his hair and suit jacket, but appreciated you all the same.

"Go get 'em, Barnes. Go spill all those Hydra secrets", you cheered, giving him a little smack on the ass.

He rolled his eyes and pulling you in for a kiss, laughing as his lips met yours. "Alright, this shouldn't take more than a few hours. I'll call you on the way home. Okay, doll?" he cupped your face in his large hands and kissed you on the forehead.

"I'll see ya then, babe" you nodded. He undid the deadbolt, and opened the door before turning back to you with a serious expression on his face.

"Lock the door behind me, please". You rolled your eyes at this reminder and gave him a thumbs up before he turned around and headed down the hall.

Bucky was always reminding you to lock the front door, but you always forgot. It wasn't your fault that you grew up in a small town where no one locked their doors. To you, deadbolting the door felt like hypervigilence. It simply wasn't second nature, and part of your thought it was maybe a tad bit dramatic.

"It's just for your safety, baby", he always said. He would get frustrated with you sometimes when you forgot, but you knew it came from a good place. After what he’d been through, Bucky knew the value of security. He just wanted to protect you and keep you safe, but it didn't stop you from forgetting to lock the door half the time, including today.

You glanced down at your phone. It was 9:30am, and Bucky's meeting was at 10:30. You figured it would take three hours at the very least, so you had some time to kill. It was a beautiful autumn Saturday, so of course you wanted to go for a run. Bucky didn't like when you went running by yourself. He was convinced that someone who held a grudge against him was going to pull you into a windowless creeper van or something. He always went running with you- always. And you had to admit that you enjoyed running with Bucky. He was so goddamn fast that it pushed you to be better, and seeing him all sweaty afterward was definitely a bonus.

"What Bucky doesn't know won't kill him," you thought to yourself as you made your way to the bedroom to change. Getting your running playlist queued up, you put in your headphones and headed out. "Fuck- the door" you cringed as you remembered that you'd left it unlocked. But you were already in the elevator and didn't feel like going all the way back upstairs to lock it. "It'll be fine, I'll be back before Bucky gets home".

...

And you were. You'd done a quick three miles in the park and felt great. You opened the front door and beelined it for the kitchen in desperate need of a glass of water. Chugging the ice cold water, you looked around your quiet apartment. Ditching your headphones, you took a moment to appreciate the home you shared with Bucky. You loved living here with him. It wasn't a huge place, but it was plenty of space for the two of you- and you'd worked really hard to make it comfortable for him. He deserved a safe place.

That's when you heard it- the creak of a floorboard. There was one spot in the hallway near your bedroom that always creaked when someone stepped on it. You couldn't see down the hallway from where you stood in the kitchen, and even if you wanted to go look, you couldn't. You were frozen.

"Relax!" you thought to yourself. "Bucky's paranoia is getting to you".

But you were wrong. Suddenly a man grabbed you from behind and covered your mouth with his gloved hand. You dropped your water glass and watched it shatter on the floor, sending shards of glass shooting across the ground. The assailant dragged you toward the front door, but you weren’t giving up without a fight.

Bucky had taught you a few lesson in self-defense moves, and you did your best to pull them out of the back of your brain. By some stroke of luck, you broke free from your captor- but you only made it a few steps before he had you by the ankle. You fell to the ground, the broken glass carving into your hands. The man's masked face hovered above yours and you made one last effort to take him down, but it was futile. Suddenly, everything went black.

...

Waking up in a small concrete room, you tried to make sense of your surroundings. Stiff plastic ties held your hands in place behind your chair, and you were certain a few pieces of glass still lay beneath your skin. A nightmarish pounding in your skull far surpassed any migraine you'd ever had, making it almost impossible to think. Sticky dried blood crusted on the side of your face and the sharp ringing in your ear refused to relent.

"Hey, welcome back to the land of the living," a familiar voice quipped. Your head snapped in the direction of the voice and your eyes met with those of ex- SHIELD agent Brock Rumlowe. You'd seen him at countless Stark parties and around the S.H.I.E.L.D. office, and never would've thought he was a Hydra operative- but that was kind of the point.

A gag prevented you from speaking, muffling any attempt you made at communication. "Oh, sorry about that, darlin'," Rumlowe said as he casually made his way over and pulled the gag from your mouth. "There ya go".

"What the fuck, Rumlowe? What's your fucking problem?!"

He did not like this.

Rumlowe gripped you by the throat as he stared down at you with hate in his eyes. "Don't you give me any fucking attitude, I'll fucking kill you right now". He squeezed tighter and tighter until a sickly blue color tinged your lips. Rumlowe released your windpipe, laughing as you struggled and gasped. "Wanna try that again, princess?"

Still out of breath, you changed tactics. Brock’s bruising grip sent a deep ache through your throat, forcing you yo whisper. “Why are you doing this to me?"

You kept your eyes down and tried to avoid making him feel disrespected, knowing what would happen if you did otherwise. Rumlowe laughed once again, dragging a metal chair across the room and positioning it in front of you. He took a seat and looked at you with an amused expression on his face. He was having a great fucking time.

"Let me tell ya, babe," he said, ignoring your question. "I've been following you for quite a while, and I knew you were attractive from afar, but up close? Damn. Barnes bagged a hot one". He reached out and stroked your face with his rough hands, your dried blood still staining his fingers. With a sharp jerk, you pulled your cheek from his hand- and that was a mistake. He hit you again, this time spitting your lip and sending blood spilling into your mouth.

"Attitude, babe. You gotta watch that attitude of yours". He chuckled and dragged his hand along your thigh- it took everything in you not to pull away. "To answer your question, sweetheart, we're not technically doing this to you. You're a means to an end, unfortunately." Either he wasn't explaining things clearly or you were still dazed from the hit you'd taken to the face.

Rumlowe looked into your eyes and clocked your confusion. He gave a sigh and rolled his eyes, “You're hot but dumb, aren't you? Right now, your bionic man is meeting with the National Security Council. He's trading Hydra intel for his pardon from the United States government. So we figured we'd make a trade of our own: for every secret he shares, we hurt you. He stops giving intel, we stop brutalizing his hot piece of ass. I, personally, think it's very fair."

You opened your mouth, but Rumlow stopped you from speaking. "Hold that thought a sec," he said, holding a finger up. He answered his phone and listened for a moment before hanging up and giving you a big smile. "Looks like they're taking a break now that their first questions are finished- so let's make a call to Barnes, shall we?". He pulled your phone out of his pocket and scrolled through your contacts until he found Bucky's name.

"Awww," he teased, "look at the little heart emoji by his name. Isn't that so sweet?" He pressed call and waited for Bucky to answer.

//////////

Bucky felt like he was an ant under a magnifying glass. "If those were just the introductory questions, what the hell are the real questions going to be like?" he thought. He turned around and saw Sam and Nat sitting in the observation area. Having them there, was nice- but they were nothing compared to what it would've been like if you'd been allowed to attend.

He was thankful for this fifteen minute break to regroup and get his head straight. He couldn’t fuck this up- too much was stake. His phone started vibrating and he pulled it out of his pocket, smiling when he saw your name.

"Hey, doll. Perfect timing," he said, relieved. He waited for a response, but heard nothing. "Hello? Doll?"

"Bucky..." he heard you rasp.

"Baby? Are you okay?" but he didn't get an answer from you. All he heard was a familiar laugh on the other end. Rumlowe.

"Barnes! Long time, no talk!" Rumlowe exclaimed. "How's the meeting going?".

Bucky shot out of his seat and started making his way to Sam and Nat. "Rumlowe, what the fuck are you doing?" he spat into the phone.

"Listen, man. This isn't my fault. We were buds, remember! I was told to get you to shut the fuck up about Hydra by any means necessary, so these are the means I chose! I got your hot little piece over here and she's not doing so great." Bucky's phone buzzed as he received a picture. It was a dark, grainy image of you in a concrete room, attached to a chair. Blood smeared the side of your face and oozed from your mouth. A dark red ring around your throat looked angry, and a gash near your eyebrow leaked blood into your eye. A pit of rage and desperation instantly formed in his stomach, pulling him down into despair.

"I'm coming for you, Rumlowe,"

Bucky growled. Again, he heard a dubious laugh on the other end, "Are you sure about that, Barnes? Doesn't your pardon hinge on this meeting? If you don't give up your intel aren't you going to...federal prison?"

Bucky threw open the door to the observation room, rushing over to Sam and Nat. They didn’t like his wide eyes, the utter lack of warmth in his face. Something was wrong- something way bigger than the pardon.

"Make your choice, Barnes. For every detail you give about Hydra, I do something to her. We've got ears everywhere. Good luck"

The line disconnected and Bucky felt like the world crumbling beneath his feet. He instantly jumped to a thousand conclusions and possible solutions, his mind spinning with possibilities.

Sam's hand on his shoulder brought Bucky back to reality. "Bucky..? What's the deal, man? You look paler than usual."

"It-it's Rumlowe. He took herI have to go- I'm going to get her." Sam's hand still rested firmly on Bucky's shoulder, stopping him from escaping. "Back up, what?" Nat threw Sam a look, "Tell us everything you know".

Bucky quickly filled both of them in on the harrowing call he'd received. He hated every follow up question and clarification they threw his way- there was no time. Every extra second that passed was another moment for you in Rumlow’s clutches.

"There's no way I'm staying here,” Bucky said, “I have to-"

"Oh no, you're staying right here. You're staying right here and you're giving them everything you know. You're not giving up this pardon, Buck".

Bucky looked at Sam with desperation, "Did you not hear what I said? If I talk, they're going to hurt her. Everything I tell the council is another excuse for them to do something terrible- she could die, Sam.” Bucky's heart pounding against his ribs- why didn’t Sam understand?

"Barnes, we get it. But we can't let you leave. We can't let you go to prison," Nat said, “You don’t deserve that”.

Bucky felt like he was losing his mind, "Prison? Who fucking cares if I go to prison? I have more important things to worry about right now," he yelled as he once again started toward the door.

"Hey, hey, hey..." Sam called, "We'll go get her. You stay here and fulfill the terms of your pardon, and we'll go find your girl. How about that?"

Bucky turned to face Sam. He couldn't believe the things his friends were saying. They knew how much he loved you, how willing he was to trade his life for yours.

"Buck, trust us. We can do this for you," Nat rested a hand on his shoulder. "I promise we will get her out of there safely. You cannot leave this meeting". Desperation clouded her eyes. She knew all too well how hard it was to wipe a slate clean, and if Bucky had the chance, he needed to take it.

Bucky knew they meant well, but how was he supposed to focus on a meeting while you were in danger? How could he send his friends to save you instead of taking care of you himself? He couldn’t sit still and answer questions when your life hung in the balance.

"I'm calling in the whole team, man,” Sam promised. “We're gonna get everyone on this. I swear. You can trust us to bring her home safe."

Bucky stared at his friends, silently weighing the options. He needed to find you. He needed to hold you and protect you- but he’d never hold you again if he ended up in prison. “Okay, fine,” he muttered, “Go. Now.”

/////////

Rumlowe's conversation with Bucky left you feeling more distressed than you already were. You hoped he would stay at the meeting and fulfill the requirements of his pardon. You couldn't see him go to prison; he didn't deserve to suffer like that.

"Hey, you wanna take bets on what Barnes decides?", Rumlowe asked playfully. "I'm thinking...he's gonna ditch the meeting and come save his damsel in distress like the hero he is aaaaaaaand then he'll go to prison. What do you think, babe?" He looked at you with a delighted expression, waiting for you to take part in his little game. Silence filled the room as you declined to answer his stupid question, and you saw the rage building in his eyes.

You opened your mouth to speak, but it was too late. Rumlowe was in your face, holding the point of a knife to your chest. "Don't you know it's rude not to answer when someone asks you a question?" he said, taunting you with the sharp blade. He pressed it against your flesh ever so slightly, and that was all it took to break the skin. He dragged the point from your clavicle to your sternum. The sting of the sharp blade was flooded by a warm sensation as your blood trickled out of the fresh wound.

You winced at the pain and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. "Oh, honey, don't cry," Rumlowe teased. "It's just a-" he stopped when he heard a buzz. He grabbed his phone and read the message he'd just received. A huge, twisted smile crawled its way across his face and he let out a wild laugh.

"Oh, you'll NEVER believe this, princess. Barnes is talking!" Relief and terror flooded your body simultaneously. You were thrilled that Bucky wasn't going to be imprisoned for not talking to the Security Council, but you knew that that meant he wasn't coming for you. And every secret he divulged meant more pain for you. You took a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you were about to endure.

"Well, shit," Rumlowe exclaimed in disbelief. "I guess he doesn't care about you as much as I thought he did...maybe I'm torturing the wrong girl! Think he's got a side piece?" he asked with a deep laugh. His phone buzzed again and with that, a vicious cycle began.

Rumlowe's phone would buzz, he would see that Bucky had given up HYDRA intel, and you'd face Rumlowe's wrath.

Buzz. Arm burned with a lighter.

Buzz. Stab wound to the thigh.

Buzz. Strangled with a garrote.

Buzz. Hit with an electrified baton.

//////////

"Time couldn't be moving any fucking slower," Bucky thought. He hadn't heard anything from Nat, Sam, or anyone else on the team. Rumlowe hadn't sent him anything else. And the Security Council was taking their sweet fucking time with their questioning. Every time he thought it was over, they would come up with another question or ask him to elaborate on a past answer. Every piece of information he gave them caused the pit in his stomach to get bigger and deeper and darker. He was coming out of his skin and could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

All he wanted was to run out of the room and find you. He wanted to save you and keep you safe forever. He couldn't believe that he was in this stupid meeting while you were being held against your will. Bucky looked around at the Security Council. He scanned each member for any sign that they might be the one working for HYDRA and corresponding with Rumlowe, but his search came up empty.

He was going to kill Rumlowe. He was going to pull out every ounce of Winter Soldier training he'd receive and destroy Brock Rumlowe until there was nothing left of him.

Bucky's phone buzzed in his pocket. He knew he shouldn't look at it during the meeting but there was no way he was going to ignore it. He pulled it out just enough to see that Sam had texted him two words: "Got her".

Relief flooded his body knowing that Sam and the team had gotten you out of there. His relief was short lived as he wondered what condition you were in. His thoughts started racing and he began to spiral in despair. Sam hadn't said that you were okay or even alive. Why didn't he said 'she's okay' instead of 'got her'? Bucky thought. What if she didn't make it and Sam had recovered your body? What if-

His anxious thoughts were halted by someone speaking. "And with that," the head of the Security Council announced, "this meeting is adjourned. James Buchanan Barnes, you have fulfilled all agreed upon terms relating to your pardon from the United States Government. As of this moment, said pardon is official in the eyes of the court."

Bucky couldn't even celebrate or relish in the moment. He ran from the room and dialed Sam's number.

//////////

The abuse continued for what seemed like days. You felt like you'd been hit by a train. Every buzz from Rumlowe's phone made you flinch as you braced yourself for what was coming. He noticed your reaction to every buzz and lowered his face down to yours. "Oh, princess, don't worry. I'm sure they've only got a few...hundred more questions for Barnes," he joked.

You didn't know which action had knocked you unconscious. Was it your head hitting the concrete when Rumlowe basically threw you across the room? Or was it lack of oxygen from his hands gripping your neck and squeezing ever tighter? You weren't sure. But you were thankful for it. Coming in and out of consciousness was far better than being awake the entire time. At least you got little breaks from the torture this way.

You were confused when you heard the voices. Were they real? Or were you hallucinating? And if you were hallucinating, that couldn't be a good sign. "Am I dying?" you thought. You weren't scared of dying, but you were sad- sad for Bucky. You knew he'd feel like this was all his fault. He'd never forgive himself if you didn't make it through this alive. Hot tears filled your eyes. Goddamn, you loved Bucky so much. You realized that if you were in fact dying, you'd never see him again. And that was the scariest thought you'd had all day.

Rumlowe's head snapped in the direction of the voices, meaning they weren't hallucinations. They were definitely real and sounded familiar to you. "What the fuck is that?" Rumlowe groaned. He turned to face the metal door and before he could reach out for the handle it swung open.

You'd never been so happy to see Sam and Nat. They exploded through the door with a swarm of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in tow. In what seemed like seconds, Nat had Rumlowe on the floor with her foot on his back.

Sam sprinted over to you and freed you from your restraints. "Hey, hey, Y/N. Look at me" Sam whispered as he held your face in his hands. "H-hey, Sam" you croaked. "G-good to see ya". He chuckled and lifted you from your chair. "Let's get you out of here," he said as you drifted out of consciousness.

//////////

Bucky ran faster than he ever had before. He was scanning the numbers on the outside of each hospital room in search of yours. He turned the corner and spotted two guards standing outside a hospital room; that had to be yours.

The guards let him in and he saw you laying there in the bed. You were attached to a heart monitor and multiple IVs, and your small body was littered with dark bruises and more stitches than he'd ever seen. He was frozen in the doorway. He wanted nothing more than to go to you and be by your side, but he couldn't move. He was paralyzed. Seeing you in this state was the most painful thing he'd ever experienced.

You began to stir in your bed and it brought him back to reality. He moved swiftly to your bedside and took your hand. He couldn't believe that he hadn't been there for you when you needed him most. He had put you in danger just by being with you. He felt guilt coursing through his veins.

The only thing that stopped him from spiraling was your hand moving in his.

//////////

Your eyes fluttered open and the harsh fluorescent lights made them sting. Pain radiated through your body. Your head was pounding and every breath was agonizing. But then you saw Bucky.

He was sitting on your right side, holding your hand in his. You gave his fingers a weak squeeze and his head shot up. His deep blue eyes were red rimmed and you could tell he'd cried recently. He leaned down and gave you the gentlest kiss possible on the forehead.

"H-hey, doll," was all he could get out. There was clearly a lump in his throat that he couldn't speak over. You smiled and couldn't believe how good it felt to see him by your side. It took a few moments for you to get past the pain in your throat left behind by Rumlowe's grip. When you finally did you were able to whisper, "h-hey, Buck".

He smiled when he heard his name come out of your mouth. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours and taking in a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there," he murmured.

You raised one hand to the side of his face and stroked his stubble. "you're here now," you whispered.

464 notes · View notes

vampireoutofbusiness · 3 years

Text

Star Crossed Fuckers

NAVIGATION

Pairing: sub!peter x fem!reader + they're 18

Warnings: smut with some build-up, it's pretty clear when it starts. oral, m and f receiving, enjoy sub!peter

Request: Peter and you are best friends but both of you have always liked each other. One day somehow the line is crossed and you let your feelings all out. If possible ending in smut with subpeter 👉🏼👈🏼

Synopsis: You and Peter finally come to terms with the fact you're in love with each other and things get a little- passionately -heated

a/n: so I'm reposting this because it didn't get anywhere in terms of interaction. if it wasn't a request I'd prob delete it cuz I'm sensitive

Want to request something? Click Here

*Do not repost my work on any platform, reblogs are appreciated*

You weren’t sure about soulmates, but you thought you and Peter were something along those lines. Only spending time with each other all through high school meant you knew everything about each other. Yes, even that he was a crime-fighting spider by night. It’s kind of hard to hide that you grew 2 sizes and got perfect eyesight overnight from your best friend.

Everything about him, you loved. You never stopped thinking about that boy, no matter what you were doing, he was in your thoughts. There was doubt in your mind that you were in love with him. If only you knew how to tell him.

Meanwhile, Peter thought the world of you. He tried spending every waking second with you. No matter what you did with that time, he felt like the luckiest person in the world. He loved just being in your presence because, well, he’s in love with you.

You played with the idea of telling him how you felt and so did he. Both of you denied trying, in fear any part of your friendship could be ruined. Your love for each other was buried deep down. Or, at least, that kind of love. You know, like every single friends-to-lovers trope??

People often mistook you for a couple, even when Peter introduced you to the Avengers, they assumed you were dating. He talked about you all of the time and it made sense with your body language. The small touches you’d give him, linking your arms or even hands when you walked. He threw his arm around you when he got the courage, but you initiated most of it.

Physical touch was definitely his love language after he didn’t get much of it during his childhood. He happened to be the only person you actually enjoyed receiving it from and giving it to, and Peter noticed this. He silently celebrated you trusting him enough to let your guard down.

“So glad that shit is over,” you let out a deep breath, running your hands down your face as you fell onto the couch in your family's living room.

“Our grad party or high school?” Peter chuckled as he took a seat next to you.

“Both,”

“Can’t believe you made us do it,”

“Excuse me,” you turned your upper body to look at the boy beside you, “I think I remember you smiling every time I looked over at you,”

“Probably because you were looking at me,” he smiled and your eyes rolled back.

“Mhm, I’m sure you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me,” you winked before checking a notification from your phone.

Peter was thankful you became preoccupied because his cheeks were definitely bright red. Yes, yes he was staring at you the entire evening. You looked amazing and he was enamored with you.

“My parents went out for dinner so we have the place to ourselves,”

Finally, he spent all day around other people, getting barely any attention from you and now he got you all to himself.

“What should we do?” Peter questioned while resisting the urge to tell you that he wished he could go to dinner, romantically, with you.

“Oh-,” you clapped your hands, startling him, and got off of the couch, “I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere,”

And with that, you ran upstairs. Peter sat there, already missing your presence. You came back into the living room, something in your hand. Before Peter could ask, you jumped onto him and threw your arms over his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

He didn’t object, missing your affection. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer. It felt so good to be held by the person you’re in love with.

“Okay,” you pulled your head away from his neck and looked at him, a few tears pricking your eyes already, “I know how fucking corny it is, you don’t need to tell me,”

He nodded and you handed him a piece of paper. It read Certificate of Registration; Peanut.

“What’s this?” He asked, reading it over.

“I uh- I bought you a star and named it after you,” you flashed him a smile and started explaining how you went about it.

All Peter could hear was that the love of his life named something after him. And a star nonetheless. All he wanted to do was kiss you and tell you how much he loved you.

“And since we probably won’t-,” you wiped your eyes, Peter feeling his own tears collecting, “we won’t be able to see each other as often so I figured at night, we can look at the same stars still,”

Peter had the biggest grin on his face and you could see the creases around his eyes, your favorite expression of his.

“Honestly, I don’t even know if it’s in this area of the sky above New York and it’s not like it has a sign to say it’s yours but I wanted to get you something,” you told him, a laugh coming through your tears.

“I love it,” he pulled you back into a hug, squeezing tighter this time and his tears finally made it down his cheeks, “thank you so much, for everything,”

“Oh boy, you’re going to be the death of me, Peanut,” you kissed his shoulder and pulled back from him again.

Something came over you at that moment. You looked in his eyes and thought you saw the same thing going through him. He looked at you with so much love, every little detail about you was on his mind.

You leaned forward an inch or so, not sure if this was the right move. What if he rejects you and you ruin your destroy your friendship? Then again, you were going to different colleges and wouldn’t see each other in school. But you wanted him in your life forever.

Peter was internally screaming. You leaned in, did that mean you wanted to kiss him? He wasn’t really sure if that’s what you were going for, so he froze, silently wishing for you to kiss him.

“Peter?” You whispered with your face only a few inches from his.

“Y/n?” He glanced at your lips before making eye contact with you.

“I love you,” you kept your eyes on him, too scared to look away.

“As in-,”

“I am in love with you,”

Because what the hell, you couldn’t spend another second without knowing if he felt the same way. Peter was speechless, only replaying your words in his head over and over.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, a smile spreading across his face.

You brought your hands up to cup his cheeks and pulled him in, your lips connecting.

All of those feelings, every moment you both wanted to spill the kind of love you really had for each other, was put into this kiss. Peter never wanted it to end, you holding him close and being this intimate felt so natural after holding back for so long.

The minuscule touches you shared turned into so much more. Peter held your waist, which he’d touch before but now it had a whole new meaning. He didn’t want to go too far without knowing what you were comfortable with.

You sucked on his bottom lip before slowly pulling back, your eyes filled with lust.

“Wow,” he exhaled, fingers brushing your lower back.

“Yeah,” you placed a hand under his chin and smirked, “I really want to do it again,”

He eagerly nodded, beating you to it this time and pressing his lips to yours. It felt like you had done it so many times more than once before, yet still just as amazing and new.

After a few minutes of blatant making out, hair messed with, lips were swollen, shallow breathing filling the room, you cupped his cheeks again and barely took your lips off of his.

“Do you-” you ran your thumbs over his cheekbones and took a moment to catch your breath, “Do you wanna go to my room?”

His brown eyes went wide, the thought of that making his head spin.

“Yeah, if- if that’s what you want,” he leaned into your touch and scratched the back of his neck.

You knew he did that when he got nervous.

“You’re sure?” You tilted your head and took his hands in yours.

“Yes, definitely- I just,” he paused and leaned his forehead on your chest, “you’d be my first,”

You kissed the top of his head and ran your hands through his hair. It’s not like you didn’t know that. You spent all of your time together so you’d know if he had a girlfriend…or boyfriend.

“I don’t have condoms so we can’t do it, but we don’t have to do anything at all if you don’t feel comfortable,” you reassured him and he looked up at you through his eyelashes, “we can start in my room and go from there, okay?”

“Okay,”

You got off of him, took his hand, and led him to your room. Both of you had a stupid smile there was no way of wiping off your faces.

“Sit down,” you told him and he listened, sitting on your bed with his back against the headboard.

You shut your door and locked it before getting onto your bed with him.

“Is this okay?” You asked, straddling his waist.

“More than,” he brought his hands to your waist and you leaned down, connecting your lips once again.

God, you couldn’t believe you went this long without being able to kiss Peter Parker.

You rocked your hips back and forth, the friction making him moan against your lips. You kissed down his jaw and then down to the spot below his ear, his chest rising and falling quicker beneath you.

“I love you,” he told you as you sucked on the sweet spot, earning a whimper from him.

“I know,” you whispered in his ear, your voice low and rough.

Your lips found their way down his neckline and you gestured for him to sit up so you could take off his shirt and you did the same, both articles of clothing forgotten.

He leaned back, this time laying down and you kissed down his chest, biting every once in a while. Before you got to his waistband, he stopped you.

“Wait, can I do s- something for you?”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you smiled and got off of him.

You traded places and he hesitated when brushing his hand over the band of your pants.

“Go ahead,” you lifted your hips and he gently pulled your bottoms and underwear down your legs, the only piece of clothing left was your bra.

He eyed you hungrily, mouth slightly parted. But he just sat there, hands on his thighs with no idea what to do. He understood the basic task but a wave of nervousness washed over him.

“You don’t have to,” you saw how hesitant he was with a small frown on his face, “I’ll make sure you do a good job and I don’t expect to be perfect the first time you go down on someone”

“Okay, and tell me if you don’t like it, please?”

“Of course, but you'll do great, I'm sure,” you nodded and gave him an encouraging smile

He let out a deep sigh, leaning down, and started placing tender kisses down your inner thighs, your heart racing as he got closer to your bare center.

“Now run your tongue upward,”

He did as he was told, enjoying following your orders. His hands held onto your upper thighs as he continued to use his tongue, licking up and down your slit, until you gave him the next direction.

“Find my clit,” you smirked and threaded your hand through his hair, “Nope- yep,”

You arched your back off of the bed when he started sucking on it. His tongue felt so good and he loved seeing you like this, hair messy, heavy breathing, your hands pulling on his hair. He could stay here forever.

“Good boy,” you said as a moan left your lips and he blushed at the praise, his pants feeling tighter by the second.

Peter continued to lick and suck on your core, a pattern developing as he got you closer and closer to your climax. He whined at your taste, determined to do a good job all of the way through.

Your thighs began to close around his head and he opened them more, your reaction having nothing on his super strength. Plus, nothing was going to stop him from getting you to cum.

“Oh my god Peter,” you threw your head back as your orgasm hit you, the amazing feeling all from Peter’s mouth.

He continued to lap up your release, assuming he should wait until you told him to stop. When you came down from your high, you pulled him back by his curls, a nervous smile on his face.

“That was so good,” you told him as you sat up and he was glad to receive your approval.

You pulled him in for a long kiss, your tongue slipping into his mouth. It was sloppy but neither of you cared, you just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Or mouths for that matter.

You reached back and unclipped your bra and Peter watched in awe as it fell from your shoulders. Yep, he had pictured you naked before, he’s in love with you so…duh. The real thing was better than any picture he painted in his head.

“You’re beautiful,” he slowly reached out, uncertain if you’d want him to touch your boobs.

“You’re gorgeous, Peter,” you placed his hands on your chest, “I always knew you liked tits, you’re a whore for boobs- aren’t you pretty boy?” you smirked and he whined at your teasing, taking one in his mouth.

“I asked you a question,” you pulled him back by his hair and he looked up at you, his round puppy dog eyes full of love.

“Yes I- I love yours,” he sputtered before you pressed his face back into your chest and he groaned when he was met with your soft skin again.

Your hand slid down his bare torso, tracing his abs. You reached his belt buckle which you managed to undo with one hand.

“I wanna see you cum, okay?”

He nodded, still sucking on your tits.

“Get up, take everything off,” you instructed and he made haste, getting up and pulling

You admired him while he stood there waiting for you to tell him what to do. His dick stood tall and his cheeks turned red with your eyes running over him.

You got up and walked over to him, your eyes dark, tits bouncing and you just wanted to touch him. You backed him against the wall and held your hand in from of his mouth, seeing if he’d understand what you wanted.

He cocked his head before you pulled his bottom lip and he immediately opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue and licking your hand. You licked it yourself after, making eye contact with him. He felt his dick twitch and you hadn’t even touched him yet.

“You like that?” You asked when you wrapped your hand around his shaft, pumping him agonizingly slow.

“Yes, so much,” he said, his breathing getting heavier, "p- please, more"

You quickened your pace, every move you made he reacted to. His mouth fell open when you used your other hand to cup his balls, squeezing a little.

“F- fuck,” his lip quivered as he got closer to his orgasm.

You dropped down to your knees, looking up at him as you licked from his base to the tip. He tilted his head back, not caring about hitting the wall. Your mouth felt amazing and you looked so fucking hot with his dick in your mouth.

“Gonna cum like a good boy?” You rubbed small circles on his thighs and he nodded, his face scrunching right before it hit him.

He let out a loud whine, followed by whimpers as he came into your mouth. You made sure to swallow every last drop, trying to act like it maybe tasted good...

“So pretty,” you told him, standing up and cupping his cheeks, soothing him as he relaxed.

“You’re amazing,” he was breathless and you pulled him over to your bed, helping him get under the covers.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” you kissed his forehead and smoothed his hair over, “you did so well,”

He grinned at your praise and pulled you closer, wanting to feel your bare skin on his.

“We should have a serious talk when I get back, okay?” You whispered in his ear and then kissed his cheek.

“Yeah, definitely, I don't want to stargaze by myself,”

=======

Taglist: @avengersbitch @criminalyetminimal

@quaksonhehe @marthakookie @t-bag2

#peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #perter parker y/n #spiderman smut #peter parker smut #mcu x reader #mcu smut #mcu spiderman #peter parker imagine

426 notes · View notes

fnaf-a-palooza · 3 years

Note

May I request some Yandere Hcs of Candy and RAT?

Warning(s): Yandere Themes

Candy

• Will be hard to actually figure out he's a yandere if I'm being honest. Despite what others might think, but Candy is rather cunning when he wants to be. So when he learns about what he's feeling for you, he keeps it to himself as he gets to know you.

• It is agonizing the whole time; mostly because his patience does get thinner each passing day. Candy just wants to finally make his move but also doesn't want to ruin his chance. He must keep this up and not cave, but it's hard to. Especially when he does possess jealous tendencies. Not as bad as other yanderes but he really just wants to do something about it.

• This whole plan he has is basically to win you over by charming you with his playfulness and teasing. He at least wants you to get to know him fully so when it all comes down to it, he can just say that you're lying to yourself. That you honestly did like him as he was and that you're just taking one bad thing over all the good he's shown you. Didn't you love him? Don't you love him?

• So yeah, Candy can be a bit manipulative, but that's only when his mind is in the right place. If his emotions get in the way, he gets sloppy in his actions and it just seems desperate to keep you around. Which is why that is the reason why you will figure things out. One day he will simply not take anymore pining after you and spill.

• It's so off that he practically knows so much about you. Unsettling even. During times when you're not around him, Candy takes it upon himself know more. Soon he's found out your favorites, your hobbies, family, friends, etc. He's not as obsessive as his twin sister, but still obsessive nonetheless.

• Should you try to get away from all this or just outright leave, he won't let you have the chance. It was a very hasty choice in the moment because he was absolutely scared of this outcome, but Candy swiftly knocks you out. He takes a moment to collect himself, inwardly frustrated with his actions and that he wasn't fully prepared for all this. He'll as Penguin for some assistance as he takes you back home. In time, he hopes, you might come to understand why he did this.

RAT

• You know how I said that Springtrap would be a dangerous yandere to have? Yeah, RAT is on the same level, but maybe even worse. He's so darn controlling to the point where it's infuriating, but he's extremely intimidating... Still the thing is, you might even not believe he had feelings for you and assume RAT had something against you.

• Kidnapping is literally the second thing that'll happen to you with this guy. The first being of course; intense stalking. You always have a creeping feeling that your every move is being observed. It's extremely disturbing and even more so when you don't know where this presence is coming from.

• Immediately there's the assumption that RAT had malicious intentions with you; murdering you was what goes through your mind. Upon hearing this, he laughs a little, maybe even playing around with the idea just to get a reaction out of you. Anyways, he'll outright tell you that no, he intends on keeping you.

• Again, like Springtrap, he's going to want to know everything about what you do and such. Might as well kiss your old life goodbye too because he is absolutely not letting you go ever. Escaping RAT is utterly terrifying and this man treats the whole thing as a game. Playing around with your fear and emotions the whole way.

• He's the type to tell you, "You'll learn to love me eventually" but you know, his tone is more sinister than sweet. Don't get me wrong, he is very much infatuated, but he just loves your expressions and wants to know what you'd do in certain situations.

• Got to mention this very important detail; RAT is probably the most jealous yandere (unless someone can top that) out of the ones we've talked about so far. He is such a baby when it comes to not having your attention to the point where if you so much as look at someone with the slightest hint of admiration or friendliness, he's gonna flip. He wants you to love him! No one else!

• Man is a jerk towards you but if someone so much as does anything remotely insulting towards you... They're gone. As mentioned, he does care, deep down. It's just that he isn't willing to share at all and is overall a mess when it comes to treating these sort of emotions. Worst part is that he is very aware, but he chooses not to care.

#fnac #yandere fnac #human fnac #yandere candy #yandere RAT #fnac x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x reader

81 notes · View notes

yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

three, four squeezes

Summary- spencer finds watches you take what he thought was your last breath. turns out they weren't, but you're now in a coma.

TW: coma, fem!reader, spencer pining, angst/fluff ig?, blood, gunshot

WC- 5,681

masterlist

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guilt.

regret.

pain.

fear.

spencer couldn't stop fiddling between as he rode with you in the back of the ambulance.

the guilt he felt as he realized that everything was his doing, his fault. if he wouldn't have froze and if he would've told you how he felt neither of you would be in this position.

the regret he had of never telling you how he felt. he never got to hold you as more than best friends and kiss you like he's wanted to so, so, so many times.

the pain of seeing you in so much pain. and the fear that worsened when you accepted the fact that you would die in his arms

the fear that the last time he held you was when you confessed your darkest secret to him. you never got to hear him tell you how much he truly loved you.

he took your much smaller hand in both of his and pressed it close to his chest, right on top of his heart as if he was trying to tell you what his heart had tried to make him.

he froze.

he shouldn't have froze.

he should've held you and told you how much he loved you. how much he wanted you. how much he's always wanted you.

he should've kissed you and never let you out of his sight. because maybe, just maybe, if he hadn't let you go then you would have never gotten hurt.

he was the reason you were dying.

he was lost in thought when the holter monitor held a steady, long beep. you had flatlined.

you felt the warmth radiating over your skin as you shifted in your position to sit up. you took in your surroundings.

you were in an endless pasture, filled with tall grass that would reach your knees if you had stood up. the sky was perfect, clear, baby blue color that you haven't seen in a while. you were laying on a red blanket with a picnic basket by your side.

the smell of fresh flowers and fresh grass filled your nose. the calming scent bringing you the peace that radiated around you as you observed further into this place.

you had on a flowy, pastel purple sun dress and a pair of white flats on. you turned your head to the side, only to notice you weren't alone.

"spencer!" you cheered excitedly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into your touch. "you're here," you breathed out.

"i am here," you felt the vibrations of his chuckle. "but you shouldn't be here."

you pulled back and looked at him confused. "wh-why not?"

"because," he pushed a strand of hair out of your face as he gazed into your eyes. "you need to go back, sweetheart."

a rush of memories flooded your brain.

you confessed your past, your regret, your love.

he didn't love you back.

you were shot.

"i... i don't want to go back," you admitted with furrowed brows. "i want to stay here. with you."

he looked at you with what seemed to be pity. he scooted closer to you and wrapped his arm around you to pull you closer to his body.

"you can be with me back there. you know that," he said as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

"no, i won't. not-" you took a deep breath, "not like this."

"but this isn't even real. i'm just a figment of your imagination. you're disassociating with your body, and i'm your safe place," he said nonchalantly, as if hearing that didn't break your heart even more.

"but i want to be with you, spence. i've ruined everything out there. you don't want me," you spilled, letting a tear slip past your eye and down your cheek.

"i will always want you, y/n. always," he assured you as he pressed a kiss to your hairline.

"how do you know?" you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"because i'm a genius. remember, sweetheart?" he chuckled.

"promise me?" you said as you turned around and held his hand, squeezing it in anticipation.

"i promise. go back, y/n. you need to go back." he repeated.

"not yet. just a little longer with you, please. just a little longer with you," you pleaded.

spencer had to let go of your hand so the doctors could get the defibrillator. he began shaking before he told himself to be strong. he had to be strong for you.

"please don't leave me..." he prayed for the first time in a while to a god he wasn't even sure he believed in. "don't die on me."

one of the paramedics ripped your shirt open so they could begin to start the chest compressions. spencer hated seeing you so helpless, lifeless, hopeless.

"charge to 260!" one of the doctors yelled before yelling clear and connecting it to your skin.

nothing.

"charge to 350!" she pressed it to your chest and abdomen one more time.

suddenly the monitor began beeping steadily again. you were alive. not okay, but you were breathing.

you had a heartbeat again.

you weren't leaving him yet.

"oh thank god!" he exclaimed as he watched the paramedics leave your side, allowing him to fill their void. he took hold of your hand once again and pressed his lips to it as he watched the paramedic on the other side of you monitoring everything going on with your status.

"thank you, y/n. thank you so much," he placed another kiss on your knuckles as he used his to wipe his tears away.

when you had made it to the hospital he decided to finally call morgan and garcia. he would let them know what happened, minus the whole love confession part, and ask them to alert the rest of the team.

morgan replied in asking if she was okay, and asked for the details later when he got there. garcia was just rushing to get out of her apartment and to the hospital to check on her 'little cherry blossom.'

garcia got there first no doubt breaking a few speed limits in the process, but he didn't mind because now he wouldn't be alone with his own mind. she engulfed spencer in her arms and let him sob it out as she did the same. she didn't ask what happened, she knew he would tell her when he was ready.

morgan took a bit longer, surprisingly. although, in his defense, he did live on the other side of town. upon arrival, he just placed a firm hand on spencer's shoulder and sat beside him in a seat, silently providing his own comfort.

jj was next to arrive. she was already in tears when garcia had called her to make her aware of the news. she gave spencer a tight hug before sitting beside garcia.

when emily got there she raced to jj to ask if they had any information yet, they didn't. she checked on spencer, making sure he wasn't losing his mind completely. she finally settled down and sat beside jj, placing a comforting hand on top of hers.

rossi and hotch arrived at the same time, they were both working late, finishing a few extra case files. they went around comforting the rest of the team, and made sure to pay extra attention to spencer.

everyone knew how close the two of you were. you were like bonnie and clyde, but rather you both solved crime instead of ensuing it. and they knew how much it pained him to see her in pain. even on cases when she would get wounded, spencer would pay the utmost care and attention to you.

spencer didn't say a word. he didn't say what happened. nobody asked. they sat in silence, with almost constant tears from the fear of losing you, waiting for answers to how you were doing.

after a few more hours, jj decided to ask the doctor yet again on any updates on your condition. she quietly got up after letting go of emily's hand and walked over to the front desk.

"ma'am," jj asked the receptionist, "is there any update on y/n y/l/n and her surgery. it's been a few hours now and we're getting wo-"

"y/n y/l/n?" a doctor came into the waiting room holding a clipboard, waiting for someone to claim her company.

spencer jumped up from his seat when he heard her name. everyone had refrained from using in fear of striking something in spencer. they didn't want to upset him more than he already was, so they just kept their mouths shut.

"yes?" he excitedly asked, feeling the sweat in his hands and the exhaustion overwhelming his body.

"she's out of surgery now. she's in a stable condition, but there's some bad news," the doctor grimaced as the others waited expectantly for the rest of the news. "she had a prolonged period of time without oxygen to her brain, she's now in a coma. we aren't sure when she'll wake up," the doctor finally spewed out. "you can go visit her now. maybe one at a time so she can decipher who's who. she can hear what you say, so make it positive and encouraging," he concluded.

spencer looked back at the team, waiting for them to signal that he could go visit her before following the doctor to your room.

spencer walked inside and saw you lying there, lifeless while barely alive. and it was all his fault. you told him it wasn't his fault. in what you thought were your last moments, you wanted him to be at ease. while you were bleeding out from his stupidity, you still claimed your love that he never told you he returned.

and for that he would never forgive himself.

oh, what he would give to hear your laugh again. to see your smile, feel your touch, smell your hair once more. he wanted you back.

so he did the only thing he could do. he sat by your side and grabbed your hand for the millionth time and held it to his cheek, trying to feel your warmth.

"hi, y/n," he started off, deciding to give this whole 'encouragement' thing a try. "there are a lot of studies on whether or not someone can hear whilst their in a coma, but i'm going to try it anyway," he tool a deep breath.

"you're the strongest woman i know, and i meant it when i told you that earlier tonight. i know that you can get through this. i want you to know that i'll be here for you every step of the way. i promise. i-i'll take off every day until you wake up. i have to take a sabbatical anyway, so i can just ask them if i can take it early. if i can't then i'll make garcia come here every single day and i'll call her so you can hear my voice," the tears filled his eyes once again.

"i-i need you here with me, y/n. please," he begged for what felt like the millionth time that night.

"spence," jj called from the doorway. "would you mind if we all talked to her for a minute? then you can come back? i need to get back to my boys now that i know she's going to be okay," she said with a bit of guilt at the thought of her being able to go home.

home to her husband and children.

y/n has always wanted children. she'd be such an amazing wife, and an even better mother. spencer wanted the chance to witness her being a mother first hand, and maybe even being the mother to his own children.

he wanted to give her everything she's ever wanted. he wanted to stay with her until he was forced to have to leave.

truth be told, the day you walked into the bau, you changed his life forever and he didn't even know it. he thought it was just going to be another temporary fill in, until you performed so well at your job that the bau just had to hire you permanently.

you're so amazing at everything you do. everything you've ever done. you always push yourself to be and do your best, something spencer has grown to love and admire you for.

so he just hopes you have a reason to fight. a reason to fight for your life, to fight for him. he hopes that you have hope.

"yea, of course," he pressed his lips to your knuckles one more time before leaving the room, hugging jj on the way out.

garcia was right outside the door, waiting for spencer to come out so she could give him a hug. she wrapped her arms around his torso as his went around her shoulders.

"she's strong, spencer. she'll get through this," garcia tried to comfort him.

"you should've heard her. she-she sounded like she was ready to give up hen she was lying there, bleeding out on the ground," spencer pulled back to look at garcia. "i can't lose her. n-not now."

"you won't lose her," she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder before he nodded to her and walked back into the waiting room, being met by emily's own embrace.

"i'm not gonna tell you how strong she is, because i think we all know that by now. but you can talk to me, reid. that's what you have to know. you can talk to any of us," she consoled before pulling back, her hands still gripping his shoulders tightly.

"sh-she told me she was in love with me," he said out loud for the first time.

"what?" emily's eyes widened at the realization before she pulled his hand to go into an empty room. "explain, please?"

"she told me she was in love with me," he repeated. "and i froze," he sighed.

"you froze? what do you mean? i thought you loved her too?" she pondered, a confused look clouding her face.

"how'd you know that? and yea, i do love her. i love her so much it hurts," he looked down at his feet. "i didn't say it back because i couldn't believe it was happening. i-i mean have you seen her? she's the definition of perfect and she said she loves me."

"oh, spencer," she said before giving him another hug, allowing him to break down in her arms.

"she walked out after that," he grimaced. "when i started walking back to my place that's when i heard the gunshot and called the ambulance. then i noticed it was her and i broke. it's my fault she was out there. if i would've told her how i felt she would've been in my arms and safe. instead, she's in a coma because i was too confused to say anything," he vented.

"it's not your fault, reid. you have to know that," she said before pulling back. "it's the guy who shot her's fault. not yours. you didn't pull the trigger."

"i might as well have. she doesn't know how i'm in love with her," spencer whined, feeling more hopeless than he did when he was kidnapped and drugged.

because at least then, he knew the team would be coming for him.

but he didn't know if you ever wanted to come back.

when you were lying there, dying, it was like you were saying goodbye as he held you in his lap. his hands, pants, and even shirt were covered in your blood.

he hadn't even noticed. he didn't care to notice. you were the only thing on his mind. everyone else knew he wouldn't leave without knowing your condition, so they didn't bother telling him to go clean up. emily noticed him eyeing his own appearance.

"go change. i'll call you if we have any updates. relax, please. she's not going to leave you," emily said before shooing him away to clean up.

spencer went to his place to change quickly and take a shower after morgan gave him his hoodie to wear on the drive there. meanwhile, emily walked out into the waiting room and took notice of morgan in his own worry.

"she'll fight. we know she will," emily confirmed as she walked to sit beside him.

"i know she will, but i'm also worried about the kid," morgan moved his head out of his hands as he looked at emily. "he told me how he was in love with her. and i'm willing to bet this has something to do with that. he's been through so much, he doesn't deserve to lose another person in his life."

"i know, you're right. he doesn't deserve this, nobody does, but he especially doesn't deserve this," emily said as she put her hand over his back, rubbing it soothingly.

"i'm gonna see if i can have my turn talking to y/n," he stood up and walked to your room, taking notice of jj still inside and penelope waiting patiently.

he wrapped his arms around garcia and let her cry as jj finished up inside before exiting and saying her goodbyes to everyone, allowing penelope to have her turn to talk with you.

showering helped spencer more than he thought it would. being covered in your blood was more frightening than he thought, so seeing his own skin on his hands was much easier for him.

he drove himself back to the hospital, wanting to avoid more prying eyes of cab drivers taking notice of his obvious grief and panic.

when he walked inside, hotch was inside your room with rossi, despite the 'one-person-at-a-time' rule. he knocked on the outside of the doorframe, alerting the two of his presence.

"kid. hey," rossi came up to greet him, giving him a quick hug before hotch did the same.

"reid, we know how close you two are, so just know that she's probably fighting to get back to you, the rest of us too, but especially you," hotch declared with a pity grin.

"i hope you're right," he glanced back in the room to look at you. "i really hope you're right."

spencer walked back into your room after the two older men left. he scooted the chair closer to your bed and held your hand. he crossed his arms on top of your bed, your hand still in his, and laid his head down on his arms.

he waited.

and waited.

there was no progress.

he wanted you to come back to him. he wanted to feel your touch again and hear your laugh. he wanted to tell you how he felt. he just wanted you.

he was able to work at home on the few cases they received, and took his paperwork to your hospital room when he wasn't able to finish it as quickly as normal.

as the weeks went by, his hope began to dwindle, but his determination only grew. he was determined to be able to tell you how much he loved you while you were awake, so he refrained from spilling his guts while you were still unconscious.

he would read you books. your favorite books. the books you would ask him to read to you when you were feeling sad and wanted to hear his voice to calm you down.

he played your favorite songs. the songs you and him listened to on the way to work or to museums he would beg you to go to with him.

he even played chess with you. granted, he was more so playing himself acting as you. he would try to play whatever moves he felt you would play against him.

he cried with you. he cried for you to come back to him. he cried that you never stop fighting. he cried that he would get at least one more time to talk to you.

but one day the doctors noticed that you were able to breath on your own. they were able to take the tube out of your mouth and throat and nose. that was his hope. your strength was his hope.

he sped to the hospital that day, wanting to see you as soon as he could. it had been three weeks since the shooting, and he desperately needed the sight of your chest moving up and down voluntarily, a sign of your own breath breathing life into your body.

emily just nodded her head at him to go when he stormed into her office, she had received the same call seconds earlier.

when he came into your room, he as already in tears at the new progress. he brushed your hair out of your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"keep fighting, y/n/n. you're so close to coming back to me, to us, to the team. please keep going," he begged as he sat down by your side. "i got the call about you being able to breath on your own, and i ran into emily's office. she didn't even need to say anything, she knew it was you," he smiled momentarily.

"i can't wait to be able to hug you again, and feel your warmth again. i uhm, i never told you this, but we've kissed," he smiled at the memory. "it was that night you were drunk and told me about your parents. you had kissed me after i told you how beautiful and amazing you were, and how wrong your parents were. i kissed you back, too," he gently bit his lip at the confession. "i-i didn't tell you because... i shouldn't have kissed you back. god, i've always wanted to kiss you, but not when you were drunk and vulnerable. i felt like i took advantage of you, and i hated that i did that to you. so, i never told you," he frowned at the hidden secret.

"but please, please, please come back to me. please let me kiss you for real this time. let me tell you how i feel, and hold you forever and ever. please just don't leave me. i won't be able to take that, y/n. i know how selfish that is, but i can't live without you. these past few weeks without hearing your voice has been hell," he frowned.

he had called your phone every day since the shooting just to hear your voice on the voicemail. those 29 words have been one of the things he's loved listening to when he woke up. he'd never admit it, but you'd realize it once you checked your phone.

another thing he loved doing was look through his videos of you. in one particular video, maybe even his favorite, you had taken his phone and began recording him on it.

you knew he hated his own appearance, although you'd never understand why, so you secretly took his phone and began recording him.

"hey spence! can you come here?" you called as you were in the living room, waiting for him to bring you your chicken tandoori.

"yup! i'm coming!" he came racing out with the two boxes of takeout, giving you one as he sat on the couch. he didn't even notice the phone with how you placed it in your hands.

"thanks handsome," you teased, although you meant every word you said. his face automatically blushed at the compliment, but he rolled his eyes nonetheless.

"oh, shut it," he said before stuffing a piece of chicken in his mouth. you giggled at his reaction, his favorite sound in the world.

"never. i don't know why you think you aren't attractive. you're so beautiful, spence, i'm surprised you don't already have a special someone," you nudged him with your elbow, the phone now being rested against your thigh to get a perfect view of him. you could see the smile he tried to hide by biting his lip gently.

"but i guess that does mean i get to spend more time with you, so i won't object," you laughed out before finally taking a bite of the food.

spencer noticed the phone on your thigh after you took a bite, his eyes widening at what he realized you were doing.

"y/n! why were you recording me?!" he exclaimed, trying to grab the phone and succeeding. he turned the camera on to you as you began laughing loudly at his reaction. "what do you have to say for yourself, ma'am?" he questioned.

your smile was brighter than ever, your face red from all the laughing. you were wearing one of spencer's sweaters, your favorite one. you had taken a couple because 'they're cozier' than yours. you put your hands up in surrender.

"i guess you caught me, hot stuff," you laughed before he placed the phone down and began his tickle attack on you. "ahhh! spencerrrr! please!" you laughed out. "i surrender!" tears of laughter were streaming down your face.

"fine. i think you've paid your penance," he joked before grabbing the phone and turning the camera on only you once again, you blushing from the action. "y'know you're really beautiful, right?" you smiled widely at his confession, sensing the sincerity in his voice.

"thank you, spencer. so are you, truly beautiful," you smiled even wider before he finally turned the camera off.

he remembers that day like it was yesterday. he'd like to claim it was because of his eidetic memory, but it was also because of you.

you had gotten the weekend off and decided to spend it together, once again. you had stayed the night with him all weekend, you insisted on sleeping on the couch to which he objected, forcing you to take the bed with him.

you had woken up cuddled in each others arms, facing each other like you had been hugging the whole night. spencer felt the most content he had ever felt in that moment, never wanting to let you go or wake you, so he waited for you to wake up.

that was the best weekend he's had in a while. you two acted as if you were in a relationship, domestic. it was delightful.

there was another picture the two of you had taken after a rather successful case.

all the missing children were found safe, a rare occurrence, so you had gone out to a bar to celebrate. it was mostly emily, morgan, and garcia's doing, so you had all eventually agreed once you figured out they wouldn't back down.

you had known how spencer was at bars, he was sometimes rather uncomfortable with all of the people. it made him anxious and a bit intimidated. so after you had all met up at the bar and you noticed how nervous he was, you intertwined your arms and took his hand in yours.

"my mom used to do this thing when i was anxious or nervous to calm me down," you whispered, wrapping your other arm around his one as you squeezed his hand three times. "it's supposed to be our way of assuring the other. a way of saying i'm here," you explained before he squeezed four times in return, your brows furrowed. "what does that mean?"

"i-it could mean i'm glad you're here," he grinned as he noticed the smile that erupted on your face from his kind words.

and you didn't let go all night.

"please come back to me, i know you can. you're so strong, please just come back to me," spencer wailed. he felt your hand squeezing his as he held it, making his encouragement the entire reason you came back to him.

"spence, you're making a mess," you giggled, wiping the corner of his lip free of the chocolate you two were eating, still in that heavenly place.

"i'm sorry! it just tastes really good," he smiled back as he watched you lick the chocolate from your thumb.

"mm, you're right. it does taste really good," you nodded your head. "so i'm taking all of them!" you grabbed the box full of chocolate and began running. looking back to see spencer chasing after you, you bursted into a fit of laughter.

the tall grass tickled your legs slightly, the breeze lifting your dress a tiny bit as you continued to jog ahead of him, teasing him with your laughter. he finally caught up with you, taking you down with him as you both giggled.

“you got me, dork,” you laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly.

“of course i do! did you expect anything less?” he said arrogantly, you rolled your eyes.

“never from you, doctor,” you teased as he pulled you in closer to him, you nuzzled your face into his neck as he admired the view around him. suddenly he stood up, the chocolate box in hand, and began running.

“you little tease!” you shouted before getting up to chase him as he did you previously. “spencer reid, you’re so gonna get it!” you laughed out

"don’t leave me," he turned around to face you and called out, suddenly you felt a pang in your stomach where you had been stabbed.

you made eye contact with him, a look of shock and horror on your face as you tried to figure out what was wrong before you collapsed to the ground.

"sp-spencer? what's happening?" you asked as he pulled you into his lap.

"it's been two weeks y/n, i-i miss you." he began. "i know you're right here with me, but i miss your voice. and your laugh-"

"spencer i'm right here. i was just laughing with you," you tried to interrupt his monologue.

"and i miss the way your hair would crowd my face as we slept and how it would make me wake up. i miss hugging you and-"

"spencer please, i'm here," you cried, squeezing his hand as hard as you could to signify your presence.

"please come back to me, i know you can. you're so strong, please just come back to me."

"y/n! can you hear me?!" he exclaimed, you squeezed his hand once more, a little tighter than the last time. "oh my god! oh thank you so much, y/n," he cried as he kissed your knuckles once more, your fingers twitching in the process.

"doctor. we need the doctor!" he said as he pressed the nurse's button. "she's squeezing my hand. her fingers started twitching!" he said excitedly as the nurse entered, exiting to get the doctor.

you squeezed his hands three times, him returning with four times. you understood what he meant. his eyes were trained on your face and he saw as your lips twitched upwards in a smile.

the doctor came in to perform a few tests and forced him to release your hand. he asked you to squeeze his hand once more, you followed suit. the doctor noticed your nose twitching and neck beginning to turn.

"she's gaining control over her body again. this was predicted once we found out she could breath on her own, we just didn't think it'd happen this quickly. a recovery this soon after removing the tube is almost unprecedented," he said in awe of your strength.

"she's the strongest person i know. it's no surprise that she's recovering this fast," spencer said as he took hold of your hand again.

"indeed. she should regain full control over herself within a few hours or by overnight at this point. go easy on her, she's still recovering from being shot. i also need to observe the bullet hole on her stomach, but you could stay for that if you'd like." spencer nodded as the doctor raised the hospital gown.

there was deep bruising around the bullet hole and a scab over top. your stomach looked smaller than it had the last time he'd seen it, a result from you having to be fed through a tube. you were unbelievably pale, no surprise there either because of the lack of sunlight.

"it's healing nicely, the scab looks healthy and the bruising is getting better. she's a fighter, this one," he smiled at spencer.

"you have absolutely no idea," he said, not breaking his eyes from your beautiful face.

the doctor left swiftly after charting her vitals and giving her a shot of her vitamins. spencer sat back down in the chair and held your hand once again, waiting for you to fully wake up so you could once again be in each others' arms.

later that day, at around 11:50, your entire body began shifting. spencer sat up straight away, trying to held you in any way possible.

"that's it, y/n! come on, you can do it, y/n/n," he cheered you on, smiling so hard he felt his eyes prick with tears. you turned onto your side, towards spencer, and your eyes had began to twitch open.

"sp-spencer?" you questioned once your eyes were fully open.

"yea, yes. it's me. i'm here. i'm right here," he wrapped his arms around you, adjusting his grip after you grimaced from his tight hold. "i'm never leaving. i'm never letting you leave again," he ranted out, placing a hand on the back of your head as you wrapped the arm that didn't have an iv around his body, pushing your head to nuzzle into his neck.

"i'm so sorry. i never should've left you there," you cried into his arms.

"it's okay, y/n. it's not your fault at all," he soothed as his hand started stroking your hair gently. "i'm so glad you came back to me. thank you so much," he sighed as he gently placed a kiss on your head."

"you really think i would go that easily? i thought you knew me better than that, dumbo," you laughed out.

"i'm glad to see you still have that sense of humor in you," spencer scoffed, followed by a bright smile.

"oh that's not going anwhere, spencer. and neither am i."

@averyhotchner @greenprisca @muffin-cup

#spencer reid fluff #spencer #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst

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nekomasmanager · 3 years

Text

Tanaka Ryūnosuke × Reader

I'm extremely late to posting this even though I had it all written out beforehand. But oh well（￣︶￣）↗

Here is one of my personal favorites, cause I absolutely adore Tanaka, he resonated with me, ever since his first appearance.

You can find the ao3 post about this fic here: ao3 post

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Pairing: Tanaka Ryūnosuke & Reader Word Count: 3137 Fandom: Haikyuu!! Original Post Date on ao3: 03/03/2021

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You always knew Tanaka-San had a crush on Kiyoko. You already knew that. But you couldn't not fall for his charm, his sense of humor, and his skills on the court. You were also sure that he doesn't even know who you are.

You were just a member of the girls volleyball team. Sure you may have your special moments when you spike a ball the right way to score a point, but other than that, you're just a regular volleyball player. So when Tanaka came to you for advice, you were legitimately surprised.

At first you didn't answer him right away, thinking it was a prank, and looking for your teammates because they discovered your crush on the fellow spiker. But when you couldn't find any of them, you gladly accepted to help him. And well, you wished you asked him what kind of advice he needed. Because you weren't prepared for the devastating feeling you got when he told you he needed help asking Kiyoko out.

Not letting your unrequited feelings get in the way, you managed a weak smile and nodded, saying you'll help him however you can. "Sweet! Thanks Y/N!" "You're wel... wait you know my name?" "Well yeah of course I do! I would never forget the name of the girl whose spikes are out of this world!" He moves closer. "And well I couldn't forget the girl who always sneaks around to check out the boys volleyball practice." With that last statement, you blush profusely, mutter a quick flustered good bye and run away, listening to Tanaka's laughs behind you.

You couldn't believe it. He noticed you sneaking by the gym to see their practice. He even saw how you spike. Damn now you're going to be self-conscious whenever you're going for a spike in practice or in a match. "But how did he know I come to watch him and his team practice? I always try to stay hidden and not bother them, so how?" you mutter to yourself, not looking where you're going, and you just bump into someone. You quickly excuse yourself, but you're still thinking and don't notice who you bumped into, so you just continue on your way.

"Y/N?" You look up quickly and look around, searching for the source of the voice. There's only Nishinoya, and of course it's not him who called you, right? How would he know your name? But as you keep looking around, you heard him snicker, and you blush. "Y/N are you okay?" "Wait. You're talking to me?" "Well yes. There's no one else around, as I'm sure you noticed while looking around." "But how do you know my name?" "All of our team knows who you are, dummy! You're famous amongst us!" Horror struck your face, and you start panicking. What did he mean you're famous? Famous how? Did you make a fool out of myself in front of them and didn't notice? What are you going to do?

"Y/N calm down. It's nothing like that! Don't worry! It's my fault I should've been clearer. You're famous because we all know you watch us practice and watch us play our matches. And well whenever you're around Tanaka-San is always on top of his game! So thank you for that!" he said with a big smile on his face.

You could only look at him in shock. Were you that obvious with your sneaking around? You always try to make it to their matches to cheer them on, and you always go to watch them practice because they were just so cool to watch. Whenever you practiced with your team, you tried to incorporate what you saw with what you already know, but it would always turn into a hot mess and ruins everything. But you still tried to make them work.

But now that the entire boys team knows you're watching them, how can you face them? How can you face Ryūnosuke and help him get the girl he likes? And what did Nishinoya mean by Tanaka always playing better when they know you're watching? You had way too many questions on your mind and you had to blow off some steam. "I.. um.. I have to go now, I gotta practice or something. Bye Nishinoya-San!" He chuckles, amused by your flustered self, "Bye Y/N! See you at next practice!" You couldn't even answer, you just turned red and ran away, almost falling because of your own feet. Hitting yourself mentally, you get away even faster.

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You make way towards the school's gym, making sure no one is around, and you just start practicing. As you shoot your serves, you're thinking "What would Kiyoko-San enjoy as a gesture or present? What would be cool enough and not cringey at the same time? Why am I even helping him, I don't know Kiyoko that much! Sure I greet her in the hallways, and help her with minute tasks but that's it. Ugh I dug this hole myself, might as well make the most of it."

You try to focus again on your serves, but there's one thought that keeps gnawing in your mind, what did Nishinoya mean by Tanaka being on top of his game when you were watching? Shrugging off the questions from your mind, you went to pick up another ball from the pit, and that's when you realise you were not alone in the gym.

Before checking who the mysterious person was by the ball pit, you let out a high scream, scared for you life. "Quit your screaming Y/N!! It's me Tanaka. What are you even doing here all alone? I was looking for you everywhere!" "Tanaka-San? How did you know where to find me? And why were you looking for me?"

"Well I saw you talking to Nishinoya while looking for you, and as I was about to come greet you, you got all flustered and left him, almost stumbling to the ground." You hit yourself mentally, damn you made a fool out of yourself in front your crush, this day cannot get any worse. "I went up to Nishinoya to ask him where you went, and he told me you came here to practice. But before coming here I had to pick up something to show it to you. So close your eyes please." Sceptical about all this, you still closed your eyes, trying to calm down your excitement, Tanaka wanted to show you something!! You felt something a bit heavy being placed in your extended hands, and hear Tanaka telling you to open you eyes.

Looking down, you're faced with a box of chocolates and tiny teddy bear to match. You look up to the boy in front of you, questioning him with your eyes, trying to hide your blush. "This is a gift I picked out for Kiyoko-San. I wanted to see if she'll like it or not. So I thought showing it to you first and getting your opinion would be better, before I do something stupid."

"Oh." "You don't like it?" asking you with a hurt look in his eyes, mixed with something you couldn't quite place your finger on. "No no nothing like that. I think it's actually really sweet that you got this for Kiyoko. I'm sure she'll really love it. I was just surprised that's all! Don't worry!" He sighs, relief washing over him. "I also think that this gift paired with what I had in mind for a confession would be perfect. Since Kiyoko stays until the end of practice, you could ask her to wait up for you when you're done. You get her the gift. You look sweetly into her eyes, and say 'I really like you, and it's been a while since I do. I guess you might have noticed before, but now I wanted to say it more seriously. So please accept my gift. I would also be really happy if you returned my feelings.' And I guess that's about it, you should be ready for a confe-"

You stop in the middle of your sentence, because Ryūnosuke was standing really close to you, seriousness radiating from him. He gently raises his hand, and wipes under your eyes. You did not notice you were crying. Embarrassed, you give him back his gift, and worked quickly at wiping those tears away. "Ah I must have felt emotional and happy for you. I'm glad I gave you my idea, even if you don't use it in the end, I was happy to help. Do tell me what happens after that confession. I'll wait up after your practice to know all the details! I have to go now. See you soon!"

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You spilled all those words out, wanting to get away from him, in fear that your tears will flow down even faster. You left him without letting him speak. You just had to get away. Your cheek still tingles where he touched you to get rid of that singular tear. His hand felt so warm and you just wanted to snuggle, close your eyes and enjoy that closeness. But no you couldn't do that, he'll soon be someone else's boyfriend, and you just couldn't do that. You were running, as fast as you can. Your vision was blurry. You were crying again. You had to stop.

Seeing a nearby school building where no one actually comes here, you lean up on one of its walls, and just break down. Sliding down, you sit on the grass, and start sobbing. You hear the bell ringing calling student back to their classroom, but you couldn't care less. Your heart was aching and breaking, because you loved someone who doesn't love you back. Your body was shaking. You wanted to hit yourself for falling for someone you knew could never be yours. After a few minutes of crying your eyes out, you slowly calm yourself, still sniffling with the occasional hiccup.

You look up to the bright blue sky , and decided to tread back to your classroom, not caring if you were late. After a quick bathroom break to wash your face, you walk slowly back to your shared classroom with your crush and his teammate. Keeping your head down, you open the classroom door, and you can feel the stares on you. Apologizing for being late, the teacher lets you in with a warning and you promise to not be late again. You go to sit down at your designated window seat, and start staring at the field and nature outside, filtering out the words your teacher was saying. While staring outside, you failed to notice one particular boy who keeps on glancing at you, worried about you, with his heart aching and thumping loudly in his ears because of you.

Classes are finally over, but you stayed seated, wanting to copy down the notes you missed. You saw a shadow blocking your light, so you look up and see Nishinoya next to you. "Oh! Hi Noya. What brings you here? You need something? Don't you have practice?" "I just wanted to make sure you were okay Y/N. You never come late to your classes. And when Tanaka told me what happened, I was even more worried than him. Well no that's not true, he was scared shitless about where you were and why you were late. And when you came in late, with puffy and a downcast expression on your face, I knew you were crying. Want to tell me why?" You never knew Nishinoya was this observant. Feeling shy, you grab one strand of your hair while trying to explain yourself. "I just fell down while running back to class, and I hurt myself, so I cried like an idiot, and took some time to wash off the dirt in the bathroom. You don't have to worry about me!" Mustering a sad smile, you can see that he wasn't convinced by your fake story, but decided not to pressure you into telling him. "Well I'm glad you're better. But now come on! We have to go to practice!" You knew you couldn't argue with him, so you just quickly picked up your things and followed him out towards the gym.

Getting to the gym, you stop by the bench under the window and seat yourself, while Noya changes his shoes and enters the gym. As you're sitting down, trying to be comfortable, the libero player comes back out and starts looking from left to right, and when he sees you, he comes up to you. "What are you doing still out there? Come on in!" "But but I always stay out here so I don't distract you and I also study a bit!" "None of that! Come on. The whole team wants to finally meet you properly!"

You take your bag, change your shoes, and come in, shyly standing behind Noya. As you enter, all eyes turn to you, and you can feel yourself blushing like crazy. "Nice to meet you all, I'm Y/N. Sorry for the intrusion during your volleyball practice." "No intrusion at all. We were waiting for you to join us!" You turn and see that it was Coach Ukai that just spoke to you. Beaming to finally be able to speak to the famous coach of the boys volleyball team, you couldn't contain your excitement, and gave him a big hug, and realise way too late that everyone was looking at you.

With firetruck-red cheeks, you let go of the coach and scratch your neck, looking sheepish. When the initial shock wears off, you hear the coach's laugh and you feel him patting you on the head. "I like you already. You recognize talent when you see it." Smiling, you nod at his words. You go sit down on one chair and take out your books to study a bit. But you see yourself glancing every once and a while towards a certain player wanting to see him practice. Whenever he spikes a ball really well, your heart swells, but that quickly dies down when you see him looking at Kiyoko to view her reaction.

With an aching heart, you go back to your solving of mathematical equations. The end of practice soon comes around. You gather your supplies while saying good bye to the other players, having enjoyed watching them practice. Nishinoya comes up to you, and you both exit the gym quickly, cause you knew what's going to happen soon. You take your time putting on your shoes, telling Noya to leave before you so he won't be late.

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Being alone, you wait up, sitting down on a bench. To your surprise Kiyoko exits the gym soon after you and wears her shoes, preparing to go home. You go up to her and ask: "Wait. Where are you going? Where's Tanaka-San?" "Oh. He's inside, he told me to call you in when I got out." Confused, you wave her good bye and enter the gym again. It was all empty, except for the boy you liked standing in the middle of the court.

"Tanaka? What are you doing? And why didn't say anything to Kiyoko? She was right there! Did she reject you before you got the chance to give her your gift?" You're met with silence. You come closer to him, touching his shoulder gently. He turns around, and just engulfs you in a hug. Shocked, you slowly hug him back. You felt him relax when you wrapped your arms around him. "What's wrong? Did Kiyoko let you down? Tell me." You couldn't stand him not talking to you. You stop your questions when you hear him mumbling.

"What is it? I can't hear you properly." "It was never about Kiyoko-San. Sure she's pretty and cute, but she's nowhere close to you. When you didn't come to class, I was freaking out. Asking myself if it was my fault you came in late. And when I saw your puffy eyes and sad expression, my heart broke. I never want to see you like that. I know now what I asked of you was really unfair, but I wanted to know the best way for me to confess my feelings to you, but I ended up hurting you and making you cry. I'm such an idiot to make you go through all that. Please forgive me, I couldn't forgive myself for causing you so much pain. I like you so much. I can even say that I fell in love with you. I love you."

You were at a loss for words. While Ryū was squeezing you in his arms, the same words kept repeating in your head.

It was never about Kiyoko-San. I love you. It was never about Kiyoko-San. I love you. It was never about Kiyoko-San. I love you. It was never about Kiyoko-San. I love you.

You slowly get out of the hug, looking up at Ryū's face. Hopeful look in your eyes. "Do you really love me?" "Yes. I love you so much Y/N. Ever since I noticed you coming to watch us practice, I found myself seeking you out, whether in class, or for your help in a fake matter, that I regret doing so much. I started loving everything about you." Blushing like crazy, you buried your head in his chest. Slightly laughing, he wraps his arms around you in a loose hug.

You muster up your courage, stand on your tiptoes, and whisper in his ear. "I love you too, Ryū." Not being able to contain his excitement, he picks you up and twirls you around, laughing and being so happy that you love him back. When he puts you down, you grab his cheeks gently and bring him down to face you. You kiss him sweetly, humming when he kisses you back, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"So.." Tanaka asks still encircling you with his arms. "Does that mean we're officially a couple?" Lightly hitting him in the arm, "Of course we are you dummy." "Yes! Everyone will definitely be jealous of this hot couple. They can only dream of being like us." Laughing together at his adorableness, you stay in each other's arms, content with everything in your lives, and that you finally found each other.

Nishinoya was definitely there during the whole exchange, knowing from the beginning how you both felt about each other. He's the best third-wheel you'll ever encounter. He'll definitely brag about you two and how he helped bringing you both together, even though he didn't really do that much to help. But you still love him both, he's definitely a great friend. You'll never tell him that, but you also tell people that it was him that brought you both together.

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Yay! My fanfic about Tanaka is finally up! I hope you enjoy reading it!

The next one is the longest I've written until now and it's with Tsukishima Kei!

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thesimperiuscurse · 3 years

Note

I'm asking ALL OF THEM for Mako. But also want to say that I really appreciate the sink picture being your header now lmfao. If Mako gets asked by someone then I switch to Misha

Poor Damien got dethroned by a sink. Time to spill Mako’s love life! It’s something that isn’t meant to be a secret but just doesn’t really get brought up in the story, because if I write every detail of the character backstories, the chapters will be infinite. Spoilers ahead for Chapter 11.

a — how does your muse show affection?

Before he met Eva, he knew nothing of physical (non-sexual) affection, being more of an Acts of Service type. Back then he and Misha weren’t close enough just yet to share the affection they do now. As a result, his love language has developed almost entirely from Eva’s cuddling and her small, mindless touches. He’s slowly learning to return that affection, especially now that they’re in a romantic relationship. It’s subtle, no grand gestures or declarations, just existing peacefully together.

b — does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

He loves flowers. Since he was a little kid his favourite thing to do was wander around the estate gardens, and later Tokyo, just to gaze at flowers and curl up among their sunlit perfumes. There’s something about the delicate beauty and quiet life and resilience of flowers that captures his fascination. Sakura blossoms are his favourite.

c — does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

He can’t... eat... chocolate...

d — what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

Mako liked dressing up and going to very expensive restaurants, but he doesn’t think of dates anymore, because Vicky ruined the romantics of it for him.

e — does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Not before Eva. Sometimes his baby niece Chiharu hugs him when he carries her around but that doesn’t really count. It took him completely off guard when Eva just ran up to him at regionals and hugged him. It was at this moment he discovered he likes hugs, and these two have been snuggling ever since.

f — is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

He’s never flirted with anyone in terms of pick up lines, flattering, etc. He knows he’s sexy as fuck physically very attractive and his reputation is a powerful magnet, so it’s always people coming up to him and flirting. If he’s interested then his body language will show it.

g — is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

Due to relationship expectations he bought many expensive things for Victoria (mostly diamond jewellery), but the only true gift he’s ever given is to Misha for his 18th birthday, which was a collection of books and so quite thoughtful. His perspective of money is extremely warped compared to normal people, though, so if he ever was to get his partner something, he would need to consult Misha about it.

h — is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

He falls in love very easily with anyone who shows him a bit of kindness (the reason why he stayed with Vicky and her unpleasant behaviour). However he is very quiet about it, and worries needlessly about whether his feelings are returned, so with Eva she’s been the one to initiate everything in their relationship so far.

i — does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

Mako used to think it as something precious and special, as the truest expression of love. He would exchange it quite often and easily with Vicky in goodnights and goodbyes. Of course, she used this trust to her advantage for an ulterior motive. He realised that the words were just that—words, able to be uttered without feeling. Now it is tainted, and it’s likely he won’t ever be able to say it again.

k — is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

Yes. Hoe. Also, his first boyfriend (Zephyr, his real name being Laurence Atlas) taught him a great deal about pleasure so credit to him, I guess.

l — who does your muse love?

m — how does your muse reconcile after arguments or fights?

He rarely gets into arguments because 1) he tries to avoid conflict by calming situations down and 2) who’s brave enough to challenge him? The answer to that is his partner, but they haven’t gotten into any fights yet as a couple so we shall have to see.

o — does your muse have a way with words?

Not really. He’s charismatic in his elegant, gentleman way, but his way of assembling words is logical. His crush on Eva rendered him shy and flustered in front of her so his ability to be a smooth talker is nonexistent. Luckily for him, Eva is also blunt so they just talk to each other in a straight-forward manner, or without words at all.

p — what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Traditionally, his criteria for whoever he hooks up with is just beauty. Thanks to his work, he’s always surrounded by beautiful people, *cough* Damien. Partner wise... he wasn’t looking. Eva just burst into his life and he found that he loves her everything.

q — would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

In his situation, technically it would be his parents who are going to be asking :/

r — is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

Hopeless romantic. Because of the way he grew up, the classic depiction of romance is wonderfully appealing to him. What little he’s seen of romance in media makes his heart yearn. His traditional perception of love somewhat contradicts his sexuality, and of course now, he’s also a cynic.

s — did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

No, the only kids he talked to during his childhood were his cousins.

t — does your muse believe in true love?

Yes. Just not for him.

u — has your muse had their heart broken?

Yes, and it ceaselessly bothers Misha.

w — would your muse get married? why / why not?

His opinion on marriage is neutral. He really likes the idea of a beautiful wedding (*cough* multi-million dollar wedding) and wishes for it have been brewing in the back of his mind for years. The concept of marrying for true love is just something that has never seemed real for him, so at the same time, he’s worried about the many years after the wedding, if his wife will even like his company.

x — does your muse use / like pet names?

No, he’s really not verbally affectionate anymore. Eva will fight him if he tries to call her one anyway.

y — does your muse get protective easily?

He is very protective of the two people he loves. He knows Eva can defend herself perfectly well, so in a way he’s more protective of Misha, who is more vulnerable. He’s not physically defensive because while he’s strong, he’s non-violent and can’t fight for shit, but there’s power in his position in society that has potential to cause far more damage than physical scars. At the moment he relies on people’s fear of this (see: Logan) rather than actually wielding it.

#no one likes you vicky #makohayashi #genfour #lilaremonn #thesimperiuscurse #characterask

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brasskier · 3 years

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@badthingshappenbingo trope #4!

Trope: Concussion

Summary: Jaskier feels like a detective, albeit a clumsy, scrambled-eggs-for-brains kinda detective. He has two mysteries on his plate at the moment - why is Geralt in a bad mood, and why won't his brain cooperate? (Hint: perhaps it has something to do with hitting his head that morning.)

Read on my ao3 or below the cut:

Jaskier probably should've told Geralt when he slipped and smashed his head into a rock on the riverbank coming back up from his morning bath, or should've at least known it was bad when bright worms of light started squiggling in his peripheral and words suddenly got a lot harder to string together. And maybe he would've, if he wasn't so intent on figuring out why Geralt was in such a piss-poor mood that morning. He felt like a detective - albeit a clumsy, scrambled-eggs-for-brains kinda detective - stringing together clues and occasionally nudging the witcher along with leading questions, at least when he could get his brain, lips, and tongue to all cooperate.

Unfortunately, Jaskier was doing about as well at solving the mystery of Geralt the extra-grumpy witcher as he was figuring out what was going on in his own skull. It'd happened once when he was a boy, falling out of a twisty, too-tall tree. His father, may he rest in peace, didn't notice until Jaskier, uncharacteristically silent, stared vacantly past him— until that point he'd been more preoccupied scolding him for ruining yet another fine pair of trousers. (His parents paid good money for those things, but he was pretty sure maybe they should've learned by that point and stopped dressing him up in finery before releasing him into the world.)

Speaking of, he could use a new pair of pants. Maybe once they made it to the next town he could find a seamstress, maybe even invest in a nice new doublet as well. Geralt always pretended he found such purchases frivolous and vain, all huffy and monosyllabic, but Jaskier knew full well it put him in a good mood to have something to tease Jaskier for.

Good mood. Right. He was supposed to be figuring out why he was in a decidedly not good mood. He was supposed to… well, he really didn't know past that. His thoughts flitted about his head like a chicken desperate to escape its coop, and this thought made him giggle to himself, picturing his squishy brain with a beak and feathers squawking about.

"Jaskier?" He glanced up at the witcher that had reclaimed his attention, finding it distinctly difficult to track his movements as he bobbed along on his horse. "Did you listen to a thing I said?" Well, that was a silly question, Jaskier thought, because in order for him to listen, Geralt would've had to have said something. His mind trapped like a stuck cog on how to put this minor incongruence into words, and the witcher glared at him in the space of his tenuous silence.

"How could I?" He asked finally, head tilted to parallel the uncertainty etched in his tone.

"With your ears," Geralt deadpanned, and Jaskier grimaced under the frustration of his misunderstanding.

"No, that's not— I meant— you didn't—" he attempted to elaborate, but once again found his brain, flighty as a hummingbird, refused to put thoughts to language. Geralt slowed Roach to a halt, and only then did Jaskier realize he'd at some point stopped walking. He wasn't too sure when that happened, but he was sure he had to start again, because Geralt was already in a bad mood and the uneasy threat of abandonment always loomed thick.

This, in hindsight, might've been a mistake. The trees spun, ground tilting ominously like a ship caught in a storm, and Jaskier staggered with the rhythm of it. This, finally, mercifully, seemed to tip off Geralt and his fancy-schmancy witcher senses that something wasn't right.

"Jaskier?" He called, and he still sounded decidedly disgruntled. This wasn't good; Jaskier was supposed to be getting him in a better mood, not making things worse. He'd even been quiet for a change (moreso due to his tongue's uncooperativeness than any conscious choice on his part, not that Geralt needed to know this detail).

The witcher swung a leg off the saddle, dismounted with the grace of a cat. (Which was funny; wasn't Geralt supposed to be a wolf? Didn't Geralt's brother know a cat witcher? Maybe cat witchers were even more graceful, like ballerinas; Geralt would never do ballet.) This thought would've also made Jaskier giggle, but he was hesitant to unclamp his jaw at the moment, fearful that more than words might spill past it.

"Jaskier?" It was more urgent this time, which Jaskier vaguely recognized was not good, but couldn't quite recall why. When he managed to force his eyes to focus for a split second, Geralt was in front of him, before the forest swelled again and swallowed him with it. He pressed a hand over his eyes, in the vain hope blindness might put an end to the spinning; he had no such luck, and found himself drifting even in the darkness.

"Mmm?" He hummed, which was usually Geralt's line, but he was determined to keep up the tight-lipped defiance of his own body. He felt a hand scrape his forehead, shifting his carefully mussed hair, and then move down to cup his chin between two fingers. It was a gruff, economic movement; Jaskier, in his self-imposed darkness, pretended it was tender.

"What's wrong with you?" Even Geralt's voice seemed to be swimming, tilting forward and back with each strangely distorted syllable. What isn't, Jaskier wanted to joke in return, snicker a little at Geralt's frustration. But he couldn't, at least not without giving into opening his mouth, and besides, Geralt was already in a bad mood. Instead, he shrugged, a turn of phrase about tables that turned flitting through his thoughts, and he surely felt like he was on a turning table, not that any tables Jaskier had ever seen were exactly known for turning.

"Is it your throat?" It was a reasonable line of thought for Geralt to stroll down, to be fair, considering the whole thing with the djinn. Gods, how he wished he had a djinn right now, less-than-stellar experience aside. If he had one, there'd be none of that bloody Valdo Marx bullshit; no, instead the forest wouldn't spin anymore, his brain and tongue would cooperate, and Geralt would be in a good mood.

Jaskier really was doing a shit job of uplifting Geralt's spirits, wasn't he? At the very least, he'd managed to tease out the source of his foul temper; at present, it was Jaskier himself. He risked a peek out into the world again, found concerned amber eyes tucked under a tight scowl tilting like a leaf in the wind, and promptly squeezed them shut again. Oh, yeah. Geralt had asked him a question— what was it? Ah, it was gone now, too late. He shook his head, hoping he was actually answering. This was a mistake, because it sent stars erupting in the darkness and an unbidden groan worming its way past his lips.

"What, Jaskier?" Geralt sounded even more exasperated, if such a thing were possible, and Jaskier flung a hand up to press over his mouth, as if that might help whatsoever; it didn't.

"No— fuck, I'm—" In one clumsy motion he managed to tear himself back and away from Geralt, jerk to the side, and stumble over his own two feet and onto his knees just in time to escape vomiting on Geralt's boots. That was good; vomit on his boots would've really pissed him off. The weathered hand that had earlier cupped his chin (Jaskier could still feel the ghost of it on his skin) came to sit heavy between his shoulder blades. This touch not even Jaskier could make feel gentle.

"Okay," Geralt hummed, somewhere to his side. "Alright, okay." Was this Geralt's attempt at being soothing? How Jaskier wished he could tell him he appreciated it; maybe later, when his stomach wasn't still bucking uncooperatively like a spooked horse. This was funny, too; Roach in his stomach, kicking and snorting, but Jaskier was beginning to get tired of silly tangents.

Come to think of it, Jaskier was just tired, his limbs suddenly heavy, pounding in his skull coming into sharp focus. The hand migrated up to his collar, no doubt to tug him back upright, but he wrenched free and let himself drop to the dirt before Geralt had the chance. A nap sounded absolutely divine at the moment, and he was beginning to think he couldn't care less whether the witcher stuck around to wait it out or not. (This last detail was, patently, an absolute lie, and Jaskier knew it full well even as the thought first pattered into his consciousnesses.)

Geralt rolled him over, flipped him on his side, and this was both a small mercy (he hadn't been abandoned) and a horrendous blight (the sun glaring directly into his eyes, even as he pressed a clumsy hand to cover them again.) Another callused hand swiped across his forehead, his cheek, made its way down his neck and pried back his doublet. Jaskier wasn't sure what Geralt was looking for, and he also didn't particularly think he'd find it, whatever it was.

"There's no fever," Geralt announced, as if this were some grand discovery, a breakthrough in medical sciences. "Something you ate?" Ah, so now Geralt was playing detective, and Jaskier had all but given up on his case; another reversal of roles. Well, maybe at the very least Jaskier could give him better clues, or at least try.

"Head," he groaned, rolling back onto his side, cool dirt not unpleasant against his skin. This time, no hands tugged at him, but instead Geralt gave a soft hum, barely distinguishable from the ringing in his ears. "Hurts," he tacked on because, while it might've been implied, with Geralt it never hurt to be explicit.

"Now we're getting somewhere." That thrice-damned hand returned again, worked its way through his hair, dragging along every bump and curve until he scuffed against a half-healed scab and a sharp pain ricocheted through Jaskier's skull. He recoiled, writhing for a moment before curling even tighter into himself. "When did you hit your head?" That was a good question, because Jaskier wasn't all too sure anymore if he even had.

"Dunno," he mumbled. Now if only Geralt could put a pause to the interrogation so he might be afforded the small mercy of dying in peace. “River?”

"Helpful." Footsteps, echoing through the dirt and drilling through his head with each heavy footfall, further and further and further away until he could only feel, not hear, them. This was fine. Not the end he felt truly befit a heroic bard of his renown, but humble enough to satisfy him nonetheless. Just him and the trees as he returned to the earth from whence he was borne.

Then those blasted footsteps returned, those hands hoisted him, and he was face-first on the scratchy wool of his bedroll. He nuzzled against it, like a cat (he really needed to ask Geralt for the name of that cat witcher his brother knew).

"You have a concussion." A light flickered to life somewhere in his brain at this revelation. One of his grand mysteries, finally come to its disappointingly anticlimactic conclusion. He still didn't know why Geralt had been in such a piss-poor mood, but he decided that was a puzzle for another time, letting his breath even out with impending sleep.

"Jaskier, I need to know you understand me, okay?" As soft as his words were, Jaskier couldn't help but find it incredibly rude of him to interrupt his much-needed and well-deserved rest. If he kept pushing it, Jaskier thought, perhaps Geralt would be having to solve the mystery of why he was grumpy.

"Mmm, okay." This earned him another pat on the shoulder, as gentle a touch as anything Jaskier could ever hope for.

"I'll need to wake you periodically to make sure you don't lose what little wit you have," Geralt informed him, "but you can rest now." He felt like a sinking ship, overcome with warmth. Loose-limbed and giddy, he jutted out a clumsy hand and flailed blindly until it flopped against Geralt's arm, and he latched on. "Just tell me next time you hit your head."

"Thank you," he managed to get out on the tail end of a breath, slurred with exhaustion, disappointed when the witcher carefully extracted his wrist from his grip. A blanket settled on top of him, and he fumbled to tug it closer.

"Just sleep." Needing no convincing, Jaskier did as he was told. And in his dreams, Geralt was in a good mood, and he could still feel the ghost of his hand on that patch of skin on his chin.

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandelion #bad things happen bingo #jaskier whump #concussion #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #brasskier does bthb

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jjmaybanksblog · 4 years

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Stress Release- John B

(Not my gif, credit for whoever created it!)

Summary: Friends with benefits; Two friends who trust each other enough to engage in sexual activity without fear of hurting the other's feelings.

Word count: 1,912

Warnings: Mentions fwb, sex, and underage drinking.

You rested on your stomach, textbook in front of you as John B joined your side. You two had been chosen to be partners for a Chemistry class project, but neither of you two had actually paid enough attention to figure out what you two we're doing.

You guys sat in silence for a minute before you exhaled loudly. "What's with the sigh?" You ground loudly, flipping yourself over and laying on your back.

"It's my senior year. I should be out in the world not giving a single fuck about anything, but I'm stressed out of my mind and I have no clue how to get rid of it." You ranted, grabbing the nearest pillow and screaming into it. John B looked at you with a confused look. "What? I'm a screamer. Not sexually, just at life in general." "I can make that sexually." He said, earning a smack from the pillow.

"Therapy?" "Tried." "Painting?" "Tried." "Going to the gym?" "Ha! You're fucking funny." John B remained quiet for a second before coming up with something. "Have you tried just hooking up with someone? You know, like a friends with benefits type thing."

Your head snapped up from it's spot as you stared at the boy with a dumbfounded look. "I'm sorry?" "Well it's just, if you need to release tension, shit like that helps a lot." John B said as he suddenly felt idiotic for bringing the idea up. You sat there for a moment, trying to process his words. "Okay but even if I wanted to I don't know who would even want to."

John B's index finger pointed to his face as you observed his gesture. "Really?and why would you want to be friends with benefits?" "I get stressed too, I help you out, you help me out." You considered his offer for a moment before agreeing on his idea.

"Okay. But we have to make a guideline." You negotiated, ripping out a piece of paper from the notebook. Now it was John B's turn to roll his eyes.

"First rule, we do not tell a single soul about this." You said, grabbing your pen and scribbling the words down. "Okay, okay. Second rule, we call each other whenever we need a release. Whenever and wherever." "No hooking up with anyone else unless either of us get

a boyfriend/girlfriend." He thought aloud.

You nodded your head, writing his words down quickly. "And the last one," you two looked at each other as you spoke in unison, "no feelings." You held the pen out towards him, giving you a questioning look. "What? We gotta make this shit official."

John B let out a chuckle as he took the pen from your hand and scribbled his name. Returning the pen to you, he adjusted himself so he was resting against the headboard. You quickly signed it, closing the notebook shut.

John B sighed softly before looking at youm "You stressed?" You quickly rose up from your spot, your legs resting on both sides of him as you straddled his lap. "You have no idea." His hands trailed up your back, one hand staying on your thigh and gently rubbing it. The other was wrapped tightly around your waist.

Your lips met halfway, he sighed in relief at the feeling of someone else's lips. The kiss was fierce and rushed, both of you wasting no time in getting your stress out.

_________________

You guys had this 'relationship' going for the last 5 months. Almost every other day you called each other. It was an odd thing for you to do. You had done it before in the past, but sex with John B was something else. There were nights where the type would change, he would take control for most of the time. Angry sex, sex in the living room, car sex, anything he wanted to do, you two did.

However, as time went on the feelings John B had began to change. He wanted to spend more time with you, and not just hook up. He wanted to find out more things about you, watch movies with you, be able to kiss you in public whenever he wanted. The at first sloppy sex slowly morphed into passionate sex. He noticed and it scared him shitless. He loved every moment he spent with you and he didn't want that to change.

He was mad at himself. That was the third rule and he broke it. He never expected it to happen, but when it did it slapped him right across the face.

You two were lying there naked, sheets covering your bare chests. You were fast asleep, your body facing him. He took in the tiny details about you, everything that he could. How sometimes your eyelashes flutter. How you'll snore sometimes. How he rests his hand on your cheek and you unknowingly lean into his touch. He buried this hole too deep and he can't get out.

You both were currently at your friend Angela's party, drunk teens were horribly dancing in the living room, couples were hooking up in the bedrooms and bathrooms. John B was drinking a shot of vodka as he saw you walk by, a red plastic solo cup in your hand. "Hey Routledge!" You winked at the boy who shyly drank from his cup.

A classmate of his walked up to John B, "Hey, what's with you and that Y/L/N chick?" The boy asked, nudging John B's shoulders. He smirked at his classmate leaning closer to him, "we're friends with benefits!" John B exclaimed, clearly tipsy and not knowing the words that are spilling out of his mouth.

The classmate smirked at the intoxicated teen, giving JB a high five, congratulating him. You were out in the backyard enjoying the night sky with Sarah Cameron.you two were laughing after watching someone run and fall into the pool.

The fun was quickly ruined as the classmate stood in front of you guys. "So Y/N, I heard you help release stress from my good old friend John B. How about you help me out?" Your face dropped in shock, the cup falling from your hand. "I'm sorry?" You asked, pretending not to understand what he was talking about.

"Oh yeah. But real shit, whenever I need something I'll give you a call." The boy sent you a wink before licking his lower lip and walking away. You stared at the ground in shock. "Are you okay?" "I don't know how to answer that." You admitted.

You stomped out of the backyard and out of the house. Stares, comments and giggles were all you noticed as you made your way through the crowded rooms. Making way to your car, you opened the door and slammed it shut. Your fists pounded down onto the steering wheel, accidentally punching the horn. You crossed your arms and leaned against the wheel. Your head fell against your arms as tears stung your eyes. You were furious at John B, but you were also angry with yourself.

During the time you had been sleeping with John B, you also began to realize how your heart would race a mile a minute with him, even before the physical contact. You had been trying to deny the feelings, 'it's just sex' you repeated to yourself over and over after every session. But to you it was something else, and that scared you.

You sped down down the road, the lights blurring from the tears, your cheeks and nose a shade of pink. Your breathing was uneven as you hicupped every now and then. Returning home, you quickly changed out of your clothes into pajamas and laid in bed. That night was the last time you and John B had an interaction for a whole month.

He would call you, but you'd let the answering machine pick up. You'd swerve him when you walked by him in the halls, catching his eye then turning around to walk the other way.

You wanted to distance yourself as much as you could. John B tried his best to apologize after his classmate reminded him that he told your secret that night at the party. He felt absolutely destroyed hearing the rumors that were spreading about you, about you both, he hated it.

Your eyes were sealed shut as you attempted to let sleep overtake your body. It was finally Friday and you just wanted to sleep for 12 hours. The sound of rain hitting your window sounded like heaven to your ears, just pure silence except for that one noise.

A soft tapping sound echoed off the window. Knowing it wasn't rain, you hesitantly opened your eyes to see John Booker Routledge holding himself as he stood in your backyard, in the pouring rain. His hair was plastered down onto his face. His clothes clung to his body. His eyes were squinted shut in hopes to not get too much water in them.

You quickly got up and pulled him through the window harshly, making him fall to the ground. His skin made a loud slapping noise as he made contact with the hardwood floor. You sighed, rubbing your forehead with the palm of your hand. "Hold on." You quickly went out of the room and walked back in with a towel. You handed it to him as you sat on the bad, John B standing there as he attempted to dry off.

"Look this isn't a guilt-trip. I just genuinely want to know if you dislike me so I can stop bothering you." He started, the towel running through his hair, drops of water flying everywhere. You sighed loudly and pitched the bridge of your nose. "I don't hate or dislike you. I hate that you spilled what we were to what's his face at the party. Do you know how many phone calls I've gotten of guys asking me to hook up with them? 24."

"What we were?" John B asked softly. "You broke your promise, you can't come back from that." You huffed, your eyes not leaving the floor. "It was just a fling." He lied, not only to you but to himself. "Not to me it wasn't." Your voice was just above a whisper.

"What?"

"Throughout the last few months things felt different. It was really fucking weird to think about, but my heart would always just... race when we spent time together. I wanted things to just be more than a fling. But I figured you just wanted it to be just that thing since you came up with the idea." you admitted. He lightly chuckled as he bent down to be face to face with you.

"Princess. I walked here to you in the rain. This is how much I love you. This," he pointed his finger between you two, "I want more than a fling. I want to be able to just walk around with you on my arm and just give you all the fucking affection I can give. And I'm sorry about the calls. I'll make sure people get the notice to-" you cut him off by quickly pressing your lips against his.

He exhaled loudly, your skin suddenly felt as if it were burning. "God I missed you." He mumbled against your lips as his thumb stroked your cheek. "Show me how much you missed me." You whispered, pulling the boy onto the bed.

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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 4 years

Text

The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (4/?)

A/N: Not only is this a long chapter, but I found a way to incorporate a prompt given to me by @hoodoo12 almost two years ago I think. Also, @twenties-sweetheart I incorporated what led the reader and Zeta-7 dating. This fic is almost done. I think there's only one or two chapters left. Hope you guys enjoy!

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

_________

Chapter 4 : Your Answer

You remembered when you didn't love him; a time when you had hoped he'd be a father figure and a friend who you could play card games with on Tuesdays. You used to not know him; though once you did there was no turning back. You used to not need him, but you didn't know how you couldn't. It used to be a simple crush, but he already loved you from the start.

Perhaps, you had always known, but you didn't want to see it; you had wanted to know, but your brain at times didn't want to believe it. You thought words like his were meant for fairy princesses who lived in high towers above the heavens, for royals and the knights who attended to them; for anyone else….except you. It just didn't seem possible that this man could want you, but he did and explained for the last half hour as to why.

“That’s...that’s amazing!” you exclaimed despite yourself. “You really feel that way about me?”

He nodded, his face still flushed. “I do...I-I-I love you. Do you,” he gulped. “do y-you love me?”

Of course you did, you had said so a few times already, but he was going to need a better explanation; to be reminded continually. You screwed your mouth to the side, wondering how you could put it delicately. “Well…there's too much to say, and I know it would never be enough, but I can try. Oh, and if I start to wax poetic, then let's just say it's the writer in me trying to get out. Ricardo,” you paused, encouraging him to sit down because the poor man looked ready to shake out of his skin. “what I feel is beyond love; it's our souls dancing and singing in the night, moonlit kisses, and disappearing during daybreak. Why it's not even serendipitous, but a luxurious splendor you shower me in, day in and day out, with breaks which threaten to tear me into bits and madden me. It's an adventure," he perked up at this; it was familiar territory. "with discoveries and revelations that nip at my inward parts, and pains me with equal parts desperation, fear, and gladness." Caressing his lips with your fingertips, he sighed happily." You fill my mouth with bliss, working peace along the curve of my cheek, and color my world with mystical, intelligent sayings. Ineffable creature, your veracity; how you express yourself so honestly, I'm surprised the whole world hasn't fallen in love with you. Though, I'm glad you reserved yourself just for me.”

Placing a kiss behind his ear, he made a funny noise, but you continued. “To say I love you my dear Zeta-7 isn't enough, for you are as much of myself as I am of you. Like I've said before, I'll remind you as much as you need me to.”

“H-h-h-h-how do you know? When - when was it that y-y-you started to see me differently?”

The question really struck you as odd considering it wasn't in any of his usual tones; he had seemed so sure of himself earlier, and now self-doubt peaked it's little head out. It was solemn, in a faraway voice, followed by a frown, and the deepening of the lines in his forehead. You stood up, seeing as he seemed upset, and he took this opportunity to go and make some tea; it was one of his coping mechanisms. Soon the scent of lavender filled the house; he returned and set down the cups carefully so as not to spill it.

“Oh,” he frowned; a bit tired from the emotional rollercoaster he had been in for most of the day. “I'm s-s-so sorry. If only I-I kept things simple, then it wouldn't have gotten so complicated.”

“It's okay,” you whispered. “we're both a little flustered. It….it really took a lot of courage to say what you had said earlier. So you shouldn't apologize for being human.”

“But I'm - I'm still so sorry.”

You moved your chair as close as you could, stretching out to work your fingers through his soft hair, and managed to find the beginnings of silver strands, but you said nothing of it. “You should have seen how you looked when you told me you loved me. You were so earnest and charming."

He reached out to take your hand and place it upon his heart. It was beating wildly, almost dangerously you thought. You waited until he calmed a little, and when the heavy blush and the redness of his ears softened, you knew that it was time. He really was too much, too good for you, too lovely, and you sincerely hoped you wouldn't offend him. “I hope you're ready, cause this really is going to be a long story. I think by telling it, it'll make my answer to your proposal more believable.”

________________

For years, you two had lived in the same town, in the same neighborhood, only houses away from each other. It was funny how you two hadn't met before, though Rick would later tell you it was because of his job. At the time, you would say you were old enough to know what heartbreak felt like, as well as what warmth and kindness should be; though you hadn't been in any sort of serious relationship. Like any woman your age, you had dreams of meeting someone, but for the most part, your love life wasn't first and foremost on your mind; you were busy trying to get through everyday.

So when you met Zeta-7, it never occurred to you how much he would someday come to mean to you; let alone how much your life would change. Now, it had taken a while, a little longer then you'd care to admit. It certainly wasn't love at first sight, for under the set of circumstances in which you two had met, Rick had come off as a friendly old man. But of course, after helping you carry groceries, a cup of tea, and a ukulele song, you warmed to him and became fast friends.

At first, you were hesitant in allowing him into your home; you'd seen enough Dateline to make you cautious. So, you two would meet on your porch on a regular basis, though it was not long before you felt safe enough to let him come over and repair small appliances; it was fascinating watching him tinker. And when he wasn't too busy, you'd go and see what he was doing in the garage. Perhaps you should have known then that he was different, but you had no point of comparison, and just went with it.

Sometimes, you two would just watch TV or have an occasional dinner at Shoney’s, or a late-night ice cream on your front porch. And you'd listen to his laughter; how his happy noises seemed to fill up the house. You were delighted by the nuances of his gentle voice, and at night, he'd tell about the stars, going into detailed explanations of constellations and about other heavenly bodies. It made you wonder what was out there, and it only fed your curiosity. You were comforted by his warm presence, thinking it was nice to have a father like figure around again, to fill up the time, and carry on long, meaningful conversations with. His eye for detail and selective word choice made most of your conversations laid back but stimulating.

Whether it was in your house, in his kitchen, or a quick cup of tea in the garage, he enjoyed sharing his homemade brews and you enjoyed drinking them. While at first glance he seemed simple, you took quick notice of his genteel manners, in the way he talked, in his general presence which you found was pleasing. It did not take long to notice that he was a learned man, with various degrees which hung in the left corner of his living room; he was actually a doctor in several meanings of the word. Perhaps in all meanings of the word.

Watching him mutter to himself, blissful, carefully piecing together a device that did who-knows-what filled him with joy. And you had always assumed that anyone above thirty-five - at least from what sense and sensibility told you - could not have any passion left, but you saw it every time he showed you a new invention; you saw him as he should be. As though he were this character who stepped off a page, you found yourself growing ever so curious about his thoughts, feelings, and machinations of his wonderful mind. You wanted to get close, to know him better, and he took this positively as you wanting to be best friends. And when he held you in his arms for the first time, you knew that he had ruined men for you. He wasn't supposed to feel so strong, and his arms weren't supposed to be sure, and hold you warmly, and most of all, there wasn't supposed to be a flutter.

Now having it formed in your mind that he was indeed a man, you could not smother your curiosity, though still, you tried to conceal it. It felt good to feel cared for again, and you didn't want to threaten it. Still, the affection you held for him was not the kind one felt for a parent. And your hopes and dreams were shattered, with this sudden, intense awareness of him, conscious of every breath he took, of his mobile features, recognized every nuance in his reflections.

All those times when you'd watch him dance in the kitchen, swaying about, more spritely than others your own age, you'd laugh, and he’d ask you to join him. And when your hands touched, it was like a current passed through you, and that giddiness would last all day. Those hands, which could create worlds, whisk a cream, or trace pictures in the sand, you could hold them in yours for eternity. Even longer, if what he spoke of at times was true.

If he had weeks where work kept him busy, he would call you, and you'd drop what you were doing to listen; he was always so excited to hear your voice; it lightened up your day. Or when he finally saw you after a few days, he'd greet you with a warm hug, and you'd return with equal enthusiasm. At times, you felt as though neither wanted to let go and held on to each other longer than what was platonically acceptable, but you'd pretend as though nothing happened, even if your heart was screaming. Why you'd almost lose yourself in his grasp.

As a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, you never felt as though there were any hidden agendas, or that he had a pervy attraction to you. On the contrary, you felt like the pervert for feeling all giddy and excited whenever he spoke with enthusiastic intelligence or showed you his experiments. There were times when you'd reach out and pat him on the back, telling him he had done such a good job, and he'd gift you with his winning smile, which caused unusual thoughts to cross your mind, and it messed you up. What was he to you?

Whether you were at home, or you sat in his home for a tea party, you knew something was the matter with you. You were a mess of feelings, of messy, happy, effervescent feelings, which you expressed in your work, in your writing. Harmless thoughts, which lingered and filled the contents of a novel. It was the story of a young woman who had fallen in love with her older, mute neighbor. In your head, you reasoned that your character was nothing like him, that the older man, as brilliant as he was in mathematics, science, and botany, who expressed himself through his actions, and kindness was made up. Perhaps your readers thought the same, but the modest ebook sales only reinforced that maybe there was something to it.

Missed glances, brief moments where you touched, awkward laughs, and a heart heavy feeling sitting on your chest; he was always on your mind. In between your issues, when you were doubtful, he'd reassure you of your capabilities, and when he felt lacking, you'd remind him of his genius. And while there were many moments which had been lovable, which were dear to you, you replayed the times that were nearest to your ideals; of what fits into your daydreams. You're not sure when, but it had been you who started to flirt regularly, and watch him blush, stammer, and get flustered; it gave you an odd thrill knowing it had been you who had caused him to feel as such, but then it would trouble you all the more. It wasn't fair to him, and you weren't helping your cause.

What were you doing, trying to toy with the feelings of an old, lonely man, who had little in the world, but your friendship and a few possessions; it filled your heart with grief. You didn't want to hurt him, you just wanted him to think you were beautiful, smart, funny, and well everything you'd want your crush to feel. If you were unhappy, he'd cheer you up with gifts, desserts, and his generous affection. For the most part, you knew his intentions were honorable, but in your head, you'd hope differently.

It could not work, he was so much older than yourself; not that you cared. For all you knew you were like the daughter he never had. In your heart, you tried to resolve that all you felt was friendship, but then he'd smile, laugh, or be kind to you and you were falling apart. You weren't a kitten, you had always liked men your own age, but you didn't just like him, you were intoxicated by him.

He wasn't even handsome. Well…at first, you didn't think so. You did however find him strangely adorable, and lovely. He was tall and slender, so he wore clothes well. Very gentle and nice, clean-shaven, with abundant blue hair, with the exception of the few strands which choose to be rebellious, prominent buck teeth which gave him a childish innocence, but straightforward, electric blue eyes which reminded you otherwise.

Your eyes would follow him as he moved about the room. Rick had long lashes for a man and was just as impressive overall, and intelligence was even more so. Could anything possibly stop him? Death perhaps, though Zeta-7 didn't care to admit how age played a big role in his energy levels at times, but you knew it was to be expected. You knew what you were getting yourself into when it came to dating someone so much older than yourself; if he'd consider it that is. For hours, he somehow kept up with your foolishness, and you barely managed to follow his genius.

You'd follow if he asked you to come, and in time you knew you were his. You felt loyalty to him, the kind which you knew you'd never revoke. You thought at first that it was his personable nature which had endeared you to him, but it was everything. He was everything.

Zeta-7 had always been affectionate, but not in the way which made you worry. You craved it, his attention, his affection, and wished to be closer than woven gossamer, and took everything he was willing to give you. You were not in love, you would tell yourself, it was merely infatuation. He was simply a cheerful grandpa kind of man, whose arms you would melt in, whose gentle, and generous affection you were greedy for. You were selfish, that was simply it.

Then came the defining moment, which happened one night while you two were cooking together. You needed a few cloves of garlic to chop for the eggplant lasagna, and he just kept handing you cloves. You told him you had enough, and he smiled warmly, telling you there could never be enough garlic and you stopped. You two stared at each other for what seemed like hours even though only seconds passed. It was as though you had come to an understanding.

His winning smile had been the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, his eyes captured you, and you knew for a fact that what you felt was something greater than friendship. The rest of the evening you found yourself in a daze, and hesitant to be near him. In your heart, your feelings felt as though it were almost forbidden, as though you shouldn't feel this way for someone who was a great friend. You blamed these feelings on your own impatience, inexperienced like the man before you. Yeah, you wanted his attention, and he had been attentive. Everyday he made sure your emotional needs were met, he'd probably do just about anything if you asked him to, but you were scared, perhaps just as afraid as he was. Still, the words themselves were an enigma, they burned, they toiled, begging to be said, but you were afraid. Yet, you searched his face, and found the answer; you were falling in love with him.

His sing-song voice twisting and curling about you. You wouldn't risk it you told yourself, but before you went to bed that night he called you and apologized if he had offended you. “No”, you had said, “I'm just not feeling well, but I'll be fine. I promise, I'm going to be okay, so you don't have to worry about me.”

“I-I-I can't help it, I care about you.” was his sincere reply.

Those dizzying warm feelings of affection bubbled and boiled, and you did your best to try to repress them. As usual, he wanted to help you feel better, but you were afraid it would ruin things; you'd rather hurt yourself, then hurt him, and never see him again. For the next week, you thought long and hard, and the next time you two met, you were sitting in his home for afternoon tea, and you told him of how you felt right out of the blue. “Rick, I like you.”

Being the dear man he was, he thought you were talking in platonic terms. “Gosh, really? Well, that's why I'm - why I'm glad we're best friends.”

“No,” you sighed. “that's not what I meant.” You watched as his smile turned to fear, but you continued. “I know you're much older then I am, and you probably see me as some kid, but I'm a grown woman, with adult feelings. And for a while, I thought it was nothing, but I can't ignore it anymore. I care about you as my friend and I understand if you don't want that to change, but I see you as a man, and I hope you realize that I like you so much. There's nothing you can say which will change it because I don't want to change these feelings of mine. I'm not saying this to make fun of you, or because I'm lonely, but to let you know that I like you and that I'm not ashamed.”

So what if you were a kitten, you cared about him, and you knew that if he were to let you down, he would be gentle about it. The sweet, kind man that he was, gently, and carefully placed a shaky hand upon yours and gave it a squeeze. And he cried, “Gosh, you - you don't know how relieved I am. I-I-I thought I was a pervert for-for feeling the way I had.”

“Wait, you….you like me too?”

He groaned, as though he were in pain, and studied you before he continued. “I-I-I don't understand, I'm - I'm so old and gross, and y-you are like a freshly bloomed rose. H-h-h-h-how…..w-w-why?”

You reassured him, taking his hand in yours, rubbing your face into his shaky palm. “Because I just do.”

When he calmed, he looked at you with such affection, and the soft look he gave you made your breath caught. He was in love with you. Even back then, his feelings had been greater, but you dared not believe it. How could you believe it?

Your kind, gentle friend had won you over with such kindness and attracted you with a tender heart. When did you know? In moments when you saw him, not the old man, but of the softness, the beauty of an intriguing mind, and of winsome determination to be happy and to help you be happy too. You held each other so tight, you felt as though you were bound together.

He held you with a strength you did not realize one his age even still had. This was a time before kisses, before great declarations. It was a time to feel, to learn, to hold one another in a soul-crushing embrace. His heartbeat was alarmingly fast, and there had been something almost boyish in the way he placed a tress of hair behind your ear. You were the first to admit your feelings, but he had been the first to ask. A nervous chuckle escaped him, and a little lip-bite followed. “I-I am quite fond of you, and seeing that we - that our feelings are mutual, would - will you…will y-y-you go steady with me?”

As archaic as the terms might have been, it was still charming, and being the kind of man he was, you knew he meant it, and that there was only one way to answer. “Yes, I'd love to.”

Of course, you would go out with him. And forever, that memory would be etched upon your soul.

________

With wide eyes, he remembered how ashamed he had felt. He sat up, ready to shield his face, but you held your arms open. Like back then, you held each other in a soul-crushing embrace. “Do you understand now, my dear, dear friend? There was no way it could have been anyone else. Like a tree planted by streams of water, I've flourished under your attentions. You see me…. you see what I am, as I am. We make each other happy, every day, all the time.”

You two were not wary strangers; passersbys in one another's narratives; not in this instance at least. Neither were you two butterflies emerging from cocoons; descendants of lovers found in a field of barley; discovering and reveling in springtime gusts and gales. No, you were not beautiful like alabaster apples on a ledge; nor figments of one's imagination. You were, however, on the cusp of change; this was the rest of it; the continuation of what had been attempted two years ago; it was nothing like how you thought it would be, but the expectancy of the moment was palpable nonetheless. For your part, you admired the lovely scarlet coloring which crept up his neck and tinged the top of his ears; how becoming it was as well as boyish. And if it weren't already obvious, you didn't need time to think of a reply, and with clear purpose, you answered. "And dear, well, we are still friends. We're best friends. The sweetest, dearest friends that anyone could ever have, except that we love one another. Oh, I do want to. I will marry you."

Oh, whatever future there might've been destined for him, you altered its course by your acceptance of his proposal. Unlike the nihilistic view where no one had a choice, and what had been written was set in stone and that nothing mattered, you decided would not be so. In partaking in this agreement, you had taken on the consequences of what might occur in connection with Rick's work life. You had also taken on the responsibility of what you'd have to do once Rick surpassed the ability to mechanize himself any further than he already had. Still, you could live with this new burden because you were no stranger to heartache and had to make the best of what you two had; love made you do it; unbidden joy was your reward.

Tbc

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