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thecreelhouse · 4 months

Text

part time soulmate, full time problem

Paring: Gator Tillman x Alt Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns) || MDNI!

Summary: While you and Gator brace yourselves for your inevitable departure in two days, feelings threaten to break the surface for both of you. Amidst that, your families come home unexpectedly, and the past comes back to throw one last punch your way.

Word count: 6.3k

CW/Tags: PTSD, domestic/familial abuse (physical and emotional), violence and descriptions of violence, brief weight mention/fatphobia, gun mention, misogyny, alcoholism, death mention, dissociation, no smut this chapter (sry y’all!!), hurt/comfort, fluff

Series Masterlist // Read on AO3

A/N: I realized when I finished writing this chapter I can’t remember if it was mentioned in the show if Gator lived on his own or not, so if it’s not canon, whoops lol. Please take all of the tags into consideration before reading. If any of this is upsetting to you and you need to skip this one, I completely understand. Take care of yourselves first babes!! Next chapter will be back to the filth lol promise, and it only goes up from here. Thank you again for all the support on this series on here and AO3 🫶🏻

Day 8

It takes five whole days for the snowstorm to end. With your face pressed up against the window, you can’t believe your eyes, fogging up the glass with your breath.

“Am I dreaming? Do you see this?” Your fingers are splayed on the frigid cold glass, tingling over the temperature contrast.

Gator tiredly shuffles up behind you, “No, ‘cause your big head’s in the way, freak.” His arms slide around your hips while he rests his chin on the top of your head.

“Why is your chin so boney? Quit stabbin’ my head with it, jerk.” You reach back to his face, shoving your now freezing hands on his cheeks; Gator yelps at the sharp cold touch.

“Get your corpse hands offa’ me,” He grumbles, large hands grabbing yours and pinning them to your sides. “Can ya’ at least let me wake up fully before you start misbehavin’?”

“The sun’s out!” You’re ignoring his grumpiness, thrilled the snow is finally done burying the two of you alive in this house. There’s also a weird, subtle pang in your heart that being snowed in together is coming to an end. You kind of liked being in your own little corner of the world with Gator, even if you almost killed each other at first, while visiting home, also your least favorite place in the world.

“I gotta call someone to clear the driveway.” He draws off his vape, blowing it over your head. A fluffy, thick cloud hits the window, blocking your view. “No way in hell either of us are shoveling any of that by hand.” You want to tease him for having his vape on hand shortly after getting up, but you realize it’s not a good time for teasing. Gator’s mind is elsewhere as he lets go of you; you catch on to his moodiness, realizing it’s more than just trying to wake up.

Spinning around to face him, you let your backside rest against the window sill.

“Hey, you doin’ alright?” You glance up to see him fixated on something, or maybe nothing, outside, brows drawing together while he’s lost in thought. “Gator?”

He can’t bring his eyes to meet yours, void of any expression. Leaning forward, your hand slips into his, softly lacing your fingers between his, while your thumb strokes along his hand.

“You have to go back soon, don’t you?”

You’ve been desperately trying to avoid this conversation, but you can’t push it off any longer. It’s not fair to Gator. It’s not fair to you.

“T- two days… I was kinda wishin’ the flight would be canceled because of the storm… but that’s— that’s just my luck, I guess,” You stutter, quickly following with forced optimism. “But we have two whole days together! It’s better than nothing.”

“Was kinda wishin’ for that too, darlin’.” Gator murmurs, finally peering down at you. There’s a rare, vulnerable sadness in his eyes, and that sadness is infectious as hell; you don’t even fight the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Jesus, this was easier to think about when we hated each other a week ago.” You’re cracking a joke to lighten the mood, but neither of you crack a smile or even force a laugh at the comment.

Gator steps closer, releasing your hand to cradle your face in his hands; the motion forces you to really look him in the eye, but he’s blurry through your tears. He lightly kisses your forehead and doesn’t pull back. Your arms enclose around him with little grace, hoping if you hold on tight enough, neither of you have to leave this week, or even this moment, behind.

“If I’m bein’ honest…” His voice crumbles, throat drying up as he holds back his own tears. “…we never hated each other, did we?”

You shake your head before hiding your face in his shoulder, “Never did. Not really. I was just angry.”

“Yeah, but you had every right to be. You still do.” Gator’s well aware that the wound hasn’t fully healed, and this past week was only a heavy duty bandaid slapped on top. He’d understand if you never fully forgave him, or never fully trusted him again.

“You’re not as awful as you think you are, Gator. You… you were pretty rotten… but you’re not that person anymore.”

“I’m tryin’ not to be. Still got a long way to go.”

“That’s all you can and should do. Just shows you want to be a better version of yourself. You deserve another chance, you deserve to be l—“

You bite your tongue before the big, scary ‘L’ word can sneak out, and redirect.

“I think trying is brave. Admitting your past self wasn’t who you should’ve been, making efforts to change that, even small changes, it’s big. It’s really fucking big. It’s scary, but I believe in you. You never completely lost your true self, it was buried by all the shit you’ve been through.”

While appreciative of your encouragement, he shakes his head, “That’s not an excuse, though.”

“You’re right. But it explains it. I think it’s still important to acknowledge it. Nothing changes until you acknowledge the truth of things.”

“Fuckin-a…” Gator’s at a loss for words. He knows you’ve been through a lot of shit too. The both of you have, with a lot of parallels in the suffering you had both endured. Yet you turned your pain into something more for yourself, and Gator just… pushed his pain aside. Ignored it, as if it’d disappear on its own someday.

You knew he never had a choice, though. Not under this roof. Not with that fuckin’ terrible excuse of a father. Even when he became old enough to know better, it couldn’t have been easy to watch everyone and everything change for the better while stuck in this godforsaken, hollow place. He gets why you moved. There was no hope here. Not really for anyone.

It wasn’t that you thought every person had to have a big, adventurous move halfway across the country to grow as a human being, but there’s truths everyone has to face at some point, or you drag them behind you like a ball and chain until your leg snaps.

None of the abuse Gator survived was an excuse for who he was shaped into, but nothing can change without addressing the root cause head-on.

“I hate this place. I hate what it’s done to us both. I hate the bitterness we were both raised under, the fucked up values and beliefs… and speaking of, how the hell did our parents allow us to have sleepovers as kids?” You can’t help getting sidetracked, and it pulls a soft chuckle from Gator.

“You really are still a pro at distracting yourself.”

“Listen, my brain likes to try to jump ten steps ahead of my mouth, but then it just kinda trips and tumbles and—“

Like a familiar routine at this point, Gator cuts you off with a kiss, sickeningly sweet with whatever artificial fruity flavor he just inhaled, just as clumsy and heartfelt as all the others before. Usually, by now, you’d smile with his lips on yours, but all you can think of is how much you’re gonna miss the familiarity of his quirks that you’ve grown to love so quickly.

Fuck. There’s that word again.

Gator pulls back to answer your question, “There’s a reason we stopped havin’ sleepovers as kids, y’know.”

“What? Why?” You tilt your head in confusion. Gator laughs and looks away.

“Pretty sure your ma’ called my mom when ya’ started your period.” He snorts, face turning red. Your jaw drops.

“No way?! That was the reason?”

His eyes squint shut as he laughs harder, nodding as his head leans forward to rest against yours. “They thought we’d try to fuck around I guess, worried we’d be ‘tempted by the devil’ or whatever.” He’s laughing in between his words as he reminisces about the ridiculous logic, if it could even be called that. “I overheard the conversation and kinda connected the dots.”

“Oh my god, I was thirteen! I was still playing with dolls! I didn’t even know why periods were a thing. I still thought babies came from the stork!” You’re almost bothered finding this out so much later in life, but Gator’s laughter is always contagious to you; you let the annoyance go, noting how it’s only further proof the two of you had parents that believed in the most outlandish nonsense.

“Wait, you still believed the stork was a thing at thirteen?”

“….. Maybe.”

“Now look at ya’, you’re the one corrupting me.”

“Hey, it takes two to tango, freak.” You taunt back, grabbing the vape from his hands. “Haven’t seen this in a lil’ while, I’m surprised.”

“My mouth’s been busy with… other things lately.” He smirks as you roll your eyes, shoving the vape in his hands. He also pays no mind to the way you use his insult- now a weirdly endearing term- back at him. Again he inhales the nauseating sugary flavor, blowing it in your face like a dick. “Well, they didn’t do a very good job at keepin’ us pure, huh?”

You go to grab the vape back, but he simply holds it high above your head. “I’m gonna take that damn thing and throw it into the fuckin’ snow.”

“Yeah, alright, if you can even reach it from down there.” He’s twirling it between his fingers, waggling his brows at you. “You need a step stool?”

“I ain’t even that short, asshole.” You grumble, relaxing back against the window sill, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m just shorter than you, and it’s only a few inches.

“Says every short person ever.” His playful comment is met with you flipping him off before moving on.

“Y’know, I can’t even be surprised about this whole thing about the sleepovers. Ma’ wouldn’t buy me tampons, only pads. She thought even that was too sinful.” You’re sputtering out the words with giggles, realizing how bonkers this all sounds out loud.

“We really had fucked up families.” He jokes, grimacing. “But I’m glad they made us hang out all the fuckin’ time.”

“We still have fucked up families.” You quip, but you watch Gator’s smile fade quickly. The laughter dissolves with it. You know exactly what’s on his mind, so you’re concerned, but cautious to ask, “You still miss her?”

You knew only that his mother, Linda, “disappeared”, leaving him behind as a kid. You were only aware of the small details of hell Roy put Nadine through, and how badly that fucked up Gator even more. And you’d have to be blind as a bat to not notice the way he’s numb to Karen’s existence in the family.

He forces a sigh out, shrugging it off. “It’s— it’s still hard to talk ‘bout.” He’s contemplating if he should talk about any of it, and if he did, where the hell he would even begin.

“Hey, it’s okay. No pressure. If you ever do wanna talk about any of that… or anything… you know I’m here for you.” Your arms envelope around him, giving a reassuring hug. “If, and when, you’re ready, I’m here. Always.”

Gator hugs back, tighter than your grip; it’s his response to your kind words, and you don’t push for anything further, and he’s grateful for that. Hand in hand, his calloused, slightly wind-bitten skin is another comforting familiarity to you as he pulls you towards the door.

“C’mon, freak, let’s find someone with a stupid fuckin’ snow plow and make breakfast before ya’ corrupt me further.” He looks back at you, with that signature, smug smirk you’ve grown to love.

There’s no denying it anymore. It’s love.

And you’re terrified.

———

The sunshine reflects off the snow, creating that whimsical, sparkly look over its smoothed over surface. But god damn, is it blinding.

Insisting you needed to learn about gun safety before ever even touching a gun, Gator drags you out into the frigid outdoors to try some target practice out in a field.

You’re bundled in multiple layers; leggings under your jeans, three pairs of socks in your boots, a cozy and worn hat you crocheted years ago with a matching scarf and mittens, and a combo of your leather jacket, Gator’s sweatshirt, and multiple shirts underneath. You’re still freezing, though, so you keep your hands pulled through the sleeves, holding them close to your body to keep them warm.

Gator’s in his bomber jacket, and usual, minimal layers— maybe just minimal to you, but you’re cold just looking at him— smirking at your get up. He’s wearing the neck warmer that you made him, though, blooming a certain kind of warmth and joy in your heart that he actually likes it.

Unfortunately, it’s not the kind of warmth that’ll actually keep you from freezing out here.

You glare behind your heart shaped sunglasses, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, shove it up your ass, Tillman.”

“You look like the kid from ‘A Christmas Story’, y’know, the one that can’t put his arms down—“

“Yeah, yeah, look who’s talkin’, Mr. ‘I wear 90s sport sunglasses only dads wear’.”

He whips them off his face, pointing to you with them. “Hey, watch it.”

“What? Ya’ gonna spank me for teasing you? Good luck through these layers.” You laugh, and Gator rolls his eyes in return, ignoring your comment before trudging on through the snow.

The snow barely melted, but the harsh winds smoothed it out to subtle, fluffy hills, only to feel crunchy when you step on them, boots falling through to the colder layers underneath. Somehow it makes the ranch look even more barren than usual. It’s like riding a bicycle, though, you never forget—

Except, you did. You forgot how to maneuver through any amount of snow larger than a foot, and you’re grumbling under your breath with annoyance that Gator dragged you out here, trying to lift your legs through the snow to walk properly.

You also forgot how to ride a bicycle, but that’s not important right now.

“Gator, I don’t wanna keep goin’, it’s cold.”

“It’s winter.”

“Really? I thought it was summer. I was actually hopin’ to go swimmin’.”

Gator sighs over your lazy sarcasm, continuing on with a few more crunchy steps, until he hears a faint, fluffy ‘thud’ behind him. Sucking in a breath to try and stop an inevitable snicker, he spins around to find you feet away, flopped over in a mound of snow, and— just your luck— face down. You roll over, pouting as snow speckled all over your face as it slowly melts against the heat of your body.

With frustration, you groan loudly, laying in the snow like a rag doll that’s given up. Backtracking, Gator looks down at you, smug as he mocks your pout with an over exaggerated one.

“You know what this is, right?” He’s referring to the air mattress incident.

Eyes narrowing at him, you grumble, “You and your karma can kiss my ass.” You flip him off with a bright red, painfully cold middle finger.

“Yeah? That a promise?”

“Gator.”

“Fine, c’mere,” He relents, standing over you and offers his hands out to you, waiting to pull you up. You reach back, but as his hands lock around yours, you use all your strength to pull him down into the snow with you. The loose, dusty snow puffs up and around him like confetti on impact. Landing face first, just as you did, he rolls over with a grunt, glaring at you. “You’re a pain in my ass, y’know that?”

Grinning, you quip back, “Like you aren’t one in mine?” Gator opens his mouth to respond, probably with some snarky comment, but it dies on his lips when he gets a better glimpse of you.

Gator can’t resist admiring how pretty you look, even if you’re bundled up like a comical marshmallow, face wet and cold from the snow. The way the early setting sun reflects off the snow, into your eyes, illuminating the color of them. How the tip of your nose is flushed from the cold, cheeks in the same shade to match; it still looks cute on you. You’re panting, trying to catch your breath in the thin, winter air, but you’re still grinning like a dork at him, and he catches his own like a bad cold, hitting hard and all at once.

Your eyes are glued to his face, admiring the way his cheeks are tinted in the most subtle shade of red, thanks to the winter wind. How soft his smile is when he’s not being a smug little bastard, with lips chapped— I’m getting him some goddamn chapstick— and the bonus of the wound on his bottom lip from yesterday. All the little freckles and moles scattered across his skin, almost like little constellations you’re tempted to trace out. How the sun reflecting off the snow illuminates his eyes, too, adding an extra glow to his already warm eyes, brown and soft with flecks of hazel in them.

There’s no questioning it. No denial. You’re in love with Gator, the once gangly, awkward little kid you grew up with, now handsome and strong; a bit rugged around the edges while still secretly carrying a soft, heavy heart, filled with more kindness than he likes to believe. It terrifies you, to be in love with anyone, let alone your childhood best friend who ended up your enemy for years; when you came home, this was never even a thought that crossed your mind.

You didn’t even realize you still felt deeply for him, not even when you were crocheting a gift for him, not even when you were plucking glass and ceramic shards from his knees, and certainly not even when he took care of you after fucking around for the first time.

Maybe there was nothing to realize when it was there all along.

He’s a little winded from being pulled down by surprised, breathy as he begins to speak. “Hey, can I tell ya’ somethin’?”

Golden hour is taking over, blanketing the expanse of the property and beyond the horizon with hues of oranges and gold, purples and pinks; the two of you are painted in the stunning natural light, and you hope to God this is a good question, or the timing of whatever he’s about to ask could be absolute shit.

You nod, curious and a little nervous. “Yeah, f’course.”

Gator chuckles nervously before taking a deep breath, “I… I think I—“

An engine roars across the field near the house, interrupting Gator; wheels crunching along the snow packed down on the driveway from the plow that came through earlier. The two of you sit up quickly to see your father’s truck pulling up to the house, and your heart sinks. You immediately become nauseated and anxious at the sight; Gator can tell you’re frightened, slipping his cold hand into your soft, mitten-bundled one.

“I- I didn’t know they were gon’ be back tonight.” He can feel you trembling as you say that, voice shaking along too; you feel small, so wrapped up in the comfort and security you and Gator had created over the past week, only for that to be erased by the unexpected arrival of your families. Your mind races, scrambling to put together any vigilance and defense for whatever bullshit is about to come, for either of you.

It was tolerable to handle your parents when you first arrived in North Dakota, because you could prepare and brace yourself for their abuse. Right now though, where you should find peace in your vulnerability with Gator, you feel like you’re drowning in it, trying to claw your way through choppy waters that only slip between your fingers.

“M’not leavin’ your side, darlin’.” Gator reassures you, voice quiet, as if they can hear the two of you from this far away. Meanwhile, not a single one of them looks over in your direction, entering the house without a look back. “We can go back to my place tonight, if you’re alright with that.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. We can pack quick and get the fuck outta here. And I’ll take you to the airport when you gotta go in a few days.”

“Gator, that’s so outta the way for you—“

“M’not leaving you with your dad, I don’t trust that fu—“ He cuts himself off, clearing his throat. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be so rude, he’s still your family.”

“Nah. He’s not. He’s never been, never will be. Bound by blood don’t mean shit.” You can feel your fear shifting into rage; taking deep breaths, you try to calm yourself, knowing you can’t waltz back in there hostile or bitter.

Gator stands and pulls you up, hand still secure in yours. He waits for you to take the first steps, not wanting to rush you into what could be a toxic situation.

When the pair of you reach the front porch, Gator asks, “Would ya’ feel better in the car? I can grab your stuff before we leave. I don’t mind.”

You shake your head, steeling yourself for whatever could, and would, happen beyond that door, before heading inside.

The warmth of the house isn’t enough to shake the cold from your bones. Your fathers are both at the kitchen table, glasses with dark liquor in both of their hands, while your mother’s already stuck at the stove; you can hear the faint sounds of Karen talking to the twins upstairs.

Your father looks up as he sees you walk in, Gator trailing behind. A sneering look upon his alcohol worn face.

“Whoa! Looks like someone gained some holiday weight since we left,” Your father slurs, laughing when his comment twists your face into offense.

Fucking moron, I’m under like, 60 layers of clothes.

“We were outside, I had layers on, y’know, ‘cause it’s winter.”

“Watch your tone, girl.” The last word radiates with disgust towards you.

Roy’s watching all of this, silently, letting your father spit hatred right off the bat. He sips his drink, shooting a glare at Gator, who has a hand pressed against the small of your back, reassures you he’s here. You can barely feel it through the inches of fabric, but the sentiment is all the same.

“Yer’ makin’ your poor mother slave over a hot stove ‘cause you couldn’t be bothered to have dinner ready for us.” He spits. You tense up, trying to hold your anger in.

“How was I supposed to know when you’d be home, you never said shit. You don’t have to force Ma to do anything. I ain’t obligated to do anything I don’t wanna, either.” Your voice threatens to break, but you hold yourself together. Your mother still won’t look at you. Won’t even address you’re in the room. “You could learn how to do somethin’ y’self for once.”

Your father shoves himself out of his chair, striding over to you; Gator can feel you try to make yourself small and hide. “Where the fuck are your manners, woman?”

Without missing a beat, you snap, “Six feet under with your dead daughter, asshole.”

“Don’t you dare talk ‘bout Willow like that—“

“Like what, Pa?” It’s taking a toll on you mentally and physically already, to balance between standing your ground, calming yourself, and hiding your fear. Your fingers clench into fists at your sides. “Don’t try actin’ like you care now.”

“It’s yer fault she died, makin’ her drive in the snow like that—“

Gator attempts to step in, still feigning respect to keep whatever little peace was left. “Sir, you can’t be twistin’ the truth like that. A drunk driver took her life—“

“Gator, stay out of it.” Roy warns, and immediately Gator shuts himself up out of fear of retaliation.

“It’s true, y’know. She was the safest driver I knew in this town, even in the snow.” You back Gator up. “It wasn’t her fault. How dare you blame her when she can’t even defend herself.”

Because she’s gone. Forever.

“She shouldn’t have been drivin’ so young, but you talked her into that one.” Your father sneers; he’s not speaking out of anger that she’s gone, he’s fueled by the insistent need to always be right, to always keep control.

“Willow had to learn ‘cause home wasn’t safe for her! She needed a way out. You made her life a livin’ hell in every way possible! I had to learn how to mend my own wounds while I was under your roof, and I took care of hers, ‘cause we couldn’t go to the hospital. I kept Lo’ alive a lot longer than either of you would ever! You and Ma both were supposed to protect her, supposed t’love her!”

Cruelly, he barks out a laugh, “Not like you did much—“

“You fuckin’ listen to me right fuckin’ now, you sick fuck,” You’re much shorter than your father, but the rage makes you feel bigger than he ever could be. You’re pointing a firm finger into his chest, only making him stumble back a bit because he’s already drunk. “I did everythin’ I could for that sweet girl, I taught her how to drive, I helped her with homework nearly every night, I gave her a safe place to rest her head once I moved out of your fucked up house. She had hope with me by her side. She had a future set that you woulda’ never cared to give her. She worked so. Fucking. Hard. Some drunk fuck took that away, not me. Not the snow. A drunk driver that didn’t give a flyin’ fuck about anyone but himself—

“Which, by the way,” You turn to Roy, eyes glassy as you try holding back tears; Gator reaches out protectively to hold you back, but you still glare at Roy. “The driver only got a slap on the wrist ‘cause it was one of your buddies, huh? Did ya’ tell my parents that one? You useless piece of—“

A sharp sting tingles across your face, with numbness and a deafening ringing in your ears to follow; your father uses his wedding ring as a weapon of discipline as he backhands you across the face. Pain sets in, and you can feel yourself dissociate as your vision doubles; reaching up to your face, you pull your hand back and find blood dripping down your fingers. You can’t hear the way your mother gasps, or the way your father tells her to know her place.

You also don’t realize Gator let go of you to lunge at your father, slamming him against the wall with force that knocks the wind out of his lungs. The arm pinning him across his neck doesn’t help much with his shallow breathing, either.

“Gator—“

“Roy, shut the fuck up, for once in your fuckin’ life.” Gator spits before turning back to your father, pressure increasing on his throat as he lays his arm into him with almost all he’s got, without killing him, of course.

Everything is blurry to you, everything sounds like it’s underwater and miles away as you stumble back into a wall, leaning into it for support. The edges of your vision begin closing in, turning black. Your heart beats wildly, and your body is begging to hyperventilate.

Don’t pass out, don’t pass out, don’t pass out.

“Touch her again, and I’ll make sure ya’ rot in a lonely, filthy cell ‘till the end of your days, you sick fuck.” Gator spits into your father’s face, which is slowly turning blue as his windpipe is being nearly crushed. Roy reaches for Gator roughly, but Gator throws an elbow back, perfectly aimed at his throat. His father coughs wildly, collapsing to the ground while he holds his throat, glaring at his son in disbelief.

You’ve never seen Gator so livid before; it’s the first thing you can see clearly as the blurriness dissolves from your vision, taking the ear-piercing ringing along with it. His jaw looks like it’ll break any second with how hard he’s gritting his teeth together, with nostrils flared and a threatening glare towards your father.

You don’t hear Karen come downstairs, but you can slightly hear her yell, “What is goin’ on in here?!”

Gator turns to her, still holding nearly all of his body weight to keep your father from moving; this is when his eyes soften, oddly enough. “Karen, you needa’ take your girls and leave, unless ya’ wanna die here stayin’ with this fuckin’ pig.” He glares at Roy, still gasping for air on the kitchen floor.

She’s speechless, eyes darting all around, from Gator, to Roy, to your father, then your mother, and you, holding your face to stop the bleeding. She can’t tear her eyes away from you, knowing by experience how badly hurt you are. Unexpectedly, she’s reaching out to guide you out of the room, murmuring, “C’mon, gotta clean that up ‘fore it gets infected.”

It’s incredibly surreal that Karen steps up with motherly care in an instant, where your own mother couldn’t, and wouldn’t dare. She doesn’t say much to you, letting you zone out in the bathroom while you’re on the toilet seat, trying not to lose consciousness as she tends to the gash on your face.

“It ain’t worth it, y’know. Gator’s right. Y’all gotta go somewhere safe.” You mumble, startling her a bit after going so long keeping silent. She’s trying to focus on cleaning the blood off, but you can tell her mind is elsewhere, too. “One time’s too many, y’know. Bein’ hit and stuff.” She doesn’t say it, but you know she knows already. “You and your kids deserve better than this.”

Before she can respond, Gator’s in the doorway, pushing a wad of cash at Karen, from god knows where. You’re secretly hoping he stole it from his dad, an extra blow to his ego. “Even if it’s just a motel or somethin’, y’all gotta get out and find somewhere safe.”

She looks at it hesitantly, then back at Gator, “Why are you doin’ this?”

Gator hesitates, swallowing a lump in his throat, shoving it in her hands, “‘Cause you don’t gotta end up like my mom, too.” He looks over at you, “Darlin’, we gotta go. I got no clue how long they’re down for, but it bought us some time.” He comes in after Karen quickly bandages the now clean laceration, helping you up to head out of the room. Before leaving, he turns back to Karen, “I suggest y’all leave soon as y’can, too.”

Guiding you to the stairs, Karen catches his attention one more time. “Gator?” He throws a glance over his shoulder at her. “You better keep her safe.”

He nods, shifting your arm around his shoulder, and winding his arm around you, under your arms to hold you up, using him as support. You’re in a daze, hearing everything, but feeling so distant.

“Yes, ma’am.” He’s not just politely answering, he’s firmly promising.

As the two of you head for the door, you pass your mother, weeping on the couch, unable to look at you. You know it’s useless, but you have to try. You’d regret it if you didn’t. You stop in your tracks, stopping Gator alongside you. He notices you can’t look away from your mother and the state she’s in, and helps you over to her. Gator stands close, making sure nothing else happens to you, while you sit next to her.

“Ma?” You reach out to grab her hand, with a crumpled up wad of tissues in her grip. She can’t look at you. She won’t. “You don’t gotta live like this anymore.”

Her sniffling and weeping continues. You can feel the shards of your heart that you’ve taped and glued back together, time and time again, splinter apart once more.

“Mama, you don’t have to stay with him. I can help you find somewhere to go— you can even come with me. You can be safe.” You’re pleading with her; there’s a lot you resent her for, but she still never deserved the abuse and turmoil your father dragged her through. “You deserve better. Always have, Mama. Please.”

When she finally speaks, she still can’t look you in the eye. “It’ll get better when you leave.” It’s said so simply, but it just crushes whatever splinters are left of your broken heart. “He never wanted daughters from the start.”

You hold in your tears; you never saw crying as a sign of being weak, but your mother doesn’t deserve your vulnerability at this point. She didn’t deserve you, or Willow. Neither of them did. You both should’ve been raised in a family with unconditional love.

Looking at Gator, you hold your arm out, and he helps you back on your feet. You glance at your mother one last time, who still won’t look at you. “Yeah, well… we never wanted the parents we got… So I guess we’re even.”

Goodbye, Ma.

As you and Gator head for the door, you hear her try to muffle her sobs with more tissues. You take one last glance into the kitchen, Roy and your father both unconscious on the floor. Roy’s throat is already bruising, and your father’s face is unrecognizable, pummeled to a bloody pulp. Gator tries shielding you away, but you already see the damage. He’s alive, and the bleeding slowed, but he’s out cold, probably for a while, too.

“M’sorry you saw that.”

Your mind wanders as Gator wraps you in a big blanket, the one you used the night the power went out, before cautiously heading to his cruiser to help you into the passenger seat. When you’re settled in, he kisses your forehead before tugging the blanket around you tighter, making sure you’re warm and as comfortable as you can be, despite the pain.

“You’re safe in here, gimme a few minutes, I gotta grab your stuff, okay?” You nod at his words, dozing off seconds after he shuts the car door, locking it, just in case. The exhaustion of everything that just happened takes over, forcing you to rest.

The ride to Gator’s place is quiet enough that you’re able to stay asleep for the few minutes it takes to arrive.

“Darlin’, c’mon, let’s get ya’ inside.” You’re woken up by Gator softly speaking, pulling you out of the cruiser, confused as to what’s going on or where you are until awareness slowly sets in. “I grabbed our stuff already, and we can do whatever you want to, or if you need some space, I can give ya’ that.”

You can’t find your words or collect your thoughts, still lost in a daze, so you nod distractedly in response while he helps you inside.

Gator’s apartment is cluttered here and there; you knew he was rarely here to keep things tidy, though, with how often he was made to do Roy’s dirty work for him.

He throws the covers back on his bed to get you settled and comfy, helping you out of the several layers of clothes and your boots before laying you down, while you wrap yourself back up in the blanket he gave you earlier. “You should probably eat somethin’—“ You shake your head ‘no’. “Well, at least you need some water. Maybe painkillers— wait, you shouldn’t take any on an empty stomach. Maybe ice? Yeah, ice.” You tug on his hand before he turns away to leave, so he crouches down next to you at the edge of his bed. “What’s up, darlin’?”

Your voice cracks, forcing your words through a dry, choked up throat, “Are you okay?”

Normally, Gator would tease you for asking, for putting him first before yourself. He was never dishonest when he answered before, but he’s being upfront this time. “No… I don’t think I am.”

You sit up quickly, groaning as the room spins; Gator has to guide you back down to the bed, but you prop yourself up on your arm, leaning onto it as your tired eyes search his expression. “Did he hurt you? Did your dad hurt you? I’ll kill ‘em both—“

Barely above a whisper, Gator pushes the hair falling in your face behind your ear, “Easy there, tiger.” He can’t bring himself to laugh as he gently teases you, but does his best to smile, though it’s somber. “Not physically. Watchin’ him attack you like that… I shoulda’ kept you away from your dad, or let y’stay in the car from the start. I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.”

Your face falls while sorrow floods through you. “Gator, you did protect me. You probably saved my life tonight, or at least saved me an ambulance trip. You know he would’ve kept going if you didn’t stop him.” You hold his face in your hand, “You’ve always let me fight my own battles, and you’ve always stepped in if I needed backup. It’s something I’ve always been grateful for. You are someone I’m always grateful for.”

His thumb grazes your jawline on the same side your fresh wound is, careful not to get too close to it. “Not sure why you’d say that after what I did to you before you moved… But m’glad you weren’t alone with this shit tonight.”

“If anyone’s ever deserved a second chance, it’s you. It’s always been you, Gator.” You mumble the last part out as your eyelids grow heavy, head sinking back into the pillow, but it’s just coherent enough for Gator to hear it. He pulls the blankets over you, assuring you’re cozy and warm, while waiting for you to settle into a deep sleep; he hopes your dreams are even just the tiniest bit sweeter than this day was for you.

Silently, Gator promises to himself and you, that he’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep you safe, and make sure you know you’re really, truly loved.

He just hopes to God he has the balls to work himself up to the confession again tomorrow.

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman x you #Fargo #part time soulmate full time problem #my fics

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hspr-21 · 1 year

Text

Arven x (GN) Reader Oneshot “I miss you.”

It had been a few days since you really talked to your boyfriend, Arven. The end of the first semester exams were creeping up quickly and you both knew it. The classes you shared with him were just busy studying and trying to make all the students remember everything. Even though Arven was a straight A student, he still continued to study hard. During lunches where you talked to you close friend group of you, Nemona, Penny and of course, Arven, he would hide himself away in either his dorm or the library, studying. You craved attention from him. The three were pretty much your only friends. Sure, there was a lot of friendly people in your classes. However, no one compared to them.

“Hey!” A girl with a long black ponytail with green strand poking out in the front lightly bopped your head as she called out to draw your attention. “You good?” Nemona greeted you with her usual soft and friendly smile as you lifted your head, dragging you completely out of your thought.

“Oh! Sorry Nemona. I kinda got lost in thought” Nemona’s smile grew as the words left your mouth. She knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Oooooh~! Do you miss you boyfriend~?” Nemona said in a mocking and singsong voice. Your face flushed a light shade a pink as you hide you face in your hands again.

“Nemona. Stop. You’re embarrassing them.” Penny said turning to Nemona, making eye contact. Nemona sighed a turned back to you. The noise of the cafeteria makes a great background noise to start thinking again. The start of Nemona and Penny’s conversation of the exams fit in as well. You just wanted to see your boyfriend. The day had been tiring. You wanted for school to be over so you could lie in your bed. Only two more periods to go. It’ll be over soon.

It was a few minutes until your final class ended. This was one of the classes with Arven. Throughout the period, you kept looking up at Arven, You missed him so much. You needed the semester exams to finish. You missed even the smallest conversations between the two of you.

Brrinnngg!

You were caught in your thoughts again. You quickly sat up as you put your textbooks in your bag. Slowly, the class emptied out as you finished and proceeded to walk out. Tonight would be a calm and lonely night. Once you got into your dorm, you threw your bag on the chair. You slipped out of your school uniform and into a comfortable outfit. It was a baggy hoodie and soft leggings. Walking over to the desk, you opened your bag and grabbed your rotom phone. On the top of your screen, there was a notification alerting you that you’d missed a message. It was from Arven. You quickly swiped up to see what he had sent.

“Hey, Y/N. Can you come over to my dorm?”

You started to type as fast as you could, replying a quick yes. You slid on your shoes and walked out of you dorm, eagerly heading to your boyfriend’s dorm. Once you got there, you knocked on the door. A second later, the door opened as Arven pulled you into a hug. “I missed you, Y/N.” You finally saw Arven’s flustered face as he let go of you. The two of you walked into his dorm as he closed the dorm. “I thought we could watch a movie together or something. I made us some dinner too. I made us (favorite food).”

That night, you and Arven finally spent some well deserved one on one time with each other. You laid in his arms that night. You slowly drifted to sleep. It was a Friday night. There would be another time to study. Now, let’s just focus on each other.

(Wow that pretty decent ig. Anyway bye fellow Arven simps!)

#arven #arven pokemon #arven fanfic #arven x reader #arven x male reader #arven x female reader #arven x gn reader #arven my beloved #x reader #oneshot #x gn reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x male reader #x masc reader #pokémon #pokemon #cuddle

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nejiverse · 1 year

Note

just red your Aki fics with the family and omg.

but then my head goes to thinking about Y/n finding out about Aki’s death.

and it just breaks my heart as like an AU.

if possible can you write that but not cannon to what you’ve written just as an alternate thing

ONE MORE TIME

Aki Hayakawa

writing this kinda pinched my heart a little 🥲

cw: hyperventilation, angst

919 words

Y/n paced around the office nervously. Biting down on her nails wouldn’t be enough to contain her anxiousness at the current moment.

This feeling was of course normal and natural. It was part of the system that evolved to keep people safe and well. It was an alarm system of sorts, one you should heed.

One you should always heed.

Unfortunately this time, she chose to ignore it because of her lover’s persistence and eagerness.

News was received that there was more information on the gun devil’s whereabouts and Aki was so quick to accept the mission.

Y/n knew the reasons as to why he wanted to pursue the Gun devil but she also worried for his safety.

She tried, she really did.

She tried to talk him out of it because of the feeling that was welling deep inside her chest, a feeling of uneasiness.

He managed to calm her down by promising to come back alive and well.

“I’ll never forgive him if he breaks his promise”, she said with bated breath.

“All that worrying won’t do you any good Y/n. Try to calm down”, Himeno tapped her shoulder with her cigarette, offering it to her but she shrugged her off.

She never smoked, she didn’t like when Aki did it either, but old habits die hard as they say.

These next few hours of her life would either pass as a blip or they would be the final trauma that breaks her. Soon enough, she would find it to be the latter.

The next sound that was heard was the hinges of the door squeaking open, alerting the two women that someone was stepping in.

It was a man Y/n remembered to have accompanied Aki on his mission.

She looked up to him with hopeful eyes, she figured no words had to be said from her. Her pupils and facial expressions clearly displayed what she wanted to know.

“The mission was a success..”, he started.

Y/n let out a sigh from deep down in her chest, a small smile making way to her lips. That meant Aki was alive and breathing, or so she concluded.

“I’m glad to hear that”, she gently clasped her hands together against her chest. “Where’s Aki right now?”, she asked happily.

When she saw the man’s features dulling, her smiled faded as fast as her hands unclasped. She frantically looked from the man to Himeno in disbelief.

“H-he’s fine, right?”.

No response.

But the silence spoke louder than any words could. In fact, the silence laughed at her. It mocked her as if to brag of its undeserving feat.

Terror overtook her face and sadness clouded her heart.

“Don’t tell me…”, her voice was barely audible. “I l-lost him?”.

She lost him.

“I’m sorry”, the man clenched his fists in a useless attempt to stop tears from threatening his eyes. He quickly exited the room so he wouldn’t have to hear her weeps. It was futile though.

Y/n found that she couldn't draw in her usual lung-full, as if concrete had been poured into her airways. She clutched her shirt tightly into her fist.

The panic drove her to start gasping, breathing as if the oxygen had been sucked from the air around her. Y/n doubled over and fell to her knees, one weak hand on the ground to support her weight.

Already her thoughts were becoming jumbled, like she was in a nightmare rather than the simplistic office.

Himeno quickly rushed to her side and embraced her tightly.

“Let it all out. You can cry, it’s okay”, Himeno rubbed her back and squeezed her eyes shut as to ensure no tears slip down her cheeks.

Y/n knew how things would go from here. They would all act as if it were a noble sacrifice for their sake, that by loving his memory, the mourning would become a wholesome and wonderful thing. But the truth was they were cowards, every last one of them in this dammed association.

“So…cruel”, she murmured through her tears. It was cruel that none of them were willing to see the difference between honourable self sacrifice and murder. She hoped guilt will one day destroy them from the inside out.

Y/n let out a scream as tears came out of her eyes in pools and her nails dug into Himeno’s arm.

Aki didn’t deserve an early death.

“Please Himeno..”, she wailed, almost like a child as she averted her half-lidded and heavily red eyes to the woman who was embracing her. “Bring him b-back, Aki”, she stuttered through her quick huffs, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Himeno pursed her lips. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t think there were any words to console her at this moment in time. She could only offer her presence.

All she ever prayed for was to be in his arms forever. His love was everything to her. He made her feel so good about herself, he was kind to her, so very kind.

She would do absolutely anything to just hold him one more time.

But that was a wish that could only be granted in her dreams,

For these hours were only the start of the longest and darkest night there ever was.

Masterlist :)

a/n: I love writing angst, also no manga spoilers please

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fruit-sauce · 10 months

Text

My swag and totally normal q!BBH headcanons

I need to talk about my thoughts and headcanons about q!BBH, ESPECIALLY after the lore drops of him being like. a manifestation of c!bbh as well as the fact he “arrived” in 9600 BCE??? I need to say my thoughts- NOW. (also for the fact i wanna draw these out, some of them feel kinda specific and/or complicated)

warning, its a lot:

First and foremost, he’s the Grim Reaper. That’s just a canon fact, but! I still like to remember the name “The Saints of Games” and input that into his lore.

Basically, he started off as angel, just like q!Philza, but (after some deals and not so good things) he turned into a demon. Design wise, he can go between looking like an angel, demon, or just a guy, but that’s mostly for funsies for me lol

As a demon, he quickly became high ranking, eventually working under the goddess of death herself as “the grim reaper.” this is where he meets phil, since now they’re technically co-workers.

He used to only care for guiding spirits and souls in the underworld, but soon discovered that something was wrong. Souls were going missing, sometimes going past him multiple times. This caused him to venture to the overworld (And cause whatever he did in 9600 BCE???)

The cause of his problems was Foolish! :D Seeing as foolish is a literal totem, I like the idea of him being some type of god/demi god that causes rebirth/keep people from dying/etc. This starts their rivalry that we still see now.

As a general, not every iteration of BBH, Phil, Forever, etc. is the same, they all come from different universes and timelines, but can come together and retain the memories as they move forward. This idea came from the fact qBBH wants “a skeppy” not even his skeppy, just A skeppy. Skeppy is not a deity, so, in every universe, he has to meet bbh over and over again, there are infinite skeppys, but only 1 bbh, and bbh knows that. There is a Skeppy in the QSMP universe that’s been with bbh for years now and has some remembrance of other timelines, the “main” skeppy, if you will (mostly eggpire stuff cause i love the eggpire (something i’ll, idk, make a comic about or something one day))

On the island itself, there’s something up with it that, when they woke up on the trains, BBH, Foolish, and Phil were simply drained of their abilities and magic. They still had some, but no where near enough to leave the island or contact anyone. That being said, BBH gets his energy from souls, something he doesn’t like to do with living beings. He also just naturally takes energy from people, so he plays the bit of the grim reaper that wants people to stay hydrated and takes care of all the eggs because if everyone is happy and healthy, he doesn’t have to worry about accidentally killing them!

There are some that resist him tho: Foolish and Phil, obviously, but also Dapper, Cheyenne, and Leo! The eggs seem to take in the dna of their parents somewhat so these 3 also get that pass... Also Missa, Slime, and Rubius..

Speaking of Rubius, BBH and him I feel like HAVE to have some backstory, they’ve totally met before, both are literally angels/demons.

Back to Foolish, as much as they poke at one another, they do trust each other a lot, when they were in that dungeon where Foolish almost died, in my head, BBH was basically pulling Foolish out of the way of the Vindicators, digging his claws into Foolish, who then used his totem body to keep BBH from dying (when BBH spent 2 totems trying to pick him up) the third totem was a normal totem tho, him saying “You’re making me eat totems” was literal, he held it in his mouth and broke thru it to use it....

that’s not how they’re supposed to be use i just think it’d look cool...

... I need to make an animatic about that...

#all characters no CC #i think about this creature a lot #qsmp #badboyhalo #FS qsmp headcanons #putting this on the list of things to draw

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hinatastinygiant · 2 years

Text

Chapter Twelve

Labels

Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader

previous | next | last summer

After your time at the library, you rush right back to your dorm building and knock on Nobara's door. She opens it up quickly, though the look of confusion on her face shows that she's clearly not expecting you to tell her what you just did.

"Hey, what's up?" she asks with a hint of concern in her tone.

"Can I come in, please?" you ask nervously as you practically push yourself past her.

"Woah, slow down and take a second to breathe."

Your body tenses up at her words, remember that Gojo says almost the exact same thing when you're alone with him.

"What'd you say?" you reply as your voice cracks.

"I told you to take a breath and calm. Come sit down with me and we can talk about whatever's bothering you," she expresses in a calm manner that has you actually do as she says.

It's then that you finally let it all out like word vomit, admitting to her every little detail about Fushiguro in the library. As you speak, her mouth drops to the ground in absolute shock at what you've told her. However, that's not to say she's not absolutely loving the drama that you're now involving yourself in.

"I thought you said you were gonna cut it off with him?" she asks once you're finished speaking.

"I thought so too but that's not what ended up happening," you sigh. "I really did try to talk to him but I just couldn't do it."

"So now what are you going to do?"

"I've got no idea," you groan as you put your hand to your head. "I was kinda hoping you'd have an idea."

"I don't know," she shrugs. "This is kinda your decision. Do you want to keep screwing around with our teacher or see where it goes with Fushiguro?"

"Right now there are no strings attached with either..." you mumble to yourself. "Do I sound like a horrible person if I say maybe I can keep it going with both, at least for now? It's all going well so far and I don't really know which way to go."

"Yeah, 'so far', but it won't be perfect forever. I don't think it's a good idea, Y/N," she tells you, causing you to let out a sigh of uneasiness. "How are you even going to keep it going like this without either of them finding out... Gojo does have a big mouth."

"I've got absolutely no idea," you grumble, resting your head down on your friend's shoulder, "but I've got to figure something out soon."

Fushiguro's P.O.V.

I'm walking back from the library with a bright red face. I'm still in shock, unable to believe what actually just happened. I stick my head deep within my half-torn-out book hoping not to draw attention to myself as I cross campus.

However, as I'm walking someone stops me and places their hand on the top of my book. They slowly bring it down until they're able to see the flustered expression on my face. And of course, the person on the other side of my protective wall that was my book, is Gojo. I sigh to myself when I see him, not ready for this talk.

"How'd it go at the library?" he asks as he attempts to hide the grin starting to grow along the side of his lips. "Did you get any studying done?"

As I look at him, it's quite clear to tell that he already knows everything that happened. Although I'm not quite sure how he knows, it's obvious that he does.

I take a deep breath as I prepare myself for the headache I'm about to get. "It went well. Now I'm going to get some food before heading back so I'll see you in class tomor-"

"Did you happen to run into Y/N at the library? I asked her to go and I just want to make sure she did get some studying in, too. Though she's quite excellent with using her technique, I fear she does not know what she's capable of."

I can feel my face burn at his words. What the hell am I supposed to say?

"Yes. We studied together a bit so I can say that she did get some work done," I vaguely explain.

"Good," he chuckles. "She and I did the same a few nights ago. I suppose she'll be all ready for this week's exam."

Why the hell did I mess with Y/N when it was so obvious she was doing it with Gojo? I'm such an idiot for getting involved.

Gojo wraps his arm around me and walks me towards the school. "Perhaps the three of us could study altogether, yeah? The two of you would both get a lot of good information out of that session."

I tense up under his touch which only causes him to laugh a bit harder at my uneasiness. "I mean if it's what Y/N wants then maybe we should just give it to her."

"Why the hell would I be interested in doing that with you?" I scoff, getting extremely frustrated by him.

"If you really like the girl, then prove that she needs nobody else 'cept you," he tells me as he stops walking and turns to face me. "Unless you think your skills aren't quite as good as mine," he then taunts, leaning closer to me with his stupid smirk growing wider on his face.

I'm just so damn pissed at everyone that I don't even know what to think. I'm angry at myself for getting involved and doing what I did, mad at Gojo for having the audacity to mess with his students' lives, and upset with Y/N for being reckless enough to get herself into all of this.

"Fine," I scoff as I take a step away from her, "but don't expect this to be a reoccurring thing. I expect you to at least give us some kind of hint about your stupid test, too, since this is all your idea."

"Hm, alright then, Megumi, you've got a deal."

Even though he continues to talk to me, I just walk away. Whatever else he's got to say on the matter I no longer care to hear him out. He better just keep his promise.

Taglist: @gothic-illustrations @thisbicc

previous | next | last summer

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ayatosmoles · 2 years

Text

every single time

contains: angst, hurt/no comfort, fwb to enemies, reader is called beautiful and sweetheart but gn otherwise, reader and kiyoomi are kinda toxic ngl, very suggestive - minors dni

wc: 1.3k

note: here is my angst submission for The Sakusa Kiyoomi Film Festival hosted by @goreist and @sakusins!! thank you so much to them for allowing me to participate!! i've gotten my heart broken by a fwb before so i hope that that projected enough onto this fic <3 i still have a romance submission for this collab that should be done soon!! hope y'all enjoy :)

You decide that the best time to tell Sakusa is in the shower. At first you thought it would be wiser to tell him before you sleep together, not wanting to look like you were using him for a fuck before putting a wrench in your relationship, but you decided that he’d be able to give you a real response in the shower. If you tell him how much love him when his mind is hazy with lust and a need to release his stress, he’d probably accept it and move one only to come to his senses later. If you tell him in the shower when his mind is clear, he can’t give you false hope, even if for only a few hours.

You feel guilty. Kiyoomi greets you at the door with a familiar smile and a kind kiss on your cheek, a ritual you’ve come to know at least twice a week. He leads you into his apartment across the living room, through the hallway, and into his bedroom. He shuts the door softly and pins you against it to mold his lips onto yours. He begins to trail his lips down to your jawbone and you realize that you’d probably be sitting on the couch talking if you’d gone with your original plan. A small part of you wishes that you stuck with your original thought of telling him before you do anything, because the guilt and dread for what is coming after replaces any pleasure you should be feeling from his mouth on yours.

You and Kiyoomi met in college and quickly became good friends. Neither of you had anyone else throughout your college years, and it was easy to find comfort in each other. Kiyoomi had just started his career in the professional volleyball league, and you were in the process of finding a job that would put your degree to use when you slept together for the first time. You don’t entirely remember how it started, likely just a mix of stress and need for another person. That ‘one-time thing’ became a monthly thing, and then a bi-weekly thing, and then a weekly thing. Sakusa refuses to call you friends-with-benefits, saying that you’re friends that like to do ‘extra friendly’ things sometimes.

He's always been careful to draw a line and establish a heavy boundary between your friendship and your sexual relationship. He didn’t start kissing you until at least a few months in, and he refuses to kiss you outside of sex. ’It makes it confusing,” he said once. Despite this careful boundary, you have a very deep fondness for Kiyoomi deep in your stomach that you’ve chosen to label as love. You think you’ve loved him since even before you had sex, but sleeping together has made it harder to ignore, you think. He’s always been good at telling you sweet, reassuring things when you aren’t sure of yourself. He’s always careful to take your feelings into consideration and try his best to adapt to them. You really aren’t sure why you didn’t expect to feel this way about him.

Kiyoomi lays you down on his bed, carefully running a hand up your waist while his other hand pushes your shirt up above your chest. Your pants were slipped off at the door, and Kiyoomi relishes in the feeling of your near-bare waist and hips.

“Are you feeling okay?” he checks in and takes a break to make eye contact. Somehow you nod, understanding his words through the cloud of guilt clinging to your mind.

“Good. You look beautiful today, sweetheart,” he sighs and rushes to press his lips against yours again.

He’s never used that name before. Should you call someone you aren’t dating ‘sweetheart’? Should you call them beautiful too? That’s too sweet of a nickname for a fuckbuddy. Why would he call you that? He doesn’t think of you like that. If you say anything about it he’s just going to reinstate that rigid boundaries that he so rarely strays from. What then? He only just barely said it and you already have the sound of his voice calling you a sickly-sweet nickname replaying in your mind. He’s probably already realizing what he said and how to take it back. He pulls away from the kiss and immediately notices tears pooling in your eyes.

“I can’t do this, Kiyoomi. I can’t do it anymore.” His eyes furrow.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. It was an accident.”

You choke, knowing that was going to come eventually.

“What if I want you to mean it?”

“What?” he looks at you, confused.

“What do you mean “what’? Are you really that stupid?” you take a moment to wipe the tears falling down your cheeks, “I want you to call me things like that. I want you to call me sweetheart and beautiful and love. I want you to kiss me when I’m not naked, when it doesn’t mean anything. I love you Kiyoomi and I want you to love me back even though I know you never will.”

You try your best to cover your face, tearing your hands from where they laid on Sakusa’s broad shoulders to create a shield over your face. Sakusa doesn’t say anything, he leaves you alone and half-naked to cry into your hands. Only for a few moments.

“You promised that this wouldn’t happen.”

You peek through your fingers to try and read his expression. He’s disappointed; you almost want to say he’s mad too, but Sakusa doesn’t get mad. He just gets frigid with disappointment.

“I’m sorry. I was going to tell you later, I just-“

“So you were going to use me and then break things off?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you try defending yourself through the chokes of tears, “I didn’t want to tell you when I got here because I was scared you’d just go along with it and then realize what you agreed to after and turn me down after giving me what I want.”

“So… you assumed that I’d use you and then ditch you?” The hurt starts to outweigh the disappointment, but you see what you think of as resentment start to kindle in his face.

He’s right, and you don’t know how to answer. “…I guess.”

“Do you think that little of me? I’ve never been anything but honest with you, and I kept my promise that this wouldn’t lead anywhere and it’s just for fun. You promised that you’d end it if you started feeling anything.”

“Is it so revolting to even think about dating me?” you spit, “You’re acting like my feelings are going to taint you.”

“You’re being ridiculous. I don’t have feelings for you, and I can’t have feelings for you. We were friends, but I don’t think we can be anymore because now it’s awkward.”

“You’re afraid of a little awkwardness? I’m willing to move on if you just say no, but you’re talking like I just ruined your life.”

“No, I’m afraid that you’ll keep breaking promises. You broke every promise you made about this whole… situation and I don’t know how I’ll ever trust you again.” he glowers at you.

“That’s ridiculous, Kiyoomi. I just told you the truth, so I didn’t break anything.”

You push him away from where he still hovers over you to pull your shirt back down. You get up from the bed and put your pants back on after retrieving them from the doorway floor.

“How many times have we had sex since you realized you had feelings?” he glares at you as you try collecting yourself back together enough to leave.

“Every single fucking time, Kiyoomi.”

You leave his apartment, tears rekindling on your lashes when you slam his front door shut.

#this is my first ever collab i'm so nervous T_T #sakusa angst #sakusa kiyoomi angst #sakusa x reader angst #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu angst

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miyacreampie · 3 years

Text

Lenny sensei's night class has begun!~♡

“Senpai~♡”

synopsis 💭;; Tanaka gets jealous bc some bitch talking to his man.

note 🖋️;; IT TOOK A WHOLE FUCKIN WEEK TO WRITE THIS. WHY DOES WORK ALWAYS PREVENT ME FROM DOING THE THINGS I LIKE? WHAT THE ACTUAL FU- by the way, ‘Isayama Misaki’ is based off of some asswipe I used to know- also, I ran out of ideas at the end, so it kinda cuts of lf at the good part. I apologize to the anon that requested this.

Requested by anon ♡

Male pronouns used

Tanaka wasn't a jealous man. Or at least he'd like to think so.

(Y/n) was pretty popular around campus, so it wasn't a surprise to see a few fangirls here or there. It kinda reminded him of Oikawa—except (Y/n) didn't exactly pay his fangirls any attention. (And he didn't have an ass as flat as printer paper.) But did that stop them from trying to get into his pants? No.

In all honesty, Ryu felt lucky that he had someone like (Y/n) as a boyfriend, although he didn't like the fangirls—who paid him no mind whenever they were together. It annoyed him that they kept surrounding (Y/n) who clearly wanted nothing to do with them, begging him for dates, one night stands, anything.

To say that Tanaka was mildly uncomfortable was an understatement.

🌇🌇

Today was a bit different. Instead of a crowd of women rushing towards (Y/n), it was just one—; Misaki Isayama. The woman (almost) every guy considered perfect. This was...manageable, but what did she want? Well—at least it was only one girl. He had only woken up a little over an hour ago, and wasn't exactly ready for his simps just yet.

“(L/n)-chan, can you help me study for the science exam that's coming up?”

“Just because you're my upperclassman, doesn't mean you can call me that.” (Y/n) said quietly, rubbing his eyes, then yawning. “I'm on my way to the lecture hall though, so maybe after that? I should be fully awake by then..”

Misaki smiled and nodded her head. “It's a date!”

“No. No it's not.”

🏙️🏙️

Tanaka let (Y/n) lean on him during the lecture. That turned into one sided cuddling from the sleepy man. Ryu thought it was cute how (Y/n) always clung to him when he was sleepy. He was a little sad when (Y/n) fully awoke, and let him go, but it was for the best.

“Oh, Ryu-san. I'm tutoring the rumored ‘perfect woman’, and it's gonna be awkward with just the two of us, so can y—”

“You headin to the library? I was on my way there anyway. I'll join ya.”

The (h/c) haired man nodded, and they both walked all the way to the other side of the schoolyard to the library building. Tanaka even held (Y/n)'s hand to flex on the girls they passed by. Some of the girls were noticeably annoyed or a little angry, which pleased him.

When they finally arrived, Misaki was standing by the door. Upon seeing Ryu, she scowled. But it was only for a second.

“Ah, (L/n)-kun..who's this?”

(Y/n) smiled, oblivious to Misaki and Tanaka glaring at each other. Needless to say, the intense atmosphere went right over his head. “This is my boyfriend..Tanaka. He'll be joining us if that's okay.”

“‘Perfect woman’ my ass..the only ‘perfect woman’ I know is Kiyoko-san.” Tanaka mumbled under his breath. (Y/n) may not have known, but Misaki and Tanaka were always competitive with each other. Other times he wouldn't have cared, but now that (Y/n) is what he's fighting for, he wasn't gonna back down.

“Oh, it's fine.” Misaki said through gritted teeth.

🏙️🏙️

Isayama and Tanaka were left sitting at a table alone, while (Y/n) searched for the science books. They sat in complete silence, but it was almost as if you could hear their thoughts—mentally arguing with one another.

(Y/n) returned with three books, seating himself between Isayama and Ryu. “Okay! Let's get started!”

***

As (Y/n) went on explaining the laws of physics (because Tetsurou used to tutor him), Misaki and Tanaka continued their epic staring battle. The battle ended once they noticed that (Y/n) had stopped talking. He was chewing his tongue in thought, trying to figure out how to pronounce a word.

Misaki didn't notice, but (Y/n) had gone from physics, to microbiology. In less than five minutes.

“Something wrong?”

“How do you say this word again..?” The (e/c) eyed man pointed to a bolded word in the textbook, leaning back a bit so the other two could see.

A suffocating silence reigned over the three of them, but only for about three seconds.

Isayama squinted a bit before she spoke. “Endothelial?”

“Oh yeah. Thanks, senpai.”

Isayama smiled smugly at Ryuunosuke. The said man had a visible tick mark (💢) on the side of his head, symbolizing his annoyance. Tanaka only wanted (Y/n) to call him ‘senpai’—even if they were the same age (if not, then (Y/n) might be older). It made him feel like he was a dependable upperclassman, maybe even a bit turned on in certain situations. But hearing (Y/n) call someone else senpai..made him a little sad.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating. As Tanaka reached into his pocket to get his phone, he caught (Y/n) putting his own phone in his jacket pocket. Tanaka turned on his phone to see a message from (Y/n) in his recent notifications.

Pretty boy💖: Go to the bathroom. I'll join you later.

Although he was a bit confused, he got up from his chair. “‘M gonna go take a leak.” Ryu said as he started to make his way towards the men's restroom.

Almost five minutes pass before (Y/n) goes into the bathroom after Tanaka, telling Misaki that he was checking on him. As soon as (Y/n) had passed the first bathroom stall, he was yanked into the second one, the door locking almost immediately after it shut behind him. He wasn't given any time to react before he felt a familiar pair of soft lips violently smash against his own. (Not violent enough to make his mouth bleed or anything. Chill.)

A heated battle for dominance arose between the two, (Y/n) quickly taking the lead as he gently bit Ryu's lip.

They didn't want this to end, but eventually Tanaka had to break the kiss because he couldn't breathe. He stood there, breathless in his boyfriend's arms, not wanting (Y/n) to let go.

“Ryuunosuke..” Tanaka flinched upon his first name being said—even though (Y/n) said it many times before. His reaction brought a smile to (Y/n)'s face. “I love you~..” He said, drawing out the three words in a sing-song voice.

Ryu felt his legs getting weak, and held onto (Y/n) for dear life. (Somewhat out of fear that he might fall.) He wasn't actually feeling like this because of three words...right? “Babe..am I supposed to be kinda horny right now?” It was a bit of a strange question, but hey, it never hurts to ask.

(Y/n) chuckled. “Well, yeah. I might have to carry you out of here once we're done.” His warm smile from earlier didn't falter as he spoke.

‘How can he say something like that so casually? If I say something like that, I'd get d–’ Ryu's thoughts were snapped away when he felt his chest touch the stall divider and his pants being pulled down. He let out a soft moan as (Y/n) stroked him through his boxers.

🏙️

‘What the hell is taking them so long?!’ Isayama got up from where she sat, and went to the men's bathroom. There wasn't anyone around, so no one would see her going in. She opened the first stall's door. ‘If they ditched me, I swear to go–’

“W-Wait, (Y/n)!~ Haa!~♡”

“Geez senpai, you're so wet inside~..♡”

Misaki froze. She couldn't be sure that it was (Y/n) and Tanaka in there—but those were definitely Tanaka's pants hanging over the second stall's door. Now she felt more..curious than angry. Isayama slipped into the first stall, carefully and quietly closing the door behind her, and slowly locking it so it didn't make noise.

Ryu tried to keep his breathing steady as (Y/n) fucked him with his fingers—even though that did absolutely nothing to help his current situation. Hell, he couldn't even process words anymore. The only actual word he could say was his boyfriend's name. He eventually remembered how to speak after about two minutes of being finger-fucked.

He wanted to sound more demanding, but his voice came out more whiny than what he'd have liked it to. “Fuck me already..ya fuckin– Hng!~” It may have been that he couldn't process it, or that (Y/n) had moved at the speed of sound, but Tanaka wasn't able to register how fast (Y/n) pulled his fingers out, and shoved his cock into his still tight hole. He wanted to say something, but all that came out was a choked whine.

“You were saying?~♡” (Y/n) asked, though it sounded more like a demand than a question.

Tanaka wasn't given a chance to answer due to (Y/n) ruthlessly fucking the poor man senseless. His loud whines and moans echoed throughout the bathroom, much to (Y/n)'s pleasure. He wanted everyone to know that he was a taken man. He wanted everyone on campus to hear Ryuunosuke's pleasurable cries.

Hearing the two men fucking in the next stall turned Isayama on to no end. (Even though it was more of (Y/n)'s voice that made her wet.) But she resisted touching herself because she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she masturbated to her rival getting fucked. (A kinda stupid reason, but okay.)

“Fu–fuck, (Y/n)!~ So good..it feels so good!~” Ryu babbled, the words almost incoherent as he attempted to push back against his boyfriend's cock. “More!~ Give me more!~♡” He begged, voice broken and choking on his own breath.

The (e/c) eyed man didn't say a word. As his senpai had politely asked of him, (Y/n) drove his cock so deep into Tanaka that the said man let out the loudest drawn out moan (Y/n) had ever heard from him. If it weren't for the cum spewing from the teary eyed man, (Y/n) would've thought he had hurt his lover. He wasn't entirely sure until he felt Ryu continue to push back against him, desperate for more friction.

“Aww..you're so cute when you act like a bitch in heat, senpai~..♡”

He only got a choked whine in response.

“I'm pretty close anyway..do you want it inside?~♡” (Y/n) asked, pulling the shaky man up to his chest. Again, only a whine. (Y/n) parted Ryu's lips with his fingers, those fingers soon being coated in saliva. “Use your words~..”

Finally, Tanaka spoke, despite his unintentional dry heaving. “Fuck me- please~..”

“As you wish~♡” (Y/n) almost whispered, gripping Tanaka's cock firmly, earning another broken moan from the said man. “You're the only person I'd fuck like this, you know that, right?” He said, as he rubbed the shorter man's stomach.

“Y-Yeah..that makes me happy~..”

Lmao this was like- 80% highschool drama (in a college setting), and the remaining 20% being me getting horny for no reason. Also, I'm aware this made no sense. None of the stuff I write makes sense. :)

The class session is now over!~♡

#tanaka x reader #tanaka x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #anime x male reader #m!reader #x male reader #top male reader #seme male reader #ryuunosuke x reader

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Chaotic as The Sea (3/?)

Pairing: Jack Sparrow x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3k Warning: swearing, violence Part Summary: The Black Pearl arrives in Bimini and as any adventure with Jack Sparrow, there’s chaos

Masterlist

Two days later...

Will

We arrive at Bimini as the sun begins to set. Y/N and Barbosa argue that we should wait until sunrise to explore the island. I argue that we can't waste another minute without trying to rescue Elizabeth. Jack, to my surprise, agrees that we shouldn't wait. Though, I think his reasoning is because he wants to see the fountain.

Barbosa, Jack, Gibbs, Ragetti, Pintel, Y/N, and I all hop off the boat to explore the island. Gibbs, Will, and Pintel all carry long torches for us as the only sources of light.

"Okay, so I know the general direction, but unless you feel like risking the chance of getting lost, which I don't, I suggest we use the compass," Y/N announces.

"I thought you were certain of the fountain's location," Barbosa remarks a tad agitated.

"Every tree and speck of white sand look exactly the same. Next trip, I'll drop your ass in a jungle in the middle of the night and tell you to find your way out!" She snaps.

"Okay, well then let's use the compass." Ragetti takes the compass of Jack's belt and hands it to Y/N.

The device begins to spin in her hand and Ragetti peeks over her shoulder. Jack quietly moves to stand beside her, wishing to catch a glimpse of himself.

Abruptly, Y/N shuts the compass and frantically tries to get rid of it. "Oh uh, no it's okay, Jack can take it." She tosses it to him.

"Me?" He looks at her wide-eyed and panicky. "No, give it to Will! He wants to find the bloody place." He tosses it to me.

"What's wrong with you two?" Barbosa yells in frustration.

"The compass doesn't work for them," I state.

"Seriously!" Y/N huffs.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Barbosa questions.

"When Jack holds it the arrow points to Y/N," I explain pointing between them.

"Who told you that!" Jack questions.

Then, Jack and Y/N both glare at Gibbs. "Gibbs!" They bark in unison.

The older man holds up his hands in surrender.

"Well, why can't Y/N do it?" Pintel questions timidly, circling his hands together.

"Why can't Will just bloody do it and we can move on!" The woman challenges.

Jack nods. "I'm with her on this one."

I sigh. "When Y/N holds it, it points toward whatever she wants so bad in New France."

"But isn't New France North of here?" Ragetti questions.

"Yes!" The rest of us answer in unison.

His face scrunches together in confusion. "But uh-"

Y/N elbows Ragetti in the ribs. "Shut it!" She's quick to change the subject. "Let's go! Will! I'll lead the way, you just act as a checker."

_______________________________________________

30 minutes later...

Y/N

As the seven of us continue to march through the thick jungle, Jack appears beside me. "After we're finished in New France. I say you and I pay a visit to Tortuga for old time's sake."

I laugh. "Ha! Wish to relive our break-up?"

"Think of it as a celebration of our reunion," he tries to sugarcoat it.

I roll my eyes, laughing as I move ahead to join Will up front. "In your dreams!"

Ragetti

I pick up my pace to catch up with Pintel. "I know something you don't know!"

"What?" He eagerly asks.

"When Y/N was holding the compass, the arrow was pointing toward her," I whisper.

His face scrunches together. "Y/N desires herself?"

"No!" I huff. "Jack was standing next to her!"

He gasps, putting it all together. "So you mean-"

"Yes!"

He grins. "That's kinda sweet actually."

Y/N

"Now be careful!" I announce to the men, watching my step as we get closer to the mountainside. "The natives made pit traps and other boobytraps-"

Before I can finish my warning. Jack screams from the back of the group. When I whip my head around, Jack is nowhere to be seen. "For idiots like Jack," I sigh.

"Does anyone see him?" Will questions, moving his torch around.

"It's kind of dark!" Gibbs remarks.

"Thank Jack and Will for that! They refused to wait until morning," I grumble, marching back to where I last saw Jack.

"Jack!" We all call in a scatter as we search.

"Captain!" Gibbs shouts.

We all watch our steps, checking the heavily covered jungle floor and sky for any sign of him. He could be hanging from a tree in a net or in a hole somewhere. If it's deep enough and well covered, it'll be hard to hear him.

"This is ridiculous!" Gibbs huffs.

"I say we leave him and tell the crew some natives got him," Barbosa suggests.

"I have an idea," I announce as one pops into my head. "Give me the compass," I ask Will, holding out my head.

"But how will that help?" He questions with a raised brow.

I hold the compass in my palm and lift the lid. I watch as the arrow spins. Soon, each of the men are gathered around me in a circle, eager to catch a glimpse. Then, the arrow stops, pointing Southeast. The men break apart, allowing me to follow it.

"Watch your step," I advise.

I keep a close eye on the arrow, making sure it doesn't change direction. I'm about to take another step when Will suddenly grabs my arm. I glance ahead and realize there's a massive pit in front of me. Its edges were covered in leaves and brush.

"Oh, thanks," I exhale deeply.

"Captain! You down there?" Gibbs shouts down below, holding a torch above the massive pit.

I kneel down beside the pit and await an answer.

There's a faint, "Am I dead?"

I giggle and shout back. "No, you're not dead you idiot!"

"Pintel! Ragetti! Go fetch a rope from the ship!" Barbosa commands, sending the two off.

I laugh, relieved that Jack is okay. Based on the distant swooshing sound, the pit is filled with water thankfully, not spikes. This could've been a recovery mission. I sit back on my knees and glance up to find the remaining three men staring at me with knowing grins.

"What!" I sass, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Nothing," they all say, breaking apart to roam in different directions.

I roll my eyes, such nosy people, pirates.

____________________________________________

The men work together, yanking Jack up from the bottom of the pit. I remained to kneel beside the edge, holding up a torch so we can see Jack when he pops up.

"Ho!" Barbosa calls out as they tug the robe. "Ho!"

Soon, Jack appears from within the darkness and I grip his belt, guiding him to safety. The men release the rope and relax, releasing panting breaths.

"You okay? Captain!" Gibbs questions.

"Yeah," Jack flips onto his back, catching his breath, "yeah, I should be fine. How did you-" His eyes flicker about until his eyes land on the compass on the ground beside me.

"Ah, now that's interesting." A cheeky smirk begins to form on his face as he lifts his gaze to meet mine.

I shove him in the shoulder, frustrated. "I told you to watch where you were going!" He has no idea how worried I was.

"I was a tad distracted by you, Love," he chuckles.

My eyes fall shut as I release a sigh of relief. Thank God, he's okay.

Jack places his hand on my thigh, capturing me by surprise. His dark eyes meet might and I place my hand over his. He flips his over and they interlock in my lap. His eyes soften at the sight.

Suddenly, there's a series of yells from across the jungle. Each of us tosses our heads to the side and sees small glimmers of light in the distance. Jack flies up beside me from his laid position.

"Are they with us?" He questions.

There's the ring of a gunshot and the bullet hits the tree right by Barbosa's head.

"Don't think so!" Will declares, his voice shaky.

"Who are they?" I shout.

"Wait! They're Black Beard's men! I remember one of them. He's the one who took Elizabeth!" Will determines.

“How did they find the fountain?” Barbosa yells.

“He knew you’d come and find me!” I comprehend and look over at Jack. “He’s been following us here!”

Pintel and Ragetti immediately make a run for it.

“I’m with them, time to go!” Will decides and starts to run back to the ship.

Jack takes my hand and instantly brings me to my feet. We begin to run too, hand in hand.

“Cowards!” Barbosa shouts and stands his ground. He whips out his gun and begins to shoot at the mob. “Come and get it you slimy gits! Ha!” He laughs.

Running utterly blind in the dark jungle, there’s hardly any light other than that that can make it through the tree tops from the moon. We make it through the jungle and see the beach a few yards ahead. Will and the two morons make a bee-line for the ship, when they’re suddenly stopped by a cluster of Blackbeard’s men running from down the beach. Jack pulls me into his side and draws his sword.

Suddenly, I feel a hand wrap around my wrist and I’m yanked away from Jack. He immediately whips around and his eyes grow wide. My back slams into someone’s chest and I struggle to free myself. More of Blackbeard’s men appear from within the jungle and begin to fight Jack. Two men begin to drag me off and I fling around, trying to break free.

"Jack!" I scream. “Let me go you bastards!”

Jack searches for me and when he finally spots me, he screams. "No!" He looks at me pleading and full of guilt.

As more of Blackbeard’s men appear, we both quickly realize there’s nothing either of us can do. These morons are taking me to their ship, more than likely to see their captain and to be held prisoner. This is yet another reunion I did not request.

______________________________________

After sailing out to the Queen Anne's Revenge a couple hundred yards from the island, the nasty men take me aboard and immediately drag me off to the captain’s quarters. They swing open the double doors below top deck and we enter a familiar red velvet decorated office.

A tall man stands behind the desk with his back to us. "And who do we have here?" A familiar voice purrs. When he spins around, his grin falls to confusion. "Y/N?"

"I told you! Idiots!" I huff and yank my arms free from his buffoons."Hi, Eddie," I offer a fake smile.

"Eddie?" The pair beside me repeat in unison.

The captain pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "How many times must I tell you?"

"You could hand me the Templar Treasure yourself, I won't call you Blackbeard. It's stupid," I laugh, approaching him.

"Leave us," he commands his minions. Once we’re allow, he moves to stand the other side of his desk. He props himself against it with a grin. "So, you and Jack are back together again..."

"No way in hell," I snicker, taking a look about his office. He’s changed it in the last five years. "He promised me he knew where the Templar Treasure was, I'm simply completing my half of the deal."

"Which is?" He inquires.

I stop my admiring of his decor to meet his gaze. "Showing him to the fountain."

"You would honestly betray me like that?" He acts offended my placing his hand against his chest.

"If it guaranteed me the Holy Grail? Yes,” I stand firm.

"Your loyalties still lie with that treasure? You truly are a pirate at heart,” he smirks. He rises from his position on the desk to pour us chalices of wine. As he approaches me, his eyes travel up and down my entirety. "Dare I say, you look amazing."

I accept the wine, but roll my eyes at his compliment. "Oh save it.”

He pouts dramatically. "What happened to the spirited eighteen-year-old I first met?” He reaches up and tucks strands of my hair behind my ear. “You're bitter now."

I lift my arm and knock his hand away from me. "It's called maturing."

"Have you matured enough to conclude that I'm the better man than Jack?" He smirks, stepping closer to me.

I move away from him and toward the book case against the far wall behind his desk. "I think I prefer neither of you,” I answer over my shoulder.

"One point, if I recall correctly, there was a point where you couldn't choose between us." He narrows his eyes, taking a sip of his wine as he creeps closer to me again. "Do you remember those few months in Bermuda?"

I shift of my heels, allowing my eyes to fall to the Persian rug beneath them. "It was always going to be him, Eddie..."

Abruptly, he rushes toward me and pins me against the bookcase. My wine falls out of my hand and stains the rug. "I could've had you if I wanted!" He growls.

I look him dead in the eyes with a clenched jaw. "You dare threaten me!”

He laughs mockingly. "What? Going to curse me?"

I grin. "That used to terrify you if I recall correctly."

"You're all bark and no bite. I happen to know for a fact, you don't practice dark magic!" He challenges.

"Just because I don't practice it, doesn't mean I don't know how to use it.”

There’s a commotion outside and soon the double doors swing open to reveal Jack marching in, gun drawn. While Eddie is distracted I pick up a vase off one of the shelves near me and I knock him over the head with it. The vase shatters into a hundred pieces over his head and the man falls to the ground with a thud at my feet. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I meet Jack’s gaze. His eyes flicker away from the man knocked out on the floor and up to me.

"I hate that I'm relieved to see you," I pant.

He runs over to me and takes my hand. "Consequence of loving me." He guides me over to one of the windows and swings it open. “Can you jump?”

I look at him as though he as three heads. “Can you jump? What kind of dumb question is that?” I mock. Then, I ask him a similar dumb question. “I don’t know Jack, can you swim?” I roll my eyes and climb up onto the windowpane and jump out.

“Jesus, Mary, and the bloody camel sorry for asking!” I hear him grumble under his breath as climbs out the window and jumps in after me.

___________________________________

Jack

We’re not sure how we’ll get Elizabeth back, but we will. Though, I suspect that he was never after the fountain. No, what he truly wanted was Y/N and the fountain was just a cover-up. I brought her right to him. For now, we just need to create some distance between us so we can form a plan.

Y/N climbs the ladder above me and Gibbs helps her on board. She offers him a thank you and brushes herself down. The crew is well into their tasks, getting us far from this island as soon as possible.

“Glad to see you’re safe, Miss,” Gibbs greets.

“Did everyone make it back okay?” She questions as I climb aboard.

“Yes, even I,” Barbosa announces with a proud grin. “Not with the help of you lot,” he adds.

“Don’t exactly have a death wish,” she giggles.

“There’s a change of clothes for you in the Captain’s office,” Gibbs informs her.

She offers him thanks and begins toward my quarters. Barbosa and Gibbs break apart to return to their positions.

“You! Hold it!” I call out.

The two men glance in my direction, wondering who I’m speaking to. They follow my gaze to Y/N.

She whips her head around, her gorgeous, long, wavy, Y/H/C flowing in the breeze. She crosses her arms over chest. “Excuse me?” She scoffs with a grin forming on her lips.

I narrow my gaze at her. “I have one question.”

Barbosa and Gibbs watch the interaction, their heads tilting back and forth between us with each exchange. The crew too watches as they attempt to multitask with their duties. Her eyes remain on the deck panels and anywhere else but me.

“Did you know the compass would lead you to me?” I ask.

There’s a pause and I can tell she’s reluctant to answer despite the amused expression she wears. Then, her eyes rise to meet mine with a sigh. “Yes... maybe...”

I smirk, approaching her slowly. “Oh see now that’s interesting, don’t you think?”

“What? Just going to gloat about the ship now?” She rolls her eyes, directing her focus in the distance away from me.

I bring my hands up to her cup her face and make her meet my gaze. To my surprise and pleasure, she doesn’t move from her spot or shove me away. Instead, brings her fingers to hook through the loops of belt.

“You stay with me from now on. No more hiding out.” I smirk. “That’s an order,” I tease quietly between us.

“Whatever you say...” Her eyes fall to my lips and then flicker back to my eyes. She grins. “Captain.”

One my hands slips behind her head to her neck and I bring my lips to meet hers in a needy kiss. Her arms fling over my shoulders, deepening the kiss.

“Now they’re going to be insufferable!” I hear Barbosa grumble to Gibbs as he stomps off.

Five years of searching for her, waiting for, wondering if I’ll ever see her again. What happened between us all those years ago is one of my greatest regrets if not the biggest. Our relationship has never been easy, in fact it’s exceedingly complicated and one giant headache. We haven’t stopped arguing since the moment we met and rarely agree on anything. Yet, we love as we do argue with each other, passionately and with everything we have. Now that I have Y/N back and I know she loves me in return, I’m never letting her go. God help me if I let Blackbeard anywhere near her.

_______________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @subwonwooagenda @starfire56 @doveygirlkay-blog @dansyberry @dansyberry @meany-marcelini @naturallyathief @oliviamae4193 @xxshoutxx @house-chase465636 @the-clint-barton @lxr1582 @m00ny-stars @lonliest-love @meandmymessyminds @jick-n0nas @biracy @kriimu10 @soxpoprocks @peachyplxm @captainluciabianchin @cannibalistic-cicada @a-e-i-owe-you @velvetsnaiil @mindifislytherin666 @bunkyung @livinglifewithoutbeingseen @ghosts-face @mx-pibbles @bigplaidwinnerparty @greentea121598 @that-eco-bitch

#pirates of the caribbean #pirates of the carribean imagine #jack sparrow imagine #jack sparrow #jack sparrow fanfic #jack sparrow x reader #PotC #will turner #elizabeth swann

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katyasrussianaccent · 3 years

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i don't wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips (corpse x reader)

Summary: Corpse suggests you flirt with each other to mess with the fans. What happens when you suddenly catch feelings?

Authors Note: This has been in my brain for so long so I decided to write it. May or may not write a part 2, im not sure. Lemme know what you think! My requests are open for fic/headcannons aswell 💖

It should have been simple.

Flirt, mess with the fans a little, sit back and relax.

It should have been simple.

You remember Corpse coming to you with the idea.

“Why would we do that?” you had asked, frowning at your phone screen. It had been another late night phone conversation with him; something that was starting to become a regular occurrence.

You pictured him shrug as he answered. “Fun?”

“Are you so bored you wanna make a fake relationship with me?”

“Not a relationship. Just do what we do now, but like, more.”

You had agreed before your brain had even registered it. On paper it was straightforward. You already flirted a little anyway, you were naturally a flirtatious person, and so was he. It made sense; or at least you had told yourself that it did. You knew the fans already shipped you together, you saw the things they tweeted as you occasionally lurked the ynhusband tag on Twitter. It was just innocent fun right? No-one was going to get hurt.

For a little while that was true. For a little while he called you baby and you called him darling and it meant nothing. Your face didn’t feel flush when he commented on your latest Instagram post and your heart didn’t do a little flip when he would call you just to see how you were. The phone conversations were your favourite; curled up in bed with the phone on your pillow, trading secrets into the night. He had suddenly become this constant in your life, this almost routine familiarity like brushing your teeth or going to get milk.

You weren’t sure what changed, when it had gone from being innocent fun to meaning something. It was like someone had flicked a switch, and Corpse was no longer a warm glow but this bright, blinding light that hurt your eyes to look at too long. It was almost cruel, the way you wanted something so unobtainable; the universe’s idea of a joke had no humour in it. The thing with Corpse was he was so unaware of the power he had. He was mysterious yes, but he was faceless among a sea of faces; of course people were drawn to him. And you were just another.

You started to pull away. You played different games with different people, you ignored his tweets. It was easier, if you never interacted with him, you could pretend there was nothing but shallow feelings instead of the crashing waves that threatened to pull you under. The fans had started to notice; your streams were filled with questions that you refused to answer.

“Where’s Corpse?” you read aloud as you scrolled down the chat. “Probably in his house? Go ask him.” Your tone was bitter even to you and you inwardly cringed. He hadn’t contacted you in 2 weeks, and while you were thankful, you were hurt by it. It was stupid and hypoctritical of you to be upset by something that was your own doing, and you weren’t sure what you had expected from him. He had other friends, other people to talk to, why would he have cared about you anyway?

Your phone lit up next to you, and you ignored the pang of disappointment at Rae’s picture flashing up.

Rae: Among Us???

You hesitated for a second. The likelihood of Corpse being there was high, but you knew deep down he wouldn’t say a thing to you, not on stream or in front of your friends. You could just ignore him, like you had been doing and it would be fine. You weren’t sure you believed yourself anymore.

“Guys, you want to watch me play Among Us? I’m not sure who’s playing, other than Rae.” You looked at the fast flowing stream of affirmatives and emojis. Guess you had to do it now. You opened up the game and joined the lobby.

“-yeah she looks really fucking cute,” you heard Corpse say as you logged in. You looked down at your outfit,; he definitely wasn’t talking about you in your oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. You had been on stream for a few hours now; your eyeliner was smudged a little and any lipstick had worn off with the constant drinking and licking your lips. No, he definitely wasn’t talking about you.

“Hey guys,” you said tentatively, swallowing down the feeling of jealousy at Corpse’s previous words.

A chorus of greetings hit you, and you smiled at their enthusiasm. You had played with Rae, Sykunno and Toast a few times before, but Felix, Jack and Ash were new to you, though you knew of them.

“Hey Y/N,” Corpse said. You had hoped after 2 weeks he wouldn’t still affect you so much, but the way your stomach turned said otherwise.

“Hey Corpse,” you replied, hoping your tone was casual.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?” he asked.

“Oh. Uh yeah, I’ve been a bit busy I guess, how are you?” You looked down as you answered, picking at your nail polish. You glanced at the chat that was filled with messages.

corpsesbaby: You can always tell when someones lying coz they look down” llamadelrey: why is this so awkward lmao arent they friends??” simpsforrae: This is like is a breakup i swear

“I’ve been okay, thanks” Corpse answered, drawing your eyes off the chat and back to the game. You nodded as you muted your mic to go back to your stream.

“I hope I don’t get imposter, I always suck at that so much.” You watched as the screen counted down and the word IMPOSTER flashed up alongside Corpse’s name. “Guess I jinxed it guys.”

Great. Not only were you imposter, you were imposter with Corpse, which meant you would have to actually speak to him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to.

You both followed Rae as she walked up towards Greenhouse, and you cornered her while she did her task, killing her quickly.

“Everyone seemed to go right, so we should vent back towards cafeteria to avoid suspicion,” Corpse said.

“Okay,” you answered. You vented together, and you muted your mic to laugh. “This is kinda cosy guys.” You said to your chat. You briefly imagined what it would be like in real life to be so close to him.

You moved to Admin where Toast was doing his task. Before you could say a word, Corpse had already killed him and you both vented outside Cafeteria. “Fuck, that was so close,” you muttered, chuckling a little.

“Don’t worry, I got your back,” he replied, making your heart sing a little.

“Oh my hero,” you said, making a point of swooning to your chat, your voice high and airy. “How will I ever repay you?”

He chuckled, “You shouldn’t ask questions like that.”

You flushed at the suggestive tone he had taken, and you hoped it wasn’t noticeable but judging by the comments in your chat, it clearly had been. This was another issue you had with Corpse; he always made these type of comments with you and it was really annoying. You knew there was no chance he was being serious, and sometimes you wished he would stop it purely because it got your hopes up.

delilah: shes BLUSHING dreamofme: uWu yn uWu

You opened your mouth to respond when Dead Body Reported flashed up, bringing your thoughts back to the game.

“Toast and Rae are dead,” Sykuuno said. “I found Rae in Greenhouse and Toast in admin.”

“I was in balcony, I went there from the cafeteria,” you said confidently. You hated being Imposter, especially being teamed with Corpse, who was so good at the game, you had a lot of pressure to do well.

“I was in MedBay, I didn’t see you YN,” Ash accused.

“You only see if they enter through the left door. She entered through the other door,” Corpse answered for you.

“And how do you know that?” Felix asked.

“I was in Cafeteria,” Corpse replied.

“You could’ve vented YN,” Jack said.

“No I couldn’t have, if Ash was in MedBay, she would have seen me. Unless she wasn’t in MedBay,” you suggested, smirking to your cam as you muted. “It’s not going too bad I don’t think? Always feel like I’ve been arrested when I’m Imposter.”

“Little sus of you Ash to say you were in MedBay when you weren’t,” Corpse said. You gaped a little at how easy it was for him to manipulate the situation, it was almost scary.

Ash argued as the other players began to agree and discuss among themselves. You smiled in success at the text on the screen.

Ash has been ejected.

You split up this time, and while you hadn’t really spoken during the game, you kind of missed Corpse’s astronaut next to yours, and you said that to your chat. “Haha, our colours did look cute together, I agree.”

Any previous trepidation you had had disappeared as soon as you had heard his voice; and you realised how much you had missed him. You would simply just need to deal with your feelings; they would go away eventually anyway. You just hoped it wasn’t too late for you to start again with him.

You walked to MedBay with Skyunno, making small talk as you did.

“I’m glad to see you playing with us, it’s been a little while,” he said and you felt bad that you would have to kill him. As you turned towards him, ready to kill as he did his task, Jack walked in. You mouthed oops at the cam.

“What’s going on here?” Jack asked, suspicion in his voice.

“I was just saying how nice it was to have YN here,” Sykunno replied. You stood and faked your task, watching the green bar fill as you did. It would be too risky to kill here.

“Ah yeah, Corpse has been asking after you constantly,” Jack said. You blinked at the response, it had caught you off guard.

“Oh?” you replied simply. You mentally shrugged it off. Of course he would have asked about you, you were friends, that was all.

DEAD BODY REPORTED

“Felix was dead in Reactor,” Corpse announced. “Oh Corpse, you’re taking a risk here” you said to your chat.

“I was in MedBay with Jack and Sykunno,” you replied, smiling as they agreed. “Where were you Ash?”

She sighed sadly. “I was in Labs, but I was doing a task, I swear!” You all agreed quickly that Ash would be the next voted out.

“2 to go,” you said triumphantly. “I thought I was gonna drag Corpse down, but it’s going okay!”

The round started again and you could feel yourself getting tired. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too much longer to finish the game.

You circled round Corpse a few times, hoping that he would understand your signal. Luckily he did, and you both vented to Decontamination where Skyunno and Jack were. The room had already started to emit steam, making it extremely easy for you both to vent unnoticed and kill them both.

You grinned at the Victory message that flashed up.

“Good game guys!” you said. The others congratulated you and Corpse on your win and you smiled at the sound of your names together. You had it bad.

“It was all YN,” Corpse said.

“Pfft you ssh being humble, it was all you,” you replied, taking your hair out of your ponytail and running your hand through it.

“Your hair looks nice,” Corpse commented and your eyes widened. Your heart started to beat a little quicker. How long had he been watching your stream?

“It’s bad to watch someone’s stream without telling them,” you replied, making a show of pouting for the camera.

He laughed a little. “What can I say, I’m a bad guy,” he said, singing the last words. You laughed at the sudden Billie Eilish.

“Guys, either play another game, or get a room,” Felix interrupted. You blushed a little and rolled your eyes, the chat going crazy from the corner of your eye.

“And that’s my cue to exit,” you said, yawning. “Bye guys, have a good night!” You wished everyone and your chat goodnight before closing the stream and leaning back in your chat. You couldn’t believe Corpse had been watching you. You hadn’t said anything too incriminating, but still.

You prepared for bed, settling back into the softness of your pillows as you grabbed your phone - a terrible habit you really needed to stop.

Corpse: Can I call you?

You gulped at the message that appeared on your screen, a gnawing feeling of nervous clung to your throat as you typed yes. His name came up almost instantaneously and your hand shook as you pressed to accept the call.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even while your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“It was nice playing with you again,” he commented.

You sat up a little as you held the phone against your ear. “Did you call me to tell me that?”

“I haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

You sighed a little. “Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy, sorry - “

“You’re lying to me and I don’t know why,” he replied. You had never heard his voice like that before; so angry and hurt. You tapped your foot against your mattress as you thought what to say.

“I -”

“Did I do something?” he asked. You had been so selfish; blocking him out to avoid being hurt, but you hadn’t thought about his feelings. He was more popular than you were, you had assumed he would be fine, that he wouldn’t care if you were around or not.

“No, you didn’t do anything, I swear -”

“Then what? Because I thought we were friends, close friends and then suddenly you pretty much disappear. But you’re still streaming with other people. It’s pretty shitty of you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek and looked up, the sting of tears threatening to fall. “It was really shitty of me, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” he asked. “Please just tell me.”

“I don’t know what I’m meant to say,” you replied softly.

“What do you want to say?”

You blinked, the anticipation of unspoken words caught in your throat, making it hard to swallow. The taste of them was bitter on your tongue. “I...I have feelings for you.”

There. You had said it. There was no taking it back now, and you felt like your heart was about to shatter with every single second of silence that passed. You could hear him swallow on the other end of the phone. “Are you saying you’re in love with me?”

You bit your lip, taking in the meaning of the question he had asked. It wasn’t something you had thought of, you hadn’t conceptualised your feelings for him, not put them in a box labelled love or anything. “I don’t know. I feel something for you. And it kinda sucks being your friend and having those feelings. So I pulled away.”

“Why does it suck?”

You laughed bitterly. “Why wouldn’t it? Feeling something for someone that doesn’t feel the same is fucking shitty.”

“I asked you to flirt with me YN -”

“Yeah, for fun,” you interrupted.

“No, I said for fun, but really I just wanted you to,” he replied. “I feel something for you too. How could I not? Has anything I’ve ever said to you sounded like it was just for fun?” You smiled at his response, your heart no longer on the fit of breaking, but suddenly doing flips and soaring through your chest, radiating warmth through your body.

“Oh,” you said, your brain was overloaded with thoughts, and was apparently no longer capable of coherent sentences.

“Oh? That’s a great response, thanks,” he teased, but you could tell he was smiling as he spoke.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that, I don’t really know what to say honestly,” you replied.

“Well, baby, how about you say yes to a date?” he asked.

“Yes.”

#my fic #corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse fic #corpse fanfiction #corpse husband fic #corpse fanfic #corpse imagine #corpse x you #corpse x fem reader #corpse x yn #corpse x reader

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difx-writes · 3 years

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Wildest Dreams - In the Death of the Night

Masterlist

After turning 10 and losing her soulmate, Marinette would imagine how Damian Wayne would be.

Would he be tall or short? Did he have blond hair or brown or did he dyed it? Would he be shy or have a bold personality? Perhaps he was an artistic soul, a poet, a writer? Or would he be a baker like her parents? Why did his last name change?

The wonders and questions took over her mind for days with no end.

On good days, she imagined how he would interact with her friends, how her parents would take him in as their own son, how he would fit into her life.

She liked to talk to him, pretending there, alive, with her. She asked his opinion on what to wear, how she should do her hair, what colors with go well with the design. He was her voice of reason. Talking to "Damian" brought a smile to her face, even when she knew she was deluding herself.

On bad days, she pretended he was right there with her, comforting her, encouraging her, whispering that everything would be alright... Sometimes it worked and she felt better the next days but most times she felt bitter, she felt robbed of a future where he was in her life.

The realization that the person she was supposed to share her soul with was no longer alive, that his death was painful, gruesome, and... lonely... It always ended with her taking a few days to prevent a breakdown...

When she turned 13, Hawkmoth appeared and Marinette became Ladybug, the hero of Paris.

Soon after, Marinette stopped talking with "Damian", she couldn't afford to wonder about him anymore. She couldn't afford the bliss of her own delusions. She couldn't afford to let herself grief and fall pray to Hawkmoth's manipulation.

As she couldn't fail Paris and its citizens, Damian Wayne mostly disappeared from her life.

But there were days when her “friends” demanded a lot from her, akumas were too violent and draining and everything was just too much, those the godawful days.

On godawful days she wished Damian was there to take her away to a place she could feel she belonged. Away from everything to a place she could call a home.

_______

Most nights Damian recalls a voice talking to him during the time he was dead.

His soulmate, he supposed, talked to him regularly, she started her day asking his opinion on her outfit for the day, when at home she would tell him how her day went, what she did with her friends, what she learned in class, etc...

At first, Damian was pretty much annoyed that he couldn't "rest in peace" with all the noise pollution but after a few weeks, he slowly started to tolerate her talking to him.

Unfortunately, he couldn't talk to her nor see her very clearly so it was a pleasant surprise when Marinette would ask his opinion to make a decision, she always picked what he chooses.

Perhaps it was their bond that allowed her to know what he was thinking without actually hearing each other's thoughts. Or maybe they were more in sync with one another. Most likely it was pure luck on her part. (Him being dead is enough proof of how bad his luck was.)

In the months he was dead, Damian learned a grand lot Marinette. He liked how she made him feel he wasn't alone, like how her voice calmed him when he remembered the family he left behind in his death. Marinette was his only lighthouse in the vast void of the afterlife

_______

Impotent, despair, and hopeless.

That's how Damian felt every time Marinette had to relive his death. He hated it so much. She didn't deserve that and it broke his heart every damn time.

Why did he have to die? Why did it have to be in such a painful way? Why did she have to feel it on repeat over and over and over again? Was it a twisted way the universe tried to make them reunited? If they can't find each other in life, then they can be together in death? That isn't right!

But it always hurts more when she wakes up and talks to him. Wondering if he was happy and in peace, in wherever place he ended up.

He was there but she didn't know.

He felt sick.

After being revived, Damian felt an immense sense of loss. Sure, he was kinda happy to reunite with his family and grateful for being alive again, but he missed her.

It was difficult to readjust to being alive again, it was crystal clear that Damian Wayne wasn't okay. What hurts him the most was how her name turned into a scar on his wrist.

During the day paranoia settled in making him always on high alert, lashing out when it got too much for him.

In the night, he couldn't sleep properly as a feeling of unease latched onto his every nerve and when he did sleep, nightmares plagued him.

Damian tried to calm down in various ways, but ultimately it was Marinette's voice that soothed him and lulled him to sleep.

It quickly became a habit to replay their one-sided conversations as he tries to fall asleep.

He went over what Marinette Dupain-Cheng spoke to him time and time again as to engrave her voice in his mind. Unfortunately, her voice was fading away, every time he recalled it, he hear his own voice.

At least some memories remained, which was relieving for Damian, even when important ones like what language she spoke or the name of her school were completely wiped out.

He never told his family his experience while he was dead, he guesses Jason was the most likely to know about it but he never brought it up to anyone, so Damian did the same.

Now he was lying in bed, remembering about the time Marinette tried embroidery for the first time.

She started by searching up what she wanted it to be and after much talking, she chose a Robin, Damian smile at the eagerness he felt for her to chose it. It was a fun day, with her making comments here and there about the work, he wishes he could see it.

A knock woke him up of his thoughts, Alfred emerging from the door.

"Master Damian, I'm here to inform you a guest will be joining us for tomorrow's dinner."

"Whose guest?" He didn't really feel like dealing with new people.

"It's Master Jason's guest."

Damian groans, perhaps he could go visit Kent.

"It would be in your best interest to participate, Master Damian." Alfred gave him a look.

He sighed, definitely can't miss tomorrow or he'll have to face Pennyworth.

So, I've written another chapter while listening to a sad song on repeat :') I know it doesn’t really connect to the last chapter but I wasn’t feeling okay and didn’t know how to continue from where I left off.

I hope y’all enjoyed this and have a nice day!

P.S.: The taglist is temporarily closed as some tags aren't working. Again, I'm very sorry if I missed anyone. If you no longer want to be tagged please hit me up.

Taglist:

@thestressmademedoit @moonlightstar64 @dast218 @moonystars14 @buticaaba @urbanpineapplefarmer @thedragonbug @little-lady-bird @an-actual-changeling @ladybug-182 @ash-amg @g-arya @nnon-it-up @hateswifi @maribat-is-lifeblood @kikooaaaaaa @jessigurl-design @vixen-uchiha @acoursedprophetwithasmothie @snow-leopard-777 @theatreandcomicfreak @zalladane @fusser90 @finallyaniguana @danielslilangel @dreamykitty25 @corabeth11 @ellymae21 @books-and-left-behind-journals @hetalia-lover-is-here @dorkus-minimus @magic-miraculous @waywardpeachgardenshark @darkthunder1589 @jaggedheart11 @daminettes @todaylillypads @schrodingers25 @pheonixashtree @mikantsume @eliza-bich @miraculous-simmer7 @goblinwhoships @fidget-eep @rosalineandrosemary @lunarwolfspn @more-or-less-human-i-guess @aestheticnpoetic @amayakans @abrx2002 @karategirl119 @agentofscifi @flower-and-drawing @itsmeevie01 @suddenly-i-kin-oikawa @ii-fox-demon @thatonecroc @dawnwave16 @bigpicklebananatree @violentbisexualprophecywriter @scribblinggraveyard @heaven428 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ravennightingaleandavatempus @chylou34 @silvergold-swirl @magictragic-world @snowstar1016 @heldtogetherbysafetypins @awkwardoneout @novicevoice @thenillabean @bookishdork13 @laurcad123 @thezestywalru @k-poplunardreams @coloursforyourportrait @fandomsaremylifeline @goddessofthewestwind @captainmac6 @chocolatecatstheron @princessanimeangel11 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @ur-beautiful-when-u-smile @batlover1303 @softlysobbingpostendgame @justconfusedperiod @clumsy-owl-4178 @bluesimani @iwritelikeimrunningoutoftime @kokotaru @totalyasexual @professionalfangirl1738 @nitholites @zestyzealot @pawsitivelymiraculous @autiegirlshit @raz-b-rose @thanks-captain-obvious @emilytopaz @nightstarblue @2confused-2doanything @niknak-3 @blackroserelina @fortunatelyoptimisticdeer @ira-sairain @pepelachanel @naimena @iloveitwhen @disneyfoxuniverse @ur-average-reader @lylshyt @jerusalemandolives @anonymously-odd @southamericanghotamite @a-star-with-a-human-name @we-want-mini-mini @literallytryingmybestbutok @alenee13 @animegirlweeb @our-preciousss @prudencerika @byronsacademics @ivymala07 @shamefullove @susiej1118 @technicallyburninggarden @sentimentalcrap @ertyzeta @tomanyfandomsonmymind @starmist19 @synnesstra @nokia75 @swiftie-miraculer13 @solideogloria172 @a-door-into-my-mind @road-work-ahead123 @madking-warqueen @caseoftheblues @buginetye @ihavehomeworkbutistillhere @i-wanna-go-to-outerspace @insane-fangirl-of-everything @ultimatetornshipper @chaoticstarworld @adrestar @wolf-for-life @blacktea-ba @pinkk-sheep @autiegirlshit @chocolateherringtacofan @blackroserelina @samopotahto @blur-of-colours @stainedglassm @redbullgivescaswings @khneltea @amigotasbien @sdg-demachera @alyssadeliv @greatcatblaze @raesofmoonlight @galla02006 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @novaloptr @qualitypeacepainter @solangelo252 @unnamed2357 @thespianlesb @mildlydeadly @yuriyuhitsu @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @literaryhiraeth @luna025 @henie04 @trashesa @castle-bookworms-world

#daminette #maridami #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #maribat #ml x dc #soulmate au #angst #in the death of the night

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mercy-burning · 3 years

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Move This Along

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After months of waiting, Spencer decides he finally wants to have sex with Reader. Category: SMUT (18+) Warnings: Language, sex (oral sex- female receiving, virgin!Spence, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie) Word Count: 5.6k

Full Request: “...so a smutty oneshot with like virgin!spencer but im talkling like baby spence. and hes super blushy and cute but then when it happens its rlly raunchy and therws a lot of dirty talk. and like reader doesnt work at the bau but theyre close friends. and like she goes out to a bar with him and the team and they tease him so then she takes him home and literally fucks him after a movie or smth idk...” — @mggscumrag

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: It took me forever to figure out how I wanted to do this, but once I did, it came out so quickly! I hope it’s to your liking 🥰

***

The first time she went out to meet Elle's friends from work, Y/N found herself absolutely nervous, and she wasn't sure why. She was always great with meeting new people, but for some reason, the prospect of meeting her next-door neighbor's co-workers seemed to really do a number on her.

She remembers how anxious she'd been, constantly worrying that they wouldn't like her, not to mention they were all probably super smart and strong and intimidating, just like Elle. Anyone who aided in putting away serial killers, rapists, and other monsters had to be just about the most intimidating personality there ever was.

But as Y/N soon learned, that wasn't quite the case at all.

To be fair, they were all intimidating in their own little ways, though it was really easy to forget about that when she was laughing with them, sharing drinks and stories, and exchanging phone numbers to stay in touch.

That's how she and Spencer had come to be good friends. Despite how obviously shy he was whenever they saw each other, the two of them managed to have conversations on just about everything. It usually happened that he talked and she listened to whatever he was teaching her, but she'd always add on the occasional, "Wow, I didn't know that," or "That's really fascinating." All of which she could tell he was surprised at and appreciated.

And since the first time they met at Elle's birthday party, the night she met the whole team for the first time, they'd been practically inseparable. While Y/N was good friends with the whole team, save for Gideon, who always seemed to like it better by himself, her relationship with Spencer seemed to even surpass the bond she'd built with her neighbor-slash-best friend.

Elle even told her as much one Saturday night, as the two of them were driving to the bar to meet up with everyone for a few drinks.

She'd mentioned it as a joke, but Y/N was instantly apologetic.

Elle only laughed. "Don't apologize. Actually, I think it's good that Reid has another friend outside of work. You're good for him. And you know, I think he has a little crush on you."

Warmth rushed to Y/N's cheeks, and she tried to hide it but failed miserably, causing Elle to give her a knowing smile. "Y—You don't know what you're talking about, Elle, it's not like that."

"Oh come on, it totally is. You give him the light of day when no one else does, he talks about you all the time, and everyone at work knows it."

She paused. "They... do?"

"Of course they do, we're all profilers, but it doesn't take one to see how obsessed that boy is with you. I think you should go for it."

Y/N would have been lying if she said she hadn't thought about asking him out. But in the end she had always figured it was a little weird, being that she was friends with all his and Elle's co-workers and she'd kinda been adopted into their family of sorts. But hearing what her neighbor was saying... She started to think differently about it.

"You really think so?"

Elle nodded. "Absolutely."'

"Okay," she replied with an excited smile. "Maybe I will, then."

A week later and the two of them started dating. Y/N always thinks back to the first few weeks of their relationship, how adorably shy and blush-prone Spencer was, even after they'd been together for some time. They spent almost all their free time together, and it still seemed like he was nervous to be around her. He'd assured her on multiple occasions that that wasn't the case, but Y/N still wondered why he hadn't fully warmed up to being around her.

Especially in public. Oh, in public it was worse. Y/N clung to his arm, and his face immediately got red. What confused her the most, though, was that every time she pulled away to make him more comfortable, he pulled her back in, seemingly desperate to feel her warmth.

In the end she and Spencer had grown to develop their own little communication system for public settings, something to let the other know when something was really wrong, and when to ask if the other was comfortable.

One night everyone was meeting after a rough case somewhere in Denver, and Y/N offered to buy everyone drinks once Spencer had called to tell her they were all back. It wasn't out of the ordinary for her to do that, but it had been a while, so everyone was quick to except. Well, mostly everyone— Gideon as per usual went his separate way, and Hotch was eager to get home and see his family.

Y/N was waiting for them at their favorite bar downtown when she heard a loud squeal that sounded a lot like her name. Sure enough, it was easy to spot a very yellow-clad Penelope Garcia headed straight towards her with her arms stretched out for a hug when she turned around. The smile she adorned was instantaneous as her arms came out a well, embracing Penelope with a large hug that almost knocked the wind out of her.

"I missed you!" she exclaimed, still hugging Y/N and swaying them back and forth a little. "I mean, I know I don't ever travel with the team, but because of that we should hang out more."

"Next time I need some company, I know who to call."

Y/N spotted Spencer then, behind Penelope and patiently waiting for a greeting. She smiled at him and whispered, "Hi," to which Penelope must have heard.

She quickly released her from their embrace and stepped out of the way. "Oh! I'm sorry, I'm keeping you from your boy wonder."

She laughed as she transferred from Penelope's arms to Spencer's. He muttered a little, "Hi," into her hair as she squeezed him and shoved her face into his neck. If she had to bet, he was probably red as a tomato right now with how close her mouth was to his neck—it was his weakness and she knew it. And just to tease him a little bit she quickly kissed up his neck, his jaw, and placed a decent peck on his lips before pulling away and grabbing his hand.

Despite the shy smile and the blush adorning his cheeks, he squeezed her hand tight and kept her at his side like they would die if they weren't touching at all times.

Everyone gave little greetings to Y/N as they all made their way to a large booth near the back. Y/N was sitting on one side with Elle to her right and Spencer to her left, while Derek, Penelope, and JJ sat across from them. Y/N got them all their preferred drinks, and a beer for herself, which Spencer couldn't help but find oddly attractive.

He glanced over at her as she took swigs from the bottle as the night progressed, and for whatever reason the sight made his insides all warm and tingly. And when she used her unoccupied hand to grab his under the table, rubbing gentle circles over the inside of his palm with her thumb, he'd never felt more in love with another person. He wasn't even drinking any alcohol, yet his head swam and his heart soared all the same, every bone in his body humming with euphoria at just the mere thought of her.

He must have been staring a little too obviously, because Derek kicked his leg under the table, pulling him from the lovesick daydream he never wanted to leave.

"I can't tell if those are cute ol' puppy dog eyes or bedroom eyes," Derek laughed, and everyone laughed right alongside him.

"Oh, stop it," Penelope said, swatting his arm. "He's obviously just very in love with her, what more could you need to know?"

"Oh, come on, tell me you're not curious to know how they... operate."

She smacked him harder this time, and everyone laughed.

Knowing her boyfriend didn't really care for the spotlight, especially when it came to their relationship, Y/N squeezed Spencer's hand under the table in reassurance. She drew a question mark in his palm, their signal for, "Are you uncomfortable?" And he responded by drawing an "X" in her palm, their answer for, "No." She laced their fingers together then, and set her beer down.

"Morgan, our sex life isn't any of your business," she stated simply.

Spencer felt his stomach churn at the sentence, if only because said sex life was, as of late, non-existent.

He and Y/N had made out a lot, sure, but the one time they did try having sex, he made it about ten seconds being inside of her before he finished, and since then he'd been kind of embarrassed about it. They only ever made out since then, because before it ever got that far he stopped it, nervous that he'd disappoint her.

And now his non-existent sex life was the topic of conversation, and if anyone picked up on it, he would have felt worse about the whole thing.

So, he didn't stop himself from speaking. "But if you must know, it's great."

Y/N's hand tensed up in his, and she looked over at him, shock marinating in her eyes. To anyone else it would have looked like she was surprised he'd even bring it up, but he knew she was most likely more curious to know why he'd lied about it.

Their friends laughed regardless, Elle adding a curious and joking, "Care to elaborate?"

Ready to change the subject, Spencer shook his head. "Nope."

"Yeah, actually I think we're gonna head out early," Y/N added. Spencer was suddenly worried he'd made her upset, but she rubbed gentle circles into his hand that reassured him everything was okay.

He got out of the booth and Y/N followed, as their friends grumbled.

"Oh, come on, we didn't mean to embarrass you guys," Derek said.

"No, that's not it," Y/N said as she threw on a light jacket. "You just reminded me how much I'd like to operate with my boyfriend since I haven't seen him in a few days, so we're leaving. Have a good night."

Spencer felt searing heat rise to his cheeks as he turned around and ushered Y/N out the door, accompanied by low whistles and claps from their friends.

***

The two of them were sitting on the couch now, Y/N having just set down a couple classes of water.

"Sorry if you wanted to stay," she said quietly, playing with her thumbs. "You know we don't... actually have to operate if you don't want, obviously, I was just looking for something to say..."

"Oh, Y/N, I know. Don't worry about it. Really, I... I was the one who even brought it up, I should have just let you handle it."

She looked up at him with a small smile. "Why.. did you bring it up anyway?"

"Well, I... I guess I just felt embarrassed. And I know what we do together isn't any of their business, but I was just... I really was thinking about how much I love you, and when Morgan brought it up, I felt like I wasn't... living up? To your expectations? I don't..." He sighed, unsure how to properly articulate how he was feeling. "I don't know. I just thought about the last time we tried having sex, and I felt embarrassed about it, that's all."

"Oh, honey," Y/N cooed, scooting closer to him and bringing her hand up to brush some of the hair from his face. "You know, you... don't have anything to prove, right? I know how much you love me, and you don't need to be having sex with me to show me, I hope you know that."

Still, he couldn't bring himself to look at her face. "I do," he choked out, pulling at the hem of his shirt. "I'm... I'm sorry."

Y/N's tongue clicked, and she leaned into him, wrapping one of her arms around his neck and placing the other across his lap. She held him tight and kissed the side of his head. "Don't you ever be sorry, unless you cheat on me. Then there will be something to be sorry about."

He laughed at her joke, turning his head to brush his nose against hers. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered, giving him the lightest of kisses on the lips.

When she pulled away, he leaned in again, kissing her a little harder, and she gladly reciprocated. With every passing second, all of his worries started to melt away like the snow to her sunshine. Within every kiss was an emanation of outpouring love and comfort that warmed his soul and gave him the confidence to try something bold.

His hands threaded through her hair as he drew her in closer, and instinctively, she climbed over his lap, resting her hands on his shoulders as he gently probed her mouth with his tongue. The sound of her sigh as she opened up to him and allowed him to fully explore her mouth with his made his stomach bubble and tense.

This would be about the time where he'd stop, telling Y/N that they should slow down, and she'd sweetly oblige and stay cuddled into his side as they drifted off to sleep.

But tonight he didn't want that.

Tonight he wanted more.

While one of his hands remained in her hair, gently massaging her scalp, the other snaked down to her lower back. He gently slid his fingers under the fabric of her shirt and pressed his palm flat against her, pulling her closer to him with a desperation that both shocked and excited her.

Deciding to test the waters, Y/N rolled her hips, feeling him jump slightly underneath her, followed by a whine that vibrated her mouth and sent a low hum of pressure through her stomach.

Still, she pulled away.

Well... She tried to.

When she pulled her face away from him, Spencer used the hand in her hair to bring her back, tilting his head in the other direction and continuing to kiss her with enough passion for the both of them. And it didn't help that the sound she made when he did it spurred him on. She whimpered loudly into his mouth, and the hand on her back involuntarily slid down to grab her ass.

"Hey," she managed to get out when he pulled away momentarily for air. "Hey, you don't... We don't have to really do this if you don't want. I—I don't want you to think that what happened earlier means we have to have sex."

"Y/N..." His hand gently kneaded her ass, and against her better judgement, she rolled her hips again, sighing out against his lips. "I don't want to put it off any longer... Really, I... I want to. I want to show you how much I love you."

She kissed him softly again, bringing both of her hands up to cradle his face. "You already do. Every day."

She was giving him an out, and Spencer appreciated it. But with the way his insides were practically melting away at her presence, he knew more than anything that this was what he wanted.

"I know," he said. "But if you don't mind, today I'd like to show you a little extra." And then he kissed her deeply again.

Her hands tightened on his face, right before they slid up and through his hair. She gently tugged at it, and he let out one of the most delicious sounds she'd ever heard. For future reference, she relished in that sound, in that feeling, and made a mental note to try it out some more when they got further along in their sexual path.

But tonight, she would let him call the shots. He was finally ready to try it again, and seeing how confident he grew in his touches and kisses when she submitted to him, it was the simplest decision.

So she remained on his lap until he made another move, encouraging him with whimpers and languid rolls of her hips against his. Her hands grew frenzied in his hair when he dipped his hand past the waistband of her jeans and underwear, sticking his fingers in only about a knuckle deep. The warmth of his hands against her bare skin sent shivers down her spine, which she let show by involuntarily grinding down on his lap.

Spencer groaned deeply more than whined this time, his grip on her hands gripping tighter to her backside. He forced himself to remove his mouth from hers long enough to breathe out, "Bedroom. Please."

As much as Y/N didn't want to get off of his lap, she knew that what waited for her in the bedroom would be worth the momentary loss of complete physical contact. So she peeled herself away from her boyfriend, grabbing him by the hand, and lead him to her bedroom.

Once the door was closed, he was on her again, caging her face between his large hands and capturing her lips in another heated kiss. They moved backwards until she hit her back against the door, and the second their movement stopped, Spencer used their standing position to press his full body weight into her, their legs tangling together.

Meanwhile, Y/N was trying to figure out where to put her hands. She wanted to brace them on his chest, but it was pressed tightly against hers. So they wandered over his back, but she couldn't decide whether to place them under his shirt or on his butt. Or maybe she wanted to grip his arms to feel the veins as they strained against his skin from holding her face. The possibilities were quite endless.

So endless that they were even surprising—Spencer noticed her wandering hands and promptly decided to place them where he wanted, which was apparently above her head. He removed his hands from her face and pinned her wrists to the door above her head, and she huffed a breath as he pulled away to speak.

"Is this okay? I wasn't too... too rough?"

The concern swimming in his lust-filled eyes drew a little whimper from her throat as she struggled to find the right words. But finally, she settled on, "That was so fucking hot..."

Relief flashed over his gaze right before he grinned. His fingers flexed against her wrists, and even though she couldn't see them, she could imagine how it looked. And it really was fucking hot.

Seeing the expression on her face, Spencer leaned forward again and kissed her one last time. Their lips moved together hungrily, dancing in perfect synchronization, the music being the frantic beating of their hearts.

And then he started to trail his kisses down her jaw and neck, keeping her hands firmly pinned to the door. Usually she was the one to explore his neck with her tongue and teeth, but this time he wanted to try it for himself. Mirroring what he'd felt her do to him hundreds of times over, he soaked in every single sound she made, from the little whimpers of pleasure to the soft, choked whispers of his name dancing over her lips. And when her hips canted forward, searching for any kind of friction, he decided to grant it to her.

As his kisses moved down along her collarbone, his hands gently slid down with him, over her arms and then down to the bottom of her shirt as he kneeled in front of her. He lifted the shirt slowly, each new inch of exposed skin being met with soft kisses until it reached her breasts. He reached up to palm them over her bra while he trailed his kisses downward again.

Even though she was wearing jeans, he pressed kisses to her legs anyway. She squirmed under his touch, and the feeling made his heart soar.

"Please, Spence," she huffed, bringing her hands down to lay overtop of his. She felt the tendons and veins in his hands as they squeezed her, and with everything she had, she tried not to beg him to use them in more interesting places. She wanted to let him take his time, to be a vessel for his exploration, but it was growing harder every second to be patient.

Thankfully he seemed to get what she was feeling, because his hands slid out from under her shirt and rested at her jeans. "Can I take these off?"

The fact that he even asked when she so clearly begged him to do it made her heart swell. "Please do," she chuckled, though it turned into a choked sigh when his fingers actually started undoing the button. And at the sound of her zipper going down, she could have come undone right there.

He pulled her jeans down slowly and helped her step out of them. And she thought maybe he'd take the next step and do the same with her underwear, but he opted to use his mouth instead.

With gentle kisses, he traced the hem of the fabric all the way to either side of her waist. And then he looked up at her with curious eyes and shifted his face, pressing his nose right up against where her clit would be. Her hands immediately went to his hair, but he grabbed her wrists again and laid them at her sides. "Do you want me to move this along?" His voice wasn't teasing as much as it was genuine curiosity.

Still, Y/N resisted the urge to tell him yes. "I—I want you to do whatever feels right. Tonight's... about you. What you want."

"Well, what I want is to make you feel good. So, again... Do you want me to move this along?"

Every time his lips moved, they brushed up against where she desperately wanted him. And it was killing her. So, she nodded vigorously. "Yes, please," she whispered.

And with that, Spencer released her hands and used his fingers to gently rub her over the fabric. The contact made her shiver visibly, and he took that as a good sign. So he wasted no more time and replaced his fingers with his tongue, fluttering his eyes closed at the taste of her. And he knew that once the thin fabric was gone it would be stronger, but even then he was thoroughly wrecked.

He kept lapping his tongue over her, feeling her panties get wetter with ever second, and he only finally removed them when she started grinding her hips closer to his face, desperate for more.

When he did finally bring his tongue to fully taste her for the first time, they both let out the filthiest sounds, months and months of build-up starting to come to a head. He tasted her like he would an ice cream cone, and for the first few moments his eyes remained closed, all his focus on this brand new sensation. But he wanted nothing more than to see her react to him. So he opened his eyes and continued his ministrations, pupils blowing wide at the sight of her above him.

She was panting, her mouth hung open and her tongue just barely peeking out over her bottom lip. Her eyes remained shut, though Spencer could tell she was struggling to open them. With a tentative flick of his tongue over her clit, he took notice of the little gasp she made, and he knew he'd found it. So he repeated his action, providing small kitten licks to her clit as she picked up her breathing and clenched her hands at her sides.

He picked up the pace then, taking note of every little thing that made her cry out or jump with pleasure until she was clutching his hair. He was sucking on her clit now, his middle finger gently sliding in and out of her when she spoke.

"Oh, fuck, keep doing that. I'm... I'm almost..."

He felt her tighten around his finger as she started careening off the edge, and he did his best to keep his eyes on her face, because it had practically been haunting him, wondering what it would be like to see her come undone at his mercy.

To say it was better than he could have ever dreamed was a severe understatement.

Y/N's head leaned back against the door, her chin jutted out so he could see the beautiful contours of her chin and neck. He saw her throat contract as she moaned out his name, saw her chest heave as she struggled to catch her breath, and best of all, he felt her flutter around his finger and mouth. And if that was high inducing, he couldn't wait to feel wat it would be like to replace them with something else.

The mere thought had him trembling.

He pulled back when she huffed out an over-stimulated, "Okay, please, please stop, oh..."

Though it could just as easily have been a painful sentiment, the hungry, dazed look in her eye suggested otherwise.

Spencer stood up and brought his finger to his mouth, still caught up in her taste before she ripped his wrist away and kissed him, threading her fingers through his hair and moaning into his mouth.

Before he could get lost in it, though, she pulled away and nodded. "Okay. I think you're wearing too many clothes."

He tilted his head down in a little flush, and with the help of Y/N, his shirt peeled away from his body and joined her pants and underwear on the floor.

Y/N mirrored his actions, kissing gently down his jaw, neck, and then down his torso. Her hands wandered his bare back as she sunk to her knees. But when her hands moved to his belt, he stopped her.

"W—wait."

She peeled her hands away and looked up at him. "Are you okay? Do you want to slow down?"

He visibly swallowed, and she could read that look on his face that he got whenever he was embarrassed to tell her something. "N—no, I... I want... the opposite, actually."

"I don't follow..."

"Well, I know that... if you return the favor, I won't last very long, a—and I... I don't want to wait anymore."

Y/N smiled, standing again and bringing her hands to rest on his shoulders. "So you're saying you... want me to move this along?"

Spencer smiled at her recollection of his words. "Yes, please."

They travelled to the bed then, Y/N taking off her shirt and bra when they got there, and leaving her completely bare to him. She sat down and reached for his belt, looking up at him as he stood.

"I'm clean and on birth control, do you still want to use a condom? I have some in my table drawer."

He thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. "As long as you're sure."

Y/N undid his belt quickly and threw it to the side, making work of his button and zipper with a smile. "Oh I'm so sure..."

The way she said it made his dick twitch, images running through his mind of how it would look seeing her filled and dripping with—

Her hand was palming him through his underwear now, and it was all he could think about. He had already been hard before, but now it was tilting on the precipice of painful pleasure. So he stopped her, taking a deep breath.

"Lay down?"

"However you want me," Y/N answered, positioning herself on the bed so she was leaning back, her head nicely laid out on the pillows.

Spencer swallowed and removed his underwear before climbing on the bed and kneeling over her. Her legs were already wide, feet flat on either side of him as he positioned himself and got ready.

She reached out and gently grabbed his forearm, a gentle smile on her face. "You ready?"

"Mhm," he answered with a curt nod, bringing himself forward to run the head of his dick through her wetness. They both sighed at the feeling, and Spencer knew he was in trouble.

It was finally happening, he was getting another chance to have sex with her, and if he didn't last long again, he was going to—

"I love you," Y/N said reassuringly, rubbing circles into the hand that rested on the inside of her thigh.

He looked into her eyes and saw that love radiating from them. It warmed his insides and gave him the confidence he needed to finally, slowly push into her as he whispered, "I love you, too."

Once he was fully sheathed inside her, he let out a large breath, leaning down to brace his arms on either side of her head. The pressure of her clenched around him was overwhelming in the best way possible, and he never wanted to move.

But he had to.

She stroked his hair, pressing soft kisses all over his face, and whispered, "I love you."

With those three words, Spencer had the courage to pull back and then forward again, testing the waters and more accurately, his limits. He picked up a slow pace that burned him from the inside out, every muscle and vein in his body on fire with the knowledge that he was finally, properly making love to the woman he was pretty sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

But he was holding back. Y/N could tell. He glided through her with ease, sure, but his eyes were squeezed shut like he was concentrating, like he was pacing himself and trying to hold on to this feeling.

She moved her hands down to his back and lightly ran her fingernails over the skin, feeling him tremble under her touch.

"You feel so good, Spence," she whispered. "So perfect for me..."

The words made his hips stutter just a little, and Y/N knew then what the hesitation was.

He wanted to go faster.

So she moved her fingers lower, cupping his ass and scratching featherlight circles into the skin as she moaned. "You like when I talk to you, baby? Does hearing my voice help you out?"

Spencer choked out a groan as he opened his eyes and saw how feral she looked. Her pupils were blown wide, her mouth was pouted cutely, and she smiled as soon as she saw him bite his lip.

"You wanna go faster?" she cooed, digging her fingernails a little harder into the flesh of his ass. "Hmm?"

"F—fuck, Y/N... I..."

"You fuck me however you need to, baby. Don't hold back. Just let it all out."

He groaned out then, his hips picking up speed. She felt the relief and the tension rolling off his body as he finally gave into his urges, and it was just about the sexiest thing she'd ever witnessed.

"That's it, baby... Don't stop... Give it to me, let me feel you..."

He leaned down and kissed her then, pumping into her harder and harder with every second. She moaned out against his mouth, swallowing all his breaths and grunts. Meanwhile her fingers gripped his ass harder, relishing in the feeling of his muscles as they aided in fucking her.

His mouth pulled away as he shoved his face into her neck, and she sighed. "You're doing so good, baby. Fuck... " His hips kept moving, and she clenched around him hard, hoping to gauge his reaction.

Sure enough, he groaned against her neck and canted his hips harder. Every thrust forward now was so deep he hit her g-spot, and the sensation made her sigh with a smile. "That's fucking right, baby... Just like that, don't stop, don't stop. You fe—el so... ohhh."

Her words lit this fire in him that was impossible to put out. His body was hers for the taking, and so he'd give her everything he had. Which is why he picked up the pace and fucked into her as hard as he could, dangerously close to finishing.

"Fuck, Spence, I'm gonna... —na..."

Y/n's moans turned into a quiet scream as she came, clenching tightly around his dick and digging her fingernails into his ass. Her eyes squeezed shut with the swirling patterns of fireworks exploding behind them, meanwhile he twitched inside of her and lost it at last. As she came down, she helped him hold himself there, deep inside her as his cum spilled over in warm increments. They both moaned out at the feeling, all their tension easing and dissipating.

By the end, all that was left between the both of them was a thin sheen of sweat and murmured promises of "I love you."

They could have fallen asleep right there. Y/N's hands slid up his backside, over his arms, and then to the back of his head, combing gently through his disheveled hair as he pressed loving kisses to the patch of skin where her neck met her collarbone. He was still inside her, unwilling to leave the warmth she provided, and she did nothing to object.

"How are you feeling?" she finally asked, opening her eyes.

Spencer tilted his head up to look at her, his heart once again swelling at the adoring look in her eyes. "I'm great."

She laughed, and he laughed with her. And they were silent for a few moments before he spoke again.

"So, uh... What we just did is what we're counting as our real first time together, right? Like, the other time doesn't count?"

Y/N laughed again, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "If you want to count this as our first time, then yes. I'd be more than happy to agree with you."

"Good. This was much better."

Even though she would never hold their first first time together against him, she was inclined to agree.

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vannybarber · 3 years

Text

The Prenup: Part Two

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part One

Walking down the isle, you grab everything that looks remotely pleasing in sight. After you left the house, you were just driving nowhere. Having to refill your tank because you wasted all the gas, the crackhead at the station kept singing Mambo Number 5 and it made you feel slightly better. Now you were in the convenience store spending your feelings away.

You get to the pain pills and grab some Aleve. Your head has been thumping for hours now. You see a pink box and knock a couple of those in the basket too just because they're pink. Whipping over to the candy isle, you grab multiple bags of Starburst jelly beans just to spite Chris because you know he loves them. Moments later, your basket it full and you head to the front.

Tipping the basket, you dump all the contents on the counter. The cashier gives you this look and you don't blame her. You had 3 bags of jellybeans, 5 random candy bars, 2 pink boxes you still can't read out, a blue Mountain Dew, a dog toy and some Doritos. Absolutely random. The cashier scans all the junk food, but when she gets to the pink boxes, she look up at you and at your left hand.

You're in a daze, so you don't see her looking at you. Your mind was all over the place and frankly, you didn't want to think about any of the latest events. Not the prenup. Not the engagement. Not Chris. Snapping into reality, you pay for your groceries and take all the bags and walk out the store.

On the drive to the hotel, you pass the park where you and Chris met. That didn't help with your predicament at all.

Dodger had gotten off his leash because he was so excited to finally have a home. You were with your niece. She is so obsessed with dogs and wanted to meet every one. Dodger spotted her and pounced on her, giving infinite kisses.

Chris was freaking out. His dog just pounced on a two year old child.

You, on the other hand, were laughing your ass off. Your niece wasn't complaining either because she kissed him back.

He apologized profusely and you guaranteed him it was okay. You guys hung out for the rest of the day and decided to go on another date, without the kids. One date lead to many others and soon enough you'd met his whole family, vice versa, and started living with him. It was unreal.

And here you are infront of a hotel, with no ring or engagement and your fianceé almost an hour away. Oh, how the tables have turned.

You get out and receive your room key. You head up to your room and set everything down. You were so tired and worn out. Getting comfortable in the bed, you knock out almost immediately.

Meanwhile, back at your house, it's pure chaos.

"Chris do you realize what the fuck you just did?"

Scott is practically screaming at his brother, pacing around the room.

"Scott can you fucking chill? You're not helping the situation" Chris snapped back at him. Scott stops and stares at him like he's an idiot.

"We wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for your stupid choices. Tell him Ma!" He looks at her to back him up. Lisa stands up from her seat and walks over to Chris.

"Now Scott, Chris is a grown man. He can handle this situation, right honey?" Her hands are on both his shoulders, looking for him to respond.

"There you go. You always do this! You always baby him up whenever he's in trouble." He rolls his eyes. Lisa draws back from Chris.

"No, I do not. I let all of you sort out your own issues, with my advice of course. Shanna, Carly, do I baby your brother?" Chris throws his head back in annoyance.

"Um, yeah kinda.."

"Sometimes...Ma, but not all the time of course"

They say at the same time. They hated to admit it but when it came to Chris, she mostly got him out his problems. He's not used to solving them on his own. Lisa utters incoherent words in disbelief.

"That's not important right now. My fianceé just called off our engagement and I don't know where she is!" Chris interrupts, getting everyone back into focus.

"Technically she's not your fianceé if she called the engagement off, but it's whatever..." Scott mumbles with his hands up. Chris shoots him a 'fuck off look'.

"Well have you tried calling her?" Carly asks him.

"Yes, but she's not picking up. She can hold quite the grudge when it comes to her feelings." And he was right. You were very protective of your feelings and anything to harm that will be shut down ASAP.

"Well we just have to hope that she is trusting her better judgment and will come back, unlike someone in the room" Scott says sarcastically turning and sitting on the couch. Chris smacks his lips.

"Scott that's enough!" Lisa snaps.

"Well he deserves everything he's getting! He put himself in this situation. Now he doesn't have a wife and he's miserable. Could never be me."

Chris had enough. He moved quickly put his chair and into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. He sat at the edge of the bed and cried.

You had finally woken up and check your phone.

26 missed calls | 63 messages.

You text Lisa and tell her you're fine. Closing the app, you look at your homescreen. It's a picture of Chris laying on your chest asleep. His lips are parted and you're grinning in the screen. He looks like an adorable puppy. You grab your charger out your bag and plug it up.

Remembering the stuff you bought, you grab the jellybeans and open them. Seeing the assortment of colors, you go straight for the red ones. Chris' favorite. You were gonna milk this to the bone. You reach in the bag and feel one of the pink boxes you bought. Still not knowing what it was, you pull it out and read it.

First Response Pregnancy

You bought a damn pregnancy test. 2 to be exact. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or to smack yourself for wasting your money. Many thoughts went through your mind. Should you take the tests? Should you throw it away? What if you were pregnant? That last thought gave you shivers. Pregnant at a time like this? Were you even ready?

Looking down at the test, you decide to take it. Just for the hell of it. You knew you weren't gonna be pregnant because you take birth control. Not to mention you and Chris use condoms for extra measure. Nothing wrong with being safe.

You get up, pad to the bathroom and get down to business. You do all the steps and clean up after yourself. Now you just had to wait.

You were nervous as hell. You don't know why though. There isn't a chance you could be pregnant because you didn't allow there be one. You have been beyond careful. There would be zero possibility. Or so you thought.

After what felt like 5 minutes, your shakey hand grab the test and flip it over.

| |

You freeze and your eyes dart to the information section.

Not Pregnant- |

Pregnant- | |

You look back at the results. There were two lines. Absentmindedly, you shake your head and back up until your back hits the wall. You can't be pregnant. There's literally no freaking way. It's got to be false.

You grab the other test and take it. After 5 more minutes, you check it and there's two lines also. Now you were freaking the fuck out. Both tests are positive. You rush back in the room and dig through the bag for the other box. You grab it and take both tests at the same time. Don't ask.

After another 5 minutes, you stare at the back of the two tests. Moment of truth. You flip both the tests at the same time.

| | on each test.

This is where you fall on the floor in shock and fear. You were pregnant. With Chris' child. And you guys just had a huge fall out and you're all alone. You're not ready for a kid. Especially not now.

You bury your head in your hands and let the tears fall. How in the hell were you gonna tell him?

taglist:

@flattykawa1 @mayafatimakhan @attitude-times @shawn-youth @traceyaudette @fantasticinternetpizza @kyraroseficreblogs33 @radi0active-thoughts @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @ohbarracuda @katelyneannxo @jennamarieee623 @nicochantez @craycraycraic @ilikeurdad @ppal3 @captainson-of-coul @joanne-stan @ilovetheeagles @cristinagronk16 @kelbabyblue @onyourgoddamnleft @jessyballet @misz-adrii @geminievans1 @saltyflowermakertaco @a-moment-captured @harrysthiccthighss @greatbatprofessordragon

i hope this part kept you guys' intrest like the first part😭 i felt the pressure today lmao

if you're bolded, i couldn't tag you. i'll personally message you ❤ thank you guys for your support. it means so much to me 🤧

#cevans #chris evans #avengers #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #andy barber smut #steve rogers smut #captain america #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut

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alwaysmarveling · 3 years

Text

Socks

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: toxic relationships, small mentions of death, gaslighting, fighting, and miscarriage

Word Count: 4k (literally exactly 4k, I’m kinda proud)

A/N: Based on the song “1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back” by Olivia Rodrigo as suggested by @vancityfire13, I hope this meets all your hopes and expectations <3 also technically this is my first prompt from someone who’s not me??!

You met Wanda at the library. Your legs crossed, eyebrows scrunched, and bottom lip caught between your teeth, you’d settled in the familiar corner of the library's world languages section. That area was always quiet, which you’d found out after many trips to the library as a kid. When the occasional patron did wander through, perusing the shelves, sometimes they brought family or friends, weaving together sounds and syllables that had to be from another language. It was the only sound you’d tolerate while you were immersed in your reading. Well, to be fully honest, you loved it, wondering what the hushed voices were saying, what stories they were telling. So Wanda’s English was a jarring wake-up call.

“I like your socks.” Her eyes flashed to your ankles, leaving you wondering if she was more drawn to the sky blue color or the characters covering it.

You’d noticed the brunette walking the aisles about ten minutes ago. Unlike most, she ran her fingers along the worn spines, seeming only half-interested in what the titles read.

“Thanks.” Your voice was cold, unwelcoming. She gave you a terse nod before heading off, her footsteps silent against the worn carpet. You thought she was gone.

A week later, you were back at your spot. You’d finally finished the work you’d been putting off for weeks, just about to reward yourself with a reread of Little Women, a book you’d read an uncountable number of times since you were a child. She was an unwelcome interruption.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but-”

“I was looking for a book for my brother. His name is Pietro. Was Pietro. There was a Sokovian fairytale he always loved. Begged my mother to read it to us every night. He could recite it by memory by the time he was five, knew every word. I thought I did too.” Your eyes traced down the curve of her spine. Your mother would have scolded you for standing so poorly.

“I’m sorry for your loss” was all you said, your lips forming a tight line when you finished.

“I couldn’t- I can’t remember the title.”

“I can try to help you find it?” You weren’t sure why you offered, maybe the lost look in her eyes, the growing strength of her accent as she talked, or the way her fingers traced her empty palms. No one should leave a library empty-handed.

“Do you speak Sokovian?” The corners of her eyes creased as you shook your head.

“I suppose you won’t be much help then, will you?” Her words held no bite, only the sadness of a stranger who was trying to hold herself together, her emotions threatening to unravel her at the weakened seams. You matched her facial expression out of sympathy, but she was gone before you had a chance to apologize.

“Do you like Disney?” she had asked you. Her eyes were back on your ankles. You were wearing the same socks as when the two of you first met. You were milliseconds away from answering, your tongue already against the roof of your mouth, ready to shut down the conversation immediately afterward. But then you noticed the way her hands fidgeted in her lap, her fingers always moving, almost like they were dancing. You sighed. You should be nicer; she’d really done nothing wrong.

“It’s alright.” Your shoulders raised and dropped, your answer purposefully vague. “Did you manage to find the book?” The darkening of her eyes was enough to tell you that, no, she hadn’t found it. “What’s the main character’s name?” Her gaze followed you as you pulled out your laptop.

“Boleslav,” she answered finally. Her gaze was timid, unsure. Why were you helping her? You’d been so closed off before.

“Do you know any major points of the story? The names of the other characters?” Before she could answer, you eyed the pillow that sat next to you. She took a seat.

The two of you poured over Google, eventually finding the story and its location in the library. But by that point, you were too wrapped up in your findings on the Internet to get up. Too wrapped up in each other.

---

Wanda insisted she make it up to you, for finding the book for her.

“For helping me find my brother,” she insisted, pulling you out of the library. If she was anyone else, you would have responded by saying that she could make it up to you by leaving you alone with your books, but she wasn’t anyone else. So you let her tug you out of the building, Mirabelle, the librarian, giving you a wink upon seeing you leaving the building with someone else, soft smiles gracing your faces.

You thought she would’ve brought you to coffee, but it seemed you hadn’t yet developed the ability to understand her. She brought you to the city, a small store on the corner. Socks lined the walls, the different colors and patterns flooding your vision.

“Your Disney ones looked old.” You half-nodded as you scanned the store, your hand going limp in hers. You remembered learning about rods and cones in class ages ago, not quite remembering what each one did but remembering that one of them was involved in seeing colors. Those—whatever they were called—must’ve been on overdrive.

You picked one pair for her, and she, one for you. You wore those socks constantly, slipping them over your feet the second they were out of the wash. You never told Wanda about it, but you didn’t have to; her eyes fell to your ankles every time she saw you, a small smile on her face. You didn’t know if you did it for her reaction or simply because you loved them. Maybe it was both.

---

Wanda drew you into her world. Some might have used the word “yanked” given how quickly your relationship moved. But that made it sound involuntary, as if she’d forced you to move in with her when she’d asked you exactly eight months after your first date. And if you’d known she had powers when you first met her, you might’ve agreed. Maybe she’d entranced you and now you were stuck with her, even if you didn’t really want to be.

But the truth was that you did, you wanted to be with her every second you could. And though magic never left her hands when she was with you, even her name was magic, the way those two syllables rang beautifully in the air as she formally introduced herself for the first time. She spoke English when she talked to you, but you swore that whatever left her mouth was a language of her own, so elegant, sweet, and charming in a way that no English speaker could replicate.

But, one night, her words twisted into daggers, punctuated syllables sharpening into dangerous ends, the beginning of each sentence like a handle she grabbed and used to hurt you further, twist until it was lodged as deeply into your chest as it could go.

You weren’t sure what you did to make it happen. Maybe it was just a bad night. She was drunk, after all, home from some party with the Avengers that you hadn’t gone to. The two of you had talked it over before, though, both agreeing that it was too soon in your relationship to attend anything where it’d be publicly released, which was why you were confused about why she was cursing you out for abandoning her, not being there when you needed her.

You promised that you’d be sure to go next time. Wanda just turned around, dismissing you without another word. You weren’t sure what was worse, the silence or her words. She somehow missed the tears that streamed down your face.

The next day, she knocked on your door. This time, she was the one in tears, the rate at which they fell only increasing when she saw how puffy your eyes were.

“I- I’m sorry,” she bumbled, the sounds tumbling out of her mouth like a barrel coming down the Niagara Falls. She couldn’t have stopped them if she tried. You watched her struggle through an apology, something about her insecurities being magnified as she saw all the other couples around her seemingly happy. She just wanted that. And even though her speech was much more clumsy than the usual effortless diction you were used to hearing from her, you allowed her words to draw you in, provide you shelter from the horrors you’d experienced yesterday, when your heart raced and blood rushed your ears and your palms were so sweaty you couldn’t get a grip on anything. You allowed her arms to draw you in, make you feel safe. You allowed her to bring you home.

---

Wanda saw a side of you that no one had ever seen before. Scratch that, Wanda saw all of you. Where others would’ve looked away or missed the true meaning of your words, she dug deeper. You lived your whole life with a mask on, swapping one out for another to appease those around you. Wanda took them all off.

But she didn’t force them off; she made you want to take them off. You were the one who peeled them off one by one, the experience being extremely unnerving every time you revealed that much more of yourself to her, but you always found yourself relieved at the end. Because she accepted you, she loved you.

Right?

---

You called her once, during a mission. It was something the two of you had been doing ever since you started dating. You would ask how she was doing, make sure she was okay, and she’d do the same for you. Of course, when her missions were off-the-grid you didn’t call, but if the two of you were allowed to stay in contact, she insisted that you guys do so.

“I have to make sure my love is okay,” she’d murmured, just before she left for her first mission since the two of you started your relationship. She was holding you in her arms as the two of you swayed back and forth. Your feet were bare for once, the cold kitchen tile underfoot grounding the both of you. Neither of you had wanted to let go; your hands were clasped firmly together around her waist, and hers rested on top of yours. But eventually, the incessant honking from Tony became too much, and the two of you reluctantly moved apart.

“I’ll call you the second I can, yeah? And make sure you call me in the morning when you wake up.”

“I will,” you nodded as Wanda’s hand came up to brush against your cheek.

But somehow she’d forgotten about your agreement, and nothing but annoyance filled your ear, the phone pressed up against it.

“Y/N, I really don’t have time for this right now.” You sucked in a breath, her tone an instant reminder of that night she’d yelled at you. But that was so long ago. And you hadn’t done anything; there wasn’t a party you’d missed since then, not a moment since then that you’d let her feel alone. Or was there?

“I- I’m sorry,” you stuttered. “Should I call you back later?” All you got was a sigh, doubt and panic filling your chest in the momentary silence.

“We’ll see. Goodbye, milaya.” There was barely a pause in between her voice and the disconnect tone. You weren’t sure if the pet name was sincere or a habit leftover from the good times.

Were you still in the good times?

What went wrong?

Where did you go wrong?

She came back from the mission, and all was well again. She spun you around and around, her melodious giggles filling your ears and causing the corners of your mouth to lift. But you couldn’t help your brows from cinching inwards, wondering where this Wanda had been when you’d called. Was it just another fluke, or maybe something you’d imagined?

“I love you, printsessa, so, so much,” Wanda whispered. You loved the way her smooth voice filled your ears, made you feel whole again. Maybe it was the kitchen? Was that the place she felt safe, the place where she felt like she could love you fully? Maybe that’s why she seemed so closed off during the mission. When you didn’t respond, too lost in thought, she spoke up again.

“Detka, d’you know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me? I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her eyes sparkled. No red mist emerged from her fingertips, but you swore Wanda’s essence was magic in and of itself. How could you ever deny her?

You surrendered.

“I love you too. More than anything in the world.”

---

The next day, Wanda woke you up with excitement filling her voice, insisting that you come with her to the compound to pick up some of the things she’d left behind.

“I want to show you off,” she’d laughed as she rolled you over.

“We’ve already met, babe. They love me, you’ve said so yourself,” you groaned. She shook her head as she corralled you into the bathroom.

“You haven’t met all of them! Now c’mon, let’s go!” You agreed, and she was right, there were lots of new people there.

“You must be Y/N, right?” You nodded as you shook the man’s hand.

“I’m Clint. I’ve heard, um, lots about you. And your socks.” The two of you laughed at his joke, but something about his chuckle was off. His smile never quite reached his eyes. Wanda whisked you off too soon for you to figure out why though, bringing you over to a rather large man. No, god, he’s a god. Thor, he said. His name is Thor.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’d responded.

“The love of my life,” Wanda sighed, her voice wispy and dreamy. The god’s eyebrows had raised at that.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you then, Y/N. I didn’t know Wanda was so fortunate as to have a love so strong.” Sometimes you had to remind yourself of that too. “You are very lucky, my friend.” Am I?

You exchanged jokes with Natasha, learned of some of Bruce and Tony’s new projects, listened to stories of Thor’s childhood adventures on Asgard; the night went well. Until it didn’t.

You were yanked into a mostly empty room, the door quickly shut behind you. Was that a flash of red you’d seen in the corner of your eye?

“What did you do?” someone hissed. The voice was familiar, but by this point, you weren’t sure if it filled you with dread or joy when you heard it. Was that part of the excitement of your relationship, trying to figure out the complexities of it all, trying to predict which version of your lover you’d get this time?

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “I didn’t do anything, Wanda, I swear!”

“Then why is Clint telling me to break up with you? What did you say to him?” Your head shook, your whole body shook. This was news to you.

“I didn’t say anything. Please, Wan-”

“How am I supposed to believe that, Y/N? Do you really think he’d just make that up out of nowhere?” You tried to find the words, the ones you should say, the ones she’d want you to say. You had nothing. The witch’s anger grew, her hands slamming down on her sides. “God, Y/N! It’s like sometimes I don’t even know who you are!”

But wait, that was how you felt. Wasn’t it? Or had you dreamed that up too? What had you done?

“Wanda, I promise I didn’t do anything. I’ve been friendly to him all night.”

“So you expect me to believe he’s lying, then.” Your eyes fell to her chest, its rise and fall rapid but deep, going up and down several times before she spoke again. “Y/N, he named his child after my brother. Why would he lie to me?” You could do nothing, say nothing to fix this. You weren’t sure exactly what you did, but you’d messed up. Again.

“Maybe he’s right, then.” Her hand ran through her hair, the brown locks that you loved to twist around your own fingers, play with as she laid in your lap, a show playing in the background. You missed those times.

But weren’t you just doing that last night?

You weren’t sure. It seemed like so long ago.

---

Weeks, months, even a year passed. Wanda had apologized for that night at the compound. She’d also apologized for the countless number of other times the two of you had fought since then. But it was okay, you’d thought, because for all those arguments was an equal number of moments where the two of you laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe, slow-danced at 3 AM, used your hairbrushes as microphones to sing concerts for your millions of fans. At least, you thought it was an equal number. Did number matter anyway?

Wanda went from being your girlfriend, to being your fiancé, to being your wife. Like Thor had said, you were “very lucky.” You are very lucky. Because right now, you’re looking down at the stick in your hand, and there are two lines, not one. The two of you had done something so many couldn’t; that was a huge blessing. And now you had to tell Wanda.

Finding the box was harder than you thought, but the other part was much easier. All you had to do was go to the store Wanda had taken you to all that time ago, the small store on the corner. And when the brunette lifted open the lid to find a pair of socks so tiny they could only be for one thing, one person, one baby, she knew. She was ecstatic. You were relieved.

Four weeks. Four weeks later from that day was the worst day of your life. Just as quickly as the baby had come, it had gone. He or she was gone. Was it your fault? The doctor had been quick to shut those thoughts down, insisting that there were many factors that could’ve caused the miscarriage, but you certainly weren’t one of them.

But Wanda didn’t talk to you for a whole week, spending the nights in the guest bedroom to avoid you. It was the longest the two of you had gone without speaking. That had to mean something, right?

It did. It meant that it shouldn’t have been a surprise when you came home from work the following Monday to find half of the things missing. All of her things.

The box was still there, though; you saw it out of the corner of your eye. It sat on top of a cabinet, the two socks poking out of the top.

The two of you had fallen in love with those tiny socks faster than you’d fallen in love with each other. They held so much love, so much promise. But now they were empty, devoid of anything they might’ve held just hours before. They were nothing more than a painful reminder of what could have been, what should have been. Meanwhile, your own socks were still on, the same ones Wanda had given to you on your first date. You weren’t sure you could take them off if you tried. Was that a reminder too? Did it have significance?

The ticking of the clock suddenly caught your attention. You had been standing at the doorway for thirty minutes, but what were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to go somewhere? Where would you go? Wanda was gone, not leaving any clue as to where she could’ve run off to, and you were alone.

When was the last time you’d been truly alone?

Didn’t you use to like being alone?

You grabbed your keys. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, but whatever it was, you wouldn’t find it here.

You push open the door, always the one on the right. Walk twenty or so steps through the entrance, turn left. Take another left, then walk-

It was different. Completely different. The shelves weren’t the same color, metal had been swapped for wood, the carpet was new; what had happened?

“Y/N, sweetie, is that you?” Mirabelle’s voice. At least she was still here. You turned to face her, taking in her wrinkled face, the tortoiseshell glasses that had been perched on her nose since you met her as a child. “Oh my goodness, it is! We haven’t seen you in ages. We were all so worried.”

“Wha- what happened to the library?” Her kind smile flipped, her lips separated with their corners turning downwards.

“We got a renovation at the end of last year, honey. Didn’t you see it on the news?”

“Right,” you nodded, swallowing again, trying to push down the lump that had been growing in your throat for over an hour. “Um, where’s the world languages section?”

“Upstairs, love. Take two rights and you’ll see it. Enjoy your visit, okay?” You nodded again, pressing your lips into a wavering smile that Mirabelle accepted.

You found the section easily enough, pushing yourself into one of the beanbags that crowded the floor. It was quiet—you supposed not many people came to the library on a late Tuesday afternoon—but something was missing.

No, that wasn’t it. Nothing was missing. Everything had changed, and you couldn’t settle yourself no matter how hard you tried. You couldn’t recognize the white walls or the large windows that surrounded you. You couldn’t recognize the book in your shaking hands; the title read “Little Women,” but it lacked the comfort and familiarity it once brought you. You couldn’t recognize the artwork that hung on the walls, the large signs suspended from the ceiling.

You caught a reflection in the shiny metal of a book cart that lay several feet away from you.

You couldn’t recognize yourself.

When you finally left the library, Mirabelle frowned as she watched you exit the doors, not stopping to check out a book like you always did. No one should ever leave a library empty-handed. You’d forgotten that too.

---

She came back less than a week later, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes rimmed with red as she stumbled her way through an apology.

“It was a mistake, detka, I promise. I made such an awful mistake, and I’ll never forgive myself. I won’t blame you if you don’t forgive me either.” You stared at her, neither your eyes nor your mouth moving as you tried to take in what she was saying, tried to come up with an adequate response.

Which had changed more, the library or you?

“Please, you’re the only thing that matters in my life. I can’t lose you.” The melody of her once-full voice was broken, the chords fragmented and notes falling out of tune. It was as broken as you’d felt for the past few days. Maybe she understood. But you couldn’t think anymore because you were suddenly in her arms again, her tears soaking your shirt as she sobbed.

The library had been renovated, its modernity and welcoming environment being a major improvement to the once somewhat dilapidated building. You had slipped, your feet wrapped in the socks Wanda had given you as you stumbled down the dark, crooked hallway of your life, trying desperately to get a hand on the wall, grab a solid footing.

You had two options: save yourself or fall.

“Please, Y/N, please. Promise you’ll stay.”

You fell backwards, your head being the first to slam into the floor.

“Of course I’ll stay, Wan. I’d never leave you.”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever get up. After all, changed or not, what’s a library without its books? Who are you without her?

-----

🏷 : @007giu

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff #avengers x reader #marvel #mcu #I wrote something #alwaysmarveling

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 3 years

Note

basically a Striker x male imp with powerful regeneration powers, the two knew each other before Striker worked as a noble assassin, y/n by having these powers was almost always in extreme danger situations (like fighting a noble without a head and still somehow win), the two constantly bickered and usually ended up with broken bones. Now these days they meet again after years without seeing each other and with repressed feelings they finally have time to talk... after fighting a little more

Striker x Male Imp with a healing factor.

You and Striker first met each other years ago.

The two of you ran into each other during a job. You both had been hired to kill some petty mob boss.

Striker was seconds away from killing the target, when you jumped through the guy's skylight splatting onto the ground.

Jumping up you effortlessly killed the mob boss and all his bodyguards.

Striker confronted you outside the building, surprised at how good you look after falling through a plate glass windows.

He told you that was good work, if sloppy, but that was his kill. And he just couldn't tolerate theives.

He was surprised by just how nonchalant you were, as though he were telling you something you'd heard a hundred times.

You told him a job is a job, and you wouldn't hold it against him if it were the other way around. And much to Strikers surprise, you turned, and began walking away from him.

Striker, froze, processing what was happening, before he raised his rifle and blew your brains out.

Usually didn't like shooting people in the back, especially a fellow assassin like you. But hey, you practically asked him to do it.

He began to leave, only for you to suddenly jump him from behind, scratching up his shoulders and back, almost managing to cut his throat.

He threw you off, before spinning around and fired three more shots into your chest. That seemed to keep you down this time.

Dragging himself away, he looked back to find you weren't there.

He found himself on edge for weeks after that, never sure If you were gonna go coming looking for pay back.

He only calmed down after running into you at a bar.

And much to his surprise you didn't seem to hold any animosity towards him, in fact, you actually offered to buy him a drink.

Not wanting to offend you, he said yes.

He ended up actually enjoying the night, the two of you having a lively conversation over a few drinks

He couldnt help but ask about the whole, "I shot you in the head, why aren't you dead" thing.

So over a few glasses of whiskey, you explained that you had a serious healing factor, so serious, you were borderline immortal.

Needless to say Striker was amazed and honestly found it kinda hard to believe.

Although what happened next put it all into perspective.

A large demon walked up to you, saying a few words he sunk a large blade into your chest.

Before he could draw his pistol you placed your hand on his shoulder.

Taking a large gulp of your drink, you pulled the blade from your chest and plunged it into the demons stomach. And like nothing had happened, you went back to the conversation.

After that Striker finished his drink, thanking you before he got the fuck out of there.

That was not the last time you and Striker crossed paths. The two of you often ending up taking the same job.

You always having an advantage as you could just recklessly run into a fight, absorbing every attack before killing the target, and walking away unscathed. Where as Striker had to more carefully think his strikes through.

And much to your surprise and joy, you found that through the many jobs you and Striker fought over, you developed something of a frienemy complex.

As annoying as you stealing his jobs was, he couldn't deny, he was having the most fun of his life.

Striker was an extraordinary Imp and it was exceedingly rare he found anyone on his level. So getting to test his skills against you was great.

The two of you were constantly fighting.

Most of the fights were picked by you, usually finding something petty to fight over.

You found the fights good fun, since you weren't really in any danger and Striker always gave his all in a fight.

Your fights got more common, Striker randomly attacking you on the street. The two of you fighting for hours, both refusing to submit.

Bloody knuckles, bruised bodies and broken noses, the two of you were relentless.

And oddly enough, between the brutal smackdowns and all night benders, you found you began enjoying each other's company.

It was an odd dynamic.

The way you could go from brutal fighting, to casually enjoying a meal together, back to a brutal melee.

Though despite your questionable relationship, the teo of you ended up seeing less and less of each other.

Striker began taking much higher risk jobs, often taking on nobility, and as such becoming harder to find.

While you on the other hand, with the pile of cash you made through your killing work you decided to take up several hobbies.

Painting, music, craft, but you would quickly grow bored of them, they were all too easy.

So you decided to travel, taking up any job that caught your fancy.

You tried to let Striker know, you know, for old times sake. But just couldn't get in contact wirh him.

A by-product of being known as a royal killer, you suppose.

You travelled for a few years, traveling the seven rings, taking up various jobs and drastically expanding your resume.

Eventually you'd find yourself in the wrath ring, finding work on a very quaint little ranch.

Usually you'd spend a couple months on the job before moving on to the next one. You'd done this for years, never sticking around for more than six months.

But you found yourself sticking around.

Life on the ranch was good. It was lots of hard work, but you were never bored. And the annual blood moon festival was always something to look forward too.

And over time, you found yourself genuinely enjoying your work. finally finding some sort of purpose in your life, finding yourself being treated like a member of the family. Eventually you worked your way up to foreman.

It wasn't long after a tornado tore through the ranch, you and another worker getting caught up in it.

Only managing to survive because of your healing factor.

You limped back to the ranch, you had to at least act like you were injured. The whole family was overjoyed to see you alive.

But it wasn't long after that a familiar face showed up.

Striker. In all his cowboy glory.

Initially you were overjoyed, tackling the Imp to the ground. Striker effortlessly throwing you off, before he recognised you.

He seemed just as happy to see you, the two of two sharing a hug.

You couldn't explain it, but it felt amazing to hug the Imp. The two of you sharing an long moment together. Staring into each other's eyes.

Apparently he was in town and looking for work.

You didn't buy it for a second, of course. Striker was a cold blooded killer, not some field hand.

But when the boss asked, you still backed his story, telling the boss he was the hardest working guy you knew.

Which wasn't Untrue.

So Striker began working under you, which was great, since he had to do everything you told him to.

But eventually you confronted him about it, telling him you knew he wasn't there for a field hand job.

Striker tried to keep the facade going, but he quickly gave in and told you he was there for a target.

You figured as much, striker telling you he actually planned on taking the position of foreman, as his cover and after hearing that you knew you couldn't let this opportunity go to waste.

So you didn't.

For the first few weeks he was there, you made sure he got all the grunt work, the two of you often getting into fights like the old times.

Though you did take emense pleasure in watching Striker struggle to do basic field work.

But if striker was one thing, it was adaptable.

And soon enough he was working as hard as anyone.

The two of you became close again, alot like last time, but there seemed to be something new between the two of you.

Like a longing that had grown between the two of you, after spending years apart.

Your feeling would grow come to a head after a trip into town.

Striker would use his first pay check to buy a bottle of local brew. Which in wrath, was essentially moonshine. You'd find a hill not to far from the ranch, before popping the bottle.

The two of you would go through the bottle fairly quickly, reminiscing about the good old days.

Both of you getting more and more inebriated as you dug deeper and deeper into your past.

Telling him you had tried to sat goodbye, but couldn't find him. Striker would admit that he had missed you desperately. Hed tell you how it was only his work that kept his mind off of you.

You would lean in close, inches from each other, leaning in, you'd share a much over due kiss.

You weren't sure how Striker would react. You half expected him to knock your lights out.

But instead, Striker pulled you deeper into the kiss, his hands beginning to roam your body.

The kiss would only grow in intensity, the two of you shedding layer after layer of clothing.

You would embrace each other in that field.

You couldn't remember who was on top, and who was bottom, but you woke up the next morning feeling very satisfied.

The next morning was... interesting.

Youd woken up in lots of interesting situations. But hungover, buck naked in the middle of a field besides your long time friend, was a first.

The weird part though, was that It wasn't awkward.

You woke up about the same time. The two of you just laying there, Basking in the early morning sun.

You would just curl up together for a while, quietly discussing what should happen next.

You were shocked when Striker said he wanted to be with you.

Not really sure how to answer, you just kissed him. The two of you ending up having some early morning sex.

So after hundreds of fights, years apart and a pretty severe hangover, you and Striker were finally together.

Thanks for the request y'all. Usually I like don't write for Striker as I just felt there was a bit too much content surrounding him. My headcanon is a little more intimate than the prompt suggested, but none the less, this was still fun to write. Thanks for reading I hope you liked it.

#helluva boss x reader #helluva boss #headcanon #x reader #helluva boss headcanon #helluva striker #striker #striker x reader #helluva boss striker #helluva boss striker x reader

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