#in which i rant for far too long and not make any sense and slowly lose it but so does beej so im never beating the kin allegations | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phantomdecibel · 1 year

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FUCK you: re-canonifies your Flower!AU

Anyways what if Polites actually still dies flower au au (bit o context in the tags, just so this drabble makes a bit more sense since it doesnt exactly follow canon aha-)

Rattlesnake Root

shield, step carefully.

Watching Ajax rush across the deck, calling out orders while cradling little Astyanax in his arms, the realization hit Odysseus like a brick.

This is what Polites had meant.

Eurylochus’s voice still echoed in his ears — but Odysseus wasn’t hearing any of it. Everything sounded muffled, like he was listening to (one of) his best friend chew him out from underwater. He must have started yelling louder, because the teenager glanced over at the two of them, something Odysseus hesitated to label as anything other than concern written across his face.

He wanted to yell.

He wanted to scream, keep shooting venom like arrows, jump up and pace, even.

Instead he stood, hands clasped over the rail, staring blankly past the blurred shape of his friend. It was both too loud and yet too quiet and annoyingly chilly and somehow everything was way too bright. It felt like there should be a storm brewing overhead, yet the only rain falling came from his eyes. The sun shone down unapologetically overhead, and Odysseus fought back an unintelligible scream.

This is what Polites had meant, what he’d pleaded back in that forest.

If you don’t talk to us, if you don’t trust us, then how can we help?

He’d thought he’d had it all under control, that his own hangups weren’t affecting anyone else, but clearly he’d been wrong. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or just plain ignorance, but Odysseus had fucked up, pushed too far.

He wanted to sob.

He was already crying, Odysseus realized in a vague, sort of detached way. His face felt… damp, and tight from the salt already starting to dry. Something hit his hand; again and again and again, and rolled down his knuckles.

Eurylochus yelled again, throwing his arms out, and Odysseus flinched.

How long had this been brewing?

How long had he been pushing his crew, his friends to the edge? For how long had he been pushing them to the side, ignoring their concerns and needs, forcing them to pick up his slack?

…when had his efforts to protect them start to hurt instead?

Slowly, Eurylochus’s face came back into focus.

His mouth moved and Odysseus could, technically, hear him still, but the words themselves were lost to the buzzing in his head. The tilt to his eyebrows would have looked angry — really, really angry — to anyone else, but Odysseus knew his friend. Eurylochus was angry, sure, but mostly he was just worried (and tired, so tired, and grieving, too). The man’s eyes glistened wetly, shining with unshed tears.

Odysseus barely noticed as he started to shake.

He did this. This was his fault, the result of his negligence. Polites was dead because of him, and now he was driving away the other person he should be supporting, looking after the most.

Odysseus clenched the rail tighter, clearly hearing it creak under his grip. Eurylochus’s voice faded in and out, nothing but background noise.

He’d failed.

Odysseus blinked once, twice, trying to alleviate the pressure growing behind his eyes. The tears, which had been slowing, built again, suddenly, and everything was just too much.

Oh. He dimly realized again. I did this.

And Odysseus…

…Odysseus broke.

Odysseus broke, tears falling like a waterfall. He choked on a sob, shaking violently, as his knees wobbled and knocked together. Eurylochus’s voice, angry and harsh, snapped back into focus, and Odysseus keened weakly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, falling to his knees as he swallowed back another sob. “I’m sorry-“

Desperately, shaking all the while, Odysseus clutched at his friend’s chiton, head pressed to Eurylochus’s knee. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-“

Eurylochus’s angry rant trailed off into shocked silence as Odysseus tripped over his words. Apology after apology spilled from his lips as he sat shaking on the wooden deck of the ship, legs collapsed awkwardly beneath him. He didn’t dare look up as silence crashed against the ship like Polyphemus’s club crashing against men and stone, just kept choking out desperate apologies into the empty, oppressive air.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sobbed, like a mantra. “I’m sorry,”

The moment seemed to stretch for an eternity; a terrifying, heart-stopping eternity.

He couldn’t do this.

Odysseus- he couldn’t. He’d tried, fuck he’d tried. Tried to carry every burden he could, tried to protect his people, and look where they were now.

It was all a mess, a fucking disaster.

And- and Polites was gone, now, really truly gone, never-coming-back gone.

Dead.

And Eurylochus would be too- not dead, not if Odysseus had any say in it, but gone, leaving.

Leaving him, because Eurylochus would do what was best for the crew.

Odysseus was just dead weight.

The leg he leaned against, clutched in desperation, was pulled back, and Odysseus let it go.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, trying and failing to blink away his tears as his hands dropped down to dig his nails into his own knees instead. Something thudded against the ground ahead of him, but all Odysseus could think was ‘this is it’.

This is it, this is where his friend, his last surviving best friend, his brother, even, left him.

And by the gods if he didn’t deserve it.

“‘msorry,” his words slurred together. “‘msrry’msorry,”

He deserved this, for hurting his friend and daring to proclaim otherwise. Why should Eurylochus stick around? Odysseus wasn’t worth the work. He hunched in on himself some more.

“‘msorry,” he might have begged. Please don’t go. You have every right to, but please, please. Don’t leave me. “‘msrrymsrrymsor-“

Odysseus coughed.

Oh, that was odd.

He couldn’t breathe, for a moment there, air knocked from his lungs as his chest collided with something warm and solid. Something strong tugged his forwards, pulled him tight against it.

Warm arms wrapped around his shoulders, and Odysseus suddenly found his head tucked into the crook of Eurylochus’s neck as he shook. He tried to choke out another apology, but Eurylochus held him too tightly to properly speak the words.

Oh.

Odysseus shook some more, hands slowly worming their way from his knees to clutch this time at the front of his friend’s chiton.

Eurylochus was hugging him.

Eurylochus. was hugging him.

Odysseus sobbed again.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to force out again, but Eurylochus just pulled him impossibly closer.

“It’s okay,” his friend whispered, voice hoarse. “It’s going to be okay.”

mans is a bit harsh on himself :,)

He doesn’t q u i t e get the point, but he’s getting there-

Anyways so flower au; asty lives and also @hahahaghosty and I are soft for lil ajax :P

I know I always say this, but they were a huge inspiration for this (bc they fuel me w like 75% of my writing ideas lmao-), so thank you a whole lot!! wouldn’t be possible without ya :) they're really fucking awesome, go check out their stuff!! do it- Do It Now-

anyways that all from me for now, thanks for reading :P

(me: check out the tags for some context :) also me: throws way to much shit in them-

just. just read the beginning and end and itll all make sense if u wanna)

#uggggghhhhh I copy-pasted this and it got rid of my italics sadge-#anyways I wanted a flower that meant ‘please don’t go’ or smthn but could’nt find one and didn’t feel like digging too much lol #yes I know lil ajax is not actually a teenager. no I do not care #anyways context?#poli nd odys kidnap/adopt asty. poli dies. euryl thinks they should get rid of asty odys disagrees. they’re both Super Stressed-#(nearly starved to death + Polyphemus + grief)#so they fight. odys has been pushing everyone away bc he wants to do everything himself #so he can protect the friends he has left. this only creates more stress for euryl (shocker)#lil ajax just wants to help out :)#so yeah that’s what’s going on-#listen euryl is soft for his friends 🥺#u can’t change my mind #that doesn’t mean he’s afraid to kick their asses (he will. absolutely). just that w poli the designated Hug Man gone he will step up to #(awkwardly)#offer some good ol comfort :]#…#Me whenever I write literally anything: anyways this is entirely @hahahaghosty’s fault :)#flower au #epic the musical #the odyssey #odysseus #eurylochus #polites #he’s mentioned but also dead sorry-#lil ajax #astyanax #both there for about a sentence lmao #no clue if they actually know polyphemus name but whatever #oh yeah also I’m imagining neither of them have slept for a while aha-#grief/mourning

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genericpuff · 1 year

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To me the problem with lore olympus and rachel is that she keeps the fan feedback too close to her chest, yes it does "affect her because she's very sensitive" which is smth rachel has said before in interviews and stuff, but the problem is that if u let fan opinions get in the way of ur work maybe u should set boundaries with the way u interact with fan content OF UR OWN WORK.

Im not sure if im explaining myself correctly, but the way rachel somehow always tries to prove criticism wrong and has slowly started ignoring the foundations she previously set is making everything just so flat and boring. She doesnt work with what we've already read but trying to somehow "fix" things that are sometimes not clear on the get go.

For example, u (and a lot of people) complained about how demeter explicitly said she always put persephone in white (when persephone has willingly been wearing that color through the entire series). Meanwhile, i remember having read a post from loreolympians on instagram (iirc) analyzing perse's change of color scheme during s2.

The problem with these things is that rachel has most likely been engaging with these fans who take for granted that she plans everything out or that everything has a deep meaning (which to a sense you should do, because having faith in the author is usually how to go about analyzing storytelling), and somehow it's become a strange echochamber and it results in these weird, very blatantly written to be noticed, details or moments htat try to be smart but are just flat bc rachel doesnt give any effort to anything else aand prefers telling rather than showing so she can feel like a good author when fans obviously point these out

Jdhdjd these are just my two cents and sorry for the long rant but yeah basically rachel should separate herself from the fandom and try to write more objectively and focusing on the narrative instead of taking every little criticism of her comic so personally

Honestly, I can get being a little squeamish around criticism, shit I've had analysis stuff on my work that's consisted of praise and it's still sometimes a little overwhelming to read (I've got a big one in my asks right now that took me like 10 minutes to get thru because I had to keep taking breathers and I still need to actually share it LMAO it's not even criticism! it's just got so much in it, ahfdsaklg)

When it comes to criticism, I still get a little "aw man" sometimes. I recently got feedback from Pyrrhic & Victoria on my Reaper redraws and even though I'm pals with them and know they aren't gonna be harsh, it's still an incredibly vulnerable position to put oneself in. Especially when it's projects that you hold very close to your sense of self.

RS has definitely taken it a little too far in tying LO to herself as a person. Criticism of the comic = criticism of her , and her fanbase seems to view this the same way, that if someone doesn't like the comic, that has to automatically say something about them as consumers when... it really doesn't. If anything their reactions to criticism say way more about them as people than the criticism existing lmao

What's more upsetting and simultaneously eye-rolling is the fact that Rachel goes out of her way to look for things to be upset about. On multiple occasions now over the past 4-5 years, she's snuck into groups containing criticism, attempted to strongarm power away from moderators so she could have criticism removed, and basically just ruined her own day over other people's opinions whether or not they were meant to be read by her.

It's why I stand by the fact that people shouldn't be directly messaging RS with criticism or hate because that would just be unsolicited cruelty. While she should be more open to criticism, that doesn't mean she needs to open the floodgates on her DM's because there are plenty of places for criticism to exist outside of her peripheral. But she keeps turning her head to look at it. Like, she'll throw a hissy fit over criticism that wasn't even really directly aimed at her, just meant for the sake of discussion. And that's where I'd really honestly wish she could just get a grip.

Like, I'm sure there's criticism of Rekindled out there already. Shit, I've had other projects from yeeears ago that ended up being made fun of outside of where I posted it. It sucked, but going out and actively looking for it for the purpose of erasing it from existence wasn't going to make me a better creator nor was it going to benefit me as a person.

It's a shitty reality, but the bigger you grow as a creator, the more you will have to separate yourself from your audience. You don't have to stonewall them completely, many people follow these works for the creators themselves, but you're not entitled to everyone's friendship and praise, and if the criticism really bugs you that much, then fucking work on the thing they're criticizing, don't double down on it or try to control how your audience consumes your content.

It's why it drives me so nuts when RS does infiltrate these groups because it's an incredible invasion of privacy as well as the creator-reader relationship. Q&A's, panels, and personal socials are where you go to interact with the creator. A creator sneaking into a Discord group or subreddit or FB group with the intent of "listening in" would be equivalent to J.K. Rowling showing up in person to a book club meeting. It's just disrespectful to your audience and makes you look like a huge asshole. Have some grace and for once, I'll tell Rachel and her fanbase to take their own advice - if you don't like it, don't read it.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #antiloreolympus #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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cringefaildiaz · 1 year

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For clarification, I was a Buddie shipper for the longest time, but because of recent episodes I’ve kinda abandoned ship.

I think that we (tumblr, reddit, Twitter) see the show differently than the general audience. I think there’s a lot of people who dig into things that don’t actually mean anything and call it in the name of Buddie. I shipped them because narratively it made the most sense, but I 100% think the shirt colors/water/beer theories aren’t complete and utter bullshit. Like, I enjoy reading them, but they aren’t anything. These are writers who 1: can’t remember their own details 2: are very open about any sort of metaphor, like the couch thing. The couch metaphor for a relationship was said on screen, it was real. Everything else is grasping. I’m an actor, I’ve gone through costume fittings before, I’ve seen wardrobe trailers, I’ve had a costumer. In a show that’s this expensive and that’s running this long, they will wear the same stuff a few times. Blue and green look best on screen. They can’t use product placement of real items. There’s a lot of reasons for stuff in the show that doesn’t have to do with Buddie and it makes me, and many others, not take Buddie seriously when people say things like “the lightning strike is the baking soda and it’s standing in the way of the beer which is their relationship” Nope. That’s just set dressing and props doing their job. “They made 3 s’mores because one represents Buck!” No… it represents Shannon, that was in the episode.

I also don’t think Buck and Eddie are a slowburn. Or if they are, and this is something they’ve planned out, they’ve done a terrible job. The point of a slowburn is for the audience to see, to feel, to root for the characters to get together. It has to be really obvious that it’s happening, albeit slowly. That it grows and they are so in love, and there’s feelings, and it’s a big will they won’t they. Buck and Eddie had a foundation for this, but the general audience can still call them brothers or platonic friends. Meaning that it’s not clearly romantic and therefore not a slowburn. It could be, if they wanna have Eddie really hate Natalia and openly reveal feelings for Buck even just to himself and let that drive them into season 7, then yes we would have an actual slowburn. It’s not impossible and it’s not too far gone, but if they keep down the path they’re on where it’s tumblr users grasping, it will be.

I also just think they’re writing the characters in circles and until they break out of that, there’s no hope for anything. I mean anything, romantically or not. Buck is currently a headache, at least Eddie seems to be having some growth, but his is also tied to a relationship and people telling him to date and him thinking he has to… ugh

so I actually mostly agree with you, but I think this might be a case of missing the forest for the trees.

I'm definitely with you that a lot of the fandom theories are...not realistic. I'm actually intimately familiar with how wardrobe and costume design operates on shows like 9-1-1 through my job, and I have never in my life heard of wardrobe operating on a set the way fans theorize they do. Not to say that things like color never mean anything, they can absolutely be used very intentionally (and are, by good designers), but they have very different reasons for making choices than what is popularly discussed here. (baby rant on costume metas->on a show like 9-1-1, the most important factor—beyond making your actors look good—is making their wardrobe choices believably human. It's about psychology and fleshing out character; it's rarely about storytelling. What would this real life person have in their closet? How would they choose to present themself in this setting? I'd also say there are some things the fandom DOES pick up on that I read as intentional, but on a show as big as 911, its a little silly to assume every outfit has a deeper meaning)

I also agree with your general point that people read a little too deep into metaphors and symbolism that aren't there on a textual level. You're right that the creators make it VERY obvious when those things are in play—because 911 wasn't a show that was made to be analyzed. Again, not saying that there's nothing to pick up on; I think it's pretty obvious Eddie's on the journey to find his soulmate, and I think it's pretty obvious Natalia isn't Buck's endgame, because they made it clear in the text. But that doesn't mean that every detail is put in to give hints on what's coming. It's a goofy procedural, it's not high art. I don't know how many people really believe those theories vs. how many people just have fun with them (like me), but I get what you're saying about it seeming really silly to anyone outside the bubble.

But re: missing the forest for the trees, I do think it's a little sad to get bogged down by the theories so much that it takes you out of digesting the actual media. You said that you "shipped them because narratively it made the most sense," and I guess I wonder if you don't think it makes narrative sense anymore, or if the popular theories seem so off the wall that you've written off any subtext that's actually coming from the show. And either is fine, but I remain firmly on the "it makes the most narrative sense" side of the aisle, although for more textual reasons than the goofy theories entertain (and I follow a lot of excellent blogs that do the same)

I think that you're really spot on with the slowburn aspect—s2-6a buddie was a developing close friendship, and a beautifully done one in my opinion. But it didn't read to me as romantic while watching casually, it read to me as a really significant platonic partnership. And I so agree that it's a really phenomenal foundation for an actual slowburn. After watching the episode last night, I think that might be the direction they're headed, and I don't think I'd feel that way if not for the couch of it all. But I've said it a few times on here, I don't see any way that this is the final act of their slowburn, because I don't feel there's been any burn yet. The fact that I'm starting to think there might be a reveal to the GA, a real will they/won't they, is what has me so firmly on the buddie canon train right now.

And yeah, Buck going in circles is how I'd put it, too. But as I said it to another anon, I get the feeling that this is the last circle for Buck before his series-long journey for happiness and self worth ends. I actually love the aspect of solving one problem with his perspective only to unearth another, deeper problem, but I can only watch that large man be sad in the exact same way so many times. As for Eddie's dating adventures, I'm feeling like they're making it clear that even though Pepa was the one to push him into it, he is actually interested in finding a partner for the right reasons.

Anyways, seems like we mostly agree and I'm either more optimistic or more delusional than you—only time will tell! Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me

drop your thoughts/theories/speculation on why you don't think buddie will go canon in my ask box because I'm curious (I'll be nice I promise)

I'm tagging all these posts with #anti-buddie and #buddie-neg if you want to filter

#ive tried to keep my mouth shut about my side eyes at the theories but i invited negativity into my asks #so i kinda corned myself into revealing my True Feelings on it #theyre fun! i enjoy the fun of them! but please do not take them seriously im begging #i take even the ones i think might be intentional with a grain of salt #bc its kind of hilarious how often things that look like intentional symbolism are actually just happy accidents #or unhappy accidents if you project too much meaning onto them and they turn out not to be true #anti buddie #buddie neg #ask a bean

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justaredheadf1fan · 2 years

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Back to Marina Bay we go!

Long time no see!

So it's been 2 weeks now and it hasn't really been that quiet, am I right!? First, we have the Monaco GP renewed until 2025 at least, which for me it's great news since I love it regardless of how boring it can be most of the time outside of Quali. And then we have Yuki being renewed too but in this case for another year at Alpha Tauri. Now we only need to see if Pierre stays and the bromance goes on or, on the contrary, we get robbed of the greatest love story after Sewis.

Aaaaand the most non-shocking news was Latifi's exit from Williams at the end of the 2022 season. Now that's gonna be fun. Who will be Albon's new partner in crime?

Also, now it seems we're getting 6 sprint races instead of 3 for 2023. Are you fucking kidding me. Not even asking anymore. Just, are you fucking kidding me.

Apart from that the greatest thing to have happened in the last 2 weeks is the fact that Estie Bestie invited Mick to his birthday party with his family and they went together to Disneyland Paris. How cool is that? And they say you can't have friends in Formula 1. Check them, those are friendship goals 🥰

Lastly, but very, very importantly, Red Bull and Aston Martin suspected of surpassing the cost cap. Aston Martin vibin' spending money and still flopping gives me life. But Red Bull? I truly hope Ferrari's right AND that the FIA do their fucking jobs for once. It's time, they owe it to all of us, especially one very specific someone.

Now onto the important stuff. MARINA BAY IS BACK! And so am I, now let's see what I've missed during my busy work days.

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Alex is finally back after undergoing surgery to remove his appendix during the Monza weekend. Doctors having to turn off the race because he was getting stress is a funny thing, tho.

Estie Bestie and Mick getting asked about their time together on the break between race weeks was quite cute, honestly.

Other than "all" that, the guys mostly talked about the possibilities and challenges of this race, so nothing else worth commenting really.

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I don't think I've ever seen the Singapore track in the daylight. Of course, before this season I never really watched Free Practice so... There's that.

FP1 just starting and Charles already has some trouble with the brakes. Can this boy have a normal weekend??? Please????? He hasn't even done anything because of the issue with his car so far. George going against the wall, slowly at least. Good thing he knows what to do not to fuck up the car, it was so subtle. Good boy, Giorgio.

I'm not even gonna start on the commentators today, I'm not in the mood. Nothing else really happened until Stroll went sideways and crashed into the wall with the left side of his car. "So... Red Flag, Red Flag".

Lewis saying that the car is undriveable and then he gets P1, huh?

This guy!

Carlos almost crashing with everything he has against the wall, Jesus Christ boy, do you want to die?! Between the commentators losing it and the moment itself, my heart wasn't ready 😂

By the way, how cool is Seb's new helmet?! I mean!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??! It's fucking insane, I LOVE IT!!!!!!!

Anyway, so Lewis P1, STOP THE WEEKEND! I guess having James Allison there must have been effective.

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How impressive is Singapore from the air? Whoa.

I'm trying to stay awake, at least not to postpone again watching FP2, because I know myself and having to work at 4pm tomorrow, having to FPs to see plus Quali... I won't make it 😂 I'm not making any sense, I'm aware 🤪

Giorgio my boy going against the very same spot in the wall as in FP1? Dear Lord, spare me. And Alonso almost going sideways against the wall too but in his case he always looks like he's bumpy riding or something so 😂

Latifi ranting about Pierre when Pierre clearly, after making a mistake, put the car on the side in order to let people pass? No wonder he's out of F1 next season.

Leclerc catching on pretty quickly after not even touching the track for the whole of FP1 and more than half of FP2. Leave it to Charles Leclerc. Such a guy.

OH MY GOD PIERRE. NO BARBECUES PLEASE, I NEED YOU IN ONE PIECE.

I think I might make it through FP2 without falling asleep, which is a success for today. I know I've probably left out several things I wanted to comment on here for days, but it is what it is 🤷🏻‍♀️

Lewis drifting into the weekend like he owns it, which he obviously does, as usual. That was hot even if he didn't mean or want to.

So I'm gonna do the same and drift... away to bed 😂 I can't take this anymore, I'm exhausted.

Let's see what tomorrow brings, then. Peace out!

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spencerreidsconverse · 3 years

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Bets With a Vegas Boy

summary: When Spencer and Reader make a bet with high stakes, their stubborn sides show, but when a consulting officer has his eyes on reader, Spencer has to step in.

word count: 4.9k

warnings: SMUT (breeding kink, daddy kink, a bit of degradation, semipublic sex,) unrequited flirting, criminal minds style violence, suggested cannibalism, reader has multiple tattoos

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: This took me forever to finish as I was on vacation! I hope you all enjoy it!

“Y/N, have you ever met Reid? You’re supposed to be smart, why would you willingly sign up for this?” You scoffed at JJ’s words. When Penelope Garcia is involved it seems that no news traveled slowly, proven by the entire BAU’s new knowledge of the bet you had made with boy genius after bickering about which of you was more clingy. “JJ, you really underestimate me that much?” She shook her head in disbelief “You know that’s not it, but come on Y/N! Seriously, he’s banned from every casino in Vegas! Why would you bet against that?” “JJ, he was banned because he can count cards. It’s not like we’re playing Black Jack for christ’s sake!” She weighed the idea for a moment and you could see the wheels turning in her head. “Okay that’s true, but still. He’s the most stubborn man I’ve ever met. I seriously hope whatever he has in mind for your forfeit isn’t as bad as yours.” You laughed, imaging Spencer in the predicament you were positive he would be in the thick of by the end of the week.

“I think he’d look good with one, you don’t agree?” JJ rolled her eyes as you both made your way out of the elevator towards the glass doors. “That’s not my point Y/N, don’t you think it’s a little harsh? I mean he’s not like you, how do you know he’d even want one?” You smirked, remembering the first time you’d met Dr. Spencer Reid. You had been brought on to the team a few short years ago after an implemented policy that required an even amount of field agents so there were partners for every investigation. You thought it was a bit condescending, requiring the most brilliant minds in the nation to follow the buddy system, but it gave you a job and for that you were thankful. It had its perks though, one of which being your immediate pairing with Reid. You were as young as him and not far behind in brilliance. What you lacked in eidetic memory and forgein language fluency, you more than made up for in marksmanship and street smarts. You and Reid got along fine, even if it was a bit tense at first. He was thoroughly convinced he didn’t need a babysitter.

“I’m a grown man! Why would I need to be watched every second of the day? The last thing we need is a liability.” you remembered the words like it was yesterday. You had been approaching him from behind, and overheard his rant. “Well, technically since we’re the same age, I’d hardly consider myself a babysitter. Would you trust your child’s care with someone their age?” Spencer had turned himself around so fast he’d almost fallen off the desk he was perched atop. “Y-you must be Agent Y/N! It’s uh nice to meet you?” He cringed at the tone of his voice, and you burst out with giggles before shaking your head. “Don’t worry Dr. Reid, I understand it must be a difficult situation for you. I mean, if I were the resident genius I wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea of being shown up either.” The dark-skinned woman who had previously been engaging him in his sour mood let out a surprised chuckle and you watched his face turn from embarrassment to shock and finally settle on disbelief. “Wh- Excuse me?” You felt your stomach begin to cramp as his reaction made you laugh further and you clutched your files against your chest. You fought to catch your breath for a few seconds before regaining your composure. “Excuse my reaction, Dr. Reid but I couldn’t resist. No hard feelings?” He nodded mutely and you saw a soft smile crack through his mock stern expression. You turned to introduce yourself to the woman next to him, Tara Lewis. You made small talk for a few more minutes while Reid scribbled away at his desk before Emily called all of you to the round table with a case.

Nerves had struck you then, and you stood frozen instead of joining Tara in her stride. “Y/N, everything okay?” You jumped slightly as you heard Reid’s voice from behind you. “Oh! Yes, sorry!” You moved out of his way, trying your best not to stumble over an empty desk and failing miserably. He stretched his hands out and caught you, much to your embarrassment. “Are you sure you’re okay? Are you feeling ill?” You shook your head quickly. “No! No, I'm fine, really.” He looked into your eyes and you tried to ignore the sparks you felt deep in your chest. “Y/N you’re working with profilers now, lying that poorly will never work around here.” His joke succeeded in its attempt to lighten the mood and you let out a soft laugh despite your anxiety. “I’m just a little nervous I guess. I didn’t expect to have a case so soon.” He nodded and his thumb absentmindedly rubbed soothing circles on your sleeve. “I understand. We all felt that way at first. I won’t say it’s easy, but we’re all here to support you. Take a few deep breaths.” You did as he instructed and you felt your nerves ease as he consoled you. “That’s better. Besides, what could you have to worry about? You have the best partner here.” You laughed, and he released your arm. “I’ll meet you in there.” and with that he left you standing there trying to lock down the feelings he had just arisen in you. “Nice Y/N, crush on your partner first thing. What a great start.” you muttered to yourself

A few moments later you joined the rest of the team at the table and quickly reviewed the case, before lifting off 45 minutes later to a small town in Georgia. Everything felt like a whirlwind and you did your best to keep up. True to what Spencer had said, the team helped you get your bearings and by the end of the night you were making great strides along with the rest of them. It was near midnight when Emily dismissed you all to the hotel a few blocks away to get a few hours of rest. You were thankful, having poorly attempted to drown your tiredness with watery coffee from the small pot at the station, and you made your way to the hotel as swiftly as you could manage. When you were all gathered in the lobby, Emily handed out the keycards and it quickly dawned on you how the room assignments would work. You tried to shake off the thought and prayed that the night would go quickly. It made sense to just put the partners together, it made keeping track of everyone easier and allowed for quick communication between the team. You told yourself all the reasons it was logical as you made your way up to your room.

Spencer left you to your thoughts, but he could see how hard you were focusing. He unlocked the door and the lights switched on as you both made your way towards your beds. You heard him ask you something, and turned awkwardly to face him “Sorry, what’d you say?” He looked at you, a mix of amusement and concern on his face. “I asked if you wanted to shower first. Are you okay?” “Oh! Yeah, thanks. I’m okay, just thinking about the case.” You hoped you had lied better this time and were relieved that he seemed to buy it. “Just try to shut your mind off of it for now, I know it’s hard. Trust me, you’ll feel much better when you’re refreshed.” You nodded at his words and pulled some pajamas out of your go-bag. “Thanks Spencer. I’ll try not to take too long.” He shrugged you off “No worries, take your time.” You shut yourself behind the door and tried to shake the feelings out of your head. “Get a grip Y/N. You’re being crazy.” You scolded yourself before showering. You hurried despite Spencer’s insistence and quickly made your way out of the shower to dry yourself off. You applied lotion to your ink-covered skin and slipped on your shorts and t-shirt before drying your hair as fast as you could and making your way out of the bathroom. You dropped your folded clothes on top of your bag, alerting Spencer that you were done.

“That was fast, you really didn’t have to-” his words died in his throat as he looked up from the file in his lap and caught sight of your legs, covered in the intricate artwork that stretched across the skin. You tried to ignore his watchful gaze. “It’s no problem! I wanted to save you some hot water.” He thanked you quietly and made his way to the bathroom hurriedly, trying not to look at you again. You tried to fall asleep but you couldn’t get him out of your head. A few more minutes passed and he made his way over to his bed, trying to will the awkward tension out of the room. You both eventually managed to fall asleep without speaking another word.

The tension continued to grow over the next few months and the rest of the team were getting sick of watching you two dance around each other. You both denied any advances, shot down the chance to go out on any of the numerous blind dates members of the team offered to set up, and chose instead to trade glances across the bullpen and divulge your personal lives over breakroom lunches. Eventually, they made plans for a team outing and convinced you both to attend. Penelope made reservations at a nice restaurant, announcing that everyone just had to try their food. That night however, you showed up to Spencer waiting awkwardly at a table for two in the back corner with a sour face. “Where’s the rest of the team?” You asked him, taking the seat across from him. “Apparently they’ve all had to cancel. Luckily, the reservation was for two.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion and you made a mental note to scold Garcia. “Well, since we’re here I’m happy to eat. I’m starving.” Spencer’s eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly, agreeing with you. After an evening of great food and better wine, the rest was history, and you found yourself thanking Garcia the next day instead. You and Spencer had been dating for just over two years now, though he’d be able to count it down to the second you’d showed up looking angelic at the restaurant that night. You both complimented each other perfectly and you had a relationship stronger than either of you could have dreamed of.

“Hello?? Y/N are you even listening to me?” JJ’s words and nudge against your shoulder brought you back to present day and you snapped your eyes back to her face. “Yes! Sorry JJ I was just thinking… Anyways, we’ve talked about it before. He loves all of mine, and he’s talked about getting one. He’s just afraid of the pain, and too indecisive to choose what he wants.” You blushed softly as you thought about the many nights spent in your shared bed, Spencer tracing the black lines with his fingertips. He adored them and thought they made you especially unique, not to mention he found them extremely sexy. He favored the black sun on your ribcage, shaded to perfection. Even when you were clothed he would run his hand along the fabric that covered the piece.

“Well still, if you do happen to win, I can’t imagine he’ll go along with it.” You smirked and shook your head. “We’ll see about that JJ.” You both sat at your desks, and began to work through your piles of paperwork. You were thankful there was no case that needed your immediate attention, but paperwork always made you feel like a nap by the time lunch came around. You pushed yourself away from your desk, and stood to find yourself nearly chest to chest with your boyfriend who had stood at the same time. “Oh, sorry Spence. I just need coffee.” You maneuvered your way around him, missing the way he would usually grab your hips to aid you. He followed you to the break room and you poured him a cup as well leaving plenty of room for sugar. Instead of handing it to him with a quick peck on the cheek however, you left it on the counter to be picked up. “You really think you can go a week without touching me?” You heard his voice from the doorway. “It’s already been 3 days.” You said uninterestedly with a shrug, and he eyed you suspiciously. “Okay fine, no. I just think I can go longer than you can.” You finally admitted, smirking back at him.

He grabbed the mug from the counter, adding several teaspoons of sugar before taking a sip. “We’ll see about that. You’re the one that’s always curling yourself around me.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh yeah, like you hate it. You’re the one that’s always rubbing my back and holding my hand under tables. Even when we’re on the metro home you’ve got your hand in mine.” He narrowed his eyes at you and stuck his tongue out, making you chuckle. “Very mature Dr. Reid. I can’t wait to win.” He opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by Luke who stuck his head in to alert you both of the new case you’d be working. You let out a long sigh. “So much for paperwork.” The three of you made your way to the round table and sat, Spencer curling his hand into a fist to keep himself from subconsciously reaching over to place his hand on your leg.

“So, we are assisting in a local case this time, with Washington state PD about a string of murders in the homeless community. However, there’s been hefty construction in their field office so they will be joining us here.” Penelope quickly took the lead after Emily’s announcement and filled you all in about the details. She ran through the few details the local PD managed to uncover on their own and the team had only managed a few minutes of brainstorming when a group of police officers made their way through the glass doors of the BAU. There were only a handful of officers which surprised all of you, and Emily led the rest of you out of the conference room, beelining her way to the chief. “Hello, Landon. It’s nice to see you again.” She shook his hand briefly. “Likewise Emily, though I wish it was under different circumstances.” “As do I. I’m sorry for the miscommunication, I was under the impression that your entire force would be joining us. Is that not the case?” The chief, Landon Bridges you now knew him as, shook his head. “We knew you had a pretty tight space and we have a lot of members. I brought a few people from each department and figured it’d be easiest to fill everyone else in periodically. We didn’t want to overflow your space and leave no room to work.” Emily nodded and rested her hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate the thought, thank you. This is the rest of my team. SSAs Jennifer Jareau, Luke Alves, Matt Simmons, David Rossi, Y/N Y/L/N, Drs Spencer Reid and Tara Lewis, and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” You all gestured as Emily quickly introduced you, and a short time later you were all acquainted and working throughout the bullpen. You and Spencer were just beginning to start the geographical profile when one of the Washington police officers, Kline, made his way over to you. “Pardon me agents, do you need any help?” You looked up from your section of the grid lines and smiled at him which he returned brightly, but before you could answer, Spencer dismissed him. Kline’s face fell slightly but he nodded and made his way over to where Tara and Luke were reviewing the last known areas of the victims.

You turned and stared at Spencer in disbelief. He looked up after a few seconds, feeling your eyes burning a hole through the top of his head. “Yes?” You glared at him harder, before railing into him in a hushed tone “Don’t ‘yes?’ me. That was insanely rude. They’re here to help us! Quit acting all high and mighty.” He stared back at you and you saw the stubbornness light up his eyes. “Why should I? We could solve this case twice as fast without them getting in the way.” He knew he was talking too loud, and was more than aware of Kline who was staring at his back with a sour look resting on his face. “Spencer! I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to fix it. You’re being an ass.” He rolled his eyes and you both let out a sigh before looking back down at the maps covering the desktop beneath you.

A few hours passed before you and Spencer finished the geographical profile, and you gestured Kline over to ask him a few questions about the area you’d narrowed down. Spencer noticed he had made his way to your side and bit his lip to keep himself silent. “Officer Kline, can you tell me anything about this area of the block? It seems like a lot of our victims were last seen in this area.” He eyed the map where red ink stained the paper and pondered for a few seconds. “Well, there’s not much out there really. A few older shops and some construction to the east” he gestured to the empty spot of land on the map “but nothing of real interest. We don’t usually get calls for the homeless population over here either. There’s not really much shelter so they don’t usually go towards this way” Your brow furrowed and you nodded, thanking him but before he could get another word in Spencer piped up. “Kline, if the homeless population doesn’t “Go that way” he mocked the officer in front of you, and Kline tensed up in response “then why are they all disappearing from the area? Does that make sense to you?”

Kline struggled to respond and you glared at Spencer before assuring Kline there was no need for him to pay Spencer any mind, excusing his behavior with a rambling about late nights and too little coffee. Kline walked away and you stared Spencer down for several seconds before making your way towards the main group to deliver the geographic profile, leaving Spencer to sulk. You continued to avoid Spencer until you were sent out to investigate the block you sectioned off with Emily and JJ. You opted to drive which left Spencer in the passenger seat, fuming at your silent treatment and JJ and Emily trying to fight the tension in the SUV to no avail.

You parked the SUV a few blocks away and the four of you walked the rest of the way to avoid raising too much suspicion. You were standing in the center of the unsubs hot zone when you noticed a line of people clustered in front of one of the more rundown buildings. The building had wide front windows that had been taped over with brown paper, as well as the glass doors. You and Spencer approached the group warily, trying to get closer to see the poorly written signs on the door.

“DISCOUNT MEAT - PRE-COOKED”

“12pm-12am”

You gestured Emily and JJ over and the four of you quickly aimed to disperse the crowd much to their displeasure. After several minutes of arguing and multiple badge flashes you managed to succeed and stood outside the door ready to investigate once the owner opened his doors. Fifteen minutes had passed without any sign of movement from the inside and Spencer began to shift anxiously, causing you to do the same. A few more seconds passed and you heard the locks on the door click, reaching your hand around to rest on your holster automatically. As soon as the door opened, Emily pushed through holding her badge and announcing the reason for your investigation.

The shop owner immediately demanded you leave and not return unless you had a warrant. “Actually, because this is no longer a registered business it becomes property of the town and therefore is subject to any kind of local or national investigation under Property law 14, sections 3a-3f go more in depth about the issue if you feel the need to verify.” Spencer explained the situation while sifting through the counter drawers, leaving the man to sit in silent rage while Emily and JJ questioned him. You bent over to fiddle with a padlock on a hollowed bench seat on the far wall and pulled one of the pins out of your hair to pick it. A few seconds of tampering later, the lock gave way with a satisfying click and you pulled the bench open. A rancid smell hit your nose and stomach before you could process what you were seeing. Body parts were wrapped in butcher's paper and poorly taped, and you fought to keep your breakfast down as you slammed the bench shut. Emily then stood the man up and cuffed him, while reciting the miranda rights. JJ followed her out and you followed her quickly, trying and failing to erase the memory from your mind.

Back at the office, the rest of the team and several of the officers had already begun processing the unsubs case and there was little left to be done by the time you returned. You filled out your files and quickly wrote out your account of the incident before heading to the breakroom for a cup of coffee. You pulled your mug down from the shelf and pressed your favorite individual pod into the machine and pressed the button to let it run. You were digging in the fridge for your creamer when a deep voice startled you

“Little late for coffee isn’t it?” You turned swiftly to find Kline standing in the doorway and you let out a small sigh. “When you work like we do, it’s never too late for coffee” You smiled and made your cup to your taste, taking a long sip. You expected Kline to just grab what he wanted and leave, but instead he continued to make awkward conversation despite you going so far as to begin scrolling through your phone. “So, that Spencer guy is really a piece of work huh?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes and instead remained focused on your screen, telling yourself that he just didn’t get the chance to see the good side of Spencer like everyone else there had. “He’s really not a bad guy, he’s just had a long day. We all have.” Kline nodded but moved closer to you, so close that you could smell his headache-inducing cologne. “I’m just saying, if I had the opportunity to work with you every day, I wouldn’t waste my time arguing with you. I’d treat you right.”

You shifted uncomfortably, praying he would pick up on your uneasiness and back off but instead he moved to corner you against the counter. You tried to excuse yourself but your voice caught in your throat.

“Kline, I really overestimated you. I figured even a man as dimwitted as yourself would be able to tell when a woman isn’t interested but here we are.” Your head snapped up towards the doorway where Spencer was standing. Kline turned around and prepared himself to tell your boyfriend off when he froze. Spencer had the look in his eye that sent chills down your spine and made it very aware to Kline that there was no use fighting. He quickly left the room and you and Spencer held eye contact for several seconds before he spoke again “Meet me in the storage room at the end of the hall in 2 minutes.” His voice made your legs feel weak and you nodded, dumping the contents of your mug down the drain, keeping your pace in check as you slipped into the hallway.

You had barely unlatched the door when Spencer pushed it the rest of the way open and you felt yourself being dragged into the dimly lit space. You barely had time to let out a surprised squeak when you felt his lips against your throat, turning your noise into one of pleasure. His kisses quickly turned sharp, applying the expertly rehearsed amount of pressure to avoid marks but to still send shockwaves of heat to your core. “Spence” his name left your lips in a whine while he busied himself unbuttoning your blouse. “Spencer, you just lost the bet.” You felt a smirk grow across your face that disappeared as he hiked your skirt up to your hips while rubbing your clit through your panties. “Fuck the bet, Y/N. I’m sick of seeing you walk around here clueless. You know I’ve been all over Kline’s ass, little girl?” His voice dropped lower and he lifted you up to push you against the wall. “It’s because he couldn’t stop looking at yours.” You let out a moan as he pushed your panties to the side, slipping two of his fingers into you.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet. Did me getting all protective of you turn you on? You like making daddy jealous?” You shook your head as well as you could manage, trying to keep your volume in check. “Answer me pet, or you’re not gonna get daddy’s cock in you like I know you’re desperate for.” You whimpered at his words “No! I-I wasn’t trying to make you jealous daddy I swear!” You stuttered as he began to spread you further with his fingers. He smiled against the exposed skin of your chest before removing his fingers. “That’s my good girl. You ready for daddy?” You nodded as he fiddled with his belt buckle, moaning in anticipation as he released his cock from his slacks. You bit your lip as he ran the tip over your folds, sucking in a harsh breath as he pushed himself deep inside you. He let you adjust for a moment while he sucked at your neck again. “Daddy, please move. Please, I need you.” He let his hips move, pulling almost all the way out of you before slamming you forward into the wall again. You let out a moan as he thrusted in and out of you. You felt like your skin was on fire, the lack of touch over the past days made everything more intense.

A few more minutes passed and you felt yourself growing dangerously close to the edge. “Spence I’m gonna cum” you felt his pace grow even more rapid and he circled your clit with his thumb. “I’m gonna cum inside you angel. I’m gonna fill you up with my kid. You want that huh? Want everyone to know that you belong to me, don’t you?” You moaned at his words “God yes, please daddy. Please cum inside me!” You felt his hips stutter under you and a familiar warmth as you finally climaxed. Your toes curled and your head fell back against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“God Y/N that was amazing.” You let out a soft whimper as he pulled out of you and lowered you back down to your feet. He kissed you, pulling you closer than before. “I love you Spencer. Only you.” He touched the tip of his nose to yours and returned your words, while you both caught your breath. A few minutes later you both exited the closet, and tried to smoothly make your way back to your desks. Washington PD had finished the bureau required paperwork and had already left so things were much quieter.

You had just sat down when JJ looked up from her computer. “So Spence, whatcha gonna get?” His head snapped up and your cheeks flushed. “Wh-What?” he managed to stutter out. “From the diner? Garcia said she would run out and get dinner.” You both let out simultaneous sighs of relief and told her what you wanted, settling in for a long night.

The next weekend you had free, you found yourselves in one of your favorite spots. The low pitched buzzing added to Spencer’s anxiety as he tried to divert his focus to the bright neon signs. You held his hand, stroking it with your thumb as you waited for your tattoo artist and best friend, Vannessa, to finish Spencer’s design. You tried to distract him but before long she called you back to the table and you heard his breathing quicken. You helped him get settled on the table while Vannessa applied the stencil. She adjusted it until Spencer and you both approved and then she started. Spencer tightened his grip on your hand as she traced the lines while you murmured words of encouragement in his ear. Half an hour later, she was running Spencer through the after care process while wrapping his forearm up. You paid her and made your way out of the shop after thanking her.

Slipping into the driver’s seat, you watched as Spencer carefully maneuvered his way into the car, fastening his seatbelt and resting his arm against the door. The streetlight shining through his window highlighted his forearm perfectly, revealing the perfectly mimicked shape of a shaded black sun.

964 notes · View notes

rodr1cks · 3 years

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Hi! I don't know if your request are open, but I'd like to know if you could write a rodrick x reader where the reader is Rowley's sister and discovers her talking on the phone with a friend saying she's in love with Rodrick and tells Greg and he tells her that Rodrick has been in love with her for a long time and they try to put them together?

cw: none it’s pure fluff

word count: 1.8k

“I know! And he didn’t even apologize!” Greg ranted into the receiver.

“I’m sorry, Greg,” Rowley frowned, sympathetic nature as present as always. “Anyways, mom says dinner is ready, see you tonight?” Rowley’s tone lifted at the end of his sentence, excitement brewing as he thought about the sleepover he was meant to have with Greg later that evening.

You slid into the kitchen on your socks, just as Rowley was concluding his conversation with Greg.

Rowley sat anxiously through dinner, quickly consuming everything on his plate, including the vegetables. You observed him from across the table, cocking your head as your younger brother inhaled his peas like he hadn’t eaten in days.

He took his last bite before exclaiming, “I’m going to pack my stuff for Greg’s!”

Not without clearing his dishes first, of course.

You rolled your eyes at his charisma and headed into the living room. You slumped over on the couch, limbs splayed every which way as you called your friend, Marissa. You had been needing to gush to somebody about your newest crush, Rodrick Heffley.

You had only interacted with the messy haired boy in passing: family dinners, picking up Greg, dropping off Rowley, etc.

“I don’t know what it is, he’s just so- so- captivating. God, Mar, I swear I could watch him play drums for hours on end!”

Unbeknownst to you, Rowley had entered the room and was about to speak. You were too caught up in drooling over Rodrick to notice. “Hey, y/n-” He cut himself off quickly, curiosity getting the best of him.

“And did you see what he was wearing at Matt’s party? Those jeans? And that eyeliner? God I could just tear them-”

Rowley cleared his throat, unwilling to hear the rest. “Y/n can you take me to Greg’s, please?” He stood awkwardly with his lips pursed.

Your head whipped around faster than the speed of light. “Marissa, I gotta go.”

“Rowley, how much of that did you hear?”

He lied, something he wasn’t really good at, “Not much! I promise!”

“Rowley Jefferson you had better keep your mouth shut, or I swear I’ll-”

You stopped yourself, closing your eyes and drawing in a deep breath. “Just get in the car.” You breathed out in a scarily calm tone. Your red headed sibling nodded frantically out of fear and darted to the garage.

Usually, you would make him walk, but ever since your infatuation with Rodrick began, you were more eager to give him rides over there. The mere prospect of getting the slightest glance sending excitement throughout your entire being.

When you pulled up to the Heffley home, you gave him a final glare. “Say nothing.” He gave you the same shaky nod he gave you only moments ago. With that, he was bounding towards the front door. You made sure he got inside safely and drove off.

“Rowley? Everything okay?” Greg asked his friend, concerned with his behavior. Rowley couldn’t handle keeping secrets. His hands grew clammy and a slight sweat broke out on his forehead. Rowley had an uncomfortably fake smile plastered on his face as he tried to assure Greg that everything was just peachy.

All it took was one knowing look from Greg and Rowley broke.

“Alright, fine! I heard my sister talking to her friend about how hot Rodrick is and how she wants to-”

“Okay, okay! I get the picture!”

Greg took a moment to proceed, his brows furrowed as he brought a contemplative fist up to support his chin.

“Lemme get this straight. Your sister likes my brother?”

Rowley nodded slowly.

“Y/n likes Rodrick?”

Rowley nodded again, confirming Greg’s exclamations.

“But y/n is smart a-and hot!”

“Greg! Don’t say that!” Rowley groaned, rolling his head back in disgust. Greg threw both of his hands up in defense, “I’m just stating facts.”

“Wait, I have an idea.” A pit of dread grew in Rowley’s stomach, Greg’s ideas never turned out well.

“What if we set up y/n with Rodrick? Just hear me out, this could be good for him.”

Rowley mulled the idea over in his head, thinking that maybe dating you could make Rodrick more… agreeable? Maybe you could be a good influence on the intimidating teenager. A happier Rodrick would make sleepovers at Greg’s a lot more pleasant.

“I think that could work,” Rowley said apprehensively. “But how do we do it?”

Greg shrugged, “Simple, we just tell Rodrick there’s a really hot Girl interested in him.”

The boys proceeded to draw up a plan.

Phase one: The approach. Greg and Rowley nervously ascended the wooden steps that led to Rodrick’s room. Rodrick was laying on his back, spinning a drumstick between his nimble fingers.

He shot up immediately when he noticed the boys’ presence. “What are your dweebs doing up here?”

Phase two: Delivery. “Calm down Rodrick, we have some information you might wanna know,” Greg reasoned cooly, easing Rodrick’s anger from a roaring ten to a mild six.

Greg nodded over at Rowley, signaling him to start talking.

“W-well,” Rowley stuttered, “I uhm- heard my sister talking about you and she- she likes you and she was talking about your jeans?”

Rodrick blinked in confusion, processing this intel.

“Your sister likes me? Are you sure she meant me?”

“That’s what I said!” Greg exclaimed and Rodrick shot him a terrifying glare, silently telling Greg to can it.

Rodrick was honestly shocked. He always observed you from afar, deciding himself that a chick as cool as you would never go for him. This news was absolutely world shattering for the boy, he completely admired you.

Phase three: Action. “We have a plan.” Greg said, a conniving grin creeping onto his face. “Rowley calls y/n, tells her that he’s feeling sick and blames it on Mom’s pot roast or something. Then when she rushes over all worried, you greet her at the door. And then you work your Rodrick magic!” Greg smiled, abundant pride for his plan evident in his stature.

“It’s a go.” Rodrick declared, scrambling around his room to put on deodorant, a new t-shirt, and cologne before pointing at Rowley. “Make the call.”

“Hey, y/n,” Rowley groaned into the phone, sounding as sick as he possibly could. “I- I think I ate something bad and I really need you ro come get me.”

You sighed, telling him you’d be there in ten minutes and to have his things ready to go. You departed for the Heffley house for the second time that night.

When Rowley didn’t come out to your car, you trudged up to the red door to go retrieve the sickly boy.

You gave the door three lazy knocks, expecting Rowley’s face to be the one behind it when it swung open. “Hey kid, are you feeling okay?” You asked, not yet making eye contact with the figure leering in the doorframe.

Your eyes widened as you came to realize who it was.

“Funny seeing you here,” Rodrick drawled out, a smirk tugging at his lips. Your cheeks burned with the heat of one thousand suns, you were not expecting this tonight.

“Y-yeah,” you smiled awkwardly, staring at your feet. “Rowley called, he uhm, he’s not feeling well. So if you could just get him for me I can leave. Immediately.” You cursed yourself for your blubbering idiocy as you twiddled your fingers.

“Actually, Rowley is feeling much, much better.” Suspicion grew as you studied Rodrick’s devious expression. “What’s going on?” You asked, genuinely puzzled as nothing was making any sense.

“I don’t know, y/n. Why don’t you come in and tell me?” Rodrick was surprisingly smooth in this situation, despite his nerves being at an all time high.

“Rowley is just up here,” Rodrick said while guiding you up the stairs to his room. In the meantime, Greg and Rowley peered out from the hallway, watching you follow Rodrick upstairs and giggling to themselves.

The overhead lights in Rodrick’s room were turned on, the glow from his string lights illuminating the area instead. “Mood lighting,” as he had called it. Rodrick had already instructed the boys to stay far away once you had arrived.

You were still lost, Rowley nowhere in sight. “So? Where is he?” You asked expectantly.

“Here’s the thing y/n. You know Rowley can’t keep secrets, right? I mean you have to know that, he is your brother”

Shit.

“That little shit stain! I’ll get him, I swear to god!” You turned to bound down the stairs, ready to tear the entire house apart in hunting for him. Rodrick grabbed your wrist before your foot could even reach the first step.

“Y/n, relax, relax!” His grip on your flesh made your breath hitch and stomach churn. “It’s okay, I feel the same way.” Rodrick’s cocky facade dissipated into nothing as he revealed his feelings.

You got a glimpse of a more vulnerable side of Rodrick that you were sure he didn’t typically share. “But girls like you don’t usually like stupid guys like me,” Rodrick was staring at the ground now, grasp on your arm softening.

You were too unsure of your words so you opted to move your free hand to hold his bicep, closing a considerable amount of distance between the two of you in the process.

“Rodrick, I’ve never liked anybody as much as I like you. And I don’t mean that in a weird or creepy way it’s just that-”

Now it was time for Rodrick’s own addition to the plan. Phase four: The kiss.

Your rambling was cut short by a pair of warm lips pressing against your own. He kissed you with just enough force to cause you to stumble back a bit, causing you to brace yourself against his torso.

He carded a gentle hand through your hair and tugged back on your soft locks. You moaned at the vibrations tendrilling at your scalp and kissed him with even more ferocity.

Somehow, you ended up on his bed, straddling him. The blankets strewn across his mattress melded against your knees and the fronts of your calves as you stabilized yourself on his lap.

He placed apprehensive hands on your hip bones, unsure of what was okay and what wasn’t. You placed your hand on top of his larger one, assuring him that you were comfortable. You even allowed a small whimper to leave your throat as he tightened his hold on you.

You only pulled away to catch your breath, looking into his eyes for the first time that night. You smiled warmly at him as you cupped his cheek. Suddenly, Rodrick’s signature smirk returned to his face.

“Now tell me what you were saying about my jeans.”

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley fanfic #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid #devon bostick

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titularkilljoy · 3 years

Text

sometimes and always

//a love story in five acts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: It's hard to resist falling into bed with a cute neighbour, but it turns out it's even harder to resist falling for him. (alternatively- Spencer Reid and the reader struggle to resolve their feelings but make valiant attempts to do so while lying horizontally in each other's beds.)

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, strong language, decidedly non-American spelling conventions

Author's Note: SO. This fic was originally part of a fic swap for the wickedly talented @imagining-in-the-margins, but it is now over six months too late. Thankfully, patience apparently springs eternal in her?? besides all the other amazing things?? Unfair, but good for me. So, Pom, this one is for you. Thanks for being the absolute best and putting up with my rants and not judging me for mocking everything and everyone all the time. Love, Perpetually Tardy.

(i)

This is how it happened the first time.

I was frowning at the pitiful stack of mail in my hands, wondering if the conspicuously missing letters and subscriptions would ever be returned to me. Ever since moving to my new apartment, I had been at the mercy of the Postal System and that was never a good situation to be in. I’d resigned myself to having to take an extra trip back to my old building and do some investigating, when the elevator dinged and I stepped in. Just as the doors slid closed, there was the frantic rumble of footsteps and a hand slipping into the narrowing gap.

The doors sprang apart to let in the harried owner of the appendage, who barely spared me a glance before turning to face the front, eyes briefly darting to the buttons. It took me a second to recognise him. It was the guy from the apartment opposite to mine, although so far that seemed to be only a nominal living arrangement; in my two weeks there, I’d seen him exactly once, merely in passing, and we had exchanged a sum total of zero words.

I followed his lead and stopped blatantly staring at him, though I continued studying him covertly through my peripheral vision. He looked—well, his jawline looked like it could cut glass effortlessly and he had the soft chestnut hair of a male model and I knew I was probably going to develop a very embarrassing crush on him at some point— but besides that, he looked browbeaten, his whole posture seeming to buckle under the invisible weight of the world.

There was an awkward moment when he realised we were both heading in the same direction, and I took it upon myself to break the ice.

“Hi,” I greeted, introducing myself, “I just moved in. I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” I gave him my warmest smile.

His swift assessing glance would have escaped my notice if I hadn’t been paying such close attention; his expression was still shuttered off, but he offered an endearing little quirk of his lips and an introduction. “Spencer Reid. I’ve-uh, I’ve been away on a work thing.”

“Oh? What do you do?” I asked, beginning a leisurely walk down the hallway and fishing my keys out of my bag. I immediately regretted the query when, impossibly, his eyes became even more guarded.

“I’m an FBI agent.”

Well, that clipped admission would have given anyone pause. “Oh, wow. That’s really impressive, dude.”

“Thanks.” He hesitated before adding, “I’m part of the Behavioural Analysis Unit.”

“So, you’re like a psychologist?”

“I catch serial killers.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable so much as it was brimming with my insecurities. The alcohol in my blood helped with that, though; the next words were out of my mouth before I even registered the thought.

“Do you want to come in?”

“Oh, uh—”

He was going to say no.

“It’s just that you look like you could use some company. And I think it’s absolutely criminal that we haven’t gotten to know each other yet.”

“It’s really late.”

But he was rocking forwards on his toes just the tiniest bit, leading me to believe that some part of him did want to take me up on my offer that night.

“So it is. Come on, Agent Reid. Be a good neighbour.”

“It’s Doctor, actually,” he corrected. “Doctor Reid. I have Ph.Ds. Three of them.”

My eyebrows had risen to my hairline and, sensing the change in the air, he hurried to put me at ease. “But you can just call me Spencer.”

“Huh. You don’t hear that every day.” I chuckled sheepishly. “Well, come on in, Doctor.”

There was a moment when his whole body leaned towards me and his face looked conflicted but slightly enthusiastic, and I was convinced I could turn the night into a very pleasant one for both of us. Then, with a loud clatter, my keys slipped from my hands, startling us. The moment was broken, and I sighed in resignation.

“Let me guess, you’ve decided I’m too drunk and we’re going to go our separate ways.”

At least he had the good grace to look apologetic. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now,” he told me slowly as he bent down to pick up my keys and pressed them securely into my outstretched hand, “It’s late and I’ve had a long day. I’ll...see you around?”

“Sure,” I managed to say with a regretful smile, “I’m holding you to that.”

*~*

That, however, turned out to be easier said than done, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was the Herculean feat of unpacking and organising my new place with a mild hangover and a tinge of frustration over lost opportunities looming over me. Once that was dealt with, the bigger challenge turned out to be actually locating the man in question. I knocked on his door a few times, but when the responding silence continued to persist for over a week, I began to think he’d just been a drunken hallucination in the first place. And the longer I went without any follow-up interactions, the more intensely I started overthinking the slightly fuzzy memory of our brief conversation.

Of course I’d managed to make a fool of myself in front of a really cute guy. That was absolutely in character for me. Every time I passed by his door, I convinced myself a little more that I owed him a sincere apology for my poor, inconsiderate conduct.

Beyond the embarrassment, however, work didn’t leave me much time to think about it, and by the time I was trudging to my apartment the next Saturday, the whole encounter had been relegated firmly to the back burner. Naturally, that was when the faint glow of light under his door distracted me from the very passive-aggressive email I was composing. I hesitated.

The deep breaths I sucked in didn’t serve much more purpose than to make me somewhat lightheaded, but I forged on anyway. I knocked on the door, and waited.

There was silence, followed by the sound of reluctantly shuffling feet, and then, finally, I was face to face with Spencer Reid once again.

“Um,” I started, “hi.”

He stared at me wordlessly for a beat, during which I started to wonder if he’d actually forgotten me already.

“So, we met the other day, and I just want to apologise. I didn’t mean to come on to you so strongly, and I get that you weren’t int-”

“Do you want to come inside?”

“..What?”

“Do you want to come inside?” he repeated, enunciating clearly. That didn’t clear up my confusion, though.

“Um. Yes? Sure. I mean, no, shouldn’t we talk about this a bit?”

He let out a tired laugh. “I don’t want to talk right now.”

“Alright,” I said, biting my lip. I followed him inside, and pushed the door closed behind me; it emitted an innocuous little click as it fell shut.

There was something about the weariness behind his eyes and the careful set of his jaw that made me want to study him and understand what was going through his head, but all I could glean that night was that Spencer didn’t seem amenable to much time spent on documentation.

“So,” I began unsurely, shedding my jacket and scanning the contents of the room, the piles upon piles of books and the distinct lack of much else, “tell me about yourself.”

“Didn’t I already do that?”

“Hmm, that’s not the whole story,” I mumbled, running my fingers over a broken-spined, wrinkled copy of Paradise Lost laid open on a heavy wooden desk. A single smudge of blue ink stood out against the yellowing page, and beside it, the print read: This horror will grow mild, this darkness light. “You’re not just an FBI agent.”

“That’s all that’s important,” he asserted, taking a step towards me. He had one eye on my curiously wandering fingers and, sensing that it was making him more antsy than he needed to be, I tucked my hands into my back pockets, facing him with a grin of false bravado. I really wished I was drunk. That would have made things infinitely easier.

“Besides,” he continued, this time meeting my eyes directly, “I don’t know anything about you either.”

“Fair enough,” I conceded, stepping closer to him.

His eyes didn’t leave mine, until my own strayed to the bobbing curve of his throat and the tantalising motion of his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. Not for the first time that week, I wondered how terrible of an idea it would be to try to kiss my attractive neighbour. I could see my own apprehensions mirrored in his stance, and I saw the exact moment when he identified the focus of my gaze.

I didn’t have to spend much time contemplating. He decided, just as I did, that any consequences of this impulsive decision could be dealt with later.. I lunged for him just as he closed the distance in one long stride, grasping my jaw in both his hands. Then we were firmly attached at the lips, and his arms wrapped around my waist and dragged me closer, seemingly intent on devouring my mouth. Gradually, our actions slowed a bit, the kiss turning softer and more exploratory, our tongues winding around each other gently, my lungs readily accepting his deep, nasal sigh.

His arms around my waist were a steadily spreading band of warmth, and I could feel the growing evidence of his arousal against my thigh. I found myself thinking I could be very happy with just kissing him like this, feeling his breaths tickle my face, letting my hands suffer minute pinpricks from the stubble littering his jaw. But then his grip shifted to my hips and tightened ever so slightly, and it was like I’d been doused with fuel and set alight. My fingers struggled to unbutton his shirt as he pressed distracting kisses along my neck, my soft whimpers breaking the relative silence of the room.

All of a sudden, the ground shifted and my stomach swooped, and it took a second or two before I realised I was now in his arms, being carried towards, presumably, his bedroom. Content, I got to work on undoing the last button and trying to slip the shirt down his arms entirely. He granted me a chuckle for my troubles before laying me down gently on our destination and taking it off himself.

He didn’t waste any time in sinking his knees into the soft mattress on either side of my legs, helping me out of my own clothes and methodically kissing every bit of newly exposed skin, until finally, I was clad only in flimsy cotton and he was nosing at my aching core. With two fingers, he deftly removed the last of my defences and pressed his mouth against me. I moaned, my hands flying to his hair and trying to keep from pulling too hard as he used his tongue to examine every inch of my arousal, evidently experimenting based on the sounds he managed to elicit from me.

“Oh, my God,” I babbled, hips bucking wildly under the iron grip holding them down.

“Tell me,” he demanded, pulling away slightly, “tell me how much you like it.”

“Spencer,” I breathed desperately, “Please. I need- I need more.”

He hummed leisurely against me, frustrating me to no end. My grip in his hair tightened at last, guiding him where I needed him most, and I swear I felt his lips stretch into a smile.

It went on for what felt like hours, but there was no earthly way I could have lasted that long. He took mercy on me eventually, plunging two long fingers deep inside me, closing his lips around the bundle of nerves that, predictably, sent me into a violent, shaking climax. He nursed me patiently through the aftershocks, waiting till my legs had stilled before rising to undo his belt and rid himself of his pants. I was already mourning the loss of his closeness, and I pulled him back on top of me the moment he was within reach.

“Come on, Doctor,” I taunted, “It’s time you made good on your promise and got to the main event.”

“I never promised anything,” he retorted, but the playful glint in his eyes excited me, and while he reached over beside us to the nightstand, I rose to the occasion.

“Oh? Well, if you don’t want to, I guess I’ll just head out, then,” I teased, going so far as to attempt to sit up from underneath him. I felt a low, threatening sound begin in his chest and make its way up his throat as his hands gripped my wrists and brought them down to my sides, pinning me in place.

It was my turn to chuckle at his eagerness, lifting my head to briefly peck him on his lips.

“Don’t worry, Spencer,” I cooed, “I’m not going anywhere. Now fuck me already.”

“With pleasure,” came the response, and while I wondered idly how a smirk could simultaneously be sinister and bashful, there was the sharp sound of crinkling foil, and then he cut off my thoughts by entering me in one fluid motion.

“Fuck!” I cried out, holding him around the shoulders, bringing him impossibly closer.

“That’s it,” he groaned in my ear, “let me hear you.”

He set a torturous rhythm, thrusting into me harshly before pulling out slowly, carefully, making me relish the sensation, anticipation building steadily in the pit of my stomach and spreading until it engulfed me. A ceaseless litany of moans and whimpers filled the air around us, the source of each barely discernible. At last, I could feel myself riding the very precipice, and his name began to fall from my lips like a prayer.

“Spencer,” I called, “Spenc-”

He swallowed the rest of my inconsequential cries, bringing his thumb to where we were joined to guide me over the edge, and as I convulsed around him soundlessly, he reached his own climax, blunt fingernails leaving crescent marks on my hips, his heavy panting breaths stuttering, once, against my clavicle, before calming and slowly evening out.

We stayed that way for a few minutes, my hand combing lightly through his hair, his closed-mouth kisses pressing against my neck like a balm. Eventually, though, we had to move, and it was he who did first. He pulled out and walked away from the bed without looking at me, tossing the tied-up condom in the trash. I sat up, cross-legged, watching him for a bit, pursing my lips when I noticed he was actively avoiding my gaze.

I cleared my throat. “Where’s your bathroom?”

He pointed in a general direction and mumbled something incoherent; sighing in disappointment, I stood up gingerly and went to clean myself up. When I returned, the room still smelled like sex, and Spencer was still evasive, but he was sitting on the edge of the bed now. He looked up when I entered, watching me pick up my clothes.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

I glanced over at him. “Yeah, I’m good. You?”

Nodding, he watched me get dressed, then followed me into the living room and watched me drape my jacket over my arm. Then he watched me walk to the door, all the while not saying a word.

The cool steel of the doorknob in my hand, I looked over my shoulder one more time.

“Well, Spencer. You know where to find me, I guess,” I muttered, shaking my head slightly. Then I left his apartment, and despite the enormity of what had transpired during my visit, the click of the door closing sounded exactly the same.

(ii)

Of course, after that, I resolved it would never happen again. The man next door clearly had some issues with what we had done, and I couldn’t be bothered to solve them. It was, frankly, idiotic to jeopardise the prospect of good neighbours in favour of sex, however great it might have been.

It was embarrassing how quickly my resolution packed its bags and jumped out of my third-storey window.

I was awoken the next morning by three firm raps on my door. I think I knew, somehow, who was trying to get my attention, so I took my time, but the reveal of Spencer’s regretful face didn’t surprise me any less. I was wary as I stared at him wordlessly, cycling through all the possible reasons for his visit, and his eyes dropped to the way my arms tightly hugged my midsection. He winced then, meeting my eyes.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” he blurted, and it sounded so rehearsed that I had to stifle a guffaw. There was a flicker of something in his eyes that could have been frustration, but he powered through. “I’ve had a pretty terrible week at work and I think I was trying to get something out of my head. But I was awful to you, and it was completely my fault. I’m sorry if I offended you. I had...a great time.”

I’d been watching him carefully throughout his speech, and if he was faking the earnestness in those last couple of lines, he was an extraordinary actor. I concluded, as I studied the apologetic slump of his shoulders and the dark bags into which his eyes had sunken, that I didn’t need to worry about the veracity of his words.

“It’s okay,” I said hesitantly. “I mean, no, it’s not okay, it felt really awful, but thanks for explaining. I get it now.”

“Oh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking off to the side, “that’s great. Thank you.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

“Problem?” I was bemused.

“No!” He was looking back at me, now. “I- well, to be honest, I wasn’t expecting it to be this easy. I thought I’d have to convince you.”

“Huh. Well, you can still convince me, Doctor. Give me a second to get ready. You’re buying me breakfast.”

I quite liked the shy smile that graced his face in response.

*~*

It kept happening. There was no way I could have stopped it, and there was no reason I would have wanted to.

We quickly grew into a familiar rhythm. Each time, it started with one of us having a particularly stressful day. Each time, it started with a knock on the door and some perfunctory shuffling around. Before wasn’t the time for talking. Each time, we’d stumble into whichever surface was closest, and every time it wasn’t the bed, Spencer would make some halfhearted protests about germs and hygiene, before I shut him up very effectively with a manicured hand on his dick. Each time, in the During, I marvelled at how well we fit together, how quickly we’d learned each other’s bodies, and each time, I saw more of him than I had the last.

And I loved every bit of it.

Spencer no longer retreated into his shell in the After. He’d try sometimes, but I knew how to coax him out, now. I’d slip my hand into his, ever so gently, and wait. Or I’d sling one arm around his waist until he returned the embrace. I was getting scarily good at reading him. It was like working on an intricate puzzle, and every new achievement was rewarded with a deeper, longer look into his mind.

I carefully stored away every casual anecdote about someone from work or his godson or his mother, and I loved to watch the life burn bright in his eyes. Of course, they were all happy stories. I could sense the bittersweet aftertaste they left in his mouth, but he never let me inspect it too closely. In turn, I regaled him with tales of my own, of my sister and my parents, of my cat that was perpetually falling asleep on top of me. I told him all the easy, palatable things, holding back just as much as he did, always careful to maintain the wall of superficiality.

But things did slip through the cracks every once in a while, from both of us-- they were bound to, what with the sheer amount of time we spent together in various states of undress. Things that made me burn with curiosity that couldn’t be sated without jeopardising the very foundation of our arrangement. So I turned a blind eye to the jagged scars on his thigh and neck when he failed to maneuver to hide them; in return, he kept mum when I walked into his apartment, on the day of my worst professional disaster, with runny makeup and bloodshot eyes, shivering all over.

If he noticed that I kissed the skin over his scars a little more tenderly, lavishing attention on him the first time I saw them, he didn’t show it. If he liked the way I always nuzzled my face into the one on his neck when we were done, he didn’t show it.

For my part, I tried very hard not to read into the slow, shallow thrusts or the almost reverent way he handled me when my tears still hadn’t dried. I definitely did not read into the arm over my shoulder or the slightly baffled crease in his brow while we sat on his couch with a random episode of The Office.

And if, maybe, the frequency of his visits increased as the months went by, who could blame him? He was an FBI agent. He probably had a lot of bad days.

Sometimes, though, I’d go over when I’d had a good day and I felt like celebrating. Sometimes, I’d knock on his door just because I was bored and I wanted to see him. It wasn’t as if he would know the difference. Our bodies knew how to be around each other, and that was all that mattered.

This was just stress relief, after all.

(“Have you ever been in love?” I asked him once, abruptly, my heart still pounding as the sweat cooled on our skins.

He glanced at me warily, but he must have detected only honest curiosity on my face, not lovesickness or anything else that would have had him running for the hills.

He chewed on his lip for a moment. “Once.”

“What happened?” My finger traced an aimless pattern on his chest.

“She loves me,” he said, “but she isn’t in love with me.”)

We never articulated any feelings we may or may not have about each other or our situation. We dodged sincere conversation like it would kill us. So all the pieces we owned of each other were ones that we had been remiss in guarding diligently. That only made them all the more precious.

But on the heels of every stolen glance, there was a moment where he looked right through me, where I felt blank and insubstantial, like I was a placeholder for something or someone, and that would be enough for the wall to be between us again, rigid and unrelenting.

It was a shame that I was stupid enough to hold on to the scraps that fell through anyway.

(iii)

I was an immensely stupid person.

That was the only explanation for why I was leaning against the outer wall of our apartment building at three in the morning, desperately shoving my hands into my coat pockets to brace against the cold.

“You don’t have to be here.”

Can he read minds now? I wondered sullenly. Spencer was sitting on the front steps, with his head in his hands. His hair was dishevelled, and his eyes were the picture of torment. I would have loved to console him, but every attempt so far had been firmly rebuffed.

He had knocked on my door an hour ago and silenced my greeting with a bruising kiss. Of course, I knew how to do that dance, but Spencer had been off his rhythm tonight. When I’d reached for his shirt, he’d pushed my arms away. When I had kissed his jaw, he'd flinched. When I’d finally retreated in concern to ask him what was wrong, he had huffed out that he was perfectly fine, before trying to lift my shirt over my head.

I’d pushed him onto the bed and tried to distract him, and he had responded by clenching the sheets in his fists instead of grabbing my hips. I’d whispered his name in his ear the way he usually loved, and he’d climbed out from under me, sitting up on the bed with his chest heaving. At that point, I’d given up. What had followed was an exercise in patience.

(“Spencer, what’s wrong?” I’d asked again, to no avail.

“It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it,” he’d gritted out, glaring at me.

I’d sighed. “Okay, which is it? Nothing, or that you don’t want to talk about it?”

Silence.

“Well something is clearly bothering you. Am I just supposed to ignore that?”

“We don’t need to talk about anything.” He’d tried to kiss me again. That time, I was the one who pushed him away.

“No, Spencer, this isn’t working. I don’t think we should do this tonight.”

The glare had intensified. “Fine.” He’d gotten up and tried to put his shirt back on, but his hands were shaking.

Cursing my investment in this man, I’d helped him while he stared daggers at me. When he’d hunted down his shoes and made his way out of my apartment, I’d pulled on my coat and followed, petting my cat briefly when he tried to follow us.)

So now we were outside, experiencing the most awkward silence ever known to man. Every time I attempted to put a hand on his shoulder or sit beside him, he would tense up yet again.

“Yes, Spencer,” I replied at length, “I do. You look like you might accidentally walk into traffic. I’m not leaving.”

“It’s not your problem.” The petulance was beginning to get on my nerves. I hadn’t signed up for sleepless weeknights.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” I told him, shrugging.

I pulled out my phone to distract myself with the cute animals in my game. Spencer was still worryingly silent. But if he didn’t want to talk to me and he wouldn’t let me near him, there was little I could do but stand there.

Every now and then, his breathing would hitch, and I would study him out of the corner of my eye. Whether he fully registered my presence or not, I was unsure, but he seemed to be calming down. He looked less on edge, his eyes less wild, and I was about to approach him and try again, when a black car pulled up just ahead of us.

Both our heads jerked to attention, but the petite blonde who exited the car only had eyes for Spencer.

“Spence!” She rushed to him, pulling him into a hug that he slowly reciprocated. “Your phone is off. After what happened, I was so worried,” she murmured into his hair, her eyes shut in relief.

And Spencer-- Spencer’s face was something to behold. His eyes were tightly closed, his lips turned down unhappily, and his face was so naked and open that I almost looked away. Almost. The pain that shone there riveted me. I felt as if I could see every wound he had ever suffered, in that instant. He’d never shown me that before. And he still hadn’t-- this wasn’t for me. The embrace broke, but his face stayed the same while the woman fussed over him.

Something came back to me, a fragment of a memory. She loves me but she isn’t in love with me. Unbidden, a sound of realisation escaped my throat, drawing two pairs of eyes to the dark corner in which I had been so far obscured.

Spencer schooled his face back to some semblance of normalcy, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Uh, JJ, this is--”

“Leaving,” I blurted out, then cleared my throat. “I was just leaving. Work in the morning. Nice to meet you.” I tried to smile at her, but it felt more like a pained grimace.

I brushed past both of them, but hesitated on the top step. “Spencer…”

His gaze was inscrutable, and I was too tired to try to decipher it.

“Feel better,” I mumbled, and then I left them there.

*~*

I was not sulking.

I told myself this as I lounged on the couch in my most comfortable pyjamas, stuffing my face with junk food and watching Michael Scott lament his foot injury.

So what if Spencer was in love with a beautiful blonde while getting him to talk to me was like pulling teeth? It wasn’t like I’d been carrying a torch for him. We were just extremely compatible sexually. And in very close proximity to each other. That put us in the ideal position to hook up whenever we needed it. That was the extent of our relationship. For all I knew, he’d been sleeping with other people this whole time. I hardly had the right to protest it if he had. We hadn’t set up rules. We just fell into bed together as and when we liked.

It was a good, uncomplicated thing.

So I needed to make sense of whatever needless jealousy I was feeling, before I ruined it. I couldn’t sit around being pathetic. I had a life.

There was a knock on the door.

Sighing, I turned off the TV and put the snacks away. Spencer was quiet as I let him in. His eyes roamed the small living room as if he didn’t know his way around my place as well as he did his own. I perched on the arm of the couch and stared at him, hoping my face didn’t betray the rollercoaster of emotions I’d experienced over the last forty-eight hours.

“So,” I started, “you okay?”

He looked a bit startled, as if he hadn’t expected me to address it at all. I tried not to roll my eyes.

“Yeah. I’m alright.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I prompted, “It was pretty intense.”

“It-uh, it was a work thing. JJ helped me out.”

Of course she did. “Great,” I said aloud.

We looked at each other for a beat. “She’s the one, isn’t she?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

“What?”

“The one you’re in love with?”

There was a telltale spot of red high on his cheeks, even as he sputtered. “That’s not-- I mean, yes, but that was--”

“It’s fine,” I said cheerily. “I was just curious.”

He frowned at me. “She’s my best friend, it’s not--”

“No, I get it.” My stomach was somewhere near my feet. “So, do you wanna fuck?”

Again, he seemed taken aback. “What?”

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” I directed my gaze at his meticulously polished shoes.

“No.” A pause. “I just wanted to say-- would you look at me for a second?”

I forced myself to comply.

“I, uh, I wanted to thank you. For staying with me the other night.” The sincerity in his eyes was a bit too much to bear at the moment.

I hadn’t done anything, and I told him as much.

“You didn’t have to. Just being there was more than enough.”

“Right,” I said hollowly. “So is that it?”

“Yeah.” He seemed very lost. “Um, are you okay?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re acting kind of strange.”

“That’s because there isn’t usually this much talking,” I snapped.

I longed to smooth out the lines on his face and make him feel at ease again. This was supposed to be the good, uncomplicated thing. He was apparently making an effort. I could return the favour.

“I’m sorry,” I said, letting out a deep breath and rubbing a hand over my face. “Can I get you something to drink? We can talk about it if you want. Or just hang out.” I tried to squash down the hope that bloomed in my chest.

“Oh. Sure, if that’s okay.” He was chewing on his lip again, and it was unfairly appealing.

And so he stayed. I got two mugs of coffee, and when I came back, he was on my couch reading a well-worn paperback, as if he belonged there. I had to agree with the thought. When he heard me enter the room, he looked up with a smile.

When he left three hours later, I couldn’t remember what we’d talked about or the name of the book he’d abandoned within minutes, but I remembered the way he’d leaned close to me while gesturing wildly with his hands, and I remembered that we hadn’t touched beyond accidental brushes of our fingers the entire time.

He still hadn’t revealed the source of his despair, and I knew there was someone he loved. I knew whatever this was, it would be temporary.

But the smile on my face as I closed the door was real.

(v)

Spencer kept coming over. I was never given the chance to initiate contact because it seemed like he was always at my place. Whenever he was in the city, he would be with me. I started to worry about his apartment gathering cobwebs from the disuse. But I couldn’t honestly complain about this new development.

Sometimes we had sex, and sometimes we didn’t. Sometimes he came in sore and tired, other times he was brimming with excitement with a playful grin. Sometimes he was angry at the world and I was allowed to coax him down from his rage. Those nights were in turn infuriating and thrilling.

(“What happened?”

“Work.”

“That’s really helpful, Spencer, care to elucidate?”

“No.”

“Okay, caveman.”

“Shut up and take off your clothes.”

I’d rolled my eyes and complied.)

I enjoyed every bit of him. I wanted to observe and chart every one of his moods and his little quirks. I loved the small pile of his books that had found their way onto the coffee table. I loved introducing him to pop culture that he approached with the same diligence as he would a textbook of quantum physics. He was an eager student, and I attempted to return the favour whenever he launched into his obscure tirades.

Some nights I would drowsily let him in and he would crawl into bed with me, fully clothed. The following mornings, I would wake up with a silly grin on my face, seeing him utterly relaxed and at peace. We’d have breakfast in my kitchen and slowly come awake together over our steaming mugs of coffee.

It was fun, learning him.

In the dead of night, as I was drifting off to sleep, he would tell me bits and pieces of horrible things he’d had to see. All I could offer him then was a tight, protective embrace and a steady gaze as the words clawed their way out of his reluctant throat. It felt like he was giving me some sort of twisted boon, these revelations of his pain. I collected them just as carefully as I did everything else. If it was a part of him that was freely given, I knew I wanted it.

At intervals, I would have to remind myself that he wasn’t truly emotionally available. It wasn’t hard. I only had to picture JJ’s relieved smile and the raw uncloaked expression on his face that I had never seen again. He mentioned her every now and then, and I’d discovered that his godson was her child. He never seemed upset, talking about her family, but he wasn’t the kind of man who would resent another’s happiness, even if it was at the expense of his own. I knew that now. I still remembered the way he would pull away from me and flinch at my touch, and I knew I was playing a losing game. There was no way out of this where I didn’t get hurt. All I could do was try to control it.

Three months after that night outside our building, I knew I’d fallen for him.

I was in trouble and I needed to do something about it, quickly. So I stopped preemptively cancelling plans with my friends and coworkers. I joined a book club. I called in a guy to loudly fix my bathroom sink the day I knew Spencer would be getting home. I even got a gym membership. I tried to be away from home as much as I could.

Whenever Spencer texted me, I would let him know I was unavailable. His texts got progressively more frustrated. Watching the excitement on his face dim when I turned him away at my door was painful. But it was necessary. I convinced myself that when Spencer and I stopped existing in this vacuum without other people, my feelings would weaken and I would be able to get him out of my head.

It didn’t work, of course, and I spent every day missing him. I tried to distract myself with work and my suddenly-full schedule, but the feelings were still there. Try as I might, I couldn’t stop thinking of him every morning and every night, and every time I passed his door and every time I walked by a bookstore.

So when Neil from work asked me out a week later, I said yes.

I wore a nice dress and heels, and he picked me up. We went to a midscale restaurant and talked about boring first-date things, and I knew within the first fifteen minutes that I didn’t want to see him again. I went through the motions, smiled pleasantly at him, and told him I would take a cab home. When I walked dejectedly up to my apartment, it took me a second to realise what I was looking at. My heart leapt and I dropped my keys.

Spencer was sitting on the floor outside my door, and he looked tireder and older than I’d ever seen him. He had looked up at my approach. I froze.

“Spencer.” I hadn’t seen him in a month.

He looked me up and down, and there was an unhappy tilt to his mouth. I wanted to kiss it away. He reached for the keys and rose to his feet.

“Hi.” He held them out to me, and I wanted to laugh and the eerie reflection of our first meeting.

“Hi,” I echoed.

“Were you on a date?”

There was no point in lying to him. “Yes.”

He looked away, his jaw clenching.

Silently, I unlocked the door and held it open. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked in.

He paced the floor of my living room. I took off my shoes and put my keys on the table, waiting for him to speak. I felt out of sorts and unprepared for what was to come. Even when I heard him come to a halt, I didn’t lift my gaze to meet his.

“Why would you-- I thought we had something.” His tone was heavy with accusation.

I stared back at him in challenge. “Sure. We had something. But I didn’t want to fool myself into thinking it was more than it was.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Us! You. You send me all these mixed signals, and I know you’re still hung up on someone else but I let myself get in too deep anyway. I had to protect myself.”

“I’m not hung up on someone else,” he shouted, raising his hands in frustration.

“Of course you are!” I matched his volume. “You told me so yourself.”

“When did I do that?” He sounded honestly bewildered.

“A few months ago. You said you were in love with someone but she didn’t love you back. And then I saw you with JJ that day. I know it’s her. It’s okay. You didn’t promise me anything.”

Feeling drained, I wrapped my hands around my middle. The tears were threatening to fall, but I tried to hold them at bay. This would be over soon. It all would.

“JJ--” he barked out a laugh, surprising me.

“What about this situation is funny to you?” I demanded.

“No, listen--”

“You’re hot and you’re cold. You kick me out right after our first time and then you’re sweet the next day. How do you want me to feel about that?”

“I’m sorry about-”

“Trying to talk to you is impossible! I want to help you. But you clearly don’t want to talk to me!”

“That’s not--”

“And then you’re over here all the time, and I get that it’s because you want to distract yourself, but you have to know how it would con--”

“God, would you just shut up and listen to me for once?”

I glared up at him. He was undeterred, a strange glint in his eyes.

“I love you,” he informed me, striking me dumb. “It took me a while to realise it, but it’s true. I love you.”

All I could do was gape at him as he walked closer to me and took my tightly clenched fists in his hands. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was holding back. I’m trying to be better. And I don’t know what you thought you saw between me and JJ,” he said very slowly, stroking his thumbs gently over my palms, “but all that’s there is a lot of trauma and shared experiences. Yes, I thought I loved her once, but that was a long time ago. We’ve never-- she’s not you.”

Traitorously, that tendril of hope began to coil around my heart again as I searched his face, looking for a trace of a lie.

I found none.

I surged forward, crashing my lips to his with no finesse and too much force, but he was ready for me, releasing my hands and cradling my waist instead. I gripped his hair, letting the tears spill at last, an overjoyed laugh bubbling out of my throat and into his mouth. I let my hands roam the hard plane of his body, the delicious ripple of wiry muscle beneath his shirt, the hidden softness that only I could feel.

“I love you,” I told him when we broke apart for air. “I’m glad I can tell you, I love you, I fucking love you.” Spencer grinned down at me, and the look was so fond I had to kiss him again.

The rest was a blur of hastily discarded clothes and the steadfastly ignored pain of knocking into furniture before we finally found my bed and tumbled into it.

(“All this time, I could have had you,” I groaned into his ear while he thrust his fingers into me, mouthing along my jaw.

“You have me,” he promised into my skin an eternity later, when he was inside me and my nails were scrambling for purchase along his back, my vision going white.)

That night, there were no painful confessions or taunting insecurities. There were just the two of us, blissfully entwined together, and the deepest of dreamless sleeps. Somewhere in the middle of falling out and falling back together, we had found our new rhythm.

.fin.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #mgg #matthew gray gubler

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marvels-writings · 3 years

Text

Choices

Yelena Belova Masterlist

Requested by Anon: How about Yelena and R getting in an argument and Nat comforts reader and they cuddle platonically but Yelena comes in the room and sees them in bed together and is fuming and lots of angst and maybe Yelena says something like “I’ve been second best to Nat my entire life” like how Amy March said that to Laurie

Word Count: 2.5k (longish and angsty)

A/N: I love love LOVED writing this, I love this scene from little women and I adored including it in this fic, i genuinely think you’re going to love it

"Hey baby," You greeted, smiling when you saw your girlfriend standing on the balcony of your room. Yelena hummed in response, her shoulder leaning against the door frame. She didn't turn around to face you, her gaze fixed on the cars outside.

Frowning at her lack of response, you walked over to where she was standing. The cold breeze danced along with the curtains, flowing near your bare feet. Goosebumps formed along your skin, you tried to put your feet in the sun to warm them up.

Yelena remained silent, watching you fidget beside her. Her eyes shifted to where your hand was fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Her gaze trailed up to the bandaged gash on your arm, staring at the spots of blood seeping through. She blinked in surprise when you spoke, interrupting the silence.

"Is something wrong?" You asked timidly, trying to play off your injury.

You turned slightly so she couldn't see your arm. Her eyes met yours, raising an eyebrow at the question. You sighed, running your hand lightly over the bandage on your arm.

"Lena, it's fine." You assured her, trying to smile up at her. You hoped it might be enough to crack even the smallest of smiles out of her. But she remained cold, staring at your injury. You held your arm behind her back, moving a step closer to her.

"It's fine." You tried again, reaching your healthy hand forwards to take hers. Yelena flinched away as if you'd burned her, taking in a harsh breath before moving away from you. She huffed as she sat down on the bed, turning to look down at her hands. You slowly moved to sit beside her, opening your mouth to speak before you heard her voice.

"It's not fine." She muttered angrily, quiet enough that you had to strain to hear her. Sitting down next to her, you moved your left arm away so she couldn't see it. You tried to take her hand again, sighing as she moved away from you as quickly as before.

"It was just an accident." You tried, hoping she would see the situation the way you saw it. But she didn't, frowning and turning her head to glare at you. You winced under her gaze, biting your lip tightly before looking away.

It truly was an accident. You were training with knives, Natasha was teaching you close combat. You didn't know how it happened, one moment you were training with her, the next she was clutching a towel tightly to your forearm and calling medical over to you.

Yelena hadn't been there, busy on a mission while you were bleeding. She only saw you now, having heard about the incident from Natasha the second she arrived. She didn't go to see you, rather returning to the room you shared with her, staring out the balcony.

"There shouldn't be accidents where you get hurt," Yelena whispered angrily, her voice lower than you were used to hearing it. She hurried off the bed, pacing in front of the bed, her hands hastily pulling out the ponytail in her hair before retying it.

"Lena," You tried again, hoping the nickname you called her by might soften her. "Accidents happen, it's alright."

Her glare towards you hardened, her hands running through the tangled hair in her ponytail. Your comment made it worse, you winced as she stopped pacing. A lecture on your safety began, all over again. Another lecture on how you were careless with your safety, reckless for no cause, getting hurt for no reason.

You thought there might eventually be a time when you'd get enough of these lectures. But after every single incident, every mission has gone slightly south. Worry was fine, even overprotectiveness, but this? This was exhausting.

"I don't need my flaws to be pointed out all the time." You hissed, interrupting her heated rant about your flaws. She flinched at your tone, frowning and stepping back from you. Her arms crossed over her chest defensively, tilting her head in anger.

"If there weren't so many," Yelena said, raising her eyebrow. Words spilled from her before she had a chance to stop them. Regrets always came before she could stop them.

"I wouldn't have to."

You drew back, your harsh facade falling at her words. Turning away from her, your arms wrapped tightly around your midsection, hiding the flaws you were so sure she hated. You recoiled into yourself, clenching your jaw as if her words had physically hurt you.

Getting up, you quickly tried to leave the room, missing the way she had regretted her words and tried to follow you out. In your haste to leave, you didn't notice the tears in her eyes were identical to yours. The door slammed shut behind you as you hurried away from her.

Your feet padded across the ground, nearing the door to Natasha's room. Unsure where else to go, you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt as you thought it over. There wasn't anywhere else in the compound you wanted to go. anywhere else you would face pity and questions, this was the only place devoid of either.

Raising your hand to knock, you moved back in surprise when the door opened. Your eyes widened when Natasha stood there, concerned and a little worried at your state. Without needing an explanation, she opened the door wider for you to come in.

Grateful for the silence, you stepped inside, fidgeting nervously in the center of her room. The redhead closed the door behind her with a soft click, waiting for you to explain. She sat down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, patting the space next to her.

"What happened?"

It was all it took for explanations and apologies to fall from you. You sat down beside her only to be clutching onto her while you held your tears back. Words and hopes continued to spill even while she tried to comfort you. Her touch and her words helped you calm down enough to see the situation.

You weren't at fault, not entirely, Yelena should have backed off when she saw you were upset. This wasn't an issue big enough to fight over, let alone leave her over. You wanted to make up with her, but her words still rang in your mind when you tried to leave Nat's room.

Instead, you stayed the night, seeking comfort in your friend rather than Yelena. Her hands ran through your hair as you slept, providing you with the comfort you needed to soothe you from your nightmares. All the while you found some peace, Yelena remained alone.

The bed was far too empty without you for her to even consider resting in it. She wouldn't let herself outside the room, scared she might see you again. Scared you might say something which would hurt her far more than she hurt you.

It was never her intention to hurt you, let alone make you upset enough to leave. She could hardly help it when you were hurt, let alone when she wasn't there with you. a part of her was always scared that her abrupt absences would eventually force you away from her.

Her absence was solely to clear her past, it was never more important than you. It was that she found it hard to rest when there was still something to be done to relieve her of the chains of her past. She couldn't find it in herself to live in this delightful dream of love you created when she still saw herself as a monster.

Apologies still needed to be made. Not now, not when she could barely look herself in the mirror, not when you didn't even wish to be in her presence. For the morning she would wait, till she could share her fears without the worry of your absence.

As the morning light leaked into her room, she met it with a sense of dread. Yelena dragged her feet over to your room, fidgeting with her shirt as she stood in front of Natasha's closed door. She knew it was where you would go, where you would seek comfort when she wasn't there.

It hurt sometimes, to see you so comfortable with her, to see you care for her so much. But she always passed it off as a close friendship, knowing she would always be the one you seek. She licked her lips, knocking lightly on the door, waiting for you to answer.

Moments of silence passed, bringing her into more nervousness. She listened for any sign you were there, the rustling of bed sheets, the sound of your footsteps. Silence, even as she knocked a second time. A part of her was scared she had hurt you too badly.

Nothing could hurt her more than seeing you seek solace in Natasha's touch, seeing you wrapped in her arms, breathing on her neck. You wanted to be there, leaving Yelena to be with her. It hurt more than the words she said to you

You stirred at the disturbance, groggily pulling away from the arms holding you. A frown covered your face when you noticed it wasn't Yelena holding you. Moving away from Natasha, you rubbed your eyes while you looked around the room. Your gaze landed on your girlfriend, a smile almost forming before you saw her heartbroken expression.

"You went to her?" She asked, her voice just above a whisper. Her words, yet simple, were laced with insecurity which was rooted long before she met you. An insecurity that she would always be the second choice, that everyone would choose her sister over herself.

"Lena," You began, throwing the covers off the bed, moving towards her. She raised a hand, stopping your motions as a troubled expression passed her face. Shaking her head, she moved nearer to the door, away from you. You frowned, walking towards her, whispering her nickname as a soft prayer.

"Don't call me that," Yelena said angrily, her eyes snapping up to yours. They softened for a moment, seeing the hurt in your expression. She came to apologize to you, ready to beg for you to stay with her. Seeing you with Natasha, pushed all of her good intentions to the back of her mind.

You licked your lips, glancing from Natasha to your girlfriend, you hoped you could still call her that. You knew she came here to apologize, you could see it in the way she shifted her feet, not wanting to leave before finishing what she came here to do. You reached a hand towards her, hoping she would take it. She pulled away from you as if you'd burned her.

"Stop doing this to me." She muttered, shifting away from you. You frowned your hand coming up to brush her cheek. Her head leaned away from you, her hand coming up to yours, holding it at a distance from her skin. You tilted your head curiously at her words, guilt still gleaming in your eyes.

"Doing what?"

"This," Yelena gestured to your hand reaching out to her, pulling away from you. "Pretending you love me when you want her."

She thought your love was fake, where you never pretended, you never lied to her, not once, not even when you were sure the truth would hurt her. She had been fed enough lies to last lifetimes, you didn't add to that. Now she thought you were pretending to love her when everything was true.

She doubted it, your bright grins, your assurances of your love, your words, your actions, everything. The breakfast in beds, the nights you'd spent awake while she was working just because you didn't want her to be alone. The hours you'd spent worrying when she went on missions because you weren't there to protect her.

How could she doubt you?

“I’ve been second best to Natasha my entire life." Yelena continued, almost oblivious to your stare. Her hand ran through her rough ponytail, her gaze flitting from you to her sister. The redhead sat on the bed, looking disheveled, her eyes staring down at the sheets. Catching her gaze, she hurried out of the room, giving you some privacy

"I don't want you to pretend you chose me instead of her." She said, licking her lips as she backed away from you. The silence in the room prolonged as she waited for you to speak. A part of her was hoping you would argue with her, tell her that you chose her first.

But as your silence continued, she began to doubt herself. She watched your expressions closely, wishing to read your thoughts rather than wait for you to voice them. Your emotions were hidden from her, conflict showing across on your face yet your true intentions even she could not read. She began to leave you to your silence when you took her hand.

"Wait," You whispered, her wrist grasped tightly in your hand. You knew she could break free of your grip and leave if that was what she wanted. But she didn't, she stood there, her back turned to you, waiting for you to fight to stay.

"You aren't second to Natasha," You began, furrowing your brows as you tried to compose your thoughts. "I only came to her because I was scared of losing you."

At your words, Yelena slowly turned around, her emerald eyes raking over your features, trying to spot a lie. You let her search, knowing she would find nothing but the truth. You tugged her closer to you, a faint smile crossing your lips when she let you.

"Lena, falling in love with you was never a choice," You said, reaching for her other hand and pulling her closer. Her eyes met yours, a genuine smile crossing your face when she didn't look away. Your thumbs ran across the skin of her knuckles, feeling the skin under your fingertips.

"Staying with you is a choice I will always make."

Her fingertips trailed up your arms, a smile gracing her lips, her hands coming up to your shoulders before tugging you closer to her. Your arms wrapped around her waist as she buried her face in your neck. Your words had calmed even the greatest of her insecurities. Your touch brought her most golden desires to life.

There was much to talk over, many storms to calm, but for now, you could find salvation at this moment. You knew she forgave you, and would never doubt your love for her again. You never had a reason to doubt her, you never will, not as long as you could feel her care for you.

You could feel it when she breathed in your scent, her lips meeting the base of your neck. Your skin burned under her touch with such a warmth you had never felt before. The feeling new but in no way unwelcome, her touch reassuring your safety and her love. She showed you she loved you with the way her lips danced over yours, the way her hands tugged you closer to her, all because you chose her.

A/N: I know it’s been a while since i updated, but i put loads of effort into this, comments and reblogs are FABULOUS! Please tell me what you think of this

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero , @a-stressedstudent , @aaron-despair , @rooskaya-yelena , @dynnealberto , @thewitchandtheassassin , @wannabe-fic-reader , @izalesbean, @higherfurther-romanova , @natalia-quinzel , @blackxwidowsxwife , @studies-styles , @procrastinatingsapphictrash , @mxxnmocha , @ladyeliot , @wandavixen , @blurryylines , @thewidowsghost , @wlwlovesreading let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x fem areader #marvel x female reader #marvel x female!reader #marvel x you #marvel x y/n #marvel one shot #Yelena Belova #yelena Belova x reader #yelena Belova x female reader #yelena Belova x you #yelena Belova x y/n #yelena Belova oneshot #yelena Belova imagine #Florence Pugh #my writing #my fic #MYC’s writing

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sparks-joy-imagines · 3 years

Note

Hi! Could I request some hcs or a one shot (whichever you prefer!) where Gojo finds out reader has never orgasmed with a partner before because her previous partners were kind of asses. Thank you either way! Have a lovely day! :)

hello love~ I figured I might as well turn this into a one shot because there had been just so~ many ideas floating around my head for this (including a few Japan traumata lol) - I hope you're ready to buckle up cause this one comes in at 5k appr. enjoy -mesu. PS: A very special thanks to niob for beta-ing this monster and talking me through it!!!❤

Gojō Satoru x f!reader warnings: vaginal penetration, oral sex (receiving), Gojō being a smug arse

You cursed the day you were born. Actually, no. You cursed the day Gojo Satoru was born to torment your existence.

The first time you had met Gojo it had been your first year teaching at Kyoto jujutsu high and your first impression had been that no single living being could withstand his gaze of scrutiny. Given, as the wielder of both infinity and the six eyes there wasn’t anyone on his level to begin with, but did he really have to be an arse about it? Who even hired him as a teacher – a person supposed to be of pedagogic value – in the first place?

Luckily, you didn’t have to see him all that often, usually just whenever the time of year came around for the good-will event with the sister school in Tokyo but he had picked up an unhealthy interest in your person and relentlessly teased you for whatever you did and didn’t do alike.

Utahime had once suggested that it was Gojo’s twisted way of flirting with you and you couldn’t help but scoff and reply that you had seen Gojo flirting. And it was nothing alike how he was acting towards you. Afterwards, Utahime had taken pity on you and acted as an intermittence between you and Gojo so he wouldn’t get under your skin anymore, albeit he mostly ended up getting under hers instead.

At least, that was until tonight. With the students being sound asleep in bed, everyone involved in the event unanimously had decided to head for a drink at a fancy bar in Ginza to celebrate the event ending more or less successfully despite the unforeseen interference of some higher ranked curses and you ended up sitting sandwiched between Utahime and Shoko who both had insisted on a girl’s table away from curious colleagues and ears, while the other staff were seated at a slightly larger table just out of earshot.

The back of your head hit your nape when you downed what felt like the 7th shot of nihonshu. The alcohol prior to the shots had already infiltrated your system, leaving your senses foggy and your tongue loose. You weren’t about to spill your secrets just yet, but it was definitely getting harder to suppress the glances you’d love to gift Gojo who seemed entirely unfazed by any of the liquor he had consumed this evening.

That prick has to use his innate techniques to cope with the alcohol!

You narrowed your eyes, glaring at the tall man across the table who hadn’t even bothered to take his blindfold off while sporting a vaguely amused if aloof expression while the headmaster of Kyoto high and Tokyo high appeared to be in a heated discussion. Speaking of rude.

Lost in your thought of how much you longed to wipe that smirk off of Gojo’s face, you didn’t follow the topic of conversation of your friends at the table who definitely had one nihonshu too many.

“I’m telling you, anatomically speaking, it’s just unfair. It’s so much easier for men to achieve an orgasm, alright? It’s as if nature was against us women,” Shoko sighed dramatically, taking the nihonshu bottle to refill the shot glasses only to find it empty. Another, this time desperate, sigh followed.

“What’s even worse is that men usually don’t care about their partner's pleasure at allll,” Utahime responded with a distinct lull in her voice while she was already close to resting her cheek on the table. She’s definitely had enough but that didn’t stop her from going on, “Ever since I started dating, there’s been what? Maybe two decent enough guys that actually cared if I came too or not.”

“Sounds about right,” Shoko agreed, apparently trying to find some universal truth in the emptiness of the bottle she was still holding onto.

You shot a glance to the two unhappy women at your side, deciding that it was time to share your two cents of truth under your breath, “At least you’ve had partners before who took care of your needs, too. I for once have only been with arseholes who could care less if I came or not. And so I never did… so…consider yourselves lucky? I guess.”

As expected, your volume made it impossible for them to catch what you were revealing and Utahime unbeknownst interrupted the aftermath to your soft confession by suddenly straightening her posture in a surge of drunken energy, grabbing one of your and Shoko’s hands respectively to declare something about not letting this circumstance prevent anyone from having a great night.

You could’ve sworn the corner of Gojo’s mouth perked up the second you shot him another glance…

A few drinks, a second bar, and a couple hours later.

Your head was spinning slightly and you leaned your back against the wall of the establishment you’d just stepped out of. Damn your senpai for making you drink. You soaked in the wet, clean night air which could only be achieved during the rainy season in Tokyo.

The moment you pressed your eyes shut you could hear Utahime demanding to move onto a karaoke bar and continue this until morning. Of fucking course, you thought to yourself and opened your eyes, desperate for any excuse to skip what was about to come.

Among general consensus with a few nods and exclamations here and there, you slowly noticed how Gojo was watching you intently. By now he had actually gotten rid of his blindfold and was sporting his dark shades, his soft hair was framing his angular face, slightly damp by the drizzle and you would have gladly punched him for the way the street lights and shop signs reflected in his hair.

Still, right now you had other things to worry about and so you took a deep breath and spoke up, “Thanks for this evening but I’ll have to take my leave now. It’s already late and I don’t think my voice can handle singing right now.” An obvious lie as your voice was just fine, but it’d do the trick of getting you out of corporate pressure.

And that’s exactly what happened. Your excuse was accepted at face value and you were wished a good night’s rest. Umbrellas were opened and the group made of two faculties strolled towards the closet illuminated Karaoke sign.

You waited until everyone was on the move, so you could gather yourself in your time without any scrutinising eyes on you.

“Leaving an intoxicated damsel to her own devices? How could I be the strongest without taking care of her? Allow me to lead you home, (Y/N)~”

Just when you thought you had lived through the worst, Gojo’s voice piped up right next to your ear. You hadn’t seen him stay behind and now he was close, dangerously so, and he didn’t even care to hide the glee in his voice.

You managed to turn your head in his direction and gift him – what was in your imagination – a nasty stare. For Gojo, it rather seemed like you were trying your best to fixate your dizzy gaze on him.

He sighed and for once dropped his excruciating façade, speaking in a normal tone, “Seriously tough, (Y/N), I’d rather lead you home. Tokyo’s far from being safe at night.”

Seeing and actually hearing Gojo apparently genuinely concerned made you weigh your chances enough that you finally sighed in defeat, “Fine. But only up to the doorstep.”

Gojo blinked at you repeatedly, appearing almost insulted that you dared to think him a man who would take advantage of women like that – truth being that he was more insulted that you thought that he was actually in need of such tricks – and made an off-hand remark of how he could never.

You waved your hand dismissively and slowly tried to straighten your posture, “You’re here by car, right? That’s why you used your innate technique to not get drunk. Wish I could’ve done the same, wouldn’t be dying of spinning world syndrome right now.”

That stopped Gojo’s rant about his hurt pride. A sheepish smirk appeared on his lips and he stated flatly, “You noticed.”

You nodded, which turned out to have been a terrible idea. Nausea overcame you and you tried to curl into a ball, but Gojo was next to you in a second, smoothly wrapping his long arm around your waist while his free hand reached for your hand, easily securing your stance like that.

“Let’s get you home, shall we?”

You nodded and simply concentrated on not getting sick while he led you towards the parking lot where his car was parked. He left you shortly to pay for the ticket and you leaned against one of the nearby vending machines, concentrating on your breathing.

A few moments later the relatively quiet night was disturbed by the low roar of what turned out to be a pricey sports car. It didn’t take long for Gojo to stop said car right in front of you. Ever the gentleman he stepped out of the driver’s seat and opened the door to the passenger’s side for you, offering his hand to you for assistance. The entire picture which enfolded in front of you seemed to be taken out of a romance.

Only when you wobbled over to the car and felt the infinity between your hand and Gojo’s you snapped back to reality, pursing your lips as you stated, “You never let anyone actually touch you, do you?”

“If someone’s worth my while, sure I do,” Gojo replied with a sly smile, but something in his eyes appeared resigned, almost lost. But maybe that was just your imagination? Almost promising.

You didn’t even have time to follow-up on his statement as he simply shut the door in your face, cutting any further discussion short. Soon, Gojo settled in the driver’s seat and drove off towards your hotel. You didn’t even question how he knew where he needed to go.

Silence fell upon you and you simply turned your gaze to the flashing street lights, allowing you to marvel at Tokyo’s nocturnal atmosphere for a while. This was so much better than making your way through the confusing public transport in time for the last train. You shot Gojo another gaze and were surprised to find him diligently keeping his eyes on the road.

At once you wondered if you unwittingly had been keeping him from joining the others at karaoke. Singing one’s soul out and getting undressed in the process seemed right up Gojo’s alley.

“…Thank you for taking me back to the hotel. I appreciate it. You… didn’t really have to do this though, I’m sure you wanted to attend karaoke with the others,” you started off your half-apology.

A soft yet deep chuckle escaped Gojo’s throat.

“Oh sure I did, hun. There’s been something on my mind concerning you which is just soooo much more fun than karaoke could ever be after all,” Gojo casually replied, eyes never straying from the road.

You frowned and cocked your head in an inquisitive manner.

“Don’t act confused now, love,” Gojo smirked as he pulled over and parked the car right next to the entrance of the hotel. He unfastened his seatbelt to turn to you completely and casually rested his elbow against his seat, “Now, why don’t you tell me about never having orgasmed with a partner before?”

The question hung in the air for a moment as Gojo watched you curiously while you didn’t believe the meaning behind what your ears had picked up on.

“I…,” you spilled quickly, already feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. This had to be a nightmare. How did he know of that? You never told a soul, too embarrassed by your unfortunate choice of past sexual partners, and now Gojo Satoru – out of all possible people – knew of your secret?!

The panic must have shown on your face as Gojo’s smug expression softened slightly and he leaned closer to you, only stopping when the tip of his nose almost collided with yours, “You should take more care who might be listening in when you’re talking to yourself, (Y/N).”

You nodded once and leaned back, avoiding Gojo’s touch and gaze as best you could, “T-thanks for the ride.” Even if his revelation had thrown you off entirely, you tried your best to hide it.

“My pleasure. I’ll have to insist on taking you to your room though.” Gojo’s tone was unforgiving and made it very clear that you wouldn’t get out of him walking you all the way.

You sighed deeply and submitted to your fate, sinking into your seat until he had rounded the car and opened the passenger’s door so you could accept his hand to disembark in a semi-elegant manner.

Once you had found your balance he let go of your hand, matching your pace as you walked towards your room, acting as if he hadn’t just nonchalantly invaded your privacy. You shot him several glances but Gojo acted very interested in the interior of the hotel. You didn’t buy it though. Obviously he was just relishing in the fact that he got under your skin.

So he didn’t want to push any further? Fine by you. You huffed softly and pushed the button for your floor once you boarded the lift, Gojo strolling on your heels, hands shoved into the pocket of his trousers.

You refrained from looking at anything close to Gojo’s direction, albeit you could feel his piercing gaze on you. You used the time of the short ride to get your room card out of your purse and as soon as the automatic doors opened, you darted out of the lift and unlocked the door to your room with a soft beep.

Barely having shuffled inside you got rid of your purse and turned around to thank Gojo once again, finding him right on your doorstep.

“Thanks, Gojo, I appreciate what you did tonight,” you smiled awkwardly at the close proximity and mustered the courage to look into his eyes, just to be surprised by their intensity.

“Of course,” Gojo hummed, resting his left arm on the doorframe he leaned closer, stopping right before crossing the threshold with his movements. He easily kept your eyes locked in his, making you all but forget about bringing some distance between you.

“Before I leave… y’know I could help you out with your little problem, (Y/N). If you’re up for it, that is.”

Gojo’s voice was low, eyes dark, pupils dilated with a certain hunger as they stared right into your soul.

When his words registered a soft gasp unwittingly left your lips as your eyes grew wide.

Just what was happening? Had Utahime been right all along?

The next moment Gojo was leaning down to you, making all but sure that your senses shut down to a bare minimum. Standing there frozen in place, time seemed to slow down around you as your eyes flickered from Gojo’s luscious lips to his cyan eyes and back to his lips again.

Was this really happening right now?

Your heart pounded against your chest harshly and you pressed your eyes shut to calm your nerves. That is when you felt his soft lips against the skin of your cheek, undoubtedly skin on skin. He‘d really turned his infinity off!

“As I have told you prior, I don’t take advantage of intoxicated women. But as I understand it, you still have a couple hours before your bullet train back to Kyoto tomorrow. I’ll be waiting for you, (Y/N). You won’t regret it. . .~”

You held your breath and nothing. When you finally opened your eyes again Gojo was gone. Simply vanished! He had done exactly what he had promised to do. Taken you home, up to your doorstep and not a millimetre further.

Did this mean that he was going to keep what he offered if you turned up at his doorstep tomorrow? Up until now Gojo had never given you any reason to doubt him. Sure, he was a prick, but he was honest about being a prick. At least that was more than could be said about any of your former affiliations.

It took a couple more moments before you managed to close the door and turn in to a sleepless night contemplating if you might as well take Gojo up on his offer.

The next day. After some empty excuses to Utahime of why you couldn’t spend the last hours in Tokyo together. In front of Gojo’s apartment.

You stared at the kanji at the apartment, contemplating if you should really proceed now. It had been a pain to get Gojo’s address, dodging several inquisitive questions of Utahime, but now that you were finally here you weren’t sure if you should be anymore.

Given Gojo had lived up to every single thing he had proclaimed so far, plus he never had given you any reason not to trust him. Still, did being here meant that you were willing to compromise your integrity for something as trivial as good sex? More so than the actual act, you were afraid of what it might mean for your future relationship with Gojo; which would be anything but professional hereafter.

Before you could spiral further into second guessing yourself, the apartment door in front of you opened smoothly, offering the view to a slightly dishevelled looking Gojo apparently just out of the shower.

The moment you locked eyes with his bare ocean orbs, a smug grin emerged on his face, “Fancy seeing you here, (Y/N). Come in.”

You mumbled a greeting and stepped into his modern apartment, quickly getting rid of your shoes and outer layers while Gojo walked further back into the flat calling out to you, “Can I offer you something to drink? Tea? Coffee? Pineapple juice?~”

You rolled your eyes, very convinced that you just shouldn’t have come here. You followed Gojo’s voice into a broad living room with an open kitchen. The colours and décor were kept simple, black and white, sometimes a splash of colour in the colour of his goddamn eyes.

After having accessed the surroundings to your heart’s content you turned to Gojo, “Do you happen to have pineapple juice – notoriously known for apparently for making the taste of oral sex sweeter – at hand for your guests at all times? Or did you go shopping for me yesterday?”

A soft chuckle, “I happen to like the flavour. Plus, I am quite certain your juices aren’t in need of any enhancement.” A wink followed. What a bastard.

Ignoring the faint blush that emerged on your cheeks, you countered, “And what exactly makes you so sure about that, mh?”

Gojo shortly nibbled on his full lips as he sized you up with hungry eyes. Then, he slowly rounded the kitchen counter until he stood right in front of you. The smell of his surprisingly fruity after-shave intoxicated your senses.

“Wanna find out?”

You managed a nod and Gojo smirked wider, simply lifting you up on the counter so you were closer to eye level with him.

And then he finally let his soft luscious lips collide with yours, involving you in a breathless, inifity-less kiss while your arms wrapped around his neck on their own accord. Gojo smirked against your lips pulling you closer to himself, gladly taking the opportunity to feel up through the fabric of the blouse you were wearing for travel.

How you cursed the school’s clothing protocol at that moment!

Frowning slightly you broke the kiss, quickly trying to get rid of your blouse with your hands, but Gojo had other plans, catching your hands in his he leaned closer and purred on your lips, “Ah-ah (Y/N), there’s still plenty of time till your bullet train. No need to rush~ This is more than a mere quicky to shoot one’s load and carry on, after all. I need you to relax and enjoy the ride.”

You weren’t quite sure what did the trick. The proximity to him or his genuine tone, but you visibly relaxed and started shamelessly feeling Gojo up in return. You weren’t surprised to find defined abs when you pushed the fabric of his shirt out of the way and followed their lines for a bit before you moved on to explore his back.

“Good girl,” Gojo chuckled in your ear and let out a teasing gasp in response to your initiative before he went to nibble on your earlobe, making you cross your legs behind his hips as a soft whimper escaped your lips.

“Sensitive, are we?”

Gojo moved back, capturing your lips in another kiss, this time parting yours with his cheeky tongue so he could explore your mouth to his heart’s content. You happily complied and concentrated on his tongue enough that you didn’t notice how he skilfully unbuttoned your blouse.

Your legs tightened around Gojo’s hips and you moaned when you felt his growing bulge through the fabric. Gojo took this opportunity to kiss down your neck only to ravish it mercilessly while his hands had taken a liking to your boobs, kneading them through your lacey bra.

“Hah~” More and more lewd noises filled the heated air as Gojo pinched your hardened nipples just the right amount to send shivers down your spine and you were glad that you didn’t have to depend on your trembling legs anymore.

Desperate for support you scratched blindly over Gojo’s upper arms which led him to gift you a wolfish smile as he pulled back enough to strip off your blouse and a swift motion later your bra followed.

Pouting slightly you picked on his shirt, making Gojo scoff and get rid of it, too. You sighed content about the equal stages of undress and wiggled slightly on top of the counter, enjoying the friction this provided against both the fabric of your pants and Gojo’s bulge.

“You little minx,” Gojo growled lowly, suddenly pinning you down to the counter by your neck. The cold surface sent a shiver through the entirety of your body. He adjusted his grip to be more gentle, yet still determined enough to hold you in place, actively preventing you from escaping from his touch. You would welcome the sweet torture that was to follow deliberately and Gojo was very aware of that.

Soon enough Gojo began his agonisingly slow treatment of your torso, mouthing his way from your collar bones to your chest where he spent his sweet time circling each nipple with his tongue.

You didn’t know what exactly he was doing with his shameless long tongue but you had never felt your body rise to the touch on its own quite like that and it took a minute to recognise it was your own voice which echoed through the apartment so obscenely.

Desperate for more stimulation which Gojo still withheld from you, you tried to pull him closer with your crossed legs, earning a suppressed moan from him as his erect member brushed against your clothed sex. How much you would’ve given for those layers to finally be gone.

“You really haven’t been getting laid properly at all, huh.”

Completely unnerved by now you groaned and shot Gojo an acid glare, but the elite sorcerer just chuckled to himself as he straightened back up, sizing you up in the process once again. You had never seen his eyes this dark.

In a split second his hands were undoing your pants as if they had never done anything else in his life and a few moments later you were sitting on the counter completely undressed.

When you blinked away your surprise, Gojo brushed another deep kiss on your lips, humming on them, “I’d hold onto something if I were you~”

And then he dove down to your core, hands holding your hips in place well aware that you wouldn’t be able to hold still.

As soon as his lips connected to your nether folds, a lightning impulse flashed through your body and your loudest moan yet left your lips. Your head flew back by itself and you wreathed as best you could on the counter top for either more or less friction, you weren’t quite sure.

All the while Gojo relentlessly continued his pursuit of your sex, tongue swirling expertly over and around your clit, building up a certain intensity before he moved down slightly to lick and mouth at your entrance.

You desperately held onto the edge of the counter for support, spilling his name over and over again, while Gojo cheekily thrust his tongue into you for a taste before he redirected his attention to your clit again.

The coil in your core seemed to harden and become undone at the same time and another flick of Gojo’s tongue made you scream as you jerked up as you finally hit your high. Juices spilled out of your cunt and you buried your flushed face in your hands while your entire body was convulsing in ecstasy.

Gojo made sure to keep his grip on you so you wouldn’t slide down from the counter, licking his soiled lips. Once he was sure that your breathing calmed down a bit he gently stroked away a couple of stray strands of hair and smirked, “Told ya you weren’t in the need of any enhancement, babe. You’re to die for~”

Still concentrating on your oxygen intake you were feeling rather overwhelmed with everything that had played out just now. It took a bit of bargaining with yourself to search for Gojo’s gaze again, but when your eyes met you immediately noticed the mixture of hunger and smug complacency in his. He had gotten you good, but you decided you weren’t going to leave before payback.

And so you cocked your brow up and smirked, “I admit you lived up to your word, Gojo. Mind if we take round two to the bedroom?”

A grin.

“Not at all, princess,” Gojo replied and picked you up bridal style to carry you off into his chamber.

Gojo’s bedroom was dark. Both furniture and bedding were either held in a dark grey or black and the shades were lowered. When Gojo let you down on the bed you took a look around and tended your head slightly at the unexpected interior.

You were torn out of your thoughts when you heard Gojo unbuckle his belt, followed by the sound of his zipper and turned back to see him in his whole glory.

His member was definitely on the larger side, but you were happy to see it came short of what you knew would be painful to insert. It had a nice girth and was slightly tended to the right, the tip glistening with pre-cum meant for your prior endeavors. You licked your lips unconsciously, eager to feel it in you.

“Marveled at my dick enough, have we? ” Gojo smirked knowingly and reached for a condom which just happened to lie on top of his nightstand.

You nodded slightly and watched him routinely put it on, before you pulled him on top of the bed and ravished his mouth with yours. He had deserved your undivided attention after making true of his promise and you were way past the stage of having any second thoughts.

Gojo curled his lips against yours, easily positioning himself on top of you while his hands were suddenly all over your body. It seemed like he wanted to leave his touch on every inch of your being and honestly? At this very moment you didn’t mind if he did.

The energy between the two of you grew hotter by the minute and you gasped for breath when he readjusted your hips so his member was prodding against your entrance.

“Last chance, (Y/N)…hng~”

The strain in his voice did it for you and you brushed a fleeting kiss on his cheek on your way to his ear, “Take me already, Satoru!”

A deep groan reverberated in Gojo’s upper body at the mention of his first name and he penetrated you in a swift, smooth motion, making both of you moan with pleasure.

He gave you a moment before he moved, offering the opportunity to get used to his considerable size before he started moving at a cheeky pace. Something had just clicked between the two of you and you moved against him as if you had never done anything else in your life. It felt liberating. It felt right. . .

A couple many minutes and exchanges of ecstasy later.

You were laying sprawled half-way over Gojo while he lazily played with your slightly damp hair. After your last round he had suggested a shower since you technically still had a train to catch and you thought it a good idea.

If you hadn’t stopped him, you would’ve also stained his bathroom with his name. Who would’ve thought that his infinite also applied to sexual stamina? But then again, it was Gojo who you were talking about.

You weren’t quite sure how this session was going to change your relationship with Gojo in the future, but you definitely didn’t regret going through with it.

You shuffled slightly on the bed and stretched slightly, “Mh, what’s the time?”

“Hn, ten past two,” Gojo replied with a raspy, yet slightly amused voice.

Ten past two. Ten past two. The bullet train back to Kyoto you were supposed to board was leaving at half past two!

You jumped out of the bed, hurriedly reaching for your clothes.

“FUCK!”

“Any time, (Y/N)”

You shot Gojo another glare, painfully aware that he had to have known.

Gojo only gifted you a wink and grinned, “If you are going to be as nice to me as you were just now the next time we meet, I might be willing to help you out, (Y/N)~”

You cursed the day you were born. Actually, no. You cursed the day Gojo Satoru was born to torment your existence.,

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #one shot #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen one shot #jujutsu kaisen x reader #text #jjk requests are open #not sfw #mesu #5k baby #jjk

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lunar-wandering · 3 years

Text

so today i remembered to transfer the Shadowpeach Drabbles I wrote for @winterpower98 Cursed AU onto Ao3, and in honor of that (and simply because I wanted to) I have written a bonus part-

"Another cave? Seriously?"

The group of three stood at the entrance to the cave, looking in, trying to see as far as they could into the darkness.

"Must we explore every cave we stumble upon?" Macaque sighed.

"Well, it's not gonna explore itself." MK shrugged, turning to go in, only to be stopped as Wukong leapt in front of him.

"Oh no you don't." He said, "You're not going in there by yourselves. I'm coming with you this time."

"Wait, why would you-" Macaque started, confused.

"Because the last time you two went into a cave by yourselves, MK ended up with an injured leg." Wukong said, arms crossed. "I'm coming with you this time, and that's final."

"But what about-" MK started-

"It's fine. I'll be fine." Wukong said, walking past MK and Macaque, marching into the cave as though if he waited any longer he'd loose his nerve. "Let's hurry up and get this over with."

MK watched his mentors back with concern, before glancing to the side to see Macaque mirroring his expression. Said expression snapped back into a more neutral one once he noticed that MK was looking at him though.

"C'mon." Macaque said, nudging MK as he walked past him. "Let's make sure he doesn't freak out and fall down a hole or something."

Surprisingly enough, things didn't immediately go downhill.

Well, that is, up until-

A loose rock tumbled down from above, and Wukong, who was already very on edge, startled backwards, bumping into Macaque and knocking him over, sending the both of them rolling over a ledge and down a small cliff, the both of them ending up laying on top of each other.

MK, after doing a quick check and making sure they were both okay, stood on the edge of the ledge and smirked.

"I thought you said you were going to keep him from falling down a hole." He said, and Macaque groaned.

"I didn't think he'd knock me down with him." He said, slowly moving to sit up as Wukong hurriedly backed off of him, giving a murmured apology.

And then MK jumped down the ledge, landing with a thump and knocking loose a few more rocks, and suddenly Wukong was clinging to Macaque again.

(Macaque was suddenly grateful, that he was the one with the super hearing. He wasn't particularly fond of the idea of Wukong noticing how fast his heart was racing from the close contact.)

"Sorry." MK said, wincing as he realized he'd startled his mentor. Wukong gave him a nervous smile.

"It's fine bud." He said, but Macaque could feel him shaking a little. Macaque sighed, before starting to try and peel Wukong's arms off of him.

"You can let go of me now." He said, trying to ignore the knowing look MK was giving him. "C'mon, we won't be able to move if you keep clinging to me like this-"

"It...helps though. The touch, I mean." Wukong reluctantly admitted, slowly letting go. "Though you're right, I guess we wouldn't be able to move if I'm clinging to you like-"

"Why don't you just carry him then?" MK asked, and Macaque's head shot up.

"What-" He hissed, and then nearly bit his tongue to keep himself from yelping as suddenly he was being lifted up, being held tight against Wukong. The Monkey King wordlessly held him bridal style, obviously happy for a way to maintain contact while also being able to move. His arms were tight around Macaque as though he was holding onto a teddy bear for comfort. He turned around, starting to walk as Macaque remained silent in shock, trying to process what had just happened.

He looked over Wukong's shoulder, back at MK, who gave him a smirk and a thumbs up.

Oh that little sh-

The shock finally wore off, and Macaque started struggling.

"Put me down!" He hissed, fur bristling. "I can walk by myself!"

"I know." Wukong said, but didn't even loosen his grip in the slightest.

Macaque gave up on struggling suspiciously quickly.

Oh, how MK wished he had a camera.

Well, actually, he did, in fact, have his phone with him, but every time he started trying to pull it out, Macaque would glare at him from over Wukong's shoulder.

MK eventually resolved to committing the image to memory in order to draw it later.

As it was though, they'd found another exit out of the cave, one that lead into a wide open meadow instead of the dark forest they'd been traveling through. Wukong immediately let out a relieved sigh, slouching a little and loosening his grip on Macaque, who almost immediately jumped out of his arms, brushing invisible dirt off his clothes.

"Glad that's over." He said, before registering the muffled giggling coming from behind him.

MK kept one hand covering his mouth to keep his giggles quiet, and at Macaque's questioning look, he subtly gestured to the monkey's tail.

Which was currently wrapped around Wukong's.

Wukong seemed to notice this fact at the exact same time Macaque did, an embarrassed flush taking over both monkeys faces, their tails letting go of each other as they looked away in different directions, avoiding eye contact.

MK almost wished that Mei (or maybe even Red Son) was here so that he could have someone to lose his mind over this with.

Pretty much anyone would do, really, he just needed someone to rant to about all this-

Wait. He could have someone to rant to, now that he thinks about it.

He looked back over at Wukong and Macaque, making sure that they were suitably distracted.

And then he took one of his hairs and blew on it.

And Porty MK popped into existence.

He still looked like a monkey, exactly like how MK currently did, but the sunglasses and coat made it obvious that it was Porty. (MK never really did understand how Porty and the others had managed to maintain their clothes and personality. To be honest he....didn't really want to think too hard about it.)

Anyways, back to business.

"Are you seeing this?" MK asked, gesturing over at where Wukong and Macaque had somehow swapped from looking away from each other, flustered, to all out glaring at each other, albeit with a certain sense of playfulness in it that would be hidden to anyone who wasn't looking for it.

"Oh, I'm seeing it alright." Porty said, before smirking a little. "But don't worry OG, y'see, I've got a plan."

And really, MK should've dispelled Porty right then and there.

But on the other hand, it'd been weeks. Weeks of dealing with the mutual pining that rivaled the number of pine trees in the forest they'd been walking through.

In the end, he'd ended up accepting Porty's plan.

Porty shook MK awake later that night. (MK had dispelled him as they'd walked through the meadow, only bringing him back in secret before going to bed once they'd made it back to the edge of the forest.) The clone must've been hiding in the trees or in a bush, MK thought, as there were stray leaves within his hair.

"They're asleep." Porty whispered, "C'mon, OG. Let's hurry this up."

MK crawled out of his sleeping bag, shaking some of the tiredness out of his body as he stood up.

The plan was simple.

MK would push Wukong out of the tree. Porty would catch him. (MK had, recently, discovered the Monkey King was actually a heavy sleeper. His strong nighttime vigilance from legends had literally only been the result of him not sleeping at all.) Once they'd secured Wukong, they'd carry him and lay him down near where Macaque slept, and simply let things play out from there.

MK was halfway up the tree Wukong was sleeping in when he remembered something important.

"...Are you sure you'll be able to catch him?" MK asked, and both he and Porty went silent as they remembered just how easily a clone could be destroyed.

"...Good point, OG." Porty said, "Let's swap, I'll push him out of the tree, you can catch him."

With a quick change of positions, the plan was back in motion. Porty shoved Wukong out of the tree, and MK caught him, stumbling a little under the dead weight. (And oh, was he ever glad for his super strength.) The two of them paused for a moment, waiting to see if Wukong would wake up.

When the Monkey King showed no signs of stirring, Porty jumped down from the tree, landing beside MK, and the both of them turned around, slowly walking over to where Macaque lay on the other side of the camp.

"...What are you doing?"

And oh, MK had just known he had forgotten something.

Both MK and Porty startled, MK only just barely keeping himself from dropping Wukong, as they whirled around to see-

Wukong's hair clone, lounging back on his cloud, watching them with a disapproving look.

"It was his idea!" Porty quickly said, pointing at MK, who let out an offended "Hey!", before suddenly Porty dispelled himself, disappearing in a quick flash, leaving MK alone with the Wukong hair clone.

MK nervously giggled, tightening his grip on the asleep Monkey King as the hair clone's eyes narrowed.

And then suddenly the clone smirked, amusement in it's eyes, and MK relaxed, letting out a breath of relief.

"It's about time you actually tried to push things along." The hair clone said, lounging back on its cloud, looking away. "I can't say he's gonna be happy in the morning though."

MK rolled his eyes, he'd already long since accepted he'd probably have to go through some kind of stern telling off tomorrow. With the hair clone seemingly having given it's permission, MK turned, completing his mission of bringing Wukong over to Macaque, gently laying the Monkey King on the ground beside the shadow monkey.

Macaque shifted, rolling over, and MK froze, worrying that he'd accidentally made too much noise-

But then Macaque put an arm around Wukong, pulling him closer, Wukong responding by nuzzling into the other's neck as their tails curled together.

MK made no short work of pulling out his phone and snapping a picture. (And sending said picture to both Mei and his own email. One could never have too many backups after all, Macaque was sure to try and delete it once he knew it existed).

Mission accomplished, he returned to his own sleeping bag, whispering a quiet good night to the Wukong hair clone as he walked by.

(In all honesty, MK didn't think this would get Wukong or Macaque to confess. It might push them a little closer to it, yes, but it wouldn't make it actually happen, no, there was far too much going on, too much history for one night of cuddling together to lead to a full out love confession.

Until that time, he'd be fine with just watching the chaos that unfolds.

....He was fairly sure that, come morning, their expressions would be hilarious to witness though).

#Monkie Kid #Cursed AU #Shadowpeach #my writing #Snitching Clones

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merakiui · 3 years

Note

hii could we get an angsty scenario/hcs of xiao and scaramouche/any characters you prefer! who are basically head over heels for someone but that person keeps getting with the wrong people and constantly getting their heart broken? Preferably with a good/fluffy ending but it’s up to you!

cw: angst + heartbreak note - decided to go for scenarios! (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[Xiao]

One Call Away—

The sudden shout of his name had brought him out into the open, where he finds you sitting in a field of wildflowers, your head hung and quiet sobs racking your hunched form.

“You called?” The gruffness in his voice startles you and your head snaps up. He notices your pained expression and the tears that refuse to cease, and it gives birth to a strange feeling within his chest. “What happened? Surely I am not too late.” And then he shakes his head. “No, I’m never late.”

“Ah... I’m sorry.” You sniffle, pitifully rubbing at your eyes. “I guess your name slipped out. I didn’t mean to bother you. I just didn’t mean to call for you either.”

Xiao raises a brow and then surveys the surrounding area. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’re in any mortal peril. In that case, I’ll leave you to—”

“No!”

Your sudden shout startles the both of you, with you drawing back and Xiao’s eyes widening ever so slightly. He wonders why you’re crying when beautiful scenery surrounds you. Are you truly that pathetic? Are mortals usually this weak-hearted? Xiao can’t wrap his head around the idea of grief; he’s an immortal who has seen plenty of hazardous scenarios worth grieving over. Yet with the passage of time he has learned to let such emotions drift away on a wind current. Emotions are useless to an adeptus.

But now he’s stuck with them.

“No?”

“D-Don’t go...” Your voice wobbles and you wipe at your reddened eyes. “I don’t want to bother you, but could you stay here with me? For a little while, at least. It’s all I’ll ask...”

He feels like he should decline your desperate plea before it spreads its perplexing roots throughout his system. The words are practically on the tip of his tongue and he struggles to verbalize them. If he could, he’d shake his head and vanish from your sight. There’s something about your expression that forces him to stay, and he truly detests the way his emotions run wild at the prospect of something he can’t quite comprehend.

“Fine.”

And so Xiao listens to you. It’s something he does best; his eyes and ears are open as he gives you his full, undivided attention. Half of him observes your reactions as you explain what happened and the other half zeros in on the way your subtle hand motions. While he might not be anywhere near a cupid—and he would never be caught giving out relationship advice to mortals, which is something he couldn’t do even if he tried—he is still a being of immense power. From what he’s able to understand from your explanation, your loved one decided to part from you because they believed it just wasn’t working. And you, having been struck with an immense sadness, failed to call out to them to clear up any misunderstandings.

Eventually, after internally wrestling with his own thoughts and feelings, he asks, “Do you want me to teach them a lesson? Should you need them to feel the same amount of despair you’re feeling—”

“Oh, no! No. No. They don’t deserve to be punished for that. I understand now that our feelings weren’t the same. We really weren’t working and that’s okay. It just...hurts.”

Xiao tilts his head, an innocently childish show of confusion. “Where?”

“It’s not a physical pain, Xiao. I mean, it could be. But...this is more emotional.” Your hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around his wrist. He stares down at your hand and he almost pulls away. Before he can even consider what’s happening, you’re guiding his hand to where your heart is. “In here. It hurts now, but I’ll overcome it eventually. I’m used to it anyways...”

The straight-faced adeptus remains still as he feels the fast-paced beat of your heart. Mortals have always been weak in his eyes: feeble beings who break at the slightest inconvenience. Although you don’t seem close to shattering and that confuses him more than he’d like to admit. Perhaps you are one of the more resilient humans he’s come across in recent years. It’s strange when he feels your heartbeat, so very certain and alive with the sour feelings a heartbreak brings. He’s never understood that either. Heartbreaks and relationships. The differences between friendship and romance. Both can be seen through to the very end, if fostered healthily.

So then why are you so sad?

Truthfully, you’ve always seemed sad to Xiao. As an adeptus, he’s never been able to fully grasp the meaning behind human emotions. They’re insignificant in his eyes, mere flashes of feeling that can hurt and blind. They’re troublesome and useless—certainly not something he would ever want to experience. But those emotions can heal and bring cheer. They’re not all entirely bad, nor are they as evil as he seems to think they are.

Xiao realizes his hand has been on your chest for a while now and he’s been staring at you so much that you’ve begun to shrink away, partially embarrassed to have him analyze you with so much scrutiny.

“Is...something wrong?”

He shakes his head slowly at first before retracting his arm. And then he notices you’ve stopped crying. He’s not sure when this happened, but he’s oddly relieved to see your neutral expression. Somehow your crying face is painful and it wounds him in a way he never would have imagined.

“Thank you for listening to my rant. I know this is probably meaningless to you, since you’re an adeptus and all, but it really means a lot. So I’m glad I was able to get these things off my chest. I feel a lot lighter now.”

“You’re not sad?”

“Ah. Well...” Your gaze flickers, eyes darting to and fro while you struggle to look at him. “I’m still sad, but I’ll get over it! Don’t worry! I’m resilient!”

Xiao’s brow furrows in confusion. As he has thought plenty of times before, mortals are far too complex. Eventually he sighs and says, “It’s okay to cry. Don’t keep that inside, okay? You’ll just hurt yourself even more.” Now he’s avoiding your gaze and there’s a barely noticeable tinge of pink dusting his pale cheeks. He’s really not good at consoling humans.

“Oh, Xiao.” You pull him in for a hug and he stiffens, trying to squeeze out of your arms like a cat near water. But then he feels your fingers digging into his arm and he realizes that you might actually need this hug. Despite the fact that he’s not used to freely giving out hugs—or even cheering up mortals, for that matter—he is definitely out of his element. “Really, thank you. I promise to make you an Almond Tofu as thanks.”

“There’s no need for that.” Hesitantly, as if he’s worried he’ll break you, he wraps his arms around your form. “I’m just helping you because you called my name. That’s all.”

But that’s not the full truth. Hidden in those words is the real reason why he even bothered to stay despite the false alarm. And it worries Xiao when he thinks about the implications. He really does like you and this admiration has surpassed platonic love. As long as you’re okay, though, he’ll swallow his feelings in favor of making sure you’re always happy. It’s one of his duties as your friend.

Friend. A word Xiao never thought he’d ever use, but it feels nice. He likes it.

Yet The Distance Remains Harrowing.

[Scaramouche]

To Mend a Broken Heart—

You’re spilling your emotional guts in front of the Sixth of the Fatui Harbingers, tears freely running down your cheeks like two faulty water faucets. It’s a pathetic sight, really. Scaramouche witnessed this exact show just a few weeks ago when you were so certain that that fisher was the one. Now, after meeting and getting together with someone else for a short time, you’ve come out of yet another relationship, unhappy and unsatisfied.

He’s jealous. There’s no denying the envy he feels when you talk so highly of these people and then wail about them a few days later. It’s a vicious cycle of mending a fragile heart and then breaking it into pieces all over again. With no end in sight, you fall victim to your own demise in the pursuit of love. He wonders if you’ll ever learn to choose your next partner carefully rather than settling for anything with a pulse.

“This is exactly what I said would happen, was it not?” he says with a sigh. “Oh, woe is you. If you were smarter, this last relationship might have lasted longer.”

“That’s rich coming from you. I’ve never seen you in a relationship before,” you mutter, wiping angrily at your eyes. His eyelid twitches at the not-so-subtle jab. “Ugh!I hate being so unlucky! This is the worst.”

“Rather than your foul luck, I think the problem lies within you and your taste in partners.”

Sniffling, you lower your head onto the table, hoping to just melt into the crafted wood before you end up making even more of a fool out of yourself. It’s rare to be in the company of Scaramouche, considering how often he’s assigned missions that require swift travel and a covert profile. But whenever you do find yourself sitting across from him, indulging in light snacks and tea, it’s always because you’ve lost your latest lover; and your own sadness requires the nullifying effects of Scaramouche’s cynicism.

“They’re good people! I just don’t know why it never works out. We’re happy and we both like each other—it doesn’t make any sense. Am I missing something? Is it my fault? They probably got tired of me because I’m not a good person.“

“Perhaps.” He takes a moment to sip his tea and you muster a weak glare. Only Scaramouche can delight in his beverage while you’re holding back another onslaught of tears. “Your crocodile tears are hardly flattering and your apparent need for consistent affection might come off as clingy. And you have a tendency to find flaws within yourself whenever something doesn’t go your way. Adding onto that, you doubt yourself a lot and you’re always quick to take the blame for things that are out of your control. In a way you are partially—”

“I get it. I’m not a good person.”

“I never said anything of that sort. Now you’re just asking for pity.”

Oh, how close you are to punching that smirk off of his face.

“Then since you seem to know everything, my oh so helpful friend, why don’t you tell me what I’m missing?”

“With pleasure.” His cup finds the surface of the table as he ponders your demand for a moment. “You’re missing someone who meshes well with your personality.”

“That’s not true. Everyone I’ve been with so far—“ His skeptical look makes you stop short. “Okay. Maybe we forced it because we thought it was love. But that’s besides the point! There was still an attraction! I think...” You huff and bury your face in your arms, nearly almost sprawling on the table. You’re too depressed to even consider how impolite your actions look, and Scaramouche scoffs at your poor display of manners. “Where am I even going to find someone who ‘meshes well with my personality,’ hm?”

“I’m sure you’ve already found them.” He clears his throat, tracing a finger along a sanded knot in the wooden table. “You’re sitting across from him.”

Whether he intended for you to hear that whispered part, you can’t say for sure. But your head perks up and you fix him with a lopsided grin. “You’re kidding.”

“Hm?”

“Me and you, a couple?” A small giggle escapes your lips and you swipe the remaining tears out of your eyes. “Don’t joke about that. I’m trying to be sad here!”

It wasn’t a joke, he almost says and he catches himself, suddenly self-conscious.

“I don’t think we’d work out,” you continue, motioning between you and him. “We’d hardly see each other and you don’t seem like the type for romance. Besides, I’m not attracted to you in that way. You feel the same, right?”

Scaramouche stares into his cup before he meets your gaze, a tight smile gracing his expression. “Of course. Your inability to settle isn’t all that attractive.”

Your eyes roll and you finally pick up your own cup to take a large gulp of lukewarm tea. The bitter Harbinger observes your actions with narrowed eyes. There’s a distinct pain that taps at his hardened soul, splitting it apart as your words echo within his spinning head. I don’t think we’d work out. I’m not attracted to you in that way. Why is he suddenly feeling...upset? He’s not one for pitiful emotions; he’s a Harbinger, not a lovesick fool! He ought to glare at you and storm off, demanding the two of you never speak again. But he won’t say that because he doesn’t want to hurt you. Because he cares for you. Because he loves you.

You feel the same, right?

No, that’s not right. This is the love he’s been wallowing in since he first got acquainted with you. It’s strange when he remembers every event that has led up to the blossoming feelings that reside deep in the epicenter of his heart, but it’s even more strange that he can’t find the courage to voice his own opinion.

“We wouldn’t mix,” he reaffirms your statement with a cold tone. There is no warmth in his eyes. “After all, your taste in tea is as bad as your taste in partners.”

And even though he wishes you could see through his walls—just this once he’ll allow you to tear them down for the sake of a half-baked confession—you just sit there and grin, no longer teary-eyed and forlorn. How odd. His heart feels far heavier than it’s ever been before. And you’re already scanning your surroundings, hungry for a love that will never keep you sated. Perhaps you weren’t even sad in the first place.

Upon realizing this, Scaramouche wants nothing more than to disappear into the wood like a feeble worm and never come back out.

You Must Break Another.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenario #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #xiao scenario #xiao #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche scenario #scaramouche

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shingia · 3 years

Note

hey no worries!! the other 3 for the fight hcs were iwa, omi, and tsumu!

✗ THEIR S/O GET’S SCARED DURING A FIGHT

ok i really hope this is what you expected because i’m afraid that i might have missed a detail in your request since i deleted it :// (if it’s not, feel free to tell me and request it again !) <33

-> bokuto, iwa, kuroo, yams, atsumu, sakusa

⊹ BOKUTO

• it was just a little argument that you two had on the phone. but bokuto had never raised his voice at you until now, and it was enough to make your stomach twist nervously

• when he entered your apartment about fifteen minutes later, bokuto thought you might have gone to bed already, so he tried to be as quiet as possible

• but no, you were still up, obsessing over the fight. and since you didn’t hear the front door open, you flinched when he entered the kitchen, instinctively stepping back until your back hit the counter

• bokuto’s frown of fatigue immediately vanished at the sight of you huddled in a corner, visibly scared

• « baby what’s wrong ? » he asked, not thinking for one second that you could be scared of him. but it only took one glance to your eyes for him to understand. and he was horrified

• « hey, it’s me ! look, it’s just me ! » he repeated, pointing at his face like it was so obvious that he would never ever hurt you

• your shoulders started to relax, but as much as he wanted to run to you for a hug, he only opened his arms and waited for you to come instead

• which you did, after a few seconds of pondering

• « i’m sorry i yelled. i’m so sorry, can you forgive me ? » he pleaded, bottom lip quivering as he remembered the fear in your eyes

• you were used to bokuto’s hugs, but this one was the tightest he had ever given you. and by far

• he refused to take his hands off of you for the rest of the evening, either stroking your back, your arms or just holding you close against him

• and he apologized about five more times before you two went to bed

⊹ IWAIZUMI

• iwa had wanted to punch many people in his life. but you had never ever been one of them

• however, he tended to be pretty expressive during your arguments. up to the point that you got genuinely scared when he slammed his hand on the table

• « oh come on i’m not gonna hit y- » he started, not realizing the extent of your fear until he saw your shaky hands. « hey… hey, come here. you know i would never hit you, right ? i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have done that »

• he felt like shit, obviously but the anger he felt towards himself would have to wait, because right now you needed his undivided attention

• he reached out his hand for you to grasp before gently pulling you in his embrace. his arms were barely touching yours, like he was afraid of being too abrupt

• « look, it’s forgotten. whatever it was i was mad about, it’s behind us. i promise » he told you, placing the softest kiss on top of your head.

• he wanted nothing more than to bring you to your bedroom and give you the best cuddle session of your life. but then again, he was scared that you might not be ready for that much physical contact

• so he decided that he would first give you a glass of water first, before asking you if you were comfortable cuddling with him

• and you were, although the glass of water had been much needed

• iwa had never been one to pepper you with kisses at the first opportunity, but today was an exception. and a big one

⊹ KUROO

• all it took was for kuroo to put his hand behind his neck in annoyance for you to take a step backwards

• « please don’t » he heard you mutter, eyes closed like you were expecting the worst

• his heart dropped to his stomach in less than a second. he had never thought he would ever see you react like that to something he did

• whatever he was previously mad at you for was long forgotten - the only thing that mattered was your shaking figure in front of his distraught eyes

• his hands cupped your cheeks with the greatest care as he looked for anything in your body language that could show you were uncomfortable

• but it seemed like your fear had passed, some of it at least. so he took a few steps towards you, little by little not to scare you, and leaned slightly so that your faces were at the same height

• he loved that you were smaller than him, but right now the last thing he wanted was too look down on you

• « no matter the circumstances, no matter how tired or upset i am, i would never even think about hurting you. do you understand ? »

• you nodded quietly, trying your best to hold his gaze. his hands were warm on your face, and it reminded you of all the times they had already touched you - always with infinite tenderness and never ever in a hurtful way

• « come here » he smiled, encouraging you to come closer

• as soon as he felt your head rest on his chest, he wrapped the both of you in his jacket, keeping you as close to him as humanly possible

• « we’re staying like this until one of us has to pee »

⊹ YAMAGUCHI

• never in a million years would you ever think yamaguchi could hit you. but it didn’t mean that it was impossible for you to get scared during your arguments

• they were so rare that it felt like he was seconds away from breaking up with you. and just the thought of that made you panic rather quickly

• yamaguchi was so caught up in his ranting that he was more talking to himself than you, really. but that’s also why he didn’t notice your obvious fear immediately

• you were nervously playing with your hands, giving him an absolutely terrorized look that got him to stop talking as soon as his eyes met yours.

• but the sudden silence only made your fear grow stronger. this is it, you thought as your eyes began to fill with tears

• « please… » you implored with a shaky voice. his jaw slackened in shock. were you… scared of him ? your teary eyes sent a shiver down his spine - he had to make this right

• his cold hands wrapped around yours, holding them carefully as if they were the most precious of treasures

• « i’m sorry » he told you even though he was not really sure of what had scared you so much « are you… are you ok ? »

• the more seconds passed, the more scared he was. and as ironically as it sounded, he started to fear that you might want to break up with him

• hearts tight with apprehension, you two spoke at the exact same time : « please don’t leave me »

• just as you were about to pull the other in for a hug, you stopped in your tracks, taken aback by what had just happened.

• yamaguchi let out a shy chuckle, and you were quick to do the same, both relieved that you two were still madly in love no matter what

⊹ ATSUMU

• atsumu was dramatic, you knew that. and it was one of the reasons why you loved him so much

• however, him being his dramatic self during a fight was definitely not something you were comfortable with

• he was very demonstrative, especially with his arms. and each of his movements made you fear the worst

• but the second he heard you whimper in fear, you can be sure that he immediately stopped moving, keeping his arms up for a few seconds while he stared at you with wide eyes

• « don’t hit me please » you pleaded, eyes shut closed like you were expecting his fist to land on your face any second

• atsumu absolutely refused to believe he had heard you right. but he had to face the facts : you were shaking like a leaf and your eyes were filled with apprehension

• he was always more than happy to initiate physical contact with you, but right now it felt like he was pulled towards you by an unknown force

• he didn’t even think about what he was doing, just wrapped his arms around your shoulders and rested his chin on your head like he was trying to hold as much of you as he could

• « what kind of sick bastard would hurt someone as cute as ya… » he muttered, not even expecting an answer « hey uh… can ya hug me back whenever ya feel like it ? just to let me know yer alright »

• you took a deep breath to calm your nerves, letting his cologne invade your sense of smell before slowly wrapping your arms around him

• atsumu let out a loud sigh, his chest rising and falling against your cheek. then, his hands made their way to your thighs before scooping you up and heading to the living room

• « here, i gotta make amends » he smiled before sitting you on the couch and slumping over you with the stupidest smile on his lips

⊹ SAKUSA

• you had never heard sakusa yell. and as much as you were glad to have a calm boyfriend, it also meant that he could get scary pretty fast during your arguments

• because quiet anger was often much worse than explosive anger

• you had noticed that his fists were clenched, but he was still not raising his voice and it seemed like he had no intention of doing so

• « this is seriously starting to piss me off… » he mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers, which only accentuated your feeling that his anger was just bottled up, and that it would eventually blow up

• so as soon as he raised a hand to run it through his hair, you let out a frightened gasp and stumbled backwards in panic

• sat on the floor, you didn’t dare to take your eyes off of him. and this was a sight that sakusa knew he would never forget. you looked terrorized, like a deer caught in the headlights

• the first thing he did was to kneel down to rest a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

• « are you ok ? » he asked, both referring to your fall and to whatever was going on in your mind « did i… did i scare you ? »

• the piteous sniffle that you let out broke his heart. and it was enough for him to pull you against his chest, letting you sit between his legs as he rested his chin on your shoulder

• he had never felt so guilty, and he was ready to spend hours holding you in his arms if needed

• « i love you. keep that in mind » he whispered, placing a quick kiss on your cheek « and i promise you, for as long as i live, nobody will ever lay a hand on you »

• he spent the rest of the day being the most attentive and cuddly he had ever been, even after you assured him that you were ok.

• and he even gave you two of his sweaters, just to make sure he was completely forgiven

@toworuu @catwithangerissues

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #bokuto koutarou #bokuto headcanons #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo headcanons #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi headcanons #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi headcanons #miya atsumu #atsumu headcanons #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa headcanons

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snelbz · 3 years

Text

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 3}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2807

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Poseidon

– God of the seas, earthquakes, horses and tidal waves

Aelin had moved past hurt.

Now, she was just pissed.

It was nearly ten o'clock after her second day of classes and she sat cross legged on the couch with Lysandra in her apartment.

Her roommate had been a worthy rant partner thus far. She’d kicked Aedion out and supplied Aelin with an endless supply of alcohol.

“It’s official. I’m sitting in your Thursday class.”

Aelin groaned, taking a long drink from her wine glass. “Don't remind me that I have to go back there, please. The thought of sitting through an entire semester with him as my teacher… Oh, gods.”

Lysandra refilled Aelin’s glass.

“You’ve done the hookup thing before,” Lysandra said, shrugging as she took a drink from her own glass. “Just pretend this is one of those situations and he meant absolutely nothing.”

“That’s impossible, for two reasons,” Aelin said, adjusting the pillow she had squished between her legs. She held up a finger. “One, it’s not like the regular hookup situation where I might see him across campus or in a bar and we can pretend we don’t know each other. This is my professor we’re talking about.” She took a very large drink of her wine and held up another finger. “Secondly, it was supposed to be a hookup, but then he turned out to be perfect and I just…” She let her head fall back against the cushions. “Do you think I just want him because I can’t have him?”

“Maybe,” Lysandra admitted, but she hadn’t ever been in a situation like this. She and Aedion had been inseparable since high school. “What does your gut say?”

“I don’t know, they’re still in knots from where he rearranged them with his huge dick,” Aelin replied, draining her wine glass.

Lysandra nearly sprayed her wine across the couch, but she knew Aelin was well and truly drunk if she was talking like that.

“So, he still means something to you, then?” Lysandra asked. “Even after you found out he’s your professor, and also a little bit of a dick, apparently.”

Aelin shot her a look. “No, I’m drunk off my ass because he means nothing to me. Have you not been listening?”

Lysandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’ve been listening. But, after two hours things just start to blur together and not make sense.”

Aelin hit her roommate with her pillow.

Lysandra only laughed. “Maybe sit and think on it for a few days, yeah? Maybe it’s new and exciting and he’s hot as hell, but all that will fade if it meant nothing.”

Aelin nodded, slowly, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “And if it doesn’t fade? If it actually meant something?”

“If it actually meant something, then he won’t be forgetting about you any time soon, either,” Lysandra said, sipping from her glass.

She was still on glass #1.

Aelin had lost count of how many glasses she had drained so far.

“Doesn’t make it any easier now,” Aelin said, that hurt creeping its way back in. “You should’ve seen him, Lys. This morning, at his apartment, it was just…perfect. Then when he saw me in class, he was a completely different person.”

“Have you tried to see this from his perspective, Ace?” Lysandra asked, standing and heading into the kitchen. She handed Aelin a cold water bottle when she returned, falling back onto the couch next to her.

“Of course,” she snapped, opening the lid. “And I get it, it’s a big deal, but it’s not like I’m underage. I’m twenty-one, not sixteen. It’s not like he broke the law.”

“No, but I’m sure there’s a bylaw somewhere in his contract that says Don’t fuck your students,” Lysandra drawled, tucking her legs between her.

Aelin mumbled, “I bet it doesn’t say exactly that.”

“No, I’m sure it’s more along the line of inappropriate misconduct, but if we’re getting specific, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find an example,” she replied, leveling Aelin with a stare.

“Calm your pre-law ass down, I get it,” Aelin sighed, drinking from the water bottle. “His aunt is the president of the university. I wouldn’t want him to get into any trouble with her.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “He probably just got scared. I hear he’s a new professor. This must be his first year here. Hell, if he’s as young as you say, this must be his first year anywhere.”

Luck. He’d gotten the job purely out of luck, out of his connections to the university, and here Aelin was, jeopardizing his career as soon as it began.

“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?” She asked, quietly, before draining her glass.

“You have the right to be hurt,” Lysandra said. “I’m not saying you don’t have that right, because I’d be hurt, too. But, I definitely think that this is complicated as hell.”

Aelin nodded, and took a drink of water before pouring the last of the wine into her glass. “We’re going to need another bottle of this, Lys.”

“I would just take you to the bar,” Lysandra said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk you fucking any of the other faculty.”

Aelin’s eyes snapped to hers.

Lysandra sucked in her lips to stop her grin. “Too soon?”

Aelin nudged her best friend, unable to stop her sputtering laughter. “Bitch.”

Lysandra caught her before she leaned back across the couch and held onto her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “I know this sucks, Ace, and I know you liked him. But just give it time. Either you’ll move on, which I can always help with, or something will happen. It’s not like you won’t be seeing him every other day.”

She sighed, resting her head on Lysandra's shoulder. “I know… I know.”

Lysandra reached for the remote, turning the television on. “What would make you feel better? Sappy love story, trashy reality tv, or a horror flick?”

“Trashy tv,” she decided, if for no other reason than it would be easy for her to block out while she still wallowed in her own misery.

Lysandra did as she was told, refilling Aelin’s glass again, and she thanked her best friend.

All the while, Aelin wondered how pissed Rowan was, or if he was feeling the same way she was.

A knock on Rowan’s door around nine-thirty had him closing his laptop and throwing it open. He groaned when he found Lorcan on the other side, walking back inside and leaving his best friend to let himself in.

“Alright, fill me in on Little Miss Perfect you took out last night. She was all you could talk about this morning, and then boom.” He sat down on the couch next to Rowan, noticing the half empty bottle of bourbon and looked at him. “Radio silence for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be going home to your girlfriend?”

“She’s out with Manon,” Lorcan said, blowing off the question. “I’m bored, so talk.”

Rowan sighed, pushing himself up to go into his kitchen. He came back a moment later, two glasses in hand. He supposed he couldn’t continue to drink out of the bottle with company.

After handing Lorcan a half-filled glass, Rowan said, “It’s just not going to work.”

“You decided that quickly,” Lorcan muttered, his eyes remaining locked on Rowan. “Did you google her after she left? Find something cringeworthy?”

Rowan sipped from his glass. “She’s just not who I thought she was, that’s all.”

Lorcan scoffed. “You’re being vague.”

Rowan shrugged. That seemed to be the only answer he was going to give him.

“So what?” Lorcan asked, crossing an ankle over his knee and swirling the contents of his glass. “She lied and you caught her?”

“No, she didn’t lie,” Rowan said, dragging a hand down his face. “But it can’t happen. So it won’t.”

Lorcan raised one dark eyebrow. “First you say won’t, now you say can’t.”

Rowan emptied his glass. “What about it?”

“Well, which one is it?” He asked, leaning back. “Those two have very different meanings.”

“It can’t and it won’t,” he replied, giving Lorcan a pointed look.

Lorcan snorted, but took a drink from his own glass. “You act like she’s one of your students.”

Rowan didn’t say a word. He only stared at his closed laptop.

It took Lorcan a few seconds to understand Rowan’s silence. And a few more before he figured out how to make his mouth work.

And when he did, he started laughing.

“Are you kidding me, Whitethorn?” He asked, clutching his stomach. “You fucked your student?”

“Fuck off,” Rowan muttered, refilling his glass.

Lorcan was hardly able to breathe. “It was your first day at your first big boy job, and you already found yourself in bed-.” His words faded away as his laughter consumed him.

“It’s not like she’s some freshman,” Rowan snapped. “She’s about to graduate. Twenty-one. I just…” Rowan groaned as his face fell into his hands. “Someone had recommended the bar to me and told me the faculty hung out there a lot. I just assumed she was one of them, since she was the one to suggest the place.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Lorcan continued, still laughing. “But, people in their twenties don’t often land jobs at renowned universities. You’re the exception.”

Rowan continued to drink.

“Alright, alright,” Lorcan continued, taking a deep breath. “You’re five years older than her, so what? I’m four years older than Elide. Once you both hit twenty, age is just a number.”

Rowan shot him a look. “She’s a student, Lor. Maeve will fire me in a heartbeat over any sort of misconduct. This…” He just shook his head. “This position is a once in a lifetime opportunity that I probably shouldn’t even have. I can’t ruin it.”

Lorcan knew full well how harsh Rowan’s aunt could be. Before she’d become president of a prestigious university, she’d been the dean at the boarding school he and Rowan had spent their adolescence at. “So either move on or be careful and don’t let her find out.”

Rowan blinked at his friend. He was being so casual about this, when Rowan was freaking out both inside and out, which had required a two hour gym session earlier to calm his nerves.

Lorcan sighed and set his glass down. “Look, I really don’t see the issue here. She isn’t using you to pass the class, right?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Rowan, but he remembered the look of pure and utter shock on her face when they’d seen each other in the classroom. “No, it’s a basic gen ed. Plus I really don’t think she’d ever do that.”

Lorcan nodded. “Right. There are much tougher classes she could try and sleep her way through.” At Rowan’s simmering look at his choice of words, Lorcan held up his hands in placation. “I’m just saying, make sure she’s actually doing her homework and studying for her and don’t let Maeve find out.”

Rowan hesitated, but when his lips opened, nothing came out.

He liked Aelin. He really, really liked Aelin. And, yeah, it had been much more than a hookup. When he’d woken up that morning next to her in bed, he felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Then again, the way he’d snapped at her that morning, knowing that she had only said what she had out of anger - even if she had been correct - would be difficult to come back from.

Rowan had completely shattered her. He saw it in her eyes before she left.

“I don’t know,” Rowan said, at last.

Lorcan groaned before pounding back his drink and pouring himself another. “You’re always going to be the one to stand in the way of your own happiness, Whitethorn.”

He refrained from saying anything. Lorcan had always been the one to hop from girl to girl, while he had always been the one in a committed relationship. After his last relationship had…ended, he hadn’t wanted anyone for a while.

Aelin was the first spark he’d felt since.

“You’re into her,” Lorcan said, staring up at the ceiling to avoid any sort of eye contact while he said something nice. “I can tell. And, if you don’t go for it, you’re going to regret it.”

Rowan knew he was right.

Of course, he was right.

And yet, this job was the first job he had been granted in his field since graduating three years prior with his degree in mythology. Yeah, he may have gotten it because of Maeve, but that didn’t make it any less important to him.

He had the chance to get students excited about something he loved, something he was passionate about.

“Go home to your woman or shut up and turn on the TV,” Rowan muttered, downing the contents in his glass.

Lorcan only snorted and grabbed the remote, fulfilling Rowan’s wishes.

Aelin awoke the next morning with a slight headache and the same dull ache in her chest.

Knowing she needed to move, workout the bad vibes, she tossed up her hair and put on her workout wear before jogging to the gym.

She was still regretting signing up for even one eight am classes, and was thankful her Friday’s were free. She was looking forward to some much needed sleep, which was a lost cause right now.

When she was packing her gym bag, she decided to go straight to class after a quick shower, so she tossed it into a locker after she arrived, locked it up, and put her ear buds in.

The gym was still pretty empty this early, since it wasn’t even eight yet, and most people were too focused on their own workouts to pay attention to those surrounding them. Aelin was grateful for the distraction the gym would provide, and for the physical outlet, as well.

She was just finishing up a mile run on the treadmills when she felt eyes on her. She could tell she was being watched, but didn’t want to look around. Whether it was someone ogling her from across the room or someone from one of her classes, she wasn’t in the mood to make small talk and made her way over to the machines, starting on her legs first. She cranked her music up and kept an eye on the time on her watch.

When there was about forty-five minutes before her first class, she put the free weights she’d been using back in their home and turned to head to the locker room for a much needed shower.

And found who had been watching her during her workout.

Green eyes bored into her own and Aelin felt a blush rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the amount of energy she’d exerted this early in the morning.

Ignoring the voice inside of her head, Aelin stopped in front of Rowan, and nodded. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. His t-shirt clung to him, and it was a fact that Aelin could not ignore.

“I was just going to get ready for class,” she said. “Excuse me.”

She swept past him, but his voice pulled her up short. “Aelin.”

She stilled, and slowly turned around to meet his gaze.

“About yesterday,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. Aelin found the gesture somewhat charming, although she wouldn’t admit it. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t handle the situation right. It all took me by surprise and I reacted poorly. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” she said, looking away from him, down at her feet. “I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m…not proud of it.”

He shook his head. “Let’s just…pretend all of it didn’t happen, yeah?”

She swallowed roughly. “All of it?”

Rowan sighed. “Just because we apologized doesn’t change anything, Aelin. You’re still my student.”

She nodded, not looking at him. “Right. No. I get it. I have to get ready for class.”

Making to slip around him, she got two steps away before his hand wrapped around her wrist. “Aelin, I’m… I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t— I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Daring to take a chance by looking back at him, it nearly destroyed what was left of her when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “But wishing doesn’t change anything, does it?” Aelin pulled her wrist free. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Rowan said nothing, but she saw that her shot landed in his eyes.

She shook it off, though, hurrying away, toward the showers.

Aelin knew one thing was for certain: no matter how much she cared for Rowan Whitethorn, there would never be anything between them.

Even if she wanted there to be.

#snacmc ttf #tempting the fates #rowaelin ttf #snacmc collab #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius

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triptuckers · 3 years

Text

Looking at the wrong one - Jesper Fahey

Request: yes! “Firstly, I just want to say I really love your writing! I’ve had this idea for a while and wanting to find someone to write it because I love it so much. So basically reader has feelings for Kaz but he’s obviously in love with Inej so she confides in Jesper who comforts her and she eventually realizes that he’s been the one for her the whole time. I hope you can write it but if you can’t that’s totally fine too!!” Pairing: Jesper Fahey x reader Summary: Jesper is the first person you go to when you need advice about something - or rather, someone. It takes you a while to realise you’ve been sneaking glances at the wrong person. Warnings: none Word count: 2.7K A/N: I loved this request sm!! been busy busy busy lately so sorry if your request is taking a while for me to write, finish and post! enjoy reading :)

You glance over at Kaz while he’s explaining the blueprints laid out in front of everyone. You’re trying to pay attention to what he’s saying, you really are, but it’s hard. It’s hard to focus on what he’s saying when Kaz is the one who’s talking.

There’s no denying it, Kaz looks good. For weeks you tried to push your feelings away, but soon what started as a little crush developed into something more. And now you can barely keep your eyes off of him.

There’s just something about his mysterious aura. The dark hair, sharp jaw, how he never seems to smile - though you did catch him smile once when he thought no one was looking. There’s so much you don’t know about him, and you’re dying to find out.

Apparently, you’ve been staring at Kaz for a little too long, because you feel someone nudging your shoulder, and turn to face them.

‘You know.’ mutters Jesper to you from the corner of his mouth. ‘If you want to talk about it, or just need to rant and have someone listen to you, I’m always here. I’ve heard I’m excellent company.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ you say. ‘Do you think we can pull this job of?’

You hoped Jesper wouldn’t ask about Kaz again, and he senses your need to change the subject.

‘We better.’ he says. ‘We can score big with this one.’

Jesper starts talking about what he’s going to do once the job is done, but your eyes are already shifting back to Kaz. You can’t help but to feel a knot in your chest as you see him looking at Inej.

While you’re always looking at Kaz, you catch him looking at Inej.

Inej is one of your closest friends, and you would die for her. Hell, you almost did die for her a couple of months ago. Still, you couldn’t help but to feel jealous of her. Of the way Kaz looked at her.

Whenever Kaz was looking at Inej and you caught him, it didn’t take long for you to fall down a rabbit hole of insecure and jealous thoughts.

You’d think of everything Inej can do that you cannot do. She has a gifts for knives, you know your way around guns, not knives. When she’s sneaking around, she almost becomes one with the shadows, you couldn’t soundlessly sneak up to someone even if you tried.

You always concluded Inej was better than you on more than one aspect. You figured she would be a better match for Kaz than you could ever be. You were ashamed of being so jealous of your friend when all Kaz did was look at her. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get rid of the jealousy.

After Kaz has rolled up the blueprints and everyone went over the plan one last time, you say your goodnights and all head back to your own rooms. You’re barely aware of your movements as your legs carry you to your room. When you move to open the door to your room, a familiar whistle makes you look up.

‘The offer for some company still stands.’ says Jesper, and he winks at you before entering his own room, next to yours in the hallway.

While Jesper didn’t have Kaz’ gift for coming up with plans, he wasn’t stupid. He had caught you looking at Kaz a couple of times, then decided to speak up. As soon as the opportunity presented himself, he’d taken you apart from the others and confronted you about your staring.

You were shocked, asking him how he could have possible figured it out. Jesper merely raised his eyebrows and told you you’re always looking at Kaz. You hadn’t realised you looked at Kaz so many times. Ever since, Jesper has offered a listening ear. And though you appreciated it, you weren’t ready to talk about your feelings just yet.

As you’re taking your boots off, your mind wanders to Kaz again. And the way he looked at Inej. He didn’t show his feelings that often, but you couldn’t help but notice how soft his eyes were when he looked at Inej. It drove you crazy, and you didn’t like that it did. You felt like you were going to explode if you kept pushing these feelings down any longer. Maybe having someone listen to you didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

Not bothering to put your boots back on, you get up and leave your room. You take a few steps to get in front of Jesper’s door. Though it’s not that late and he’s probably still awake, you hesitate. What if he just wanted to be a good friend, but wasn’t actually interested in your thoughts on Kaz?

You sigh and shake your head, clearing your mind. You then raise your hand and knock on the door. After a few seconds it opens, revealing Jesper. He’s taken off his coat and boots, leaving him in just a shirt and a pair of trousers. He smiles when he sees you.

‘I see you do want my company?’ he says. ‘Only if you don’t mind.’ you say. ‘Of course not.’ he says, stepping aside so you can enter his room.

You take a seat in the only chair in the room as Jesper closes the door. He walks over to his bed and sits down as you tuck your feet under your legs, getting comfortable.

‘So.’ says Jesper. ‘Am I problem solving or listening?’

You frown at his words. ‘What does that mean?’ you ask him.

‘Well, it’s the easiest way to prevent a fight.’ explains Jesper. ‘If I’m problem solving, I’ll give you advice and come up with solutions. If I’m listening, I’m just going to shut up and, well, listen. So, am I problem solving or listening?’

‘Listening, I guess.’ you say.

‘Alright.’ says Jesper, leaning back against the wall and stretching his legs in front of him. He gestures with his hand to you. ‘Let it all out then, love.’

You don’t know where to begin. Jesper is patient as you’re searching for the words. Without realising, you start to play with your fingers, a habit of yours which you do when you’re thinking or anxious.

‘It starts... Well, when I became a member of the Dregs, I guess. I was young, but Kaz was around my age. We became close friends. That is, as far as being close friends with Kaz goes. I trusted him, he trusted me. We spent months working our way up to the top and along the way you tagged along, and Inej, Nina, Matthias and Wylan. I care about all of you, but there’s just something different about Kaz.’ you tell him.

Jesper looks at you but doesn’t say anything. He’s just listening, exactly like he said he would.

‘It started off as an innocent crush. Saints, I sound like some school girl. Anyway, somewhere along the way that little crush developed into something more. And now I can’t stop looking at him or thinking about him. And now that I’ve said this out loud, I realise you are the first person I’ve talked to about this.’

You’re silent for a while as you look at Jesper. You were afraid he’d laugh at you, but he’s just sitting on his bed, looking at you.

‘I can tell there’s still something else on your mind.’ he simply says. You let out a sigh and nod, and start talking again.

‘He’s always looking at Inej. Whenever I look at him, he’s looking at Inej. I know I shouldn’t feel the way I do, but I cannot pretend it doesn't make me a little jealous. The first time I saw him looking at Inej, I wished he looked at me like that. I know this sounds stupid, but I really can’t help it. And once I catch him looking at her, I start to think about how I’m not worth it.’ you say.

Now Jesper frowns. ‘But you’re worth it.’ he says. You chuckle softly and shake your head.

‘She’s everything I’m not. She’s pretty, she’s very skilled with her knives, she can sneak up to anyone without being seen or heard. She knows the secrets of everyone in the Barrel. She could take down the Merchant council all on her own if she wanted to. I can’t do that.’ you say.

‘I know I said I was listening, but can I just offer you one piece of advice?’ asks Jesper. You nod. ‘You say you notice the way Kaz looks at Inej, I have noticed that as well. He looks at her the way you look at him. Don’t you think you should try to admit to yourself that he’s only going to be looking at her, and not you?’

‘Deep down I know that.’ you say softly. ‘But I can’t fully wrap my head around that. Not just yet, at least.’

‘Alright.’ says Jesper. ‘Maybe not now, but if you give it time, maybe it’ll hurt less.’

You look at him and smile as you get up. ‘Thank you Jesper.’ you say. ‘This is nice. Having someone listen to you.’

Jesper gets up as well as you walk toward the door. ‘The door’s always open to you.’ says Jesper as he opens the door for you. ‘You can always swing by.’

‘Thanks.’ you say as you step out onto the hallway. ‘Goodnight, Jes.’ ‘Night, Y/N.’ he says as you walk the few steps to the door of your room.

After that conversation, your nightly visits to Jesper’s room increase. Sometimes he’s problem solving, sometimes he’s listening, and sometimes you just sit in silence when all you want is some company.

There’s even one night in which you actually fell asleep when you were sitting on his bed, and when you woke up the next morning, you found Jesper sleeping on the floor while using his coat as a blanket. Your heart melted a little, but you decided not to speak up as you snuck out of his room.

Weeks pass, and slowly your visits turn from seeking advice about Kaz to enjoying a conversation with Jesper. He makes you laugh as he tells you stories about how he used to drive his parents crazy doing god knows what at their farm. In return, you tell him about the life you lived before you came to Ketterdam.

Another couple of visits later, and you’ve almost completely forgotten that you originally started visiting Jesper to talk about Kaz. You notice you’ve stopped sneaking glances at Kaz. You’re not even jealous when you catch him looking at Inej again.

Instead, your attention is on Jesper. More than once, he caught your eye and sent a wink you way, making you smile and turn away.

Your nightly visits increase even more, and you can be found in Jesper’s room almost every night, laughing at his jokes.

After a particularly long night that involved keeping tabs on the security of one of the banks for hours, you find yourself in front of Jesper’s room again. Kaz had sent you out on the job, and you had hoped Jesper would be in his room when you got back.

But after knocking three times, he still hasn’t opened the door. You whistle a familiar tune, hoping he’d answer the door. When he doesn’t, you kick over a tiny tin can that sits on the floor next to the door.

‘So predictable.’ you murmur as you bend down to pick up the key that was underneath it. Knowing Jesper probably wouldn’t mind, you let yourself in and walk over to the only chair in the room.

You let yourself settle in and reach out to take the deck of cards Jesper always keeps on his nightstand.

You’re fooling around with the cards, if only to keep yourself busy as you wait for Jesper. You’re shuffling the cards, moving them smoothly in your hands.

‘Can you teach me that?’

At the sudden voice, you drop half of the cards. You hadn’t seen or heard him coming. Jesper chuckles as he walks over and stands behind you, looking out over the city beneath you.

‘This is my favourite view.’ he says, looking out the window.

‘Mine too.’ you say, while you look at the reflection of his face in the window. You then fully realise you haven’t talked about Kaz in weeks, that you just come to Jesper’s room for a conversation and some company, and you remember the night he slept on the floor.

‘Jes?’ you ask him. ‘Yea love?’ he says. ‘The other night when I was here-’ ‘Care to specify which night?’

‘I fell asleep, and when I woke up you were sleeping on the floor.’ ‘Oh, that night.’ he says. ‘Well, would you rather I had pushed you off the bed?’ ‘No.’ you laugh.

Jesper laughs too and you look at each other in silence afterward. It’s a comfortable silence, and he’s the first one to speak up.

‘You haven’t talked about Kaz in a while.’ he says. ‘Finally realised his heart belongs to someone else?’

‘Yes, well, I realised that so does mine.’ you say. This makes Jesper frown.

‘Already moving on?’ he says. ‘Thought your feelings for him were more serious.’

‘They were.’ you say. ‘But I've found someone who listens to me, who sees me, who makes me laugh.’ you cock your head to the side a little and look at him. ‘Nice to look at, as well.’

Jesper raises one eyebrow.

‘Who is this mystery person?’ he says. ‘And am I problem solving or listening?’ ‘Well I hope you’re gonna do something else.’ you say. Jesper frowns again, making you playfully roll your eyes.

‘Not the smartest tonight, are we?’ you say. ‘Let me repeat it: I've found someone who listens to me, sees me, and makes me laugh. and not bad to look at.’

He’s still frowning. ‘Another hint?’ he says. ‘This is why Kaz does the planning and has the brains.’ you say, laughing.‘Rude.’ says Jesper.

‘It’s a he, and he’s caring and sweet, sometimes struggles to sit still, loves a good gunfight, he’s an excellent shot.’ you say.

Jesper smirks at you and then fakes a look of confusion on his face. ‘Still not getting it.’ he says. ‘Tell me more about him.’

You laugh and get up, standing close to him. ‘He’s not just an excellent shot, he’s the best damn sharpshooter in Ketterdam. Saved my ass a couple times as well. Owns a pair of stunningly hand made revolvers. He’s Zemini, taller than me, and..’ your voice drifts off.

‘And?’ says Jesper, stepping closer to you. ‘And I've been wondering if he’s a good kisser.’ you say softly.

‘Well, let’s find out, shall we?’ says Jesper and he cups your face with both of his hands and presses his lips against yours. They’re soft, and you can taste a hint of his last drink on them. He kisses you gently but passionate, and takes a breath when he pulls away.

‘Hmm.’ you say, pretending to think. ‘Yea, pretty good.’

‘Pretty good?’ says Jesper. ‘I've heard I'm more than a pretty good kisser.’

‘Prove it then.’ you say.

Jesper smirks and pulls you in for a kiss once more. This one is different, it’s more demanding, and leaves you breathless as you struggle to keep your knees from buckling.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. ‘How about that?’ he says softly.

You smile and press a quick kiss to his lips. ‘You live up to your reputation, Fahey.’ you say. ‘You’re an excellent kisser.’

‘Just like I thought.’ says Jesper. ‘Do you want to stay here tonight?’

‘I would love to.’ you say.

You spend the rest of the night talking with Jesper until eventually, you feel yourself falling asleep. You feel how Jesper moves next to you, to take his spot on the floor again. You lay a hand on his arm to stop him, silently telling him it’s okay and that he doesn’t have to sleep on the floor.

Kaz wasn’t the right match for you, Inej is. But Jesper certainly is your match.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: Are you having nightmares?

Summary:

"Levi, are you having nightmares?" Hange's tone was more serious. Her brown furrowed,

"I'm fine."

“Well…” Hange hummed. “You can have nightmares and still be fine right?”

“No. I don’t think you can.” Levi kept his own message subtle. He glared right at her.

One hand on her chest, Hange seemed to have gotten the message. “Me?”

“Now that we’re on the topic of nightmares. Are you having nightmares?”

Levi and Hange seem to be having nightmares and Levi tries to get to the bottom of it.

Written for Levihan Week 2021, Day 5: Fairytale

Link: AO3

Notes:

@levihanweek Day 5: Fairytale

I don't know if this is still accepted because it's also so late but I really am hellbent on completing the prompts. I'm still recovering from jetlag and the ten day quarantine and the domestic verse prompts are really just me dealing with some major baby fever.

Hange had a unique way of hiding her true feelings. She was an open book yet an enigma with the exact same breath. And she had always been one, Levi had known her long enough to be sure. The fact that there were so many parts of her he still didn't understand, despite having known her for almost half his life, had been particularly glaring the past few weeks.

Or maybe, Levi was just thinking too far into it.

Levi could have sworn though that something just wasn't right. He had the heavy eye bags, the unshakeable fatigue of almost sleepless nights. In the mornings, he had the bombardment of bustling sounds and soft lights which seemed to contrast annoyingly with his own discomforts.

"Levi, you okay?" Hange asked over a plate of breakfast eggs and basket of bread. Her mood, her approach towards him were just like those of every other morning before.

But Levi had seen too much to be able to stomach it too easily. No, are you okay? He would have liked to ask.

Hange though seemed more occupied with mixing her eggs and rice than with observing whatever expression was on Levi's face (which he could have sworn were heavier than usual) and the sluggish way he was navigating his breakfast.

Without warning, her attention shifted to him, abruptly enough to make Levi jump. "Levi?" Hange waved one hand over his face.

He was lucid enough to see that coming at least. He leaned away from Hange’s touch. "I'm fine. I should be asking you the same thing."

"Hm?" Hange cocked her head innocently to one side. "I'm fine too."

Does your throat burn? Are your eyes swollen? Just a quick look and a quick listen and Levi was sure, Hange was fine, perfectly healthy.

The ordeal every single damn night though was telling another story. And Levi was starting to doubt his own memories. Had he been dreaming?

Loud screams. Fatigue shouldn't have been this vivid if they had just been dreams. Just to be sure of it, Levi pinched himself.

His high pain tolerance, his nonchalance with pain turned out to be an utter inconvenience. Pinching himself had done nothing to wake him up.

It wasn't a dream right? He turned to his son propped on a high chair, still too young to be of any use in that little game of dream versus reality.

"Levi?" Hange asked.

"Yes? What?" If there was anything loud enough to have pulled him out and into reality, it had been his own voice.

"I said I'm leaving for work now."

"See you," Levi mustered weakly.

That day, he didn't accompany Hange to the front door.

***

For his age, Luke had a good handle of words, enough to express the most simple desires. Reading and Comprehension-wise, he was miles ahead for his age bracket and Levi attributed to the time Hange had dedicated to reading to the young boy. If Levi were to be completely honest though, he didn't think a child who barely brushed past the age of one should have been playing more than reading.

Still, there was a convenient pile in the living room right next to the bookshelf. When Levi gathered them in his arms and started to reorganize them on the bookshelf, he found himself the victim of one of his son's whims.

Luke appeared next to him then, pulled at one of the covers with a dragon on it and held it in front of Levi.

"You want me to read it?" Levi asked.

Luke didn't nod but the glimmer in his wide-eyed eyes was enough of an affirmation.

Levi was painfully free not in a hurry to do anything in particular and for once, he didn't have much of a reason to tell Luke 'to wait until dark, until mommy comes home.' In that brief moment, in that silent conversation between father and son, Levi started to notice, he had never read that book to Luke and he wondered why the hell he had never bothered to.

You're his father. Levi scolded himself as he caved into the large pleading eyes of his son.

He settled on the sofa, then he plopped his son right next to him. He held the young boy’s small delicate head onto his lap. Snug and settled, he started to feel for the pages of the book. His eyes landed on the front page for just a second, taking in the red dragon smack at the center.

With nothing else to think about, Levi became a little more aware of the sawdust in his mouth. He was prone to getting so easily self conscious of his voice and he had a strange desire to please his one year old son. He had seen Hange read that book to Luke so many times before.

At that age apparently, most kids seemed to get attached to certain books and that was Luke's favorite. But despite the long hours he spent with the boy, Levi was still a stranger to the plot of the book.

So he started slowly. “Once upon a time, there was a red dragon that lived on top of the hill…”

His voice was naturally soft and Levi suspected as he saw the eyes of his son flutter, that his tone may have been too monotonous.

He started to hear Hange’s voice in his head. She had a way of speaking with a natural cadence. She had a melody, a distinct up and down, then a cadenza to it which probably made the whole reading process a little more engaging for the young boy. Although Levi had never picked up what the story was about, he did immerse himself in whatever melody Hange seemed to sing every time she read aloud.

Levi tried, but he couldn't seem to replicate it. Around the third page, the boy’s breaths evened out, he lay limp on Levi’s lap. They never got past the part where the young dragon left his village in search of his new power.

Levi wasn’t too interested in the plot anyway. One hand cradling his son's head, the other propping his knees up, Levi carried him into the bedroom and tucked him into bed, not giving a second thought about the storybook beyond the need to put it neatly back on the shelf.

***

It didn’t happen everyday but Levi could have sworn, it happened at least thrice a week.

He wasn't good at making accurate estimates though, especially sicne those nights happened too quickly. They happened in blurs. And during those nights, Levi was too busy slipping his hands in between her sides and her arms and he pulled her closer.

The few nights before that, he attempted to wake her but whatever possessed Hange seemed to overpower her. He would try to wake her but it never proved successful. Hange was dead asleep every damn night it happened. Overtime, Levi learned to just play silently, be a good and patient partner and get her through whatever that strange recurring nightmare was.

That consisted of loud nights, screams, short breaths and the occasional long one. Hange let out screams, howls, something Levi had sworn he had never even heard of, even in the middle of the battlefield, bombarded by death after death.

Occasionally, Levi heard a crack in her voice in between screams, followed by some ragged breaths.

It soon became routine and Levi could only do so much. Eventually, her screams deadened into murmurs, then a tranquil silence. Without the trashing, Levi would tighten his embrace. When the sun started to rise, Hange would look back at him and ask him if he were okay. During those moments, Levi was certain, the worst was over. If he were lucky, he had time to fall back to sleep.

One particular morning, when Levi came to his senses again, Hange had turned on her side, her face inches away from him.

She seemed peaceful, calm and just a little amused. Her brown eyes wide, the crinkle and her dimples just a little deeper. She chuckled lightly. “You can let go now.”

***

It was the weekend and Hange was reading that damn book to Luke again.

“Oh no! What happened to the dragon!” Hange asked in mock horror.

"Mommy! What happened?"

“I don't know...” Hange muttered, with over exaggerated confusion. She never gave Luke any freebies when it came to simple questions.

The two were curled up on the sofa again and Levi was in the middle of reorganizing the books on the shelf, and occasionally eavesdropping. When in the middle of doing something as complex as solving his own puzzles in the house, he couldn’t focus on too many things at once.

He did however, pick up the few times Luke roared followed by a laugh from Hange.

“There! That’s it,” Hange said. “The dragon got a new special power…” She was a bundle of pride. She prattled on for a few minutes longer after that.

Having lived with her for years and having worked with her for many years before that, Levi had gotten accustomed to just tuning her out. And everyday he was getting better at tuning his own son when he was starting to sound like Hange when he ranted.

Luke was screaming too, and Hange was laughing. Within the walls of their small apartment, the sounds echoed, bouncing off the walls. Then they rang in his ears.

Levi probably lasted a second, before he gathered the books and started thinking up an excuse for an escape. “I’m going out to the balcony. It’s dirty,” Levi said, his voice a little out of his control.

“Sure!” Hange had stopped her laughs and her and her storytelling only long enough for that, and somehow, that had Levi’s blood slightly seething. He spun around quickly taking in the balcony just outside.

There were unwelcome visitors but for the first time, Levi was welcoming them. And for the first time, Levi was thankful some birds had made a toilet out of the balcony.

At least there was some excuse to clean and leave those two alone.

***

It was one of those nights again. And it just so happened that it had only been a few hours since that lazy afternoon cleaning bird turd on the balcony. Never would Levi have thought that he’d miss the lazy part of that day, even if it involved a pile of birdshit.

If it meant Hange would just stop screaming, if it meant not having to process the weight, the stress, the prickle at his neck.

There was a ringing in his ears. It reverberated. The pain, the discomfort or maybe just the heart wrenching sound was making his eyes water.

Hange was screaming again. It was as loud as every other day before. Levi slipped his hand underneath Hange's side, one under her her free arm, positioned his hands right under her chest and pulled her close. He gritted his teeth. He let out breaths, stayed stiff as she trashed under his grasp.

"I'm here," he murmured. He shushed her soothingly but she probably wouldn't hear it over the sound of her own screams or under the trappings of sleep. Just in case, he buried his face on her neck. He took in her strong scent and willed himself to hold on, and if his body and the sounds allow him any asleep then so will it. If they didn't, so be it.

By some piece of magic or miracle, time moved quickly. He could have dozed off for a second. And maybe Hange had calmed down.

The first sound he processed was the song of the morning birds then the soft even breathing next to him.

A few minutes of flitting in and out of sleep later, Hange spoke up. "Levi…” She struggled weakly out of his embrace. “I have to go to work."

***

"Levi, are you having nightmares?" Hange's tone was more serious. Her brown furrowed, her eyes narrowed. She could have been worried or Levi could have just been another one of her experiments. Most likely, both.

Her own question did have Levi thinking. He could have sworn Hange had been the one having nightmares. Maybe her screams at night were just his own nightmares. Hange had a tendency of playing with his mind though so he stuck with less cooperative answer. "I'm fine."

“Well…” Hange hummed. “You can have nightmares and still be fine right?”

“No. I don’t think you can.” Levi kept his own message subtle. He glared right at her.

One hand on her chest, Hange seemed to have gotten the message. “Me?”

“Now that we’re on the topic of nightmares. Are you having nightmares?”

Hange looked up at the ceiling, seeming deep in thought. “Not really…Why are you asking that?”

Did he tell Hange he had dreams she was screaming? Was that something he should have been worried about? When too many questions were running through his head, Levi chose to bend down and focus on his breakfast, use that brief reprieve as some opportunity to organize his thoughts, maybe find a way to explain the screaming, the need to comfort her in his dreams and then the impulse to hold her close.

He stayed mum for a second too long.

“Might be late for work! See you later.” She was out the door before Levi could even process what the hell had happened.

***

Levi was stuck with Luke again. While still reflecting on Hange’s strange behavior, he would have preferred to be alone.

Children though were a piece of work twenty four seven. He fed the kid, bathed him, dressed him and when he thought it was over, Luke suddenly asked him to read that damn book again.

Three pages into it, it didn’t look like Luke was going to fall asleep anytime soon.

“Keep reading daddy!”

No. Levi was tempted to say it out loud. It was easy not to give into temptation though. There were too many things he could occupy himself with.

Like what’s supposed to happen next? Levi thought to himself. There was something about the dragon going on a journey to discover his true powers. Then his trusty fairy friend coming along with him. It was difficult to do everything at once: read aloud, take in the drawings in the picture book, watch Luke while the young boy pranced around the room and while doing all that, making sense of the plot.

So when Luke asked some question about the story, Levi would just answer ‘yes.’ Once or twice, Luke called told him he was wrong. At the least, Levi was grateful that his son was smart enough to comprehend the plot of a book Hange had read to him endlessly.

A few more pages until the end, and Luke started to roar. The sound bounced on the walls, flew across the room and somehow, Levi found himself jumping at the sound. What the fuck.

Luke was much faster than Levi then. The young boy was skipping around the living room faster, then he started to march, his strides wider. He screamed louder.

“Daddy, do you see the fireball?”

What. Levi raised his eyebrows and nodded. He didn’t see a fireball but he could at make the playtime a little funner for the young boy.

“If I scream louder… it gets bigger!” Then he roared again, louder. He bent forward, pointed his ass back as if that had done anything to make it louder.

He was a toddler. How much louder could he get?

“Do you see the fire?”

Levi nodded. “Yes.” No, he didn't see a fire. It didn't seem right either to kill a toddler's imagination.

“Daddy scream too!”

Levi didn’t concede at first.

But Luke was persistent. “Please!”

He couldn’t bring himself to say no either. He took in a deep inhale, opened his mouth then let out an exhale.

He tried to put some voice into it. He could have sworn he did. Then he started to think, maybe he didn’t.

Luke’s disappointed pout was evidence enough. “Mommy was louder than that..”

***

“Hange, I finished that book.” The words came out of his mouth before he could even why he had decided to say it in the first place. Late at night, during a bout of silence, with his partner being a generally laid back person, Levi didn't think too much anyway about watching his mouth.

Hange looked up at him, the tea cup stopped just inches from her mouth. “Which book?”

“The one you’d read to Luke.”

“Which one?”

“The fairytale book.”

“Which one?”

”The one with the dragon,” Levi said. He sat in front of her with a huff, shaking away the trappings of sleep. It had been a notably exhausting day and it was just one of those few nights that Levi was considering retiring to bed a little bit past midnight.

”Ah yeah, that’s Luke’s favorite.” Hange cupped her tea cup a little tighter, a playful grin on her lips.”It’s fun reading it huh?

Levi didn’t bother to answer that question.“It's an annoying book. Especially if you consider the fact that towards the end, our child starts roaring.”

“Hey, it’s an inspiring story and I think it can teach kids a lot,” Hange said defensively. “A dragon on a quest to find his true powers, defeats a lot of his enemies and he finds out, the fire has been in him all along and all he has to do is let out a loud scream!"

Levi put one hand up instinctively when he spotted Hange taking a deep breath. "You seem invested.."

Hange shrugged. "Well, when you read it enough times, you start dreaming about it."

The key word was ‘dream.’ Soon after, Levi had managed to figure it out for himself. “Wait, wait. You're dreaming about…”

“Being the dragon,” Hange said matter-of-factly. “Like those dreams where I go on that journey, and I meet the wizard and he tells me, the power has been with me all along. And all I have to do is---”

“The power has been with me all along!” The dragon became excited. He inhaled… Then let out a long loud scream.

That was around the time Luke had started screaming. Levi didn’t memorize the story but he was still at least certain enough of that development.

“So in that dream… did you…Scream?” Levi asked.

Hange snapped her fingers excitedly. “Of course, In the story, that’s the only way to breathe the fire right?” she asked, as if she had assumed that Levi had read that book thoroughly.

Levi paused for a moment, and attempted to recall those excruciating episodes. In retrospect, it was easier to notice, Hange’s screams that night weren’t what anyone would have called bloodcurdling.

“Those were pretty vivid dreams…” Hange recounted.

“Very vivid dreams?” Levi corrected. Just like my dreams of you screaming. He had little to no energy though to amend his own response. The more Hange talked about the story, the more excited she seemed. The more she talked about the fire power and the indispensable scream, the more Levi was convinced that her own dreams weren’t a scream.

It all ended with some final confirmation with a soft scream from Hange, similar to the same roar Luke would do in the living room.. When Hange was mimicking the motions of breathing fire that night, it rang heavy, it seemed desperate as if she was running away from something. With the right frame of thought and the right hints, Levi could have sworn Hange had been laughing in between screams.

Laughing. Then screaming, like she was breathing fire. “Hange, how vivid are those dreams?”

“Very vivid.”

“Like...”

“Like…” Hange hummed. “I really remember screaming... Or at least in my dreams. Why?”

“Nothing.”

“You've been having nightmares too right?”

“Well it turns out they weren’t fucking dreams,” Levi grumbled.

“What?” Hange blinked, a confused look on her face.

Levi pushed the chair back and stood up. “Let’s go back to bed.”

“Hey, I’m not yet done drinking.”

“Then hurry up. I’m going to bed.”

That was an empty threat. Levi wouldnt’t have left Hange or retired without cleaning out the tea cups and saucers on the table.

And it looked like Hange saw through it. She smirked playfully. “You serious? You're sleeping this early?”

His eyelids heavy, his mouth trembling in frustration, Levi gathered his own saucer then Hange's. "I haven't been sleeping well these past few nights."

"You're really having nightmares huh? You wanna talk about it?"

"After I've slept enough," Levi said coldly as he brought the dishes to the sink. “We can talk in the morning.”

Hange was persistent. "But you might sleep better if you talk about it right? It doesn't make any sense that you're going to bed and you're gonna risk dreaming about it again."

"I'm. not. having. nightmares." Levi raised his voice over the sound of the water running and the sound of the scrubbing of saucers and cups. "I just said I'm not sleeping well."

There was a pregnant pause. "You wanna see a doctor?" Hange asked hesitantly.

"No. I'm fine," Levi said.

"If we don't talk about this, we won't be able to find a way to fix it." Hange was annoyingly matter-of-fact about it.

But then, Hange usually got the hint. Both of them could usually talk in hints and details more than in actual conclusions and they would also stumble upon some sort of resolution. Maybe the truth was just so farfetched, or maybe Levi's own speculation was just too out of this world that Hange hadn't figured it out for herself.

Then he lost confidence in his speculation. If a genius like couldn't figure it out, then maybe it wasn't true? "Maybe you wanna try not reading that book first?"

"The dragon book?" Hange asked, Of course it was the dragon book. Hange seemed to be stalling and late at night, she seemed to have caught the exhaustion that had been plaguing Levi.

"Yes, that damn fairytale you've been reading to Luke."

Hange looked up, seeming deep in thought. It looked like with time, she was able to put two and two together. A few seconds later, she spoke up. "Am I... screaming in my sleep?"

The cups and saucers cleaned. Levi put them on the tray to dry, looked back at Hange and nodded slowly.

"And that's why you've been holding me in the mornings," Hange continued, a look of utter comprehension in her face. She could have been explaining a new discovery to one of the government officials.

"Yes," Levi answered, his tone firm. Hange's own revelation had been enough to take some of the weight off Levi's shoulders. "Let's go to the room."

When they had settled on the bed, turned off the lights, Hange was still speaking. She was sitting up on her side of the bed and she didn't look like she was in a hurry to sleep any time soon. "And that's why you've been looking so tired lately. God, Levi I was so worried about you too."

Levi mumbled something but he didn't bother to figure out what. He was in and out of sleep already. It was Hange and her loud domineering voice which still managed to tear into that in between state.

"What now?" Hange asked. "If I sleep now..."

"Sleep..." Levi murmured.

She got that part at least. "If I sleep, I'm gonna end up screaming again."

"Baby steps, don't read that damn book." Levi mumbled louder and he hoped it was clear enough for her to understand.

"But Luke---"

"Sleep."

"Levi..."

"Sleep."

Hange could have protested for a few more moments after that but Levi didn't remember the rest of it. The next time he awoke was almost an hour later, once again to loud screams then ragged breaths. To an excuse to slip his arms around her once again and bring her closer to him in one tight hug.

"Baby steps," he whispered just to himself. Baby steps.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #lhweek2021 #levihanweek2021

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