#if you got this far send me an ask and some ibuprofen

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blurred Lines 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: some more Nicky for the girlies.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Back to usual. 

You say goodbye to Joey with an especially clingy hug. She’ll be gone back to campus by the time you get home. Her short visits always leave you a bit sad.

You arrive at Nick’s place and let yourself in. The remnants of the prior day’s get together are still littered over the dining room table and throughout the front room. There’s more in the kitchen.

You gather the empty glasses and a few bottles with varying amounts of liquid still inside. You scrape plates into the pin and sweep napkins in after them. You fill the sink with warm soapy water to wash it all when you hear the soft but clumsy pad of feet on the stairs. They’re too light to be Nick.

You have the coffee brewing in anticipation of your boss’ hangover. The aroma wafts into the air as the machine clicks. A figure appears in the doorway and you turn to greet the woman in her sleek but wrinkled dress. This isn’t unexpected either.

“Good morning,” you greet her stunned eyes as she blanches.

“Um, I’m sorry, I was only–”

“Coffee?” You offer her as you open the cupboard, “look like you need it.”

“N-no, I… should go. Is there a Starbucks around here?” She croaks.

“No need, I can do lattes,” you offer, “he’s got this ridiculously expensive machine.”

“Er,” she looks down at the heels dangling from her hand then back to you, “sorry, are you… do you live…”

“I work for Mr. Fowler. Just the maid,” you assure her. Her assumption fills your chest with an unspent laugh. You’re far too old for Nick. Besides, the concept is ridiculous.

“Oh…” her single syllable dangles.

You pour her a cup and turn to offer it to her. Her mouth slants in a guilty smile. She shambles forward and accepts the mug.

“You take sugar, cream? Maybe some Advil?” You suggest.

“Oat milk? And yes please, my head is pounding.”

“Right, he has almond milk,” you open another cupboard and pluck out the ibuprofen, “or whole milk.”

“Almond is fine,” she accepts as you rattle the bottle.

“One or two, hon,” you ask as you approach her again.

“Two, please,” she inhales the scent of the coffee and sighs, rubbing her eye socket before extending her hand to take the tablet, “the whole bottle if I could.”

“Ugh, yeah, I don’t miss those days,” you hum and cap the bottle.

You put it away and go into the large fridge, taking out the carton of almond milk for the woman. You take it to her as she approaches the island to clink down the coffee. You watch as she adds the milk and takes a slender spoon from you to stir it in. She takes her first sip and moans before tossing back the pills.

“Coffee good?” You prompt proudly.

“Oh, yeah,” she looks up at you, “yeah, it’s great.”

“Took me a while to master the beast,” you point to the machine. “I finally got my ristretto down, too.”

She gives a nervous laugh and gulps again, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, “you’re nice… really nice. Why?”

You blink at her question. It makes you wonder, was Nick not nice? That’s not really any of your concern.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You shrug and turn to the full sink, “you’re a guest.” You plunge your hands in and scrub the porcelain, “plus, you kinda remind me of my daughter. I’d like someone to treat her nicely too.”

“Ah,” she accepts, “that’s really sweet.”

“It’s human, I hope,” you open up the dishwasher to slide in each plate.

“You really… didn’t have to make me coffee,” she murmurs.

You peek over at her as she stares into the depths. She seems sad but that might just be the hangover. You continue your work as you reply.

“It was already on. If you’re hungry–”

“Please, no, that’s okay,” she declines with a wave, “I think… I think I’ll just finish this and get an uber. Maybe go call my mom.”

“Well, you let me know if you need anything before you go,” you chime as you hook glasses into the top rack of the dishwasher.

You finish the dishes and grab a damp cloth to go wipe the table down. You stop by a few other surfaces to clear away rings from the finish and return to the kitchen. As you enter from the dining room, Nick appears in the other.

The woman faces him as she grabs her shoes, “hi.”

He growls and lumbers over to the coffee machine. He sees the mug waiting for him and peers into its empty body. You clutch the cloth in your hand as you watch his naked back tense. He wears nothing more than a pair of briefs. At most, you’ve seen him shirtless when he needs some stitches.

“More coffee?” You offer the woman.

“No, I should go,” she peeks at him nervously.

“Alright, well, you take care,” you bid her and take her cup.

“Thanks,” she says and skulks to the door, “bye, Nick.”

“Mmm,” he flicks his fingers at her as he pours himself a cup.

You narrow your eyes at his shoulder blades. That wasn’t very polite. Well, it isn’t your job to be his mother, even if it feels like it sometimes.

You put the almond milk away as he turns to lean in the corner of the counter. He presses the porcelain to his forehead and groans. You shake out the cloth over the sink and rinse it out.

“You have a daughter,” he states plainly. A question but not really.

“I do,” you answer evenly.

“I didn’t know that,” he says.

You shrug, “guess it never came up.”

"You’ve worked for me for three years…” he mutters.

“You never asked,” you say lightly, “it’s fine.”

He lowers the cup and slurps loudly. He swishes the coffee around before he swallows thickly.

“Your husband okay with you working twelves?”

You chuckle, “sir, really, it’s fine.”

His curiosity is not usual. You stick to the expected, the manageable. You don’t stray outside the lines. You’re friendly but you’re not overfamiliar. He always seemed to prefer that. He enjoyed talking about himself far more.

“You were busy yesterday,” he shifts his weight to one foot, his muscled chest rippling.

“I suppose as busy as you,” you roll in the racks of the dishwasher and add soap before closing it up.

“I… interrupted your plans?”

“Sir, it’s fine, I had a good day off and now I’m back,” you insist, “are there any other messes I need to worry about?”

He tilts his head and exhales deeply. His cheek dimples as he considers you. The cut on his head is exposed but not as bad as it was, though the bruise under his eyes has only gotten darker.

He scoffs as a smirk slants his lips, “sure. You could change my bed sheets.”

“Sure,” you accept breezily, repressing the glimmer of concern at the base of your skull. 

Something about his response seems trite, as if he means to insult you. You’re an adult, you’re less than shocked at his after hours play. By now, you’re quite used to it. He’s in his prime, he’s well off, and he’s handsome by anyone’s measure.

“You could try some witch hazel,” you touch your cheek then point at his, “for the bruising.”

“I can handle it,” he retorts and pushes himself away from the counter, “enough chattering. Get to work.”

🥃

You knock on the office door and wait for an answer. The little device you keep clipped to your belt is still buzzing with Nick’s demand. He calls to you from within and you enter.

“Sir?” You greet him.

“What took you so long?” He growls.

He’s in a foul mood. He has been all day. He can be gruff, you’re used to that, but today, he just seems prickly. His romp must not have been much fun. Come to think of it, his partner had been all too eager to flee.

You shake away the intrusive thoughts and clear your throat, “I was in the laundry room. Sorry.”

“My head is pounding,” he rubs his temples.

“Right, sir, I’ll bring you Advil and some water–”

“Don’t treat me like a child,” he snarls.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sure I’m a lot older than your daughter, so cut it out.”

“I wasn’t– sir, I’m sorry.”

“Go, get the pills,” he shoos you, “and call Rhonda.”

You nod and leave him. Wow. You don’t think he’s ever spoken to you like that. The mention of Joey also puts you off. Why is he so concerned? Most people could look at you and assume you have a kid or too. At your age, with your hips…

You go downstairs to retrieve the Advil and a tall glass of water. You climb back upstairs and follow the airy hall down to your office. As you enter, he sits with his head in his hands, his elbows on the desk. You don’t say a word as you set down the glass and pills.

He doesn’t move. You back away slowly and pull out your cell phone. You’ll call the masseuse, she should be able to work out the tension.

As you get to the door, he growls and his chair squeaks.

“You said something, about witch hazel,” he snarls.

“Uh, yes,” you face him, “it’ll take down the bruising.”

He narrows his eyes, the gesture tweaking his swollen cheek. Even battered, he isn’t unattractive. And the woman in his kitchen was just as gorgeous. So you find it hard to fathom why he’s in such a mood.

“Would you like me to get it for you, sir?” You ask, trying not to sound too pandering.

“Sure, whatever.”

You sweep away and go down the hall to the cabinet. You keep everything stocked well. Part of your job is inventory. You’ll have to go through the liquor bottles later and see what needs replenishing too.

You return to him with the witch hazel and a bag of cotton balls. You place them on his desk as he leans his head against the chairback, his eyes closed. You step back on your heel and his eyes pop open.

“Would you mind?” He motions to his face.

“Sure,” you take the cotton balls and pull one out.

You uncap the dark bottle and dampen the cotton with the liquid. His eyes close again as you sidle closer and you dab gently along his cheek. He flinches, just once, then stills. It must be cold. 

His eyes flick open again and startle you as you retract your touch. Awkwardly, you move away and gather up the bottle and bag of cotton balls. He’s quiet as he leans forward to grab the bottle of pills.

“I should’ve guessed,” he says as he shakes two tablets out, “that’s what I do. I read people. You’re a mother, for sure. She’s older, isn’t she? College? You had her young–”

“Sir,” you sniff, uncomfortable.

“Just the one. And you didn’t answer me when I talked about your husband so he must be out of the picture. Divorced. About the time you came around here, huh? You need the job after the messy break up,” he suggests as he wags his finger with a knowing grin, “probably another woman, huh?”

You blink. You’ll let him think what he wants. His opinion of your marriage isn’t important. It won’t do to correct him anyway. He doesn’t really seem to care, he just wants to wound. You just can’t figure out what you’ve done to deserve it.

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #blurred lines #the 355

[colormepurplex2]

Work Hard, Play Harder | Rewards

↳  Yoongi x f.Reader ⤜ Strangers/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 5,449 ⚠️ Light sub/dom tones, spitting/spit kink in a mildly degrading way but also spicy, spanking, public sex, rough sex, cum eating, exhibitionism, throat fucking, hair pulling

⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to chapter list

"You have a game today, right?" Jules asks over slices of toast. Your morning routine helps ground you. Over the last two weeks, Yoongi has turned your world upside down. You now dread Fridays and have an endless supply of ibuprofen in your bag.

You wave a piece of buttered toast in the air toward her. "Yep. It'll be my first game on the bench."

"And he will be there?" She sneers a little when she says he. Jules quickly became president of the anti-Yoongi club after you filled her in on your sessions with him. She pouted for an entire day when you told her the TA was hot but definitely wasn't someone you could just give woo-woo eyes to. No, he's got a stick up his ass even farther than a professor. Though, you wouldn't believe it considering the way he moves. He's all elegance and grace when he's with you. Moves in a way that makes you envious, like his body was made to play basketball.

"Unfortunately," you grumble.

Jules huffs a sigh. "Well, maybe he won't be so bad if it's a game day. No training and all that, so no reason to be an asshole."

You scoff softly. "Not likely. He's still in charge of me on game days. Get's to tell me to jump and I have to ask how high." Again, if eye-rolling were a sport...

"I'll make brownies tonight," Jules offers with a smile, waggling her eyebrows.

"Fuck, Jules," you whine pathetically, "okay. But, please make some that aren't special. You and Ry can have all the fun and I'll just watch...enviously."

Jules bounces on her toes, oozing excitement. "Maybe Ry will get stoned enough to want to kiss it and make it better for you." She gives you a devilish smirk and bites her bottom lip.

It wouldn't be the first time your other best friend, Ryan, has offered to be a soothing balm for life's little shit parties. It's always been casual, with a mutual understanding and agreement. No feelings, just fucks. It's been a while, but maybe you do need to blow off some steam.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" You ask Jules with a laugh, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. "I'll catch you later. I expect piping hot brownies. Oh! And ice cream!" You add before tugging the door closed behind you.

You're feeling a little lighter, definitely in a bit of a better mood now. Pulling out your phone you open your text thread with Ryan and send him a winky face and cake emoji along with a time. He'll come over regardless of the emoji'd offers, simply because that's just how Ry is. Ryan's reply of the eyebrow raised emoji makes you laugh but before you can type back a reply of your own, your phone disappears.

Your head comes up, lips and tongue poised to give a lashing to whoever has decided to rain on your morning parade...but, it's Yoongi standing right in front of you, your phone in his hand. "You communicate through emojis? How juvenile."

"Give that back!" You lunge toward your phone but Yoongi just raises it up, far enough out of your reach that you would need to jump in order to try and grab it. He's not gargantuan, but he's taller than you and he's using that to his advantage now. "What the fuck is your problem?" You shove his shoulder and he stumbles back a few steps.

"Who said I have a problem?" He muses.

"Give it back," you demand again, holding out your hand palm up.

He brings his hand down and you think he's going to give the phone back to you but he slips it into the front pocket of his joggers instead. "How about," he pauses, closing the distance between you, forcing you to drop your hand or have it mashed against his chest, "you earn it back?"

You give him an incredulous look. "Earn it? It's my fucking phone you jackass, give it back!" He just smirks. The self-righteous prick! He better be glad he's good looking or you might introduce your fist to his face. You grit your teeth and a thought crosses your mind. "Fine, you want to be like that, fine."

He goes to turn, preparing to walk away with your phone still in his pocket when you make your move. You sling your left arm around his waist and cage him against you. Just as you hoped, he's caught off guard and you use that surprise to your advantage. With your right hand, you snake it between your bodies and shove it into his pocket. You hadn't accounted for your bodies being pressed together so tightly, so extracting your hand with the phone gripped in it isn't as easy as you thought it might be.

"If you wanted to touch me all you had to do was ask," his voice comes out in a low growl, eyes boring into yours. You're just about to abandon your phone when his arms come around you and pin you to him, too. You struggle against his hold, hand still deep inside his pocket. He grunts and you both freeze. Adrenaline is pumping and you can feel your own pulse in your temple. Your mind races, trying to explain away what exactly just happened, what you felt...surely there is something else...another explanation. Though, by the heat flaring through his eyes you know, there isn't. In all your wiggling against him, hand flailing around in his pocket, you 100% grazed along the side of his now evident erection.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," you gasp, finally wrenching yourself from his arms, hand springing free from his pocket. Forget the phone, forget it. He can have it.

You can see his throat bob as he swallows. It takes tremendous willpower to not glance down as he adjusts the bottom of his hoodie to settle further down his hips. His eyes narrow and the corner of his mouth tugs up in a small smile. "I don't think you are sorry," he purrs. Yoongi pats his pocket, where your phone is located. "Be a good girl and show up to class a little early, I'll let you earn a few extra points towards getting this back."

He turns and leaves you there, standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Your senses come whooshing back in, making you suddenly aware of your surroundings. You dart a look around, thankful not to see anyone else nearby. Your cheeks are flaming crimson and you can't seem to catch your breath, but you forge ahead and manage to make it to your first class of the day without any further incidents. 🏀🏀🏀

The day drags on and the closer you get to your research class the angrier you become. Without your phone, you haven't been able to reach out to Ryan or Jules to let them know about the run-in with Yoongi this morning. You can barely concentrate in your morning classes, but thankfully you have an extended break before your last class begins. You usually spend this time studying or grabbing lunch.

Today, however, you venture to the other side of campus in search of Jules. She doesn't have quite as long a break as you do, but you know you should be able to catch her coming out of her class soon. You're rounding the corner of the theatre building when you stop short, spotting a familiar figure up ahead coming right toward you, you curse and quickly back peddle. Why the hell is Yoongi on this side of campus?! Thankful to be wearing a watch, you check the time and know if you don't take this route to Jules class you'll miss her, all the other paths take too long.

"Fuck," you mutter under your breath, resigning to heading back toward the sports complex instead. Maybe if you show up early enough you can pummel Yoongi into a pulp before class begins. You push yourself to move faster, cursing Yoongi the whole way to the gym.

There is another class still going on inside the gym itself so you sit outside in the lobby and wait. Every little noise has you whipping your head around, hoping Yoongi doesn't come strolling in through one of the doors while you're sitting here. The last thing you want is to be faced with him again without a court under your feet. All your boasting thoughts earlier about beating the shit out of him have dwindled to just wanting to get your phone back and get through class so you can wallow on the couch with Jules and Ry later and maybe get a little stress relief without the laced brownies.

As soon as the class lets out of the gym you slip inside and settle on the bleachers near the door. It's still about thirty minutes or so before your class is scheduled to be in here. Professor Sumner and Dr. Rei will hopefully be arriving just before class, so they can get the research students from Rei's lab to help set up the monitors and other equipment they'll use for data collection.

You hear footsteps coming from the hallway, but it doesn't sound like enough steps to be a full class or even the research students from Dr. Rei's lab. Dropping your bag by your feet you lean out, trying to see if you can see whoever it is through the glass panes in the doors before they enter. The face that appears in the pane before the door begins to push open has your heart leaping into your throat.

The guy steps in and holds the door open, admitting another guy with Yoongi following. "Why are they here?"

Yoongi shrugs. "Moral support?"

"Give me my phone back," you deadpan.

"You'll get it back after the game." Yoongi nods towards the court. "We have about twenty minutes before Sumner and Rei show up, how about a warmup?"

"I don't need to warm up, I'm benched today, in case you've forgotten."

"Hmm, no, perhaps not." He gives you a once-over as his two friends take seats at the bottom of the bleachers. You've seen them before, hanging out with him...running shirtless with him. "But, you do need to change into your uniform at least."

Your brows pinch together and you glance down at your grey t-shirt and jeans. In all the fuss and anxiety over Yoongi, you completely forgot to change before coming to the gym. "Fuck you," you mumble, snatching up your bag and heading towards the door into the lady's locker room.

As you step past him, Yoongi grabs your wrist and pulls you up short, your chest bouncing against his. "Is that what you want?" He asks in a low tone. "To fuck me?"

The husk in his voice sends tingles down your spine. Yes, you do. You have for a very long time. For three years, in fact. But, you can't admit that, not so brazenly. Not to mention the complete brute he's been as your mock trainer. Though, you might like that a little more than you've let on. "Let go of me," the words come out soft and hooked on the end of a shudder.

He smiles, but it's not a sweet smile. No, it's a smile full of promises. Promises to deliver, to play ball...pun intended. "Go change." He releases your wrist and you stumble away, making a beeline for the locker room.

By the time you've conquered your rapid heart rate and put your uniform on, you can hear the distinct noise of the other students in the gym. All of the athlete students are warming up, doing stretches, practicing passes, and shooting. The research half of the class is mingling with Dr. Rei's group from his lab, working together to make sure the data equipment is all working as it should. You spot Yoongi talking with Professor Sumner and Dr. Rei. He extends a hand, gesturing to you as you exit the locker room and your eyes meet Sumner's. He nods, saying something to Yoongi that you're too far away to hear. Though, the delight that spreads across Yoongi's face has your lip curling in a sneer.

"You'll be benched, but you'll also be running data with Yoongi," Sumner explains as you approach them.

Dr. Rei claps you on the shoulder. "The probation element of this is going to be most helpful, I almost want to thank you for failing that test. This research is crucial for the future of this sports department." He nods to Sumner and moves off to speak with the people from his lab.

Sumner gives you a half-hearted smile. "Listen to your trainer, he'll be providing a full report tomorrow that will go towards your test grade." You swallow the tart reply forming on your tongue about how it's not fair that Yoongi's feedback gets to dictate your grade. But, you seem to be at his mercy unless you want to take the hit for the class or push back graduation by a semester. He turns away from you and addresses the whole gym. "Okay, everyone, let's get this game started. Jackson," he begins to walk away and gestures to the team captain, "you're on."

"Don't look so put out," Yoongi sidles up next to you and fingers the hem of the side of your jersey. "I promise to give Sumner nothing but a good report if you play nice."

You whirl on him, eyes blazing with irritation. "What are you getting at here, huh?" You take a step closer, coming toe to toe with him.

"As long as you work hard," he flicks the tip of your nose in a playful manner that has you seeing red. "We can play even harder." The low chuckle that spills from between his lips instantly flips a switch and you're seeing red with a whole different feeling.

"I don't want to play your games, asshole." You're lying through your teeth and he knows it. His chest grazes yours as he sucks in a breath to laugh.

"Careful, people are watching," he snarks softly, after his laugh tapers off, eyes darting over your shoulder.

You clear your throat, hastily step away, and give him your back. Sure enough, there are a lot of people trying to discreetly watch your and Yoongi's interaction. "Just tell me what to do, Yoongi, and stop dicking around."

Another soft chuckle comes from behind you. "You can start by sitting your mouthy little ass on the bench until the game begins." Of course, he speaks so low no one else can hear his lewd words. "Until everyone else is so distracted that they won't see me fucking you under the bleachers."

You gape at him, forcing your mind to actually wrap around what he just said. It's hard, real hard. You think you might just short circuit. Surely, he's joking. He's just trying to get a rise out of you...and it's working. "You're delusional."

He stops a few feet past you, casting you a glance over his shoulder. "I'm not the one that's been drooling over someone for the last three years." His eyes flick from your toes back up to your face. "Just the last two weeks."

Your cheeks burn. You're so warm you think you might pass out if you don't sit down. So, you park your dazed ass down on the bench along the side of the court and zone out as the game begins. On game days, the class runs a little longer to accommodate for the game itself and the data collection at the end of it. You're not sure how you're supposed to survive for an hour and a half being tormented and sexually frustrated by Yoongi. Because that's exactly what he's doing. The minute you sat down, you became intimately aware of the pooling arousal in your shorts. So much for not wanting to fuck him.

It's not until the whistle blows to signal the start of the first half that you realize what Yoongi had just admitted to you. He'd called you out on your pining for him, but had also offered a kernel of his own in that he's been the one drooling over you for the last two weeks. Sweat pricks along the nape of your neck. One of Rei's research collectors steps into your view and gives you a quizzical look.

"Are you okay?" They ask. "You look a little pale."

"I'm fine," you wheeze. "Uh, umm, is there anything I can do for you guys?" You're desperate for something to keep your mind off of Yoongi.

"Not just yet. After the game, though, for sure. We'll need some help making sure we collect all the vitals from the athletes, you can help with that," they offer with a smile. They nod toward Yoongi, who is standing at the other end of the court, "you should ask your trainer, I'm sure he has something you can be doing."

Your attention follows their nod, eyes landing on Yoongi. He's got his arms crossed over his chest, talking with Dr. Rei. Rei waves a dismissive hand and Yoongi smirks as the older man's attention goes to his research assistant on the other side of him. "Right. My trainer," you mumble to yourself, the research student already having moved further down the court.

Yoongi meets your eyes and he jerks his chin to the side, beckoning you over. You're tempted to stay right where you are, ignore him completely. But, your eyes flicker to Sumner and you know you have to play nice with Yoongi in order to receive a good report tomorrow. Fuck. You keep your attention swiveling between the game and Yoongi until you come up to him.

"Nervous?" He asks.

"What do I have to be nervous about?" You hiss under your breath.

He steps around you, putting his back to the court and essentially blocking you from everyone else except his friends who are still sitting on the bleachers behind you. "I meant what I said." His eyes flick over your shoulder, towards the bleachers, before coming back to yours. He's serious, he's fucking serious.

"Don't be ridiculous, we can't...I mean, it's not- why?" You fumble through your thoughts, searching his eyes for any glimmer of humor. There is none, all you see is pure unadulterated desire.

"Why?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. "Why not? It'll be fun, c'mon, come play with me." Yoongi toys with a lock of your hair, twirling it around his finger. "I promise you'll have fun."

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. His eyes hone in on the action and you can see his eyes darker, pupils expanding. "Aren't you- won't we, umm, aren't you worried about getting caught?" You whisper, trying to take in calming breaths.

"Mmm, how cute, you're worried about someone seeing us? Don't worry, kitten, that's what my friends are for," he purrs, grabbing you by the elbow and pulling you along behind him.

You shoot a glance back towards the court over your shoulder. No one is so much as paying even the slightest bit of attention to you or Yoongi walking away. As you bring your attention back forward your eye catches Yoongi's two friends as they stand up from their seats at the bottom of the bleachers. You can feel their presence behind you as Yoongi continues pulling you along the side of the bleachers. Just as you think he's about to usher you through the double doors, he cuts a sharp right and tugs you into the darkness under the bleachers.

"Yoongi, seriously, we're going to get caught!" You whisper yell as you're dragged along. It's not completely dark back here, a little bit of light filters through the gaps between the rows of bleachers, but it's not nearly enough that you don't trust yourself to not trip over something. There is a myriad of crossed metal support poles and great steel beams, Yoongi moves through them with ease.

He stops, turning and pulling you up against him. "We'll only get caught if you let us." Yoongi is still gripping your arm with one hand, he brings the other up and cups the side of your face. His expression becomes serious for a moment. "Do you want this? If you don't you can leave and I'll still give Sumner a good report for you tomorrow, I promise. This is your choice." His offering and change in demeanor take you by surprise. All his taunting and pushing have been part of his act, but now he's being genuinely sincere. If you don't want this, he'll respect that. The corner of your mouth tugs up in a small smile realizing he's seeking your consent before doing anything you may not want.

"If we get caught, we'll both probably get in a lot of trouble...maybe even expelled. You'd risk that?" You ask softly, not meeting his eyes.

He chuckles. "That won't happen. But, yes."

"Okay, Yoongi, let's play."

A finger under your chin tilts your head back until you look up at him. "Good. Now, be a good little girl and say 'ahh'." You give him a quizzical look, confused. His hand splays out gripping your face, fingers digging into one cheek and thumb into the other until your lips are puckered open. He wrenches his hand, squeezing harder until your jaw opens under the pressure. "When I say to do something, you do it," he growls and his eyes flash. In one quick motion, he leans forward and spits into your mouth. You flinch as stray dots of his saliva pepper your lips, the bulk of the warm liquid hitting your tongue. His hand releases your cheeks, sliding back over your chin to press your mouth closed. "Swallow."

Your chest is heaving. It takes a few times but you finally gather enough moisture in your mouth, his included, to do as you're told. It's hard to tell whether you're turned on or feeling humiliated by his actions. You've never had someone actually spit in your mouth before. Before you can form words, his lips are slanting over yours. You feel his tongue slide across the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. As soon as you part your lips, he's invading your mouth. It's a bruising and all-consuming kiss that leaves you breathless when he finally pulls away.

"Fuck," you exhale in a rush.

"On your knees," he commands. You cast a glance behind you, barely able to make out the other students through the small gaps in the bleachers. With one last thought about getting caught, you drop to your knees in front of Yoongi, bringing your attention back to him. You come at eye level with the very prominent bulge in his joggers. Yoongi can see your hesitation, the way you awkwardly twiddle your fingers in front of you. "You can touch me, it's okay," he encourages in a soft tone.

He combs his fingers through your hair as you reach up and curl your fingers over the waistband of his pants. A subtle ache settles between your thighs, anticipation mounting. The gray material slides down easily, revealing tight black boxer briefs that are straining in the front. One more flick of your wrist and his thick cock is springing free. "Oh, shit," you whisper, eyes going wide as you take in just how big he is. There is a glistening bead of precum already forming at the tip. He's velvety smooth and warm under your hand as you glide your fingers along his length.

"Have a taste, kitten," Yoongi groans, gathering a handful of your hair. He doesn't push or tug on it, just uses it as a tether for now. A throaty groan escapes him as you lave your tongue across the broad crown, swirling in a quick succession of blistering strokes. You slip your free hand over the band of his pants, still hugging his legs mid-thigh, and gently cup his balls. Yoongi sucks in a breath at the touch, his stomach muscles contracting beneath his bulky hoodie. You let him slip past your lips, going as far as you can before your gag reflex is shoving you back. He adjusts his grip on your hair, gathering a second fistful. "Relax," he soothes, his voice turning your tense muscles into jelly.

Your jaw goes slack and you take a steadying breath through your nose as he begins to work his hips, slowly fucking into your mouth. His balls contract in your hand as you massage them, bringing out another throaty groan from him. It's hard to not let the mix of your saliva and his precum gather at the corners of your mouth. You can feel it start to dribble down your chin. After a few more languid thrusts, letting you get used to the motions, he picks up his rhythm. Your free hand fists into the fabric of his joggers as he pistons between your lips. It takes all of your concentration not to gag as tears prick the corners of your eyes and he enters into the back of your throat.

Just as you're starting to pant in semi-panicked breaths, Yoongi relents and pulls completely out of your mouth. With his cock comes a gushing mess of saliva and precum. He releases your hair and you surge up onto your feet, capturing his lips with yours, letting him taste himself on your tongue. Yoongi moans into your mouth, hands grappling with the band of your burgundy basketball shorts. "Fuck me," you pant, finally breaking away from the kiss. His lips are wet and puffy, kiss-swollen and perfect.

Yoongi spins you around, bringing your back hard against his front. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" His top lip curls into a sexy sneer. He grips the front of your jersey and hauls it up over your head.

"Yes," you plead, pushing your ass back against his still-out cock. There is a crossing metal 'x' of support beams in front of you that you latch on to for support. It gives you the perfect leverage to arch your back and jut your ass out.

His breath is hot on your neck as his lips brush the shell of your ear. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk out of here." The whispered words ring with promises.

The bratty response on your tongue withers away as Yoongi shoves down your shorts and panties. He knees apart your legs, grips your hip with one hand, and uses the other to guide himself to your aching core. He swears colorfully as he presses between your thighs, letting the tip of his cock slide through your gathered arousal.

"Yoongi," you moan his name as he begins to sink into you, one agonizing inch after another. It's almost too much, the fire that lances through your body as it flounders to accommodate his considerable size. Your chest heaves with short breaths. Tears, once again, burn at the corners of your eyes. You're about to cry out in protest but slinky fabric being shoved into your mouth cuts off the sound. Yoongi secures the ends of your crumpled jersey behind your head.

He halts his forward push for a moment. "Sorry, kitten, gotta keep the noise down. Pinch my thigh if it's too much, okay?" You take the momentary pause to assess your body. He's bigger than anything or anyone you've ever had before, but you can feel your body adjusting. The pain soothing into a heated pleasure with each passing second. You nod, tightening your grip on the metal bars. "Good girl," Yoongi praises in your ear. Yoongi slips a hand into your hair again, using the tension to turn your head slightly to the right. "Let's show my friends how good of a trainer I am." He chuckles as he feels your walls contract around him in response. The grip in your hair vanishes as he drops the hand to your other hip and grips tightly, sure to leave bruises.

Your eyes are wide as they take in his two friends standing just within the darkness under the bleachers. The dragon-eyed botany major and the slim-bodied performing arts major are faces you associate with Yoongi's bubble. Having them watch him fuck you, claim you, has a whole new wave of fire coursing through your veins. They take turns watching, switching from the court to you and Yoongi. Before you realize it, you're adding your own flare, putting on your own show. Loosening your grip with one hand, you bring it up and pull down the neck of your sports bra, exposing your breasts. Using deft fingers, you tweak your nipples, rolling and tugging them. You begin to meet Yoongi's thrusts, rocking back into them.

The world outside vanishes, as if there isn't a mock basketball game happening just twenty yards away. The crack of skin on skin brings you back to reality and has you squealing around the shirt gag in your mouth. The reaction is swiftly followed by panic as your eyes dart to the gaps between the bleachers because you can almost guarantee someone heard Yoongi's palm connecting with your bare asscheek. You throw a look over your shoulder at Yoongi as he continues to pound into you. Sweat-slicked hair clings to his forehead, his bottom lip is caught harshly between his teeth as his eyes are zeroed in on where your bodies connect. He seems completely oblivious to just how loud the sound is as he quickly lands another stinging spank on your other asscheek. Thankfully, this one is covered by the sound of a whistle blowing. That seems to drag Yoongi out of his single-mindedness.

His eyes flicker ahead of you, probably assessing the game's progress. Yoongi slows the momentum of his hips, rolling them against you in a way that grinds him deep. The jersey comes loose with one tug from Yoongi. You pull the fabric free, sucking in breaths of clean air. "Fuck, Yoongi." You hang your head, letting your chin drop to your chest for a moment as he leans against your back.

"Now, I'm going to make you cum." He says it more like a command than anything. One of his hands slips around your hip, dipping between your thighs in the front until his slender fingers find your clit. He begins smooth circles, rubbing the swollen bundle of nerves until your toes curl in your sneakers. With his other hand, he grips your hair and pulls your head back, exposing the side of your neck to him. Using his tongue and teeth, he leaves nipping marks that he soothes with his tongue.

He's so meticulous with his attention, adding just the right amount of pressure. The mix of pleasure and pain has you squeezing your eyes closed and your walls gripping him. "Oh, fuck, I'm about to-" The hand that was in your hair muffles your words as he clamps it over your gaping mouth.

Your own name leaves Yoongi's lips, carried on a soft moan. Pleasure rips through you, your orgasm hitting so hard the vision behind your eyelids flickers. You can feel each spurt of warmth as Yoongi empties himself deep within your body. Suspended there, somewhere between coherent and not, Yoongi slowly withdraws from you. With gentle hands, he removes your stony grip from the metal bar and turns you to face him. He's equally as gentle as he fixes your bra and tugs the rumpled jersey back over your head. Your eyes meet his and you see a mischievous glint light within them. "Say 'ahh'," he repeats his command from earlier. Without hesitation this time, you open your mouth wide. You jump a little as you feel his hand between your thighs, dipping into you. Yoongi brings up cum covered fingers that glisten slightly in the dim lighting. He places them on your tongue and you automatically seal them in your mouth with your lips. There is a wicked fascination playing in his eyes, now, as you swirl your tongue around his fingers until he's slipping them back out of your mouth. He grips the sides of your shorts, gently pulling them back over your hips and settling them back in place. As he brings his hands to his own pants, you halt him, placing your hands over his. You brush them aside, righting his pants for him. You're gentle in tucking his cock back in his pants, doing your best to not get any of the drying cum still coating it, onto the outside of his pants.

"Good game," you offer in a soft but playful tone.

Yoongi just suppresses a snort, rubbing his jaw with a smile tugging at his lips. "I expect you to perform just as well during our next session." His mouth finally pulls into a full-on grin. His arms band around your waist, hauling you against him. "As long as you still want to play."

So, this is actually a thing...Yoongi wants to continue playing. The thought sends a thrill slithering down your spine.

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◅ Back to Master List ©️    2022-04-01    ColorMePurplex2  

#bts #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts angst #bts smut #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #bts strangers to lovers #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #bts non idol au #bts college au #yoongi fanfic #ta yoongi #student reader #bangtanwritershq #yoongi basketball #bts sports au

[princess-pill-enjoyer]

Yet another notice that I aint dead just yet!

That meltdown was.... pretty bad I won't lie. I actually did try that time.. first time in 5 years lmfao

I won't go too in detail. I feel like I talk too much all to say the same two things over and over again. It was a really weird feeling though. My previous attempts throughout my childhood were kinda misguided. Like the intent was there and all but.. ya know. Barely got over the fear of my parents busting through my room with printouts of my search history 😭

Soo although throughout my life I've probably tried to unalive myself 7-8 different times I really only count or mention about 2 of them (and barely that tbh). I never really researched further into what exactly it'd take for all that. I think the good majority of those are random days I'd get upset and just pop a few handfuls of... usually ibuprofen? I mightve tried it with Tylenol as well but 9 times outta 10 we'd usually have more orange pills so it just made sense in my mind

Anyway. Yeah. First time really being 1000% certain about what it'd take. It was kinda scary. Having all the shit just.. lying there. Knowing that it was gonna at the very least cause some actual damage once it was all said and done. It didn't end up mattering anyway. I mean. I'm here 💀💀💀

As far as life updates? Uhh. Well me and R are speaking. Not really but. I at the very least can almost always know she's safe + alive so I'm fine with it for now. I really don't have the energy atp to fight to go back to before her ex dipped

Uhh i think I dipped right before my training really started but today was my first day really doing the job part of it. It was alr. I'm gonna jump ship as soon as I get my preferred place all down pact but for now the only real downsides is A. Having to verbally speak for hours and hours kinda having to throw away my speak-when-spoken-to/tbr... only when needed to keep up with appearances. Hence why 99% of what I say nowadays is just shit I'd expect the person to want to hear. I really want to just get out the conversation as quick as possible for the most part

Side tracked sorry. B. Being that my shit while being pretty easy, is also kinda limited. Like there can fr be someone sitting there boohooing about how they lost all their money in a house fire that killed their whole ass family and blew up all the cars or something and I'd STILL have to ask well is there anyone else I can send the payment to? We can't service you until the payment is authorized. Or possibly even cutting off people if they take too long not to effect my AHT.. I hate that shit. I'm pretty good at just nodding along and taking whatever but I HATEEE that I gotta kinda give af while also not caring enough to fight too hard for them since I can just poof my contract away doing that too much apparently..

Ah shit speaking of above and beyond.. my dumbass prolly just got scammed

🗿🗿🗿

Don't laugh when you read this alr...

LOOK so basically. This woman named noreen came in my dms talking bout some omg bro PLEASE if you got it.. spare like $12 I am STRUGGLING. And I'm sitting there like damn... I only just got this $200 my stepmom/dad owed me annd I just paid off all the small debts I had from this lecture money I end up getting from my mom

The orange section is unrelated but I get "small debts" sounds shady so context

Long story short, was borrowing and putting back thru cash app borrow so I can slowly increase my borrow limit showing ya know like I'm not gon just spend what I don't have and just leave my shit overdue, tho during that period in April-early May I started blowing through any and all money thinking it wouldn't matter. But my shitty spending habits caught up to me when I not only didn't get as much as I was expecting from this one shit, I also balled out depending on said money with the little I had left somehow someway needing to pay off seemingly 1000 things all at once. I got it mostly under control in right after my middle sister's birthday and now it's back to normal.

Basically I told her the last/less dire parts of that and kinda explained I don't really buy too much of anything with it it's just OLD. When another emergency finally came through and forced my hand as far as spending, it finally came to a head where I didnt have enough to borrow so I could pay it off again. She kinda scolded me for letting it carry on for that long and explained the normal stuff. I didn't really let thst lesson sink in tbh. I know I should've but knowing it was moreso my situations putting me there I just kinda.. nodded along and hoped for the best. I didn't think she'd help me tho

Tho... my dumbass. Ack. I really need to get my spending together. I'm a lot better don't get me wrong. I'm not as huge of a fast food person as I was in the past. I'm not as big on balling out on whatever game I happen to like for the month or two I'm hyperfixated on it. I try to stay within my means even knowing damn well I don't really have anything that i urgently need to pay. Not to say I'm completely dependent, I still have a few things I have to keep up with on my end but I know even if I have $0 in my bank acc, I'll have something to eat and somewhere to rest

Whiiich in the past kinda led to me balling just cause. I won't lie.. seeing me blow through my open house money in a year. That switched INSTANTLY. I always thought it was out of never really getting to have anything new so I thought I'd just get everything I wanted and be okay from there. But going through... soooo much money.. yesh. That sure as hell ain't the only reason

Anyway I bring all that up to say Im kinda shocked that even with that, my dumbass still be shelling out money over nothing at times. I don't get why atp.. The woman dmed me and I asked a few things feeling like I could tell she wasn't a bot or anything.

Then I sent like $20 cause I felt bad for interrogating the poor girl in the first place.

Rhen like a day or two later she asked for 10 (£. Pounds are a little more valuable than usd) and I figure well damn. I even gave her some extra the first time. She must be really desperate. So I gave another $15.

But then TODAYYYY she asked for another 10 and that's about when I started to put two and two together. By that point I had already given bout triple the amount she was initially asking for. I get shit being more costly than you thought but like.. bruh. I just gave her another $15 and said that I couldn't give anymore past that. I was pretty polite about it just incase I am just being paranoid.

But yeah.. I'm out $50 cause I tried to help spme random. I don't really regret it. It's not really like I had anything too too much better to do with that. Plus, at thr end of the day, it's $50. It's a lot yeah but its not life changing or anything. I'd rather possibly get scammed out of some petty money like that than being too paranoid and not helping someone I could so easily help. I still feel like an idiot tho lol

Uhh in my addiction news.. I actually unintentionally broke the cycle for a little. I bought these thc disposables to try and give my stomach a break from all the pills. It had already started back burning from it all and my unaliving situation made it really bad. Though it was only for about a week. Then I started mixing em. I've gone back to my once or twice a day habit now. Currently on about 650. There's a small part of me that's starting to care less and less about my problem. It's just been too much. I cant even try to care atp

I'm pretty much never sober. I smoke during training all the time and I almost always take dph during the night. Sometimes, I'll even take both right before my training. It's one of the perks of working online ig lol. I'm gonna try and start scaling it back some since I now gotta stay pretty normal for calls. Once I memorize scripts annd ain't so nervous I'll probably go back go it but for now I kinda cant

Uh yeah but.. that's bout it. I'm finna take a nap. Shits hitting me harder than I expected and I just smoked a before I hopped on here

#dph #benadryl #diphenhydramine #dph addiction #update #excessively long

[darkacademicfrom2021]

The Dark Team (part 13)

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(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman, @idontknow296, @beksib, @spythoschei, @geekwritersworld, @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 @toe-vind-ek-jou @joscelyn02, @t00-pi, @irwxnhugsx )

Warnings: creepy man, hungover (alcohol mentions), abduction mentions.

Chirping birds woke you up as the light hit your face. It was a slightly sunny morning, you could see. A cold one, too. Your head ached; yesterday’s wine was stronger than you’d think. You remembered very little, and the hangover weighed on your feet as you tried to stand up. Soon, that weight redistributed up to your head, dizziness almost throwing you back in bed.

With much more effort than before, you got up and walked slowly to the kitchen, glancing around. Last night, a sticky kid fell asleep on the doorframe. You chuckled and decided to not wake him up. Loki was nowhere to be found; must be sleeping in his own room, if he had one by then.

An ibuprofen and some cold water later, you checked the time. It was so early; six in the morning. You decided to get working already; maybe someone on the team was awake. If not, you could at least take things off your to-do list for the day and get time free at noon to play videogames with Peter, or help him with that Lego Stark Tower he has been trying to build for almost two weeks now. A nice walk in the park to get some fresh air until some coffee shop opened; that’s what you needed.

The streets were emptier than you’d imagine, and then you realized it was saturday. Peeping in, a coffee shop next block was already opening, and people were lining up to get in. You made sure to have brought money and a laptop with you, and as you reached your pockets you realized you had your suit on, under normal clothes. Well, at least I’m prepared for anything now. Even a sunday morning in a lovely coffee shop, you thought, laughing to yourself. If Tony saw you like this, he’d recall that word he says you inherited from him. Paranoid. But no, Stark, I’m just hungover. Good to know your first instinct once you get up off bed is to suit up. Tony'd be proud. And a little disappointed, too.

You got a table far from the window, wall behind your back making sure nobody could eye your laptop. Once you were settled in and your coffee was getting cold, you started working. You were so glad you were out of the public eye, so you could afford yourself all of these outside activities. Sounded stupid, but if you were to have dinner with Sam, or Steve, or Thor, you’d have to also deal with paparazzis all night long. Actually, in dining out with Thor, paparazzis would be the least of your problems.

“Hey”, greeted Bucky from the other line. “It’s so early, what are you doing up?”.

“Buck, it’s already ten”.

“Oh”, he said, and you heard a sliding curtain by his side. “Oh, there it is. Sunlight”.

“Why are your times all twisted?”.

“We stayed up until five”.

“Doing what?”.

“Let’s say the mini bar was not so mini”.

“Oh my God”, you laughed, and checked for your work on the laptop. “At this point, I think the only one who didn’t get drunk last night is Spidey. Ah. Listen, I’ve arranged today’s plan, and it has to go right or else you can get abducted again. And we don’t want that, okay?”.

“I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do now. Didn’t we already get the stick?”.

“That’s the point, there’s more… you know, bottles hanging around” you lowered your voice. The coffee shop was almost empty, but just in case, you kept it under your breath. “That’s why you gotta get into Hydra’s last base again. Do not go alone”.

You instructed Bucky and then he tried his best to put you on speaker to the rest of the team, but failed. None of them could actually figure out how to do it; Steve was even less familiar with cell phones, and Thor… well, not even elaborating on him. The only Asgardian who seemed familiar enough with Midgard’s technologies was sleeping soundly on the compound. You had to explain the plan thoroughly another two times individually, and then finally hung up and got to work, sending them coordinates and turning off Hydra’s hacked security cameras.

Once they were already in, you had not much more to do. At least for a few hours, they’d be completely submerged in there, and your help wasn’t needed anymore. You still planned for some outcomes and didn’t even notice the man standing in front of you.

“Excus…”.

“OH... my God”, you gasped, taking yourself off your hyper focused state. The man chuckled. His teeth, yellow, seemed like he didn’t know anything about dental hygiene. His clothes were perfectly cleaned, though, in a tidy office-type suit; but his hair was hidden by a peaked cap that barely let you see his eye expressions. Very weird looking. Hard to read. Just now unemployed? Dressed like that to get attention? You frowned and closed all tabs, opening a fake account of email and some cheap online magazine. “What do you need?”.

“Can I sit here?”.

“No”.

He smiled weirdly and manspreaded in the chair you told him not to sit in. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“What are you doing?”, he asked.

You ignore him and keep pretending to read your mails, eyeing how many people were in there too. It was getting fuller than before. If he wanted to steal your laptop he’d have to do it in front of all of these people, and cross the whole coffee shop. He wasn’t planning on stealing. You made a security copy of all the files anyways.

“You have pretty eyes”.

You ignored him again, but now understood his intentions. God, people could be so shameless sometimes. You literally told him to go away. You’ll repeat it, just in case he would actually listen this time.

“Go away”.

He chuckled and stayed in place.

“I just want to talk, sweetie”.

“Sure. I’m not interested”.

“You have a boyfriend?”.

“I have a very strong fist”.

He got closer, leaning on the table, and lowering his voice said “You’re working on the supersoldiers mission, yes?”.

You froze. Suddenly, the creepy man was a bigger threat than you’d anticipated. Your hand hovered over the gun in your pocket, holding strong eye contact with him.

“Who are you?”.

“What do you have in your pocket?”, he teased.

“Wanna find out?”, you threatened.

Looking over his shoulder, an all-too-familiar fifteen year old hid behind a pile of coffee cups from the bar counter, holding his breath to not laugh. You sighed and broke the tension.

“Funny. Very funny. I almost shoot you, you know”.

“That’s not a very good instinct”.

“Not an instinct, I truly wanted to shoot you”.

“You sure were, pancake”, he said as he transformed back into himself, still in those ugly clothes covering half his face. As he looked down to himself, he frowned and changed his clothes to an Asgardian armor. “But your mortal bullets would be no more than a caress to my skin”.

“Let’s give it a try, shall we?”, you cocked your gun, joking. He laughed, and Peter got increasingly nervous as you played with your toys in a public and safe place, surrounded by civilians. “Don’t worry, Pete, it’s fake”.

Peter sighed in relief as you clarified and put it back in your pocket, and Loki smirked, knowing perfectly well you just lied.

“Why don’t we get something to drink, too, mr. Loki?”.

“Yeah, whatever you want, kid”.

“Not a kid”.

“Apologies. Actually, can you order it? I’m afraid Midgardians don’t usually take kindly to my presence”, he asked. Peter nodded.

“I do, mr. Loki”.

"What?".

"Take it kindky".

Loki smiled and raised his eyebrows, a bit confused. Muttered an “I’m glad” and instructed him to get an americano, while you packed your laptop in the backpack.

"How's the incognito working out for you in your shiny armor?"

"Better than before. At least now I'm comfortable while getting the same bad looks I always get anyways".

"Shapeshifter can't manage to hide, how ironic", you said, giving him one of the new earbuds, with an attachable mic. "Since you have good strategy plans and you sort of know what you're doing, work with me".

"I thought we were already working together. You know, in this stupid thing called The Dark...".

"Yeah", you interrupted him, rolling your eyes once again. "From behind the scenes, I mean. This is so you can listen to whatever my earbud hears. Don't bite your tongue if you have any inputs, I'm running out of solutions".

Your phone rang again as you were getting up.

“Yes?”.

“It’s all gone to trash, y/n. We need a new plan, I can’t find Buck anywhere. What’s your backup?”, rushed Steve’s voice. It sounded like it was from a public service phone, and the static didn’t let you hear Steve’s surroundings. Loki looked at the floor, concentrating. He didn't find anything either, and was too far away to read his mind.

“Wait. What do you mean you can’t find him? You were supposed to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t get kidnapped again”, you said, opening your laptop again and looking for Bucky’s location. He didn’t have it on him.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant with ‘it’s all gone to trash’”.

“Okay, don’t freak out. Where are you?”.

“Hydra’s last base, top of the buil…”.

“Hold up, I have another incoming call”. You put him on hold and see who’s calling. It was Bucky, this time. You sigh out of relief. Peter watched you two concerned while approaching you with two coffee cups. You gestured to him to not talk, and Loki had started to type things in your computer. “Buck, where are you? What happened?”.

On the other side of the line, you didn’t get a specific answer. You heard muffled noises that you still couldn’t quite figure out what they meant, and more than one person behind the phone.

“Buck, you there?”, you asked once again. Bucky’s voice filled the silence with a heartrending scream of agony. You almost dropped your phone, and your heart beated to the speed of light. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. They have him. “Buck!”.

“Three hours”, called someone, probably one of the Hydra butchers. “You have three hours”.

“Three hours for what?!”, you tried to hold them on the line while tracing the call. It was from a specific coordinate, nobody could get there unless they teleported. Luckily, you had the perfect person for the job. Loki looked at you quizzically.

"Do we not have better people on it? Can't Stark go?".

You returned to Steve’s call, while thinking about some other alternative than taking you three there (including Peter). “They have Bucky. Location’s very far away from where we all are, so you try to get out of there and go to Asgard with Thor; they’ll try to kidnap you too, and Hydra’s resources are global. No, don’t argue, you screw up, now you do exactly as I say”.

“Do you think they’re the same that hijacked the ship on the first part of the mission?”, asked Loki once you cut the call.

“They might. We have to go get him, there's no other way. The rest of the team comes back tomorrow and they can't leave”.

“No, I have to go”, said Loki. “But I’m supposed to stay with you two and make sure you’re not endangered, and I’m sure if I leave you here all alone, you’ll try to come by your own means”.

“Which means”, you added, “if you take us with you, you can make sure we don’t endanger ourselves”.

“This is a terrible idea”.

“But the only one so far”, you convinced him. “Pete, feeling like going on a dangerous mission?”.

“Hell yeah!”, he said eagerly. Loki was not very fond of his enthusiasm.

“I can do this”, you assured him. “Do you trust me?”.

“Yes”. He didn’t hesitate. “But I don’t trust them. You two will stay behind me facing the danger, alright? Nothing of wanting to play heroes”.

“Got it. Let’s suit up, fellas. Bucky’s waiting”.

#loki #loki x reader #loki of asgard #loki laufeyson #loki x gender neutral reader #loki fanfic #loki headcanon #loki fic #loki odinson #loki x y/n #mcu loki #loki series #loki and peter parker #loki (marvel) #the dark team #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #loki fandom #asgard #midgard #new asgard

[sleepysnk]

Team Player: Chapter Seven

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.8k

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The past four days had been slow for Eren and (Y/N). All the two have been doing is communicating ideas to help improve his teamwork, of course it was a lot of Eren disagreeing or saying it wouldn't work. (Y/N) assured him that it would help, and it would also give him some time for his ankle to heal. 

It wasn't the easiest convincing Eren of all people, sometimes he didn't want to listen, but (Y/N) would tell him in the end it'd be worth it and he shouldn't be complaining, because it gets him nowhere. 

Here they were, sitting in class talking about everything. 

"How else could I change it? There aren't many ideas!" Eren complained, shrugging his shoulders. 

(Y/N) sighed, rubbing her temples. "Look Eren, we'll figure it out soon. Just help me with this," she replied, scooching her chair closer to him. "Look this up for me please," she added, looking at the website she had jotted down. 

Eren sighed in annoyance and opened his laptop to the slideshow. Most of it was already done by (Y/N), because of their deal. It was itching at Eren at how much he wanted to change about it, all of it looked so fancy, and he just wanted to restart. 

"(Y/N), Eren, how is the project going?" Professor Ackerman asked, approaching their table. 

She rubbed the back of her neck. "Uh.. it's going well!" she replied, smiling nervously at her professor. 

His face remained stoic as he shrugged. "I hope it goes well, this is worth your grade. Keep up the good work," he replied, walking towards another table. 

(Y/N) sighed with relief as she turned towards Eren, who had a giant smirk on his face. 

"What?!" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. 

He chuckled a bit. "Oh nothin', you seemed so scared of Professor Ackerman over there. You looked like you were gonna fall over," he said, smirking again. 

(Y/N) felt heat grow onto her cheeks. "I wasn't scared! He's just a hard teacher to pass, that's all. God, shut up!" she said, rolling her eyes at him. 

Eren laughed again, smirking in the process. "Whatever you say princess," he replied in a teasing voice. 

She looked at him again with an annoyed expression. "Will you shut up with that nickname? It's so gross! Ugh," she said, turning her face away.

"Is that why your face is all heated up? I can tell, but nah I like that name for you. It's funny," he said, chuckling. 

(Y/N) gave him the middle finger, covering her face. "Can we just focus?" she asked, rolling her eyes. 

Eren leaned back in his chair. "Yeah fine… but we need to figure out ways to improve my 'teamwork' or whatever," he said, looking towards her. "We don't have much time until the championship game," he added.

(Y/N) furrowed her brows and turned towards him. "When is that game?" she asked, nodding her head. 

"I don't know, my coach never exactly knows those dates until we win the game," he replied, sitting up. "I'm certain it's soon so we have to get something done," he added. 

She nodded, looking at her phone. "How about tomorrow I come by your dorm, we can do this idea. It may work," she said, looking up at him. 

"At my dorm huh? (Y/N) I never took you as that type," Eren said, smirking. 

She smacked his head, causing him to almost fall out of his chair. "Can you not? I'm trying to explain, and I'm not talking about that stuff. Just wait until we hangout," she said, rolling her eyes. 

He rubbed the side of his head. "Okay fine! I was just messing with you," he said. 

She sighed. "God you're a pain in the ass," she said, looking back towards her laptop.

Eren crossed his arms. "Whatever you say (Y/N)," he replied, looking around the classroom. 

"Class is over! Be sure to finish your projects," Professor Ackerman yelled. 

Eren and (Y/N) stood up, exiting class together. "I'll see you tomorrow then?" she said, nodding her head. 

He smiled. "Yeah! Do you need my dorm number?" he asked, putting his hands in his pockets. 

She looked on her phone. "Yeah I actually do," she replied. 

Eren took his phone out, going to send her a message. "There ya go!" he said, looking down at her. "It isn't too far from yours," he added. 

(Y/N) looked down at his message. "Yeah, it's pretty close actually. I'll probably come by around 6 or 7, because that's when my classes end." she explained, putting her phone into her pocket. 

He nodded. "Sounds like a plan!" he said, going in the opposite direction. "See you tomorrow," he added, turning to walk away. 

(Y/N) smiled, shaking her head as he walked away. Who knew he could be such an idiot, but cute at the same time? She hated thinking Eren was attractive, but she couldn't exactly say he wasn't charming. His brunette hair tied up in a bun, his hands, his height, those piercing green eyes, the cologne he wore, and those broad shoulders. 

God, why was she thinking of him that way? It's Eren Jaeger. The asshole who ruined her reputation. 

(Y/N) pushed the thoughts out of her head, and made her way back to her dorm. She silently prayed that tomorrow would be a good day, and hopefully Eren doesn't act like an ass towards her. 

-

The next day seemed to fly by for the two, Eren didn't have practice so he had a bunch of free time to get ready for (Y/N) to come by his dorm. For some reason, he felt extra? He re-did his bed which was out of the ordinary, he took a shower, he even put on extra cologne. 

It was out of the ordinary for sure, Eren never usually got this ready for someone. He usually would just leave things the way they are, but it felt different. 

Weird how he got extra for (Y/N) out of all people, the two never got along before, and it surprised Armin when he mentioned it. Armin stated that he should be thankful for her help, and he should feel blessed that a person like her even agreed. Considering what happened three years ago. 

Eren was laying on his bed, the time on his phone reading 6:38 P.M. Eren remembered that her classes went a bit later, since she was a smart student. She was similar to Armin, having classes at weird hours of the day while others just did the usual morning to afternoon classes. 

His phone suddenly vibrated. He grabbed it, opening the message. 

(Y/N): hey um, are we meeting up? I just wanted to ask.

Eren: yeah we are, you can come by rn.

(Y/N): okay great! i'm on my way.

Eren sighed sitting up to fix his hair, he tied it into a messy bun, and sprayed some cologne on as he waited for her to arrive. His mind wandered to what ideas she had to fix his teamwork skills, was it the project? He didn't have any idea what she meant. 

A sudden knock came from the door. Eren stood up, making his way over and opening it to see (Y/N) standing there with her backpack. 

"Hey.. come in," he said, moving so could enter his dorm.

(Y/N) entered and looked around his dorm. "Nice dorm," she said, smiling a bit. "I'm going to finish the project first then we'll get onto my idea," she added, putting her backpack down. 

Eren shut the door and went to his side of the bed. "Alright.. sounds cool," he replied, crossing his legs on his bed. "Are you sure you don't need help?" he asked. 

She looked up from her laptop. "Yeah I'm fine.. just give me a few minutes," she replied, opening her folder and grabbing her paper. 

Eren looked at the slideshow as she edited it and added information. He watched the way her eyes squinted or the way she chewed her lip, Eren couldn't help but stare. She looked kind of.. cute.

"Eren! I need you to look at this really quick," she said, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

He shook his head, going to look at the slide she was at. He read through the information she put, he looked back up to see her eyes on his. 

"Does it look fine?" she asked, nodding her head. 

Eren leaned back against the wall. "Yeah! That looks fine, but are you sure you don't need any help?" he asked, raising a brow.

(Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest. "Do I need to remind you of the deal? Trust me Eren I got this, just sit back and let me finish this." she replied, looking back down at her laptop.

He sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Okay fine.." he mumbled, looking around the room.

Within a few minutes she finished the rest of the presentation, she felt satisfied with the project. Hopefully Eren wouldn't pull what he did freshmen year and fuck it over, that's why she decided to submit it as early as she could so no new changes could be made without the professor noticing. 

"Alright.. done!" she said, closing her laptop. 

Eren sat up and clicked his phone off. "So what now? What did you want to do?" he asked, nodding at her. 

She looked over at him. "So I know this sounds odd.. but it's a good way to help with your teamwork. Do you mind if we clean your dorm?" she asked, grabbing her backpack.

His brows furrowed. "Clean my room? How is that going to help me?" he asked. 

She sighed. "It involves teamwork if it's the two of us and there are a few ways it helps. It helps communicate, share ideas, and it can be useful," she replied. "Trust me, it was either this or we go find people to play football with." she added, taking out some trash bags. 

Eren looked at the stuff on his bed. "If you say so.." he mumbled and stood up. 

The two began to clean his side of the dorm, (Y/N) was a bit surprised seeing how his side wasn't actually that dirty, but it still needed a lot of work. Eren was tossing out some garbage that was under his bed, while (Y/N) sorted through his dresser and table. 

"You got ibuprofen as your pain killers?" she asked, holding the bottle. 

Eren looked over and nodded. "Yeah that's what the nurse gave me," he replied. 

She chuckled a bit. "No wonder you aren't healed, these are baby painkillers. You need some Tylenol," she said, putting the bottle back onto the dresser. 

Eren tossed the bag of garbage onto the floor, he tossed a few things off his nightstand and put them onto his bed. 

"Should I do my bed?" he asked, looking over at (Y/N).

She looked over at it. "Furniture first! Your bed should be last," she replied, turning back to his dresser. "Eren, can you give me the cleaner?" she asked.

Eren grabbed the cleaner and walked up behind her. She turned around and her breath hitched, she forgot how tall Eren had gotten. His breath slightly fanned over her face. 

"Here," he replied, going back to his nightstand. 

Her heart raced a bit. She turned back to his dresser and sprayed the lemon scented cleaner onto it, she wiped it up and tossed it into the garbage bag. 

(Y/N) began to place back some of the items on his dresser, she looked at the different football trophies he had or the photos of his family. She vaguely remembered the mention of a sister, Mikasa was it? She placed the frame back onto the dresser and turned towards Eren. 

He was on his phone watching something. 

She walked over and grabbed it. "Come on! Let's keep going," she said and put his phone on his dresser. 

He sighed in annoyance. "Why is this so hard?" he asked with a whine. 

She crossed her arms over her chest. "It isn't that hard Eren. You're just lazy right now," she replied. "Come on, let's do your bed." she added and walked towards the end of his bed. 

He stood up and threw the sheets off his bed. 

"Someone's aggressive," (Y/N) said, picking up his comforter. 

Eren rolled his eyes playfully. "I just wanna get this over with," he replied, walking to the other side of his bed. 

"Here.. tuck this in on your side," she said and flipped the sheet towards him. 

Eren grabbed the ends of the sheet, lifting the mattress a bit as he tucked the sheet under it. (Y/N) did the same. 

Within a few minutes his bed was made and his side of the dorm was clean. Eren was surprised at how clean it was, it hadn't been this clean since he first moved in three years ago. He felt a bit tired from all the cleaning. 

"Toss me my phone," (Y/N) said and walked towards Eren. 

He handed the cellphone to her, she opened her timer app and nodded. 

"What?" Eren asked and raised a brow. 

She smiled a bit. "I timed this whole thing.. we got it done in less than an hour," she replied, showing her phone to him. 

He raised his brows in surprise. "Damn.. it takes me usually about an hour or more," he said. 

(Y/N) giggled a bit. "See? That's what I was trying to teach you. Working with someone else can get things done quicker, and we did organize a lot of your stuff which shared ideas," she replied. 

Eren fully understood what she was trying to do now, it didn't seem so bad afterall. 

"That makes a lot of sense," he said, chuckling a bit. "But uh.. thank you for helping me with my room," he added and smiled at her. 

She couldn't help but admire his nice smile, his teeth were pearly white. "O-Oh! Yeah totally, it was no problem." she said, looking away as her cheeks heated up. 

They sat there for a while, staring at each other. 

"Uh.. I should get going. It's getting pretty late," (Y/N) said, breaking the silence between them. 

Eren blinked a bit. "Oh yeah totally.. um, do you want me to walk you back? It can be dangerous you know," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Yeah sure.. that'd be nice," she said and grabbed her backpack off the floor. 

The two stood up, Eren put his slides on and followed (Y/N) out the door. He exited the doors of his residence halls with her, she shivered a bit as the cooler air hit her skin. 

"Cold huh?" he asked, laughing a bit as he watched her attempt to warm herself. 

She smiled a bit. "Yeah.. I kind of miss summer," she replied and looked down at the ground. 

Eren nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I miss it too but I love fall, it's football season." he said and smiled at the thought of the sport. 

They got to the residence hall that she stayed in, Eren opened the door for her and watched as she made her way inside. Eren followed her down the hall to her dorm, he remembered her number like the back of his hand. 

She stopped as she got to the door. "Well I hoped helping you did something," she said, smiling a bit. 

Eren chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah it did in a way," he replied, staring down at her. 

They stared at each other again. Something inside Eren was tempting him to do something to her, not something bad, he was tempted to..

"Thanks for walking me back. It means a lot," she said, breaking Eren out of his thoughts.

He shook his head. "Uh yeah! No problem, I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, nodding his head. 

She smiled. "Yeah totally, be careful. Don't fall," she said, giggling a bit. 

He rolled his eyes playfully. "I haven't fallen yet, but thanks for the concern princess" he said, chuckling at her nickname. 

(Y/N) slapped his arm and opened her dorm door. "Shut up," she said and laughed. 

"Alright whatever, see ya" Eren said, waving at her.

"Goodnight," (Y/N) replied, shutting the door to her dorm.

Eren sighed as he left her residence hall, he was tempted. He was so tempted to just lean down and…

Nevermind. 

(Y/N) lied down on her bed, she couldn't get Eren out of her mind. Yeah it was normal to think of him usually, but this was different. She thought of him on a daily basis, she was kind of disappointed to see him leave her dorm. She wanted him to stay for some reason. 

Something in her wanted Eren around.

tagging: @ererokii @eremiie @callmepromise @katsuhera @moomii-hime @luvrboykento @flam3bird @thicmitten @simpforerensattacktitan @daughter-of-the-stars11 @mariardgzn @basket-flower-chick @just-a-little-sad @chayauwu @sofi-yeager @ryan249057 @bell0214 @lunamoonawatcher

#anime #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x y/n #aot x reader #aot imagines #aot fanfiction #snk x y/n #snk x reader #snk imagines #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #anime fanfic #team player

[sylvies-chen]

Sending in "Going to the grocery store/running mundane errands together" for Burzek. I think this would be cute when Kim is out of the hospital and still recovering.

“You should have stayed home.”

Adam doesn’t say it bitterly or harshly, just with a sympathetic glance. Somehow, to Kim, that’s worse.

It’s been a week since she was discharged from the hospital. She has another week to go before CPD can even consider clearing her for work. It’ll probably take a little longer, frankly, because of all the details surrounding her shooting. On top of healing physically, they’ll probably want Kim to go through a bazillion psychological evaluations to make sure she’s still mentally fit for duty. At that point, it’ll take forever to get back to normal.

She’s tried this whole taking it slow thing but man, it’s hard. Adam’s been looking after Makayla and picking up slack around her apartment which she’s eternally grateful for. She knows Makayla loves it, gets giddy whenever Adam’s around the house and clings to him almost as much as she does to Kim (which is all the time and puts pressure on Kim’s gunshot wounds but she stomachs it, because the last thing she’s going to do is refuse a hug from her daughter). It’s why Adam’s with her at the grocery store, because he’s been the one who does the driving and grocery shopping for them the past week. But Kim’s getting impatient now, eager and itching to get back to the way she was before. So she’d hobbled into the passenger seat and tuned out Adam’s comedic bitching the whole ride there.

So yeah. She knows he’s just worried and trying to help her, but that sympathetic tone he’s giving her right now is annoying as hell.

“These are my groceries, Adam,” she grumbles, leaning against the edge of the shopping kart and using it for support as she slowly pushes it along. “I’ve really appreciated your help this past week but I can do this on my own now.”

“Oh really? You’ve got superhuman healing now?”

She knows he’s being sarcastic but she plays it cool anyway. “Yeah, I do. I’m a regular Hulk.”

“Hulk has superhuman strength, dummy,” he replies amusedly.

“Whatever! The point is, I can get my own damn groceries.”

Adam looks at her, a little bit bewildered at how flustered she is and very unconvinced that she can actually do it, but shakes his head after a while and steps aside from the shelf he’s standing behind. “Ok, fine. I won't get in your way then. Grab the peanut butter.”

“I will.” She sticks her chin up, accepting the challenge and stepping past Adam. As soon as she reaches up for the peanut butter though, she hits a bit of a snag. The peanut butter is on the third shelf. When she reaches, her stomach muscles stretch and the burning soreness where two bullets used to be start hurting again.

Before she can even think to hide it, she retracts in pain and stabilizes herself on the handle of the kart.

“Ok, come on now,” he soothes her, his arms wrapping around her shoulders as he offers his other hand for support. “Easy, darlin'. Yeah, maybe this was not a good idea. I knew when you got in the car that this might not go so well.”

“I’m fine,” Kim insists. “Really, it’s just a little too high on the shelf, that’s all.”

“Clearly,” he replies sarcastically. “Just leave me in charge of the groceries for one more week, Kim. I don’t mind helping, really.”

“You really mean that?” She asks skeptically.

“I do. I mean, I get to see Makayla and get to buy her all the tooth-rotting cereal you wouldn’t normally let her get. That’s a win in my book if you ask me,” he tells her. "And you need someone to help you out or else you're going to try and do everything yourself and end back up in the hospital. You already gave me enough of a scare, Kim. So let me help."

It makes Kim’s heart swell with something subtle and quiet and strangely familiar.

She narrows her eyes at him, mulling it over quietly before sighing in defeat. “Ok, fine.”

“Thank you, that’s what I’m talking about,” he replies victoriously. “Alright, what’s next on the list?”

Kim pulls the piece of paper with their shopping list out of her pocket and reads off the items they haven’t already scratched out. “Grapes. But only—”

“—the green ones, I know,” he finishes for her. “Trust me, I got the whole ‘no purple grapes’ speech from Makayla the other day.”

He remembers. He remembers Makayla doesn’t eat purple grapes. And god, that shouldn’t make Kim fall completely in love with him all over again, should it? But it does because by some miracle, he remembers. He remembers things like the foods Makayla won’t eat and to remind Kim to change the gauze on her wounds just in case she forgets— even when she rarely does. It’s so... Adam. She loves him for it.

Kim smiles, fights back a giggle as Adam starts to head down the aisle. She pushes the kart along next to him, still using it as a support but leaning more to the side of the kart closest to Adam. He notices it, she thinks, because he just smiles at her wordlessly and continues to walk down the aisle. Eventually, she leans so far to the one side of the kart that it almost veers into the middle of the aisle but she quickly catches it. It doesn’t stop her from leaning again. Just like always, she’s drawn to him.

They reach the produce section eventually and he reaches for the grapes. They get a few other things on the list-- toothpaste, ibuprofen, baby carrots. At one point, they get acai berries for smoothies and Adam completely butchers the name, which makes her laugh so hard she thinks her stitches might pop. And every time they get something, Adam wordlessly reaches for her, grabs whatever it is they need off of the shelf it's on. Never teasing her, always smiling when she doesn't try and reach for it herself, lets her rely on him for this. Tiny little things like this are what remind her of how close she feels to him. And each time, it cheers her up just a little bit more. Her life feels so much better with him. It almost makes getting shot twice bearable.

They get to the checkout, and the cashier compliments them. "How long have you two been married for?"

Kim remembers blushing at that question, speechless to the point where Adam has to answer for them. "Six years," he replies, which surprises her even more than the fact that the cashier would assume they're married in the first place. She figures he just doesn't want to go through the hassle of explaining to her that no, they're not married-- that they used to date but now are just living together temporarily while she heals for a gunshot wound and raising the child they're both technically guardians for. Yeah, saying they're married is much simpler. But why six years? Because it would have been how long they've been married for if they'd gone through with the marriage when they first got engaged all those years ago?

The cashier gives her a smile as Kim puts her card in the machine and pays for the groceries. As always, it comes to a total that's painfully expensive for everyday items.

They leave after that, Kim hobbling as she pushes the kart and Adam walks next to her. They don't talk about what he told the cashier at all, instead strolling in complete silence. It's for the best, maybe.

"You did a good job pushing the kart," he compliments her, finally breaking the silence as he puts the groceries in her car. "It's not exactly chasing down perps but I think you'll be back to work in no time."

"Thanks," she replies, the word barely escaping her throat.

It scares her a little. Because for the first time since she got shot, she's stopped feeling a rush for things to return to normal. Having him here, having him show her the smallest bits of devotion she's always dreamed of, it's everything to her. She stiffly shift into the passenger seat of her car once the groceries are loaded and thinks if healing gives her more time with Adam then maybe taking her time to heal isn't the worst thing in the world.

#thank you for the request Lexi!! #I've been dying to write for Burzek so this was so fun #abby writes #burzek #kim burgess #adam ruzek #fanfic #fanfic prompts #prompt requests #cpd

[goobiegoobert]

Definitely wasn't a great self care day but I'm trying to make up for it this evening 🤚 been very busy and its been very cold, and I only got 3 hours of sleep, but now everythings done, took a nice bubble bath, some ibuprofen for my arthritis (cold makes it flare up, I'm only 18 I'm suing whoever decided it was funny to give me arthritis when I was 12) got my heated blanket going so after I finish dinner and eat for the first time today I can just read fluff fics and pass out LMAO

.

Hope your days been much calmer! You're amazing and it's good to hear you drank water!! Even if you don't get as much as you should making an effort to is an amazing start!!

Also!

Do you find me talking her spammy/annoying? And is it fine if I send tiktoks here? I'm always sending them to kandi but haven't asked if it's something you're fine with or if you'd prefer not? :) ❤️

-✨

God I feel you on that note, I've been in awful pain around my joints, like especially in an area where like four years ago I snapped my and muscle it sucks sm ass

But I hope it gets better!! Did you use scented bubbles or the scent less/bubblegum usual ones? I do want to encourage if you don't eat to have some snacks, I substitute my eating habits by having a bunch of Strawberry cereal bars to munch when I don't want to sit and eat anything huge

Thank you far too much for being so encouraging it's super sweet and I want to give you a ton of little forehead kisses!

Also spam away and keep talking! I love when you guys do it because whenever I'm bored I'll open up to those asks and watch said tiktoks so yes keep it up!!! Plus you're not annoying I can assure that to you :)

#📺 . talking with anons #✨ . anon #☎️ . self care reminders

[redstarwriting]

Period Pain

Avengers x Reader(s)

Request: "This is a specific request but could I have a story where the reader has their period (A bad one, heavy and painful) and the Avengers (Anyones you want) take care of them. Please make it extra fluffy.”

Word Count: 2,256

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: swearing, period, mention of Ibuprofen

A/N: I decided to do something different with this one, and I only did like a few of the Avengers to do it. Let me know if you’d like the rest with this or if you hate it and want me to stick to the usual paragraph format lol. Well, let me know, feedback is always welcome, and I hope you enjoy this kind of different way of writing!

───────────────────────────────────

Mother Nature must really hate you. You can’t move, your cramps are restricting you from functioning like a normal human being. The only time you got up today was to go to the bathroom to make sure you didn’t ruin your clothes and the sheets. You’ve been curled up in a ball for the past many hours, and even snapped at your significant other earlier. You feel bad deep down inside, but the pain you’re feeling overrides your remorse right now. You’re in the middle of your self loathing and hating being a female when in walks…

…Tony.

“Okay, so I have no idea what kind of pain you’re going through right now since I have a penis and I genuinely hope you don’t get the sudden urge to rip me apart limb from limb because I’m talking to you, but I talked to Wanda and I have your favorite sweets, a heating pad, some ibuprofen, and your favorite movie. Also, just to clarify, Wanda did not tell me what your favorite sweets and what your favorite movie was, I did that myself because I am a loving and caring boyfriend who will give you whatever you need any time you need it,” he rambles off, sitting all of the things he brought to you on your nightstand. You give him a small smile. “Thank you, Tony. I won’t rip you limb from limb now,” you tell him, and you hear him sigh in relief. “That’s good because I wouldn’t be able to give you cuddles and massages during your period if i were just a torso and head.” He walks over to the TV directly across from your bed, inserting the DVD he found into the player then walks over to the bed. He hands you the ibuprofen, along with a water bottle he brought for you. You gulp the medicine down and he plops himself down next to you. He wraps his arms around you, holding you and gently rubbing your arms. “You’re literally the best,” you tell him, and you hear his instant response of, “I know.” Since your back is turned to him, you don’t see his goofy little smile. Being called the best by anyone else has barely any effect on him, but being called the best by his baby? It made him smile until his cheeks hurt.

…Thor.

"Lady (Y/N) I have brought you a peace offering,” Thor announces, holding a bouquet. “A peace offering?” you question him, and he nods. “Yes, I made you so angry earlier that you screamed louder than I have ever heard you scream at me and then you immediately began sobbing afterwards and I do not know what is happening so I brought you your favorite flowers in hopes that it will make you feel better and be... less angry.” You begin chuckling at him, to which his brow furrows. “What is so funny?”

“Thor, I’m on my period,” you tell him and a look of realization spreads across his features. “Oh! Well, good! I thought I had done something wrong! What a relief!” he exclaims, and you can’t help but take that in the wrong way. Damn hormonal feelings. “...A relief?” He can tell immediately by the tony of your voice that this was in fact not a relief. “I did not mean that-”

“Go get me something to eat right now, and maybe I’ll consider forgiving you.”

“But I-”

“Now, Thor!” He turns to leave, but turns around and looks at you before running off. “I love you, (Y/N), and I am very sorry you are going through what you are going through at this very moment!”

…Steve.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“How do you think Steven?”

“…Bad?”

“Yes. Bad. Very, very bad,” you groan, a new wave of cramps washing over you. Steve frowns at this. He hates seeing you in pain. He walks over to you, sitting on the bed next to your curled up figure. “What can I do to help?” You look at his face, and almost audibly aw at how adorable he looks. The concern and care he has for you is written all over his perfect, super-soldier face. You just start smiling at him, and he tries his best to not look confused, but he fails, which actually does make you audibly aw. “Just stay here! Lemme hug you, I’ll feel better just knowing you’re with me,” you tell him, reaching your hands out to him and doing little grabby motions with your hands. He laughs a little because seeing you like this is certainly adorable. He can’t get over how snuggly you turned just by looking at him. It makes him feel really good, actually. “Whatever you say, (Y/N),” he says, laying down next to you. You immediately cling onto him, and he pulls you closer. He begins to softly scratch your back as your face is buried in his chest. He soon lulls you to sleep, and he doesn’t leave your side until you’re feeling better enough to actually do things.

…Bucky.

He walks in like, maybe an inch before awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “So um… I’m still a grandpa when it comes to technology, so… I asked Sam to google what to do to make someone feel better when they’re on their period and then he found out you were on your period and started making fun of me because I didn’t know how to help you and then everyone heard him laughing and asked what was happening and he told them and then everyone else started making fun of me and now I’m upset too so,” he pulls out two gigantic dark chocolate candy bars. “I managed to google it by myself, and found out that good dark chocolate can help fight cramps off. So I got two. One to make you feel better, the other to make up for the fact that the entirety of the Avengers knows you’re on your period.” You stare at him for a whole minute before bursting into laughter. He frowns, thinking he did something wrong, but you immediately help his nerves. “That is the funniest and cutest thing you’ve ever done, Barnes.” He raises his eyebrow at you. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I don’t care if everyone knows I’m on my period. If anything everyone should be afraid because I’m on my period. In fact, when my cramps are feeling better because of your little dark chocolate present, I’m going to go out there and beat their asses for making fun of you,” you tell him, and he smiles, looking at the ground. “Now, come over here and let me devour those chocolate bars. I’m hungry.”

…Sam.

“Still pissed at me?”

“Fuck you, birdbrain.”

“That is a yes.” You flip him off, and he sighs. “Look, I didn’t know you would get upset because I suggested we should go for a walk or something. I thought exercise was supposed to help when all this hormone shit is happening,” he explains, walking closer to you. “Sam, honey, have you seen me move from this position at all today?” Your voice is sickeningly sweet, and he mentally prepares himself for what you’re about to say. “No I-”

“Then how in the Hell do you expect me to not only stand, but go for a goddamn walk?! I’m dying Samuel! How can you not have any empathy?!”

He stares at you, pursing his lips and then clearing his throat. “Okay, okay, I see your point. Sleep also helps, exercise can wait.”

“Finally, you said something smart you Walmart brand Big Bird,” you grumble, pulling the covers over you. “Hey now, don’t act like you aren’t in love with your ‘Walmart brand Big Bird,’ because you know you are,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Yeah, I am. So how about he gets his ass over here and holds me so I can fall asleep faster.”

“Big Bird doesn’t have an ass, he has tail feathers.”

“I will end you.”

…Bruce.

“I’m not saying I know what you’re going through because I technically don’t know what you’re going through, but the anger thing I can kind of get, so I decided to bring you the things I know calm me down when I’m about to go green,” Bruce tells you, and you raise an eyebrow at him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, I brought you your favorite hot drink, but I also brought chamomile tea because that helps with cramps, and I brought your favorite teddy bear. Me,” he says, sitting the tea on the nightstand next to you, and sitting on the bed. You observe him for a moment before clearing your throat. “So um… that means I get to squeeze you as hard as I would please?” you ask and he grins, nodding. “Hell yes, get your smart little ass over here and lemme squeeze the pain away!” He chuckles at your excitement before lying down next to you. “Oh, hey Bruce?”

“Yes, honey?”

“This is so sweet that I’m about to start crying. It’s normal. Don’t worry.” With that, you burst into tears. Bruce, being a good boyfriend, comforts you and let’s you squeeze him like a giant teddy bear whenever you need it. Which is genuinely every five minutes. He kept track. But hey, he isn’t complaining.

…Nat.

“I brought a mini punching bag!” she says, all smiles and you laugh a little. However, the laugh sends an entire new wave of cramps to wash over your body, and you groan instead. “Damnit, Nat, don’t make me laugh! It hurts!” you semi-scold her and she pushes her lower lip out as far is it will go, making a “sad” face. “Awww is my poor baby having bad cramps?”

“Yes, she is, and if you aren’t careful I’ll beat you up,” you glare at her and she puts her hands up in surrender. She knows you’re not kidding, so she decides to just go over to you. “May I sit down little miss grumpy?”

“You may.” She sits next to you, stroking your hair and tucking a stray piece behind your ear. “Do you have your heating pad?”

“No.”

“What? I thought that helped you,” she frowns for real this time, and you sigh. “It does help me, but Sam wanted to use it because he was ‘so cold, (Y/N), please1’ a few days ago and he never gave it back.”

“Interesting,” Nat says, immediately getting up. “Hey now, what are you doing? I like you being here it makes me feel better don’t leeeaaave,” you pout and she smiles at you, bending over to kiss your forehead. “I’ll be right back, baby. I’m just gonna go kick Sam’s ass and get your heating pad. Then you’ll feel double better.”

“God, I love you.”

…Clint

He tosses you a bottle of Ibuprofen. “I went to the store and got you medicine to make your uterus stop being a bitch, I hope it helps,” he says, about to leave again when you groan. “Cliiiiint, where are you going?”

“…Me?” he asks, pointing at himself and you roll your eyes. “Would you like me to use the other name I call you by?” you ask him with a growl and he makes a face indicating he’s ‘thinking about it.’

“Depends on which one it-“

“Don’t fucking leave you fucking dumbass.”

“oh, so it’s that one,” he says and you sigh loudly. “I want warmth,” you whine and he chuckles. “Well, sweetheart, I will be right back, I’m actually going to get you some soup so you eat something today.” He tosses you a bottle of water. “Now, take those Ibuprofen and when I get back you might actually have an appetite. That way you’re nourished and I won’t have to worry and I’ll also be with you and hopefully the pain of your organ rejecting itself won’t be as horrible!” With that, he leaves and you just slowly blink in the direction he was just standing. “‘Hopefully the pain of your organ rejecting itself won’t be as horrible!’” you mock, slowly sitting up to take the medicine he got you. It did help, along with the soup and snuggles you got from him when he got back.

…Wanda

“I hate you,” she groans, stumbling over to your bed and plopping down next to you. “Excuse me? I hate you!” you say back and she punches your arm. “Ow,” you mumble and she pulls herself next to you, shooting a glance your way. “How did we end up syncing like this? This is awful,” she wonders out-loud and you grunt. “God, I wish I knew. I mean, I guess at least we’re in pain together?” you suggest and she shrugs. “I guess so. I would just prefer to not be in pain at all, though.”

“Same here, same here,” you say, reaching out and grabbing her hand. “So, what pissed you off today?”

“Well your stupid brother laughed at me earlier because he knows we both wind up bleeding at the same time every month now and I swear, Wanda, I would have murdered him if he didn’t have his super speediness,” you say, causing her to smile. “Yeah, he’s pissing me off too.” You two lay there in painful silence for a moment before you grin, a plan coming to your mind. “Wanda, my love?”

“Yes, (Y/N) my sweet?”

“Let’s teach him a lesson.”

“I couldn’t be more on board.”

#avengers x reader #tony stark x reader #iron man x reader #thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #sam wilson x reader #falcon x reader #bruce banner x reader #hulk x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #clint barton x reader #hawkeye x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #avengers imagine #tony stark imagine #iron man imagine #thor imagine #thor odinson imagine #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier imagine

[hockeyforthefirsttime]

That Someone- Roope Hintz

AN: yeah, idk man. This took far too long to write, esp with thought of quality that isn’t there. HOWEVER, I can’t stare at it any longer so here ya go.

Word Count: 2,5k

TW: alcohol, slight angst, general pining

Roope has never been an easy person to understand. One moment he is your best friend, and other times he’s one of the star players of the Dallas Stars. And the two roles, they shouldn’t be all that conflicting, but apparently they are, and you don’t know how to change that. 

“Roope, can you please for one second listen to me?” 

You speak up in between giggles as he is curled up in your lap. 

“No.” 

He mumbles into your stomach, the vibration of his voice against your stomach making you chuckle. 

“You promised. The deal is that you make dinner every other time.”

“But m’tired.” 

His protest makes you card a hand through his hair, which you know is a bad idea. It only makes you feel like your best friend is something more, to you. 

“Please just make dinner Roope.” 

You sigh. And with a grunt he actually gets up and moves to the kitchen while rubbing his eyes in a childlike manner. 

You twist around on your couch and grab your phone from the coffee table. 

People always scrunch their noses when they see that your lockscreen is just black. Most people call you boring for it, most of all Tyler Seguin, the Star that you feel closest to, if you don’t count Roope. 

You don’t care though, because you don’t want to have anything there. (If you were to have anything there it’d be Roope though). And that about sums up how far into the deep end you are. You have a creeping suspicion that this is what Tyler knows, and that’s why he keeps teasing you about your black lock screen. 

Shaking your head, you turn on some soft music on the TV speaker and wander into the kitchen. 

Roope has a towel hanging over his shoulder and is quietly humming along to your music.

“You really only know how to make pasta?” 

He turns at the sound of your voice. 

“It’s damn good pasta and you know it.” 

He teases with a smirk. You have told him on multiple occasions just how good his pasta is. 

“Maybe so.” 

“It’s finished soon, Miss Denial, will you set the table please?” 

Roope asks as he turns back to the carbonara he has been making. 

It’s the domestic, small things like this that make you fall even further. He just doesn’t realise. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the only person you have admitted your feelings to is you. Because when other people ask about Roope, he’s always just your best friend. As jokingly as he does it, calling you Miss Denial rings more true than he thinks it does. 

------

As one of the Star players of the Dallas Stars, Roope acts a little bit different. He brings you out after a big win, he does, but you never go together. There is always some excuse, mostly that he thinks you will have more fun getting ready with the WAGs. Because of that it’s just easier if you carpool with them. Or take your own car. For better or worse, because that means you have to stay sober for the entire night. 

And even if you think every night is gonna be different, it never really is. Tonight is apparently no excuse. 

They have just won over the Islanders on home ice and are the usual suspects en route to the regular club. Roope had the winning goal and was over the moon when he got out of the locker room and media.

You had dressed in an emerald knit sweater, not being able to put on the jersey Roope had given you. You had tried to put it on, you really had, but feeling the weight of having “Hintz” on your back was just too much for you. Especially when you know that it’s all you’ll ever get. 

You’re all sitting together around two tables, doing shots and nursing different drinks. Roope is beside you on the outer end of the table. Tyler is on your right, for once having sworn he isn’t gonna get completely wasted. 

You’re all laughing at Miro as he downs another shot of something he supposedly likes, you can tell he’s close to the limit now. However you aren’t too scared, you’re his ride home anyways. 

Roope’s arm is resting behind your head and as the time starts nearing one am, even with the flashing eyes and loud music, you’re starting to feel drowsy. You lean into his chest and rest there, unknowingly making the whole table swoon.

“Hey, I’m gonna go get another water.” 

Roope’s eyes are slightly glassy as you look at him. Carefully he moves out of his seat to allow you to move.

“Want anything?” 

“Just a beer please.” 

Roope mumbles softly and you nod. 

The queue to the bar is longer than expected, and ten minutes have passed when you walk from there. 

You’ve almost reached your table when you notice an absence. It makes you stop and causes someone to bump into you, making you spill half the glass of water. You know they’re gone before you can register who it is. 

Sighing, you make your way over to the table and the vacant spot. 

“Hey, anyone know where Roope went?” 

The group around the table is more reduced now than you first realised. Apparently also feeling very pitiful, ‘cause no one wants to answer the question. Until Tyler does. 

“Uhh, some chick came up asking for a dance.” 

Miro stumbles to your side, positively hammered, and folds his frame over yours. 

“Roope s’stupid.” 

He slurs against the top of your head.

“Stop Miro.” 

You sigh. 

“But s true.” 

“Please not now, here drink this.” 

You say and hand him the half empty glass of untouched water.

“I think I’m gonna try to get this mafioso home for the night.” 

The remaining team members and their significant others all nod understandingly. And since you can’t see Roope, you start to hug people goodbye. 

“Don’t worry, he’ll come to his senses sooner or later.” 

Tyler whispers into your ear as he hugs you, giving you an extra squeeze. 

You set the still full glass of beer down by Roope’s spot, and take Miro’s arm so you can lead him out of the club. 

“C’mon, let’s get you and me home.” 

“Okay, I feel a little dizzy.” 

Only a few minutes later, after you and Miro have departed, Roope comes back to the table still fixing his cap and wiping lipgloss off his lips. Immediately he spots the glass of beer and takes a big swig of it. It’s not until he finishes swallowing that he notices the eyes on him, all except one pair. 

“Where did Y/N go?” 

He questions.

“So you finally notice, huh.”

Tyler mumbles, yet somehow Roope catches it. Making him frown at his teammate. 

“She went home, took Miro back to his place as well.” 

Jamie’s date of the night replies. Roope looks towards the exit, but sees no sign of you or his teammate. 

----

In all honesty, when you got the first message from Roope, asking why you left, your heart couldn’t take it. So you just shut off your phone and went to bed. And thank god for Sundays, cause you sleep until 11am that morning. It’s not good sleep, and you still feel tired when you drag yourself to the bathroom, and sad. The person in the mirror doesn’t quite look like you, she is much more bleak, faded. 

Regardless, you step into the shower and try to wake yourself up. Even though you don’t have anything to do, you still want to wash last night off your body. The soft almost non exiting pressure stream of water doesn’t help much, only adding to your frustrations. So you step out and dry off, before going back to your bedroom. You dress in a pair of old sweats that hang off your hips ever so slightly and a henley sweater you find in the back of your closet. 

Your phone is still on the kitchen bench when you walk in, and you decide to power it on again. As soon as you punch in the pin code, it’s overflowing with messages from Roope. And the general gist is worry and confusion. When you click on his contact, and see the messages and the times they were sent, it’s your turn to get worried. They go from tree am to ten minutes ago. 

Me: Roope, you need sleep

You type before you can think twice, and send the message. Almost instantly there is a new message, but this time only the one. 

Roope: I’m on my way over. 

And you swear you are frozen in time, cause minutes go by and you don’t notice, only staring at the screen.  A knock on your door shakes you from your stupor, and automatically you go to open it.

Roope looks rough, to put it mildly. He is still in the same clothes as last night, his blond hair is messy even hidden underneath his cap, and his eyes are red and droopy. 

“You need to sleep, Roope.” 

“No, I need you.” 

 You sigh and open the door a little further, motioning for him to come in. 

“Roope, please. You have to sleep.” 

It feels like there is little else to say. You don’t want to have this conversation with him now, when he might not remember it in the morning. Much less when you are on the verge of crying yourself. 

“Please, ‘jus wanna talk.” 

And he sounds so so sad, when he talks. You never could resist a sad Roope, there is something in the way his eyes plead with you. So you close the door and turn towards him, and are met with that exact look. 

“Okay, just go sit on the couch.” 

You sigh, watching as he stumbles over to the couch. The trip to the kitchen seems far too long, but when you make it you pull out a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. It isn’t until you shut off the running water, that you hear the soft snores coming from the living room. 

Walking into the living room, you see Roope completely collapsed in what has to be an uncomfortable position. At that moment you decide to let him sleep it off. Even if he doesn’t end up remembering this moment when he wakes up.  You set the glass of water on the coffee table along with the ibuprofen, and decide to go about your day in other ways. 

Like getting your laptop and sitting down by the tiny kitchen table you have, to attempt some work. In reality you end up editing some playlists on your Spotify and getting consumed by it. The next time you look at the clock on the stove, it shows 3pm. And you figure you’ve wasted enough hours on the internet. 

Quietly you close your laptop and take off your headset. When you walk into the living room,  Roope seems to have realized how uncomfortable he was and has curled up into a ball. Crouching down in front of the couch 

“Hey, you need to wake up.” 

He groans, but you can tell he is starting to wake up from the way his brows scrunch together. Reaching out, you place a hand on his upper arm and shake him a little. Slowly but surely, his eyes flutter open, meeting your gaze. The whites in his eyes are still a little red, but he seems a little clearer now. 

“Morning”

Roope mumbles, while getting up. He swings his legs over the edge and his upper body follows. You can’t help but let out a little chuckle while shaking your head at him. He leans his elbows on his knees, and lets his head drop into his hands. 

“Here, drink some water.” 

You hand him the glass from the table and go to shake out two pills from the bottle. 

“No no, I’m fine without.” 

He says after taking three generous gulps of water from the full glass. 

“It will help with the pain.”

You tell him, holding your hand out towards his. 

“Why?” 

He asks, and you answer absentmindedly. 

“Because there are chemicals in this that will help you relax.” 

Roope shakes his head at you and sighs. 

“No, I mean, why are you always so kind to me? Why do you care so much?” 

You feel your heart sting and sink to your stomach. 

“Do you not want me to?” 

The fact that you are getting defensive about this should tell him enough. But he only seems to get more fired up. 

“Don’t answer a question with another question.”

And you swear, time stops for a second, giving you time to think a few thoughts. First, that you should never have let him stay. Second, that there are a million better ways to do this. And third of all; fuck it. 

“Because I want to be someone to you.”

He frowns at that, trying to take a step towards you, only to discover that you’ve moved to the other side of the coffee table. 

“Of course you are someone to me, you’re my best friend.”

Roope even cocks his head to the side in confusion. 

“I want to be that someone to you. Not just your best friend. I want you to hold me in public, I want you to take me out on the dance floor when we go out, and I want you to not rush home after a night in. I want to be able to put on your jersey and not feel like an imposter. I think I want more than you’re willing to give. And that’s fine. I’ll get over it.” 

You don’t realize you have moved through the apartment, and you don’t realize that Roope has followed you. You do know though, because you can see his reflection behind you in the window.

“All of me, if you’re willing. I’ll give you all of me, because you’re not just my best friend, you’re the friend I call whether I’m happy or sad. When I’m having a crisis or don’t feel well I think of you, or come here. I just didn’t think you’d want all of the public stuff, cause I know you’re a private person.” 

He has been moving closer and closer, now you can feel him behind you, across the entire plane of your back. In the reflection, his head is a little bent and his breath is fanning across your neck. 

“All of me, is what I can give you.” 

Roope whispers, sending tickles down your spine. 

“Are you sure?” 

You close your eyes as you lean into his chest, feeling him wrap his arms around your front. 

“Never more sure of anything.” 

The confirmation makes everything fall into its rightful place inside you, so you lift a hand to the back of his neck, which causes him to lean down and place a soft kiss on your lips. 

#roope hintz #roope hintz imagine #dallas stars #nhl #nhl imagine #roope hintz angst #roope hintz fluff #roope hintz fic #roope hintz blurb #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars fluff #Dallas Stars angst #Dallas Stars Blurb #nhl blurb #nhl fic #nhl angst

[tomhollandstrash]

You Broke Me First

Fratboy! Tom x Reader 

Hi y’all! Here’s one of my first pieces of writing that I’m posting. Honestly, I love to read angsty things, so I thought I’d try my hand at it! This one hurt to write, so I hope y’all enjoy. Let me know what you think and if you have any requests, please feel free to send them in :’)

This one is kind of open ended, so I’d definitely be willing to write a second part if that’s something people are interested in!

xx, 

Karissa 

Warnings: some cursing, big boy angsty times ahead

Word count: 1.3k words

p.s. listen to ‘you broke me first’ by tate mcrae while you read this. i was listening to it the whole time i was writing haha. 

--

You sighed and looked at the ceiling. The sound of your phone vibrating next to your pillow pulled you out of your thoughts. You sighed when you saw who was calling. Begrudgingly, you picked up the phone. 

“Hi Tom,” You sighed into the phone, putting your palm against your forehead. 

“Hey, darlin’,” Tom greeted you. 

You and Tom had met during your first year of university. You were running back to your dorm when you ran into Tom, nearly avoiding sending both of you to the ground. Breathless apologies turned into coffee, which turned into spending all your free time together, which turned into sweet kisses and gentle ‘I love you’s. 

Unfortunately, these days those moments feel like distant memories. You can’t remember the last time Tom told you he loved you and it felt like he meant it. It felt like even longer since the two of you spent any actual time together. 

“What do you want, Tom?” You grumbled, sitting up in your bed. 

He drew in a breath, letting out a slight chuckle when he exhaled. 

“I’m hungover, can you come over?” He asked with a small groan.

“Tom, really? Again? It’s a Tuesday morning,” You sighed. 

“Please? I’ll never ask you for anything ever again,” Tom whined into the phone. “Besides, I missed you last night and I want to see you,” 

You really did consider hanging up and going back to bed, but damn Tom Holland and his missing you. You couldn’t say no to him no matter how much you wished you could. 

“Fine, I’ll see you in 20,”

--

As Tom became more involved in Greek life, he started relying on you for more and more. Slowly but surely he was becoming a version of him you weren’t sure you liked. Sure you still loved him and cared deeply for him, but being expected to always be there for him with no reciprocation was exhausting. If he wasn’t calling you to help him nurse his hangover from last night’s party, he was calling you to help him with something else. All you ever got in return was a “Thanks, love” with a boyish smile. And while those boyish smiles used to fill your tummy with butterflies, they were now wearing down on your heart little by little. 

You stood in front of Tom’s bedroom door, debating whether or not you still wanted to address how you were feeling. He was hungover, maybe it wasn’t the best time. Maybe you should wait until he felt better. You shook your head and knocked on the door. If you didn’t do it then, you weren’t sure you’d ever do it. You’ve been putting his needs before your own for far too long. 

“I brought you ibuprofen, some tea, and a chocolate chip brioche bun,” You gave him a tight lipped smile and placed the items on his bed side table, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Rough night?” 

“You could say that,” Tom propped himself up on his elbow and gave your arm a gentle squeeze, giving you a sleepy smile. 

You nodded your head, avoiding his eyes. An awkward silence that only you seemed to notice settled over the room. Not even a simple “thank you” this time. You smiled bitterly to yourself. Tom picked up his phone and began scrolling through its contents, reaching over to sip his tea. You bit your lip and took a deep breath. Despite being unbelievably frustrated by Tom, you still had a soft spot for him. The first six months of your relationship were everything you could have ever wanted. 

The two of you used to be practically attached at the hip. He would always meet you after your classes ended for the day and the two of you would explore the city. Whether you just decided to take a walk together or grab dinner, it was always time well spent enjoying each other’s company. Every day was filled with affectionate touches, sweet glances, and breathtaking kisses. Now you were lucky if you could get a simple call or a text when he didn’t need something from you.

“Tommy?” You asked, playing with the corner of his blanket. 

“Hmm?” He hummed, still looking at his phone. 

“Can we talk?” You looked over to him, frowning when you realized he was paying more attention to the device in his hands than you. 

“Sure,” Tom said, reluctantly putting his phone down. “What did you want to talk about?” 

“There’s no easy way to say this, but I,” You paused, trying to find the words to express what you were feeling. 

Tom sat straight up, suddenly extremely alert and forgetting about his raging hangover. 

“What’s on your mind, y/n?” He asked, heart dropping into his stomach. 

Tom didn’t know what it was you wanted to talk about, but he knew it couldn’t be good. He silently hoped that you weren’t thinking about leaving him. He was still deeply in love with you, he needed you.

“It’s just... these past few weeks...” You trailed off, playing with your fingers. “It feels like we barely see each other, and- I’m sorry, I just don’t know if I can keep doing this,” 

You stood up and walked toward the door, tears threatening to spill, looking back at Tom to see his reaction. His fingers carded through his messy brown hair as he got up and cautiously stepped closer to you, grabbing the hand that was hanging limply by your side.  

“You don’t want me anymore?” He asked so quietly that it was almost inaudible, lower lip trembling slightly as he gently ran his thumb over your knuckles. “You know how I feel about you,”

God, you hated seeing him like this. On the verge of tears and holding your hand like you would disappear at any moment. It broke your heart even more. This was the first time in weeks you’d heard him say anything to you that felt even remotely sincere. You bit your lip and avoided his eye contact. 

“Do I? Tom, I want you more than anyone, but I can’t deal with this anymore. It seems like you only want me when you need something. It’s always ‘I need this’ or ‘help me with that’- and while I don’t mind helping you, I just feel like you don’t care when I’m here. Do you even care that I’m here right now?” You looked at him, eyes glistening with tears. “It’s just that when you tell me you love me, I don’t know if I believe you anymore. We never talk anymore, and you only ever reach out if you need something from me,” 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

Tom blinked, at a loss for words. Was he really treating you that badly? Sure, he’d been spending more time around his friends and working on frat stuff, but he thought he was making time for you. Maybe you weren’t spending as much time together as you used to but both of you were so busy. At least, that’s what he always told himself. Come to think of it, he didn’t really know what you were up to these days, because he never really bothered to ask. 

He fell to his knees as he realized how much he fucked everything up, wrapping his arms around your legs tightly, and burying his face into your side. If he would have reached out to you, made you feel more loved- if he had just been better, maybe he wouldn’t have found himself in this situation. He hated realizing that he was hurting you. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” Tom whimpered, his tears making your shirt damp. 

You opened and closed your mouth in shock, tentatively putting your hand on top of his head and gently playing with his hair. The two of you stood like that for what seemed like hours with Tom whispering apologies into your side. 

As his sniffles started to subside, he slowly stood back up and looked at you. 

“So, where do we go from here?” 

#tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #tom holland reader insert #tom holland and reader #avengers imagine #avengers x reader

[curious-menace]

So iv got yet another headache 🙃

Wonder what the rogues would be like when they aren't feeling too peachy? What do the rogues do when they have a headache?

Penguin

Penguin very rarely gets headaches, he's lucky that way. That tophat of his protects him from the sun, he gets regular massages so he never gets tension headaches and he never drinks enough to be hungover. On the rare occasion he does have one it's usually very mild, even if he's got some other ailment like the flu. He's got the luxury of being able to go to bed with an icepack and some hot whiskey to help him sleep it off.

Twoface

Poor Harvey. Suffers from chronic tension headaches, high blood pressure headaches and even the occasional migraine. DID can cause some pretty severe headaches on it's own and that's even before you take into account all the stress he's under. Still, they both hide it well, two face is definitely more dramatic about it though. He rolls around on his bed in pain where Harvey just preferred everything to be quite and still. They usually just tough it out, but they have specific meds for when it gets really bad. If he's out of Arkham /no access to tablets he has a terrible habit of self medicating with whatever he can get his hands on. Might help for a little while but the rebound will be so much worse.

Ivy

Another one who rarely gets headaches. The only thing that can hurt her is lack of water/dehydration. Generally she has a liter bottle with her wherever she goes but she has been known to absorb rain through her skin in desperation. She can grow herbal remedies in seconds , so she doesn't really needs Tylenol or anything. She has a little pot of tiger balm white in her pocket for if she's being discreet with her plant powers .

Riddler

Another chronic headache sufferer. But frankly, most of its his own fault. He forgets to eat and drink regularly and his posture at his scheming chair is absolutely atrocious. Don't even get me started on his habit of staring at the screen for hours on end. No wonder he has such bad eye strain.The majority of his pain could be avoided by keeping a waterbottle at his desk and sitting up better. He flat out refuses to take tablets unless he is actually dying. Then and only then will he take 1 ibuprofen and a quick nap until it kicks in.

Scarecrow

His headaches are few and far between but when they hit him, they put him down for the day. He gets sick in stages, trying to convince himself he's fine and can keep working. Chugging a handful of painkillers with a mouthful of whiskey was a bad idea as an undergrad but now as an actual adult it's like trying to put out a house fire with a water pistol. He has blacked out from the pain several times over the years, usually waking up with Harley or one of the other rogues fussing over him and telling him to go to the hospital.he never does and he never will but he appreciates the concern. It'll usually take a few days for the pain to go away but Jon can usually be found back in his lab after one, powering through it for the sake of his work. Frankly it wouldn't take so long to feel better if he wasn't breathing in all those fumes.

Harley

She gets the odd headache. Some from stress, some from hangovers. She's young she can usually just sleep it off or drink some water and be fine 20 minutes later. the worst headaches she gets are hairdo headaches. Having gymnastic updos and her hair in those pigtails all damn day makes her hair hurt. She really likes head and scalp massages and if she's feeling especially headachy she might want someone to play with her hair or rub her back. Basically comforting touch is like morphine for her.

Lmao I had to stop writing this half way through bc my headache got too severe. I wish I could be like penguin and just not get headaches 🙃

Got a question for me? Send me an ask or a DM or HMU with some of your own Headcanons

#edward nygma #riddler #edward nigma #jonathan crane #the riddler #batman #rogues #rogues headcanons #Harley Quinn #harleen quinzel #twoface #two face #harvey dent #penguin #the penguin #oswasld cobblepot #poison ivy #Pamela lilian isley #pamela isley #headcanons #my stuff

[jedimasterkelly]

Shit happens when you're a woman. A lot of shit. Bad shit. And a lot of the time, you will run into doctors who do not listen to you. Will not care about you, and will not take you seriously.

This story is about the Great Cancer Scare of 2020.

I was 49, and 3 yrs post menopause. I was pleased about that, as it means no more period ever. I could deal with the occasional hot flashes, and the snapping of necks of anyone who dared bother me. Then in May of 2020, after the pandemic fully hit and the University I work at closed and sent all of us to work from home, I got very sick. Not from Covid, thankfully, but something else. I had started bleeding, and it wasn't menstrual blood. It was bright red and HEAVY. I was filling post-natal pads within 2 hours. I called the Women's Clinic where my OB-GYN lived. They couldn't see me until July. WTF! I called my GP, who got me in on an emergency basis, I mean, 3 yrs post-menopausal women don't just spring a leak, you know? My ovarian function had been almost nil for 3 years. He called my OB-GYN and demanded I get seen right away. They made an appointment for 2 weeks later. Keep reading, because it's quite a ride!

Seriously! 2 weeks later!

In the meantime, my GP discovered my thyroid was tanked out, so I was put on Levothyroxine 25mcg. It helped a lot. I started to feel a little bit more human, at least in the brain area. I finally got in to the OB-GYN, and he did a biopsy and trans-vaginal ultrasound. We got the results 2 weeks later and he called me in to go over them. He said I had hyperplasia with atypia. Cells were dividing rapidly, and he was very concerned. He recommended an endometrial ablation, or a full hysterectomy. At 49 he wasn't concerned with me having a sudden maternal urge (I have no kids), so he was fine with either choice. I decided on the hysterectomy, because why not? Endometrium grows back after an ablation, and why bother at my age? Just yank it all and let me get back to my life.

He said he didn't feel safe doing the procedure, since the cells were most likely cancerous and rapidly dividing, so he sent a referral to one of the cancer centers in OKC. I expected a call within a couple of weeks. I mean, really, if I have the early stages of endometrial cancer, they'd call me in immediately, right? Right?

Crickets. Literal crickets for 4 months! I was very concerned, hell, worried I was going to get full blown cancer and these jackasses weren't going to try and help me at all. I called OB-GYN several times during that 4 month period, and was told the cancer center in OKC wasn't returning their calls. I called them numerous times, and could never get a person on the phone.

I was told it was the pandemic. The pandemic was shutting everything down and causing huge backlogs for non-Covid issues to be seen. I told OB-GYN to refer me to the oncologist from Tulsa, who also worked once a month in Stillwater at the SMC Cancer Center. He didn't want to, he wanted me to see the doctor in OKC (who wasn't returning anyone's calls!) I called SMC Cancer Center and asked how soon I could get in with Dr. Thomas. His office called back within 2 hours asking for my chart and biopsy results. I had the Womens Clinic send my information to Dr. Thomas in Tulsa. Within a week, they called and had me on the schedule to see him in Stillwater on his next visit.

This is where the story gets good. And by good, I mean, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. Thanks for sticking with me this far.

Got in to see Dr. Thomas. I researched him and learned we have the same Alma Mater. That day, we were both wearing t-shirts from said same Alma Mater. Instant bonding! I also work in Administration at said same Alma Mater, so we spent some time discussing (gossiping) about my department since he had taken classes with a lot of my faculty during his undergrad. Then he got serious and handed me my biopsy report. He told me he was going to assume I wasn't shown this, since I am:

1. A Master's of Science graduate student in Education Leadership - this making me a researcher who knows how to do research, do research, and understand research.

2. Work full time in a Physical Sciences department at a Big 12 University.

3. Edit manuscripts for my Dept. Chair, thus proving I am scientifically literate. You can't edit scientific manuscripts without having a good, solid knowledge of said science. If he's alternating between "adsorb" and "absorb", I have to understand his research in order to correct his manuscript. This is important because his manuscripts have to be peer reviewed before they can be published in a reputable journal.

"Read it to me, out loud," he said.

I started reading from the paper in my professional scientist voice. It didn't take long before I began to falter as I came to the realization I had been lied to.

"Read it again," he said.

This time, I read it with a lot more heat in my voice.

Diagnosis: no hyperplasia with atypia, no abnormal cells detected

Dr. Thomas waited for me to explode. I didn't. I just stared at him in anger and horror. He offered to do another biopsy to make sure, but he suggested I fire my OB-GYN immediately and find someone who actually gives a shit about me.

I was still randomly bleeding, 6-9 weeks at a time, so we agreed on another trans-vaginal ultrasound and biopsy. The attached photo shows he took 3 samples from my uterus. He wanted to be sure.

A little ditty about endometrial biopsies:

They hurt like a motherfucker.

Take 2-3 ibuprofen before you leave the house to go to your procedure.

Relax. It usually only lasts a couple of minutes. The doctor normally takes 1 or 2 samples. Pinch, snip, clip, done.

Not this guy. He wanted to be surely sure.

He went for a 3rd pinch snip clip. My uterus seized up in the most painful spasm I ever had in my life. I almost came off the table. He was seated on a little rolly stool so he shot back away from me before I could connect his head to my foot. He triumphantly held up his little weapon of Uterine Destruction and declared, "Got it!"

"Yeah, you almost got your ass kicked mister," I growled at him.

"It was worth it to get this beauty of a sample."

So, after a biopsy of your uterus, expect some bleeding and cramping. I had severe cramps for 2 days. I was not amused. We're talking laying in bed with a heating pad and ibuprofen every 4 hours kind of cramping.

Got the results back in a couple of weeks. No cancer. No hyperplasia. No abnormal cell growth. He recommended I find a new OB-GYN fast. I decided fuck it, I'm done. I'm never seeing another OB-GYN ever again.

Dr. Thomas said several times he's convinced my issues are endocrinal. I filed that away in the back of my mind.

(if you ever do test positive for cancer and you are in the Tulsa area, I highly recommend Dr. Eric Thomas! Make sure you have a sense of humor with him.)

My GP started pressuring me back in March of 2021 to find a new OB-GYN. The Women's Clinic has several, but they have a fucked up rule you can't switch doctors there. So if you go there, you are stuck with the same doctor and can't move over to his colleague on another floor. I saw my GP again, and asked if he was still best buds with a gynecologist who had his own clinic. He was always full, and not taking new patients, so GP would have to call his buddy to get me in.

Which he did. Buddy-GYN's office called the very next day to schedule me in. He had been sent my chart and was concerned about the long bleeds (6-9 weeks in duration) and why the fuck were they happening after being 3 yrs post-menopause.

I went in for a consult in April of 2021. First thing out of his mouth, "Has anyone ever talked to you before about PCOS?"

I laughed.

I laughed because every GYN I saw over the last 20 years told me I didn't have PCOS, endometriosis, or any sort of hormonal issues. I was just fat, lazy, and a piggy pig pig. I actually had one OB-GYN tell me to go on The Biggest Loser. Fat shamed while sitting there naked on his table after an invasive exam of my female bits. Thanks a lot, asshole.

I told him about that. He informed me he could tell by LOOKING at me I have the classics signs of PCOS. I use an epilator on my crazy man-hairs, so he asked if I was tweezing or waxing. I about fell out of my chair. Nobody ever believed me that I was having to remove crazy thick hairs off my chin and neck all the time. He asked if I ever had ovarian cysts. Affirmative, I was diagnosed with ovarian cysts the first time one exploded back in 1994. He stood there, holding the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"Well, going by your chief complaints, your abdominal circumference, history of bursting cysts, and no period for 3 years, I am saying you have PCOS."

He went on to discuss my need for an appointment with an endocrine specialist, he was convinced my thyroid tanking out sent my ovaries back into production, and now my hormones are all over the place, most likely, and I needed specialized care.

He must have talked to GP, because I soon got a call from the endo clinic to come in.

This post is already long and tedious, but I am happy to say I finally have 3 doctors who listen to me. My new Endo doc tripled my levothyroxine and scheduled a follow up blood test for next month. Buddy-GYN talked me into a pap smear and cervical exam in July as well. He also wants a mammogram, which I begrudgingly need to schedule so he doesn't chew my ass in July when I walk in with no results. GP is working on my other issues (weight, bad fluid retention, etc...). We discovered from a blood test last Friday my iron levels are dangerously low. I am now on a Rx iron supplement. I've always struggled with anemia, but it never occurred to me or GP to check my iron levels. If you're a woman, and you feel like absolute dog shit and your doctor can't figure out why, have your iron and electrolytes tested. It'll probably take about 3-4 weeks for me to see any results from the iron supplement, but I can already see a reduction in fluid retention.

In September, I have an appointment with Dr. Le at Integris in OKC. He's a bariatric surgeon. I have gained so much weight from having PCOS and Hypothyroidism that I need to drop a lot of fat fast. I'm pretty healthy - I don't have the normal problems obese people tend to have. I'm not diabetic, don't have sleep apnea, my cholesterol levels are good. I am what they call "healthy fat" which seems like an oxymoron. However, it will improve my chances of getting approved for a sleeve gastrectomy.

I turned 50 last week, and had to endure 3 decades of no one listening to me. I feel I lost so many years of my life and I can never get them back. I hope this post reaches a lot of younger women having issues. Keep looking for a doctor who will listen to you. It sucks we have to hunt for these unicorns, but they do exist. I finally have a good team who actually cares about me.

You have a right to be listened to! You have a right to be heard!

I was asked: Who are my doctors?

Dr. Daniel Brown D.O. Stillwater Physicians Clinic

Dr. Yasuto Taguchi M.D. Taguchi Women's Clinic

Dr. Wynter Kipgen M.D. Stillwater Diabetes & Endocrinology

#women's health #pcosawareness #pcosjourney #pcos #thyroid #hypothyroidism #symptoms #make doctors listen #women #reproductive rights #finding a doctor #listen to women #women's pain #women's suffering #endocrine #be heard #gynecology #reproductive health #gynecologist #oncologist #cancer #obesity #overweight #hormones

[gublersmessss]

Fix It | S.R.

summary — a stupid, stupid little reaction from you is how the day starts. when spencer leaves for work, you leave to get out of the house, right into the wrong arms. it isn’t until a phone call is made to garcia that they even realizes you’re missing...

warnings — some language, angst, mentions of blood, mentions of death (unsub death), mentions/usage of drugs (xanax, forced.) Some hurt feelings & just a touch of fluff. Mostly angst.

word count — 3.1k

listen to — you broke me first by tate mcrae & no time to die by billie eilish

a/n — ah my first oneshot on this blog! enjoy & my inbox is open!

You groaned. There’d been a sharp, throbbing pain in your left temple for the past twenty-five minutes, driving you up the wall. Standing still for a moment waiting for the vertigo to subside, you grab your bottle of ibuprofen off the kitchen ledge. You popped them into your mouth before taking a quick swig of the icy water in your water bottle.

You heard papers shuffling behind you, knowing it was Spencer. You’d been dating Spencer for about a year now, and only just moved in together. The small apartment you shared was extremely cozy, the only downfall was the heater had been broken the entire time of living there, leaving the winter months brutal. Luckily for you, Spencer loved his scarves and blankets, letting you take them whenever you needed.

His hair was partially in his face, and you watched as his nimble fingers came up to push a piece behind his ear as he was hunched over, trying to straighten out some papers in his satchel. You eyed him as he straightened his spine back up, looking at you with those soft hazel eyes.

“You alright?” He asks, rubbing his hands together. You saw his eyebrows furrow with concern as they ran over your face. You nod and turn away from him, taking one more ibuprofen.

“How many was that y/n?” He asks again, this time his voice a little higher, still waiting for your words. He inches closer to you as you put your water bottle down. You placed your hand on your head as the throb continued, harder this time.

“I’m fine, Spencer! Okay?! Is that what you wanted?!” You said, a lot ruder than you intended. You hadn’t intended it at all. You saw his face fall, and it broke your heart on impact. He had an open mouthed frown across his lips and he nodded, putting one hand on the opening of his satchel, one hand on the strap. He nodded softly and looked down at the mismatched socks that peeked out from under his pants.

“I got called in. There’s some papers I have to sign from Hotch. I’m sure I’ll be home by dinner time.” He tells you with a quieter tone before approaching you slowly, softly grabbing your cheeks with his hands and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I hope you feel better.”

You nod and just like that, he’s out the door. You knew he loved his job, and you were supportive of him. He was a borderline genius, and you’d seen first hand just how well he can get when talking to an unsub. You’d seen him out in the field, you could just tell he loved saving the lives that he could.

It was already about noon when you went back to your shared room, rummaging through your dresser, looking for some warmer clothes you could wear to go out grocery shopping. You chose your warmest jacket, along with one of Spencer’s favorite purple scarves.

-

Your gloved hands grip the handle of the shopping cart, pushing it down the darker, less inhabited aisle 12, paper plates and napkins. You glanced down at your list looking at what was next to get, a new fork. The one that was yours somehow got stuck down in the garbage disposal, sending Spencer into a laughing fit when you lost it. You smiled to yourself at the memory and heard a deep chuckle beside you. You got the chills, and it wasn’t from the cold.

You looked up and saw a man. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties, maybe late-twenties. He had on a black t-shirt, a working shirt, so he was a worker. No name tag. And combat boots unlaced over his black pants.

“Something funny sweetheart?” He asks. He takes a step closer to you, digging his hands into his deep pockets, and you immediately went rigid. This is why you almost never went out without Spencer. He always taught you red flags to look out for with people, how some can seem so nice and genuine and then brutally murder someone. Everything about this man was off. He smelled bad. Extremely bad.

“Oh, no.” You chuckled and pulled on the strap of your purse, holding it right against your neck, as far on you as it can get. You began pushing the basket down the aisle towards the front of the store. You felt your stomach drop when you heard his clunky boots following right behind you, almost pulling off the back of your shoe he was so close.

You saw a hand with a rag come around your front and trap it onto your nose and mouth, pulling your back against his body. You tried to fight back or even make a noise but everything went black so soon.

-

When you came to, you were sitting in a chair. It was dark, literally pitch black. You tried to move your hands and feet to stand up, but low and behold, no movement. You looked down to see what was stopping you, but it was too dark to even see your hand. You tried to scream but the rag that was stuck between your teeth prevented you from it. It tasted horrible, like some type of chemical. Definitely wasn’t good to keep your tongue on it.

Oh how you wish you never left that god damn apartment. You wish you never acted out on Spencer like that. Spencer. What if you never saw him again!? Those were the last things you said to him, you yelled at him. You looked up at the ceiling, seeing no light coming down from any cracks. Were you in a bonker?

*Spencers POV*

I finished all the paperwork for Hotch, just some aftermath from the previous case still had to be done. I nodded at him and left the office, walking back into the bullpen. My desk had so many papers on it, so many it drove me crazy.

As I sat down in my chair, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. I sent y/n a text, letting her know I just had to clean up and then I’d be home, and I'd help her make dinner.

My fingers tapped at the edge of my desk as Garcia waved at me from across the room. Smiling, I waved back at her and waited for a text back from y/n. Normally she would reply within seconds, especially if she was already home. Unless she’s gone to the store to get things for dinner.

When I left the building, I began getting worried that I hadn’t heard back from her for fifteen minutes. It seems so bad to be worried after only that long, but when she always replied so fast, this worried me terribly.

I went back to the apartment. It was locked, that was good. Means she could just be asleep, she did have a headache after all, would make sense to rest, right?

“Y/N?” I called out, setting my satchel down by the door. I cranked my head around the wall of the kitchen, not seeing anything on the counters. But what caught my attention was the wind blowing through the open window in the living room, leading out to the fire escape. My hand gripped the gun in the holster against my hip, I pulled it out and aimed it in front of me. Turning around the corner of the living room quickly, my eyes caught sight of my favorite purple scarf on the table with a note stuck to it. I raised an eyebrow and walked slowly to the note, looking behind me before I reached it. I opened it and read it.

‘Paper plates, napkins, salt & pepper, soup.’

This was y/n’s shopping list. I flipped it over and on the back was someone else’s handwriting. Messy, written in a hurry. Whoever’s handwriting it was, they looked to be disorganized. My heart began to race as my eyes scanned on the paper.

‘If you want your precious angel alive, come alone.’

“Shit.” I grabbed my phone and dialed Hotch’s number, and as I put it to my ear the lights went out.

-

*Your POV*

A man came into the room. The light from outside was absolutely blinding, but it ended as soon as it happened. You whimpered as he kneeled in front of you. He had a pill in his hand, and in the other hand a bottle of rather cloudy water. You saw his eyes, they were deep dark brown, almost black. They looked so lifeless, like a shark lurking in the water searching for a wounded seal.

“Must be thirsty huh.” He says, his voice making you shake and clench your fists. He laughed at your attempt to move, but he shook his head.

“Ain’t nobody going to hear you out here! Not even that scrawny lover boy of yours.” You furrowed your eyebrows and knew he was talking about Spencer. He looked over your shoulder, smirking at something that you could not see. You scrunched up your nose at the stench on his hands as he came up and pulled the rag out of your mouth. You grimaced as he caressed your cheek. You tried to move away but he ticked his tongue.

“Your girl sure is beautiful Dr. Reid.” The man said, and you looked up at him, trying to turn your head but he grabbed your cheeks, making you pucker your lips.

“Don’t look away from me. Believe me. You don’t want to see him like that.”

You feel tears prick your eyes as he tells you this and he quickly brings the hand with the pull in it up to your lips. You struggle against him as he shoves the pill down your throat. He pushed your head back and forced you to drink water, you coughed and choked until you finally got it down.

“Why are you doing this?” You scowl, and he shrugs, smiling at you. What a psycho.

“Want to watch the show?” It’s as if he completely changed personalities, now all cheerful, giddy almost.

Before you could answer, your chair is turned around and you see Spencer sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the room. There is a shiny chain wrapped around his body, keeping him still against the chair. He sees you from across the room. His eyebrows raise as he sees you stuck to the chair.

“Y/N?! Oh my god, are you okay?!” He says, moving against the chains, not budging one bit. He has a gentle line of blood coming down his temple, and his hair is completely messed up. He sees your eyes get more and more hooded.

You try to reply, but everything starts spinning.

“S-Spence..” The man pulls your hair back, yanking your neck back, making your throat exposed. You can just barely hear what is going on around you as you get sleepy. You can see the ceiling, your eyes finally adjusting to the dark. It looks like the ceiling of a barn, very well maintained if you can’t see sunlight. But then again, maybe it was dark out already.

“Dan come out here! Grab a bat.” The man tells someone, and you don’t see but you hear some footsteps coming up behind you.

“Ralph, please don’t hurt her. She didn’t do anything! Hit me instead, please.” Spencer’s voice rings out, raspy and aching for water. He knows him?

“Oh? Tough guy huh?! Don’t want us to hurt this precious baby do you?”

You just about can’t move, you feel so tired but you can still see and hear what’s going on. You could barely feel anything until you feel the cool metal of a blade pressed against your neck. Not pressing hard until Spencer speaks again.

“NO! Please don’t! If you want to kill someone, just kill me!” He just about sobbed. The man above you looked down at you, looking at your glazed eyes.

-

Garcia sat at her desk, tossing a lollipop back at JJ who was sitting at the chair behind her.

“Have you heard from Reid? He’s never been this quiet. I’m starting to miss his smart ass remarks.” JJ says, unwrapping the candy as Garcia dials his number to his phone without even saying anything.

It rings a few times until he, no, someone answers.

“Who in the hell is this.” A man's voice called out, and Garcia and JJ both sat up straighter.

“Spencer?” Garcia asks, reaching her arm behind her to get JJ to sit next to her. When she moves forward, they hear a thud and hear you scream in the background.

They both jump and JJ immediately runs out to get Morgan and Hotchner.

“Oh you must mean the Dr. Spencer Reid! Oh yeah he’s here with us! We’re just having some fun with y/n as well! Enjoy never seeing them again!” He says as he hangs up just as the men come into the office.

“I-I- Sir we were just thinking about him so we called him, b-but..” Hotch cuts her off.

“Track his phone. There’s a GPS installed and if the unsub wasn’t smart enough to remove it, we can find them. Text me the address Garcia.”

“Yes sir, on it.” She turns around and begins typing.

They leave the BAU in their SUVs and floor it as Morgan’s phone dings with the location.

-

You feel numb, and your heart and brain both seem to flutter with the effects of the pill. Your head drops and you open your eyes to see Spencer with his head hanging down, fresh blood in his hair. There’s a man standing behind him, wiping the blood off of the tan baseball bat with a rag.

“S-Spence..” Your voice is raspy, aching something horrible.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him, having your hair yanked back again, giving you a clear vision of him. He has tears running down his cheeks as he’s breathing heavily against the chains holding him down. There’s blood coming from his lip as well, and it quivered as he looked across your whole body.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you this morning..” Spencer’s mouth fell open and his eyebrows pinched upwards, his eyes swelling with tears as you mumbled.

“Aw how cute! You’re sorry for yelling at him? Is that why you're sorry?” The man got down close to your face, his nose pressed against your cheek as you clenched your teeth. But his attention was drawn away at the sound of a closing door outside the barn.

“Go check that out.” He tells the other man, and he grabs a handgun instead. Pressing it tight against the side of your neck as he hurriedly untied your hands and ankles, forcing you to stand up. You were walking towards Spencer, and you tried reaching out for him when you were pushed to the floor right in front of him. Your chin hit his knee as he looked down at you, still trying to break out of the chains, but that's when the gun is removed from you and pressed right against his temple.

“You’re not going to want to do that.” Spencer says, looking at up Ralph. Ralph just moves the gun, pointing it directly between his eyes. He holds it there while attempting to tie your hands back together behind your back. You wanted so desperately to fight back, but whatever he gave you had you almost completely immobile.

“Stop talking to me.”

“I’ve studied people like you Ralph. You don’t want to kill people. You have compassion deep down. But your past..” He paused as the fun pressed right against his forehead, he shuddered lightly at the coldness of it. “Your past doesn't define you.”

His sentence was punctuated with a gunshot from outside before the door busted open, as you turned your head you saw Hotch and felt set free.

“Shut up!”

“Drop the gun.” Hotch says, in the calmness his voice always is. Ralph turned to him, pointing the gun at him instead. You can see his hand shaking, and hear his breath shaking just as bad. You twist your body and kick your foot out, tripping the man. Thinking you succeeded, waiting for Hotch to run over and kick the gun out of his hand, instead he reaches over and hits you sharply over the head with the butt of his gun.

“NO!” Spencer cried as he watched your eyes close, and the blood flower on your forehead.

That moment, Hotch shot Ralph right in the middle of the eyes. He falls and Spencer moves violently in the chair desperate to get out and save you. Hotch runs to him and gets the key out of the man's pocket, undoing the chains as Morgan runs to you as well, checking your pulse.

“I NEED A MEDIC!” He yelled into his mic, flipping you onto your side, undoing your hands and you open your eyes at the feeling of hands touching your face. Much softer after getting beat.

“Y/N, Y/N i’m right here okay?! We’re getting an ambulance, you’ll be okay.” He kisses your forehead softly as your eyes flutter open and closed slowly.

“What.. What did he give me? I'm so tired.” You say, bringing up a hand to press against your forehead. You look up to see Hotch digging in the man's pocket, pulling out an orange bottle with a white label.

“Xanax. It could have been so much worse but we will get you help. You’ll be okay.” He tells you and Spencer is still hovering over you. You bring up a hand to touch his lip, not directly touching the open wound there but caressing his cheek lovingly.

He smiles down at you and holds your hand that’s on his face.

“You shouldn’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have gone in to do those goddamn papers, I should have just stayed home today and made dinner with you.” He tells you, his nose scrunching as he sniffs his tears back.

“Let’s just get out of here. Then we can make dinner.”

-

Taglist — @blissfulparker @railmereid

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #oneshot #fic #my writing #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid smut #spencerreidoneshot #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner #derrick morgan #penelope garcia #JJ

[twomoonstwosuns]

sick day.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: swearing, smut in a dream (18+), heavy amounts of fluff

word count: 4.0k

a/n: i’m sorry for the delay, it’s been a weird week. i hopefully won’t make you wait as long for the next part. this is kind of a filler chapter, but i hope you guys enjoy it still! the poe dameron x reader tag hasn’t been working so if you’re missing updates, blame Tumblr. 

also thank you @dameronsgalaxygal for helping me when i was stuck <3

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“Baby, fuck you feel so good.”

Poe gripped your hips, sliding you to the edge of his desk and sliding his cock into you. The hand on the back of his neck tightened, grabbing some of his curls in its grasp at the intrusion. Your mouth was on the base of his neck, decorating it with different sized bruises. One particular bite to his pulse with a tight clench of your pussy made him groan loudly and you quickly pulled his mouth down to yours with a tug of his tie.

“Do we have to worry about you being loud?” You breathed heavily. Poe lifted your legs higher up on his waist, the new angle allowing him to drive deeper into you. A loud gasp left your lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a smirk crossed his face. He leaned down to your ear, taking the shell of hit in his mouth. 

“You know what I’ve thought about?” He said lowly, his breath hot against your ear as he slowed his thrusts. You gave a quiet, strangled moan as a response as he bit down on it. “Taking my tie, tying you up. Completely at my mercy.”

His hand was on the side of your neck, his thumb slowly rubbing up and down the front of your throat. You were a trembling mess, the thought of him putting just a little more pressure there enough to make you come hard right on the spot. 

“I could—fuck yes, Poe—get into that.” Poe’s mouth covered yours, swallowing the sounds coming from you. You giggled against his lips as an item fell off of his desk from the harsh movement against it. 

A knock on his office door made you both freeze, horrified looks on your faces as you looked at each other and then at the door. 

“Just a sec!” Poe yelled before dropping his voice to a whisper. “Get under my desk.”

You both scrambled as quietly as you could, pulling your pants up and fixing your shirts. You tucked yourself underneath his desk, feeling very grateful for the backing on the front of the desk. Poe tamed his hair the best he could as he unlocked his door and opened it, immediately greeting the person on the other side. 

“Ackbar, how are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good, I just wanted to run something by you.” Ackbar said, nodding towards the door handle. “Who are you trying to keep out, Dameron?”

His tone was suggestive, but Poe shut it down with a shake of his head. “Some of my students like to barge in and hang out in here because of my very lenient open door policy and I have several phone calls I’m taking today. Including one in five minutes, so you have to make it quick.”

Ackbar left the door open as he sat down across from Poe’s desk. Poe sat back in his chair, scooting all the way in so his entire lower half was underneath the desk to shield you. 

“So, what’s up?” Poe spoke, providing cover for the movement you were making under his desk to make room for his legs. 

“What do you think about forgoing a final exam for anyone who’s averaging a C in the class?” Ackbar asked. “I mean, if they want to take the final to try and raise their overall grade they can, but if they fail it’ll count against them.”

Poe squirmed in his seat as he felt your hands on his thighs, rubbing slowly and traveling higher. His leg hit the underside of his desk when he felt the vibration of his zipper being slowly pulled down, which he told Ackbar was a muscle spasm. 

“You’re teaching two hundred freshman over four lectures, you sure you want to do that?” Poe said slowly, the attempt to keep his voice level and controlled extremely difficult. 

“It’s definitely less grading for me to do, but I was also thinking that—“

Everything Ackbar was saying was going in Poe’s ear and right out the other as the soft skin of your hand made contact with his cock, applying firm pressure and pumping him. He wasn’t entirely soft yet and a few strokes of your hand brought him back to fully hard. He coughed to cover the groan that almost erupted from him. 

“Here’s my opinion,” Poe said, interrupting Ackbar, sucking in a breath as your thumb brushed over the head of his cock. “I’d do it for seniors but freshman? They’ll most likely take the easy way out and skip it. Don’t let them settle for mediocre grades. Not one of them will willingly take the final.”

“Alright, you’re right.” Ackbar put his hands up in surrender. Poe felt his cock start to tighten up, the thought of coming in your hand under the desk with Ackbar just a few feet away stoking a fire inside him. Instead, Poe felt you carefully tuck him back in his pants and skillfully disguised the deep groan he let out as one of agreement. “You catching the game later?”

“I’m going to try.” Poe looked at his watch. “Sorry man, I have to take a call in a minute.”

“No worries,” Ackbar stood up, Poe doing the same and straightening his shirt so it covered more of his groin area as he walked towards the door. “You wanna grab a beer at Maz’s later? Watch the game?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Ackbar shook Poe’s hand and patted him on the back. “Have fun with those calls. Take it easy, Dameron.”

As soon as the door shut and the lock clicked, Poe let out an exasperated laugh. You crawled out from under his desk laughing so hard that you had to lean against his desk to keep yourself from falling over. Poe came around to his desk again, laughing as he plopped back into his chair.  

“I can’t believe you did that,” he said in disbelief, though the smile on his face said he wasn’t the least bit upset about it. 

“Exhilarating though.” You leaned down and pecked his lips, your hands going back to his pants and unbuckling them for the second time as you got on your knees. 

“Let me finish what I started.”

Poe woke with a jolt as a cough rocked through him, groaning at the congested pain it left behind in his chest. His eyes screwed shut and his groan grew louder at how turned on he felt at that moment, knowing he had no energy to take care of it and no energy to enjoy you taking care of it for him. Poe looked up just as you came in, a cup of water in one hand and a sleeve of crackers in the other. You set the items on his nightstand and sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his back. 

“You ok?”

“No,” he said, shoving his head into the pillow. “I was having a good dream about you.”

“Oh yeah?” Poe pushed his hips into the mattress, looking for relief. You stifled a laugh. “Oh, that kind of dream. Do you want me to help you out?”

“No, ‘m too tired.”

You leaned down to his ear, your voice lowering. “You know, I have those dreams about you too.”

Poe reached over and squeezed your thigh. “Y/N…”

“Baby…” you mocked his whine. Poe shivered and you saw goosebumps appear on his skin. You placed your hand against his forehead and then the cheek that wasn’t resting on the pillow. “You might have a fever, do you have a thermometer?”

“I don’t think so.”

You went into his bathroom and looked for anything that would help. You found some ibuprofen and you helped him sit up enough to swallow them. Pulling the blanket up around him, you leaned down and kissed his head. 

“Sleep. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

You left the door opened a crack, enough to hear if he needed you and for Beebs to come and go as he pleased. He was already snoring by the time you got to his kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. 

You knew Poe wasn’t feeling great when you talked to him the night before and you were surprised when you got an email saying he was canceling class. In the two semesters worth of classes you’d had with him, he’d never canceled a class without notice. You skipped your last class of the day and went straight to Poe’s. He tried to argue with the very little energy he had that you didn’t have to skip class to take care of him, but the minute you got him to lay in bed, he was completely submissive. 

Your phone vibrated in your pocket with an incoming call and you grabbed it to see it was Jessika calling. 

“I’m at the grocery store, do you need anything?”

“Actually yeah, do you mind picking up some things to make soup and dropping them off at Poe’s? He’s sick and he has nothing here to help him feel better.”

“Yeah you bet, send me a text?”

“I will. I’ll send you his address too. Text me when you get here.”

“No problem, see you in a bit.”

You tossed your phone onto the table and grabbed your backpack, setting yourself up on his couch. You had a long list of things that needed to get done, midterms coming up quicker than you were prepared for. You also had to order your robe for graduation so you had time to get it hemmed if needed. But an assignment that was due the next day required your immediate attention. You opened your book and you’re notebook and dove right in. 

Fifteen minutes later and you’d read the same paragraph four times. You alternated between staring at your book and tapping your pen against the page to staring to scrolling through apps on your phone. There was no motivation to do anything productive. What you really wanted to do was curl up with Poe under his blankets and just sleep, but you were already risking getting sick by being there and cuddling with him would pretty much guarantee it. Throwing your stuff aside, you walked over to the shelves that lined Poe’s living room, seeing if there was maybe a book he had that would be far more interesting than reading about marketing and trade shows. You looked through all the titles of his books, some maybe’s coming to your head when you spotted a picture frame stuck between a book and the back of the shelf. You carefully moved the book, grabbing the picture frame and wiping the dust off of the glass. 

He looked just like her. Thick and curly raven-hair sat on top their heads. They shared the same eyes, deep brown like milk chocolate, though hers were just a bit lighter. Their smiles matched, easy and laidback like it took no effort at all. You recognized the ring on her finger as the one worn around Poe’s neck. In the picture, Poe was mid-laugh as his mother carried him on her back, his tiny arms wrapped around her neck and his head against hers. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest. The way Poe talked about her and seeing the picture that you found, they were clearly very close. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how devastated Poe must’ve been when she passed. 

Poe had said he’d forgiven you for what you said, but you still hadn’t forgiven yourself. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know if you’d be able to. 

Your phone vibrated in your hand, the message telling you that Jessika had arrived. You told her the code to enter the building and a few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. 

“Thank you so much for doing this,” you said as you opened the door, immediately taking the bag from your roommate. 

“No problem at all.”

Jessika looked around behind you, her eyes curious. You chuckled and held the door open.

“Come on in.”

“Inside a professor’s apartment,” Jessika said as she stepped in. She looked around the room when Beebs came up and jumped on her. You tried to apologize and tell Beebs to stop but Jessika just leaned down and picked him up. 

“Ah, the infamous Beebs,” she laughed as he licked her face. “You really are cute, aren’t you?”

You stepped into the kitchen and put a couple bottles of gatorade in the refrigerator, leaving out the ingredients to start making soup with and digging around the cupboards for the items you’d need to make it. 

“So, what’s he sick with?” Jessika asked. 

“A cold from what I can tell. He doesn’t have a thermometer so I don’t know if he has a fever.”

“How’s he doing?”

You sighed heavily. “Poe’s amazing and wonderful in many ways, but he is still a man who thinks he’s dying because he has a cold.”

“You hear that, Beebs?” Jessika said in Beebs’ pointed ear. “He’s got a man-cold. And they’re supposed to be the superior sex.”

“Yeah, supposed to be.”

Beebs wiggled in her arms and she let him down, watching him walk off. You watched Jessika laugh quietly at the adorable dog before looking back around the apartment, giving a small nod of approval. 

“Hey Jess?” You spoke quietly, your voice hesitant and unsure. You walked over to Jessika, who had been looking at you with a questioning look. “I’m sorry.”

Jessika opened her mouth to speak and you put a hand up. “I’m sorry for being a bitch, for treating you like shit, and taking forever to forgive you. You said things and I said things and even though what you said hurt, it doesn’t mean you’re a terrible person and I’ve been treating you like you were. And I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Jessika replied and you shook your head. 

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I forgive you then. Because I’ve missed you.”

Holding your arms out, Jessika met you in a tight hug. You really had missed her too. She had been there for you when she didn’t have to be, and thinking back you were surprised she was because you felt you had treated her like shit. Beebs jumping up on both your legs trying to be included in the hug tore you apart, Jessika leaning down and scratching his ears. 

“When we’re done with school and all that and it’s fine for you guys to be in public together, I’d really love to sit down with Prof—Poe.” Jessika said, the use of his first name foreign on her tongue but the effort graciously appreciated by her friend. “You know, get to know him. As one of your best friends, it is my job to tell him that if he hurts you I’ll destroy him.”

You chuckled. “I’m sure we could arrange that if you really want to. I’ve met his friends, seems only fair that he gets to know mine.”

“Exactly!” Jessika said. “Alright, I have to get going. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I have class a 7:45a.m and he needs to sleep, so I’ll be back later tonight.”

Jessika squeezed your shoulder as she passed and you thanked her once more before she left. You set to work, setting up everything you’d need and pulling up the recipe saved on your phone. 

Chopping vegetables in your boyfriend’s kitchen was oddly domestic, like you were waiting for him to come home from work and you were cooking dinner. You wondered what you would be doing at that very moment had you not pursued your professor that Halloween night. Would you have given Ben another chance? Would you be in a relationship at all? You pondered the what if’s, yet each scenario couldn’t bring you to the level of happiness that was your reality. You really thought you had lost it all during that fight and you would never go another day without being grateful to Poe for forgiving you.

As you added all the ingredients together, your mind went to the dark place you tried so hard to push to the back of your mind. Graduation was just two months away. What was going to happen after your relationship graduated and the lease for your apartment was up and you moved back home? Poe certainly didn’t act like he would dump the relationship just because you were done with school, but you couldn’t help but think that way. You copped it up to having developed a small fear of abandonment, no doubt thanks to the sudden departure of your father. 

Slow, heavy footsteps filled the empty silence as you adjusted the temperature on the cooker. Poe slid his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You didn’t sleep very long,” you said.

“Can’t sleep anymore. Smells good,” Poe mumbled, leaning into you to see what was in the cooker. You gently bumped your head against his. 

“I’m glad you can smell,” you said. “It’s my grandma’s recipe. My mom used to make it for Tallie and I when we were sick. It’s done now, eat some. You need to eat.”

You moved around each other, him scooping up soup and you grabbing him something to drink. 

“Did I have all of this stuff?” Poe asked, looking at all the ingredients he could see in the soup as he walked to sit on the couch. 

“No, Jessika dropped off stuff. You have nothing here,” you teased, taking a seat next to him. Your expression turned a little more serious. “She wants to sit down and talk with you, you know. Get to know you. When the school year’s over. If that’s ok with you.”

“I’d like that,” he said, taking in a spoonful of soup and groaning at how nice it felt against his sore throat. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I still have some secrets left,” you smirked. “I’m glad you’re feeling better enough to eat something. I was starting to worry a little bit.”

“I’m hoping I can kick this in a few days. I’d hate to cancel class again.” You assured Poe that no one would be mad if he did, to which he laughed and then immediately coughed. You hoped he’d be able to get rid of it soon, too. “You’re going to Cabo for spring break, right?”

“Yeah, with a few girlfriends from high school. Why?”

“I just forgot.” There was something about the tone of his voice that sounded nervous, but he didn’t say anything else. You and him had discussed your spring break plans and you knew he was going to California for a few days with Finn and Rey. 

“So, I’m—“ Poe started, pausing to figure out how he was going to ask what he wanted. You urged him to continue. “After California, I’m spending a few days at my dad’s. If you can make it work, would you want to spend two or three of those days with me?”

Your mouth dropped and a small smile started to form on your face. 

“You want me to meet your dad?” Poe shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was to him. And it was to you too. 

“Yeah, I do,” he said, putting his near empty bowl on the coffee table. You were happy to see he was able to finish most of it. “I was thinking you could fly out Thursday and we’d get a late flight back here on Saturday night so the chances of running into people from here are slim.”

“That’s very specific, how long have you been thinking about this?”

“Since we last talked about spring break. I just didn’t know how to ask you.”

“Were you scared to ask me?”

“I thought it might be too soon to be meeting family.”

“It might be,” you said softly and Poe nodded in understanding, but his face fell a little. You placed your hand on his leg. “But I still want to.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded and Poe’s face lit up. This was so important to him, like meeting his friends had been. And it stirred something in your chest that he already wanted you to meet his dad. It gave you more hope for your future together. “I’ll call my friends tomorrow and see if we can figure it out.”

Poe put his hand on top of yours and squeezed it, not exactly what he wanted to do but trying not to heighten your chances of getting sick. “I’ll get the soup put away, do you want to watch a movie before you leave?”

You nod and get up at the same time as him, grabbing the blanket from the floor and stretching out on the couch. You opened up Netflix and scrolled through, deciding on a movie that you’d both seen before in case Poe fell asleep. Poe turned a couple lights off as he came back, taking the blanket from you and settling between you and the couch. Half of his body laid on top of yours, legs tangled together and his cheek resting in the middle of your stomach. His arm laid along your other side, hand curved in so his fingers grazed against your side. You were his body pillow and you didn’t mind one bit. 

Poe was a physically affectionate person. He loved to be touching you in some way, from something simple like holding your hand or throwing your legs across his lap to wrapping you completely around him while you laid in bed together, limbs so intertwined you wouldn’t know where he started and you ended. You weren’t surprised to find out that Poe was extremely cuddly when he wasn’t feeling well. A lot of people got that way. 

You started the movie and brought your hand up to run your fingers through Poe’s hair, gently massaging his scalp as you did. You had learned pretty quick that his hair was a weakness for him, something that both relaxed him and excited him depending on what you were doing with it.

It had only been about a month since your first date but you were so incredibly happy with Poe. You adored everything about him, especially the way he treated you. He didn’t talk to you or see you or treat you like a naive girl in her early twenties. He respected you as an equal, an adult in an adult relationship. It was so early in your relationship, but you couldn’t help but think about a future with him. 

This was the real thing for you. You were young and very well aware that a lot of people your age didn’t get into serious relationships. But you really wanted this to turn into something long-term. You hoped he did too. 

He had your heart; completely, fully.

“You’re staring,” Poe mumbled. You chuckled. 

“I can’t help it. 

He looked up at you, his chin on your stomach. “Thanks for taking care of me,” he said quietly, placing a kiss on your stomach over your shirt. You smiled softly down at him.

“Of course,” you said. “If I wasn’t, you’d be curled up in the fetal position starving and dehydrated.”

“I would not.”

“You would too. You’re such a baby when you’re sick.”

Poe nuzzled your stomach, the action making you giggle when his two day old stubble made contact with your skin. You relaxed into him, the hand that was in his hair traveling down to rub soothing circles on his back. Within thirty minutes of the movie starting, you were both fast asleep. 

When you were sick with a cold a few days later, Poe was better prepared to tackle the cold. You slept in his bed all day in his bed and he took care of you the same way you did for him.

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#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron smut #poe dameron #poe dameron x y/n #back to you series #smut #modern au #modern poe dameron