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dangerouslyallaboutdraco · 3 years

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Could you write a Draco Malfoy x Slytherin !Potter!reader. Y/N and Draco have been dating since first year but haven’t told anyone because people think she might be the only “good slytherin” and to prevent Harry from freaking out they stay quiet till the Quitage World Cup where she goes with Draco and his father and spent the summer with them rather than the weasles . Pansy and Blaise know about Y/N and Draco because the 4 of them became best friends through the years (and reader won’t be only friends with Harry’s friends) . Harry and Y/N get into an argument when they return to Hogwarts the summer of the Triwizard cup and how she’s a traitor (EVEN tho that’s her house) and a disgrace for being with him. So she accepted that and that he hates her so she spends the next year mainly with her house giving the trio the cold shoulder and when the war happened draco and his mother protected her and hid her so Harry was looking for her that time but she was gon so after the war the 4 (Draco Pansy and blasé) walk into the great hall and the golden trio see that Y/N is engaged to Draco and Harry just apologizes and they catch up after all those years.

The Potter Twins

A/n: This has got to be one of the best requests I've ever seen anyone answer. I'm so gratefully you asked me to write it!! Thank you. Also, I did use lines from the book just to make the story work. I could have probably written a whole series so this is very long, I'm sorry. @loxbbg

"Y/n Potter." Professor McGonagall's shrill voice boomed. Just like that, the whole school's attention was on Y/n.

So many students, so much older than her, all focused on her. Probably, she had only just discovered, because of her last name.

The girl and the boy who lived. Apparently, they were famous.

On their 11th birthday, she hadn't expected a giant wizard man to come and whisk the twins away from the horrible Dursleys. But, he was nice and he knew their parents.

Y/n was always treated better than Harry. Aunt Petunia seemed to love her more, even letting her have a big bedroom.

Hagrid, she found out, had taken them shopping and brought them ice cream. While she thought it was all a hallucination when she was able to run through a wall, she knew something strange was happening.

After that, she had met a redhead, Ron. He was dorky but kind to the siblings. And, he seemed to know a lot about the wizarding world.

Y/n took a few tentative steps before sitting on the stool. She was hyperaware of the fact everyone was watching, not able to keep the blush off her cheeks.

The heavy hat was draped onto her head, weighing her down.

"Hmm, the other Potter. You would do good in Gryffindor." The hat whispered to her, making her widen her eyes. She hadn't expected it to talk. It was an object. How could it possibly talk?

Y/n was amazed at the whole thing. It still felt like a dream. The great hall was phenomenal, and she couldn't wait to explore the castle. It was unreal.

Y/n flicked her eyes to her brother. He was already sitting at the Gryffindor table, smiling at her. She hoped she would get to be with him, even though she didn't grasp the house concept. Plus, he was near the other girl, Hermione.

Hermione seemed to know a lot about wizards, and Y/n wanted to be informed. It was like she had finally discovered her missing part.

"I remember your parents. I think you could do just like them." The hat continued. Y/n kept hoping. Hoping she wouldn't go without Harry. The thought of her parents made her heartache, she knew so little about them, but she had heard so much about them in the last few days.

"Slytherin!" The hat roared. Y/n's eyes instantly widened, looking frantically at her brother. How was it possible? The hat had decided she would do good in Gryffindor. She wanted to be with her brother and Ron and Hermione.

Just like that, the hat was off her head. Y/n was speechless as she wandered over to the Slytherin table. Somehow, they all looked mean.

She hadn't noticed who she sat next to until the boy spoke. "I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." He introduced himself, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Y/n Potter." Y/n introduced, despite knowing he already knew.

"I'm Pansy Parkinson." A girl with short black hair interrupted their conversation. "We're going to be sleeping in the same dorm, do you want to be friends?" She asked. A picture of confidence.

Y/n didn't know what to do but nod. "Yeah."

"Now shove off, Parkinson. We're talking." Draco interrupted the girls.

Y/n looked concerned at Pansy, but she didn't look offended at all. "Don't worry. Dracie and I have been friends since we were kids. He doesn't mean it." She reassured the girl, noticing her surprised look. The nickname made Y/n giggle, recognising the look on Draco's face as disgust.

"We're not friends." Draco joked, stoic face. Pansy hit him on the arm.

Y/n liked them already. She could tell they would be good friends. Plus, they filled the gap she was missing, not having Harry next to her.

Harry managed to get a chance to talk to Y/n after the feast. He quickly wrapped her in his arms, comforting his sister.

"I'm sorry we're not in the same house," Y/n told him, feeling guilty.

Harry shook his head. "It's not your fault. It's that weird hat's."

"It's strange, isn't it?" Y/n giggled, not feeling like crying anymore. "I don't know what so much of this means." She continued, feeling nervous about the whole situation.

"I know." Harry agreed with a nod. "We'll get through it together. I just want to know more about mum and dad, and it's good if we don't have to stay with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon." Y/n nodded to that. They were horrible people. "We should go to our rooms now. It'll be okay." He comforted her.

She gave him another quick hug. "Thanks, Harry." She told him before turning around to walk off.

"Wait, Y/n!" Harry called, she spun back around to face him. "I've heard Malfoy is bad news, be careful." He warned. Y/n nodded, reassuring him she'd be cautious.

She didn't believe it, though, as she skipped off to the common room.

It was only a week into classes when Y/n figured out not everyone at Hogwarts was nicer than the Dursley's. Mainly Professor Snape. For no reason, he seemed to hate Harry. They dissected it later in Hagrid's cottage.

"'S 'cause yeh look like yer mum." Hagrid offered as an explanation. That confused the twins and Ron, who came with them. Hagrid sighed, realising he had to explain it. "Snape loved her, way back, but she married yer dad. He couldn' stand yer dad. Anyway, tha''s all history now. Unfortunately, he's one to hold a grudge. Don' let it bother yeh." He told the children.

Harry just sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Okay, I'm used to Dudley, anyway." He figured Hogwarts was a lot better than the Dursley's house.

"What about yeh, Y/n, how's Slytherin? They're not pickin' on yeh?" Hagrid asked, switched his attention to the small girl.

"It's alright. I've made lots of friends." Y/n had actually had a rather good week. She'd befriended Pansy and a girl named Daphne. As well as Draco, with who she was very close. That was just in her house. Somehow, she'd managed to sit next to Hermione in a class, Lavender too, and a girl named Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff.

"Good." Hagrid nodded. "Yeh best be off now." He told them, taking the last sip of his drink.

The 3 of them nodded, getting up and leaving the cottage.

"You know, we've got our first flying lesson next week?" Ron asked the twins, trying to brighten the mood. He could tell they were both thinking about their parents.

Y/n did know. Draco had talked about it nonstop. He was beyond excited.

Harry nodded as well. "I'm not sure I'm going to be any good." He mentioned, lightly blushing.

"I'm sure you'll both be fine. It is in your blood." Ron told them. Y/n and Harry both looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, confused about what he meant. However, he didn't elaborate.

Y/n went to watch Harry's first Quidditch practise, despite him telling her not to. He said it was a waste of time when it was just practice. But she was extremely proud of him. She knew their parents would be proud too.

So she hid in the Slytherin bleaches, hoping Harry wouldn't spot her.

It was slightly chilly, the night wind whipping at her skin. That's when she felt the drape on a coat on her shoulder.

Y/n whipped her head around to see who it was, only to be met with the blonde's features. She definitely had a bit of a crush on him. He was cute and the first boy who had ever paid her attention.

Draco took a seat next to her, giving her a smile. "Hi." He whispered.

"Hi, Dray." It was a nickname she had quickly picked up, noticing how it made him blush. "You don't have to sit out here." She assured him.

"I want to," Draco confirmed.

Y/n knew he was jealous. Draco had done nothing but talk about how much he loved Quidditch. And Harry, who he thought was a blood traitor, had gotten all his success. So it was big that he wanted to sit with her.

They watched in silence before Draco spoke. "Did you know Pansy is dating Blaise?" He asked her.

Y/n shook her head rapidly. "I thought she liked you."

Draco stuck his tongue out in disgust. "No, I hope not. I did have a question though..." He trailed off, cheeks heating pink. He was bouncing his knee up and down nervously.

Y/n had never seen him like that. "What is it?" She asked.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" Draco asked hesitantly. Y/n immediately nodded, accepting the offer. She had never felt happier and more relieved.

"Of course, Dray." She agreed immediately his face relaxed. Y/n reached over and laced her fingers in his, not concerned about how sweaty his palms were. "We can't tell Harry though." She suddenly realised, remembering her brother's words. Draco had never been kind to any of the Gryffindor's, despite them being her friends.

Draco nodded. "Okay." He accepted. Y/n was very thankful he agreed to her request.

3rd year was the most stressful yet, for Y/n. She and Draco were still secretly dating, much to Blaise and Pansy's surprise. They couldn't believe how long it had lasted. But Y/n and Draco were drawn to each other, as friends and lovers.

Summer break was also difficult for Y/n. Aunt Marge's visit had ruined the twins birthday. On top of that, apparently, a psychotic wizard had escaped. The Dursley's didn't understand what that would mean. But Y/n and Harry saw just what dark magic could do to Ginny Weasly last year. It was devastating and powerful.

Y/n ran away with Harry when he blew up Aunt Marge. Aunt Petunia had started being much meaner to her, the older she got. While Y/n didn't know Lily, she thought it might have been the reason Aunt Petunia started shunning her.

So, she stayed at the leaky cauldron with Harry. It was the first time she felt happy to not have parents, there were no rules.

Y/n was hiding something. All the letter her owl, Edwige, was bringing her. All from Draco. She figured Harry was too tied up in his own life to think anything was odd. He probably assumed it was Hermione.

The whole train ride all Harry, Ron and Hermione wanted to talk about was terrifying Sirius Black who was trying to murder the twins.

The train's sudden stop frightened Y/n. As the compartment grew cold, she thought it was Sirius, there to kill them. When the Dementor's bony fingers slide open the door, her heart raced, almost beating out of her chest.

This was it. She was going to die from a faceless ghost. It started to suck the life out of Harry and she froze, not knowing how to help her brother.

Thankfully, the cloaked figure in the corner sprung up, scaring the spirit away.

Y/n rushed to get to Harry, but he had already fainted. He was dazed and confused when he woke, Lupin, as Y/n had come to known, handing him some chocolate.

Once Lupin had re-explained what happened, to Harry, he left.

The Potter twins connection let Y/n feel the fear Harry was in, despite being the braver.

Y/n was more than happy to get off the train, being able to sit next to her boyfriend. The Gryffindor table couldn't see them, so they were free to subtly hold hands.

It didn't feel the same that year. Draco was much darker and meaner. He was mean to Hermione and Hagrid, two of Y/n's companions. She didn't understand it.

Their relationship issues came to a head on the date of Buckbeaks execution. Draco and Y/n didn't agree on the situation but it got worse as she roamed the castle with Harry, Hermione and Ron.

As soon as Y/n saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle hiding behind that rock she knew today was going to be her breaking point. She didn't understand why he couldn't just shut his mouth and not say anything.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he’s supposed to be our teacher!" The look on his face was pure disgust. His eyes flicked up to meet Y/n's, not back down from the remarks he'd made as she stared him down.

It was then she realised it. He cared more about maintaining his arrogant reputation than he did his own girlfriend. The thought broke her heart.

Harry and Ron both marched to him, with Hermione one step ahead. Y/n awkwardly stood there, not knowing how to come between her secret boyfriend and friends.

Hermione got to him first, landing a solid punch to his nose. It was as hard as she could, landing a solid sound.

Draco stumbled back, Crabbe and Goyle rushing to hold him up. He gave Y/n a final look as he ran past her.

Y/n's eyes were already filling with tears. Hermione noticed. "Are you alright?" She asked.

She quickly thought up a lie. "I'm sorry... It's just all of this with Buckbeard is difficult. Can you tell Hagrid I'm really sorry?" She stuttered out, the tears streaming down her cheeks.

They all brought the lie, Harry wrapping her in a hug before they walked off. She stood there and cried for a few minutes, all alone. Like no one in the world cared about her.

It quickly turned to anger, her blood boiling. She stormed off to the Slytherin common room, knowing Draco was too proud to go to the hospital wing.

She found him there, on the couch, Crabbe and Goyle at his side.

"I can't believe Granger," Draco exclaimed, not noticing Y/n. "She's a filthy mudblood I could easily get expelled."

"Tell your father." Goyle prompted. Crabbe and Goyle were the best henchmen, dumb and wanting to cause trouble.

"Goyle, Crabbe, I need to speak to Malfoy," Y/n announced. They didn't understand what she meant. "Alone." They finally understood, scurrying out of the room.

Draco didn't look concerned, his eyes challenging her. "What do you want? Hanging out with your idiot twin, that poor, blood traitor Weaslbee and mudblood Granger." He was just as pissed as Y/n was. Maybe, it was the anger for Granger he was taking out on Y/n.

She couldn't hide it anymore. "We're done." She told him. "I cannot be with you when you hate everyone that loves me."

"Fine." Draco shrugged. "I don't care."

That was the last thing Y/n heard from him as she stormed to her dorm room, a sobbing mess. Pansy quickly wrapped her in a hug, not needing to know what happened.

It was the end of term before Y/n even looked in Draco's direction again. She spent all those nights silently sobbing. The slight silver lining was she had gotten much closer to Harry, Hermione and Ron, no longer spending hours with Draco.

He'd trapped her when she was alone in the bleachers, just like he did on their first week.

He didn't place a jacket on her, rather some sunglasses. "Hi." He murmured, hesitantly sitting next to her. Draco was sure Y/n hated him.

"Hey." She replied. The truth was, she missed him. Draco was a part of her, they had grown up in love. They were never meant to fall out of it.

"Enjoying your last day?" Draco asked awkwardly. They felt like they were back in their first year, acting self-consciously.

She nodded, not interested in his small talk. "Yeah, I'm all packed as well." She still refused to look at him.

"I'm sorry." It came tumbling out like he didn't know how to say it. That made her turn her attention to him.

Y/n couldn't help but love him. She never wanted to break up, ever. "Me too." She replied.

Y/n wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug. He just looked so precious.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" Draco asked, the question was phrased differently this time but it still reminded her of the shy first year.

"Yes." Y/n agreed. She had never known heartbreak like being without Draco.

"Also... I want it to be real this time." That made Y/n worry. She didn't want Harry to find out yet. There was no one Harry hated more. "Will you stay with us these holidays? And come to the Quidditch World Cup?" He asked shyly. That was the bashful boy she adored.

So far, Y/n's plans were to go to the Durley's. She'd just lie to them and say she was staying with Pansy. They wouldn't care because they didn't love her.

'Yes." Y/n told him. "I'm terrified to meet your parents." She admitted.

Draco took her hand in his. "Love, you have nothing to worry about." He assured her. In truth, he also had doubts about his father. Y/n was a Potter.

Once they left the bleachers, Y/n went to see Harry. The trio was in the courtyard.

"Oh Y/n, we were looking for you." Ron pipped up as she took a seat next to them. She tried to not blush too much. "Do you want to come to the Quidditch World Cup with us?" He asked. Uh oh.

"I'm really sorry. I told Pansy I'd go with her family." Y/n lied once again. She felt terrible doing it but she had to. Plus, they weren't going to find out.

"That's fine. Are staying with her the whole summer?" Harry asked. Y/n hated to have to nod. She knew they were keeping a brave face on but they were disappointed.

Y/n's lie worked. She made it to out of the station with Draco without anyone seeing.

They got in the car and, from there, they travelled to the manor. It was fabulous. Better than she could ever imagine. Pointed towers and perfectly done gardens, she was in another world.

"Hey, it'll be okay," Draco assured her, taking his hand in hers as they made it to the door. She had already met their house-elf, who carried the bags.

Draco knocked on the door, trying to seem brave. Narcissa swung it open, arms wide open to pull Draco in. Y/n admired how close they were. She had seen Narcissa once before when she came to see Draco. They weren't introduced but Y/n admired how elegant she looked.

"Y/n Potter, right?" Narcissa asked once she had let her boy go.

"Yes, Mrs Malfoy. It's a pleasure to meet you." Y/n politely said.

Narcissa giggled, shaking her head. "Don't be silly, you can call me Narcissa." She said before opening her arms up for the girl. She hugged for just as long as she hugged Draco, making Y/n feel very comfortable.

Lucius walked over, making Y/n's heart race.

"Draco." He greeted his son with a handshake, much less warm than his mother.

Then he turned to Y/n, staring down his nose at her. She had never felt as small. "You must be Y/n Potter?" He held out his hand.

"Yes, sir," Y/n replied, shaking his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Lucius just scowled. Narcissa interrupted the tension. "Come, kids, we can talk in the living room." Just like that, she was part of the family.

The Malfoy tent at the Quidditch world cup was impressive. It was grand and dark like the manor.

Her summer with Draco was the best of her life, not that the others were much to compare to. Narcissa was the kindest woman she'd ever know. When she realised Y/n's birthday was the 31st of July, she insisted on throwing a large party.

She let Y/n pick out all the decorations, taking her on a shopping spree to Diagon Alley. Then, they had a spa day and afternoon tea party with Pansy and Daphne and some of Narcissa's friends. As much as she wanted to, Y/n figured it wasn't right to invite Hermione and Ginny.

That night, they had dinner out with the girls, Draco, Theo and Blaise. It was the best day of her life. It only got better when a massive cake was wheeled out, and a cart for of gifts. She was sure it was more than Dudley had ever gotten.

Draco's was the most special. It was a necklace, a traditional Black family one. On it was their initials.

Y/n made sure to stay in contact with Harry, but things had started to slip. She figured he was just busy but she missed him, and their other friends.

It was difficult for Y/n to get along with Lucius, knowing how close he was to Voldemort, the man who was trying to kill her. Somehow, they just didn't talk about it.

"Are you ready to go?" Draco asked, adjusting his black blazer. She couldn't believe how good he looked, a full black suit. His blonde hair parted in the middle. He had grown into his looks majorly over the summer.

"Yeah." Y/n nodded, putting her last earing in. They were a gift from Narcissa, real emeralds. She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach she was trying to shake off as anticipation.

"Okay, Mum has already gone to our box. We're going in with my Father." He told her, walking over to grab her hand. Physical contact was something the couple had gotten used to. It was no longer awkward.

Y/n took his hand, lacing their fingers as they walked out of the tent. Draco was taller than her now, he hadn't been in first year. His slim thumb traced over her knuckles mindlessly.

Lucius didn't seem to mind the two of them being so close. The sky had darkened, and the crowds were already cheering. While Y/n had never been to a muggle sports game, she thought this was better. It was noisy but spectacular.

Draco and Y/n talked as they walked, him occasionally bumping into her shoulder. It always made her giggle.

When she heard Lucius' cruel voice, she looked back at him. He was looking up. Y/n followed his eye line. The Weasley's. Hermione. Harry.

Her brain stopped working, and she froze. The look on Harry's face was pure fury. He was looking between her and Draco rapidly, but it was obvious. They were holding hands, and they had just been giggling together.

Those smiles were long gone. The atmosphere had immediately blackened.

Lucius' threat to Harry made her wince. Harry didn't even look bothered, just furious at her. Betrayed. It physically hurt her, and she gripped Draco's hand.

The Weasley group turned to walk off so did Lucius. Draco pulled Y/n closer to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry. It'll be okay. Harry will calm down." Draco told her. She just hoped it was true. Harry didn't like to be deceived, and she had lied so much. Plus, Draco was never nice to Harry, Hermione and Ron. They probably hated her by association. "My father really shouldn't have said that." He grimaced. That's made her confident in her decision. Draco had changed.

Y/n nodded, trying to choke back the tears welling in her eyes. "Yeah, I know."

Draco stopped in the middle of the bridge. He took her face in his hands. "Hey, I love you." He reminded her before leaning down to kiss her. It was soft and filled her back up with warmth, making the chilling look Harry had sent her go away. She just hoped Harry still loved her.

Y/n tried to put Harry in the back of her mind the rest of the break. She did write him a few letters, but he didn't reply.

Harry was too busy to talk to Y/n on the first day of school. She hoped Hermione and Ron weren't giving her the cold shoulder, but they did.

So she spent the welcome feast with Pansy and Daphne. And, of course, her boyfriend.

He confronted her on the second day of school.

Y/n was in the courtyard when Draco and Harry had their quarrel. She always knew Draco was short-tempered, but she couldn't believe the things he was saying to Harry about their mother.

Y/n's shock grew when Harry spat back, knocking Narcissa. He didn't know her like she did. Narcissa had been nothing but kind to Y/n. That was when she knew she couldn't let Harry get away with it.

"Harry!" Y/n yelled, his attention flicked to her. His eyes were even more outraged than they were with Draco.

"What do you want, traitor?" Harry demanded, his voice was angry too.

"You can't say those things about Narcissa," Y/n demanded. Now she knew how mad Draco felt. Her jaw was clenched like her fits. "And, I'm not a traitor. I'm a Slytherin, that wasn't my choice."

Harry rolled his eyes and huffed. "You're sickening. Did you not hear what he said about our mother!?" He lectured her. "I don't know how you could be with someone so vile."

"Draco isn't who you think he is." Y/n defended. Draco loved her. He'd never given up on her like Harry had.

"He hates you!" Harry spat. He was closer to her now, towering over her. She had never seen anyone that mad. "You're not a Potter. You don't belong in our family." He said so lowly it made her shiver.

Harry was so close she thought he was going to hit her. That's when Draco jumped in the middle of the twins, pushing Harry back and shielding Y/n.

"Watch it, Potter." Draco threatened, glaring down at Harry. He was only an inch taller.

Harry scoffed, fists clench, ready for a fight. He looked around Draco, at Y/n. "Mum and Dad would have despised you. You're just like all those other awful Slytherins. I don't understand how you could be with someone as low as Malfoy." His words sat deep in her heart, and he didn't stop them from coming. "You're not a Potter." With that, he left, not looking back.

Y/n immediately burst out in tears. She couldn't stop it. Draco spun around to her, holding her so she wouldn't collapse.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay." Draco told her, wrapping her in his arms so tightly. He just held her. "You know they would be proud of you, Y/n. You're so strong and clever." He comforted her, his hands stroking her back.

Y/n shook her head. "No, I'm a Slytherin. They were all brave Gryffindors." She choked out.

"It doesn't matter what house you're in. You're so kind and talented." Draco reassured her. His heart was breaking, seeing his girlfriend in such a bad state. All he wanted to do was stop her from hurting. "I know how important Harry is to you. We can take a break until this all blows over." He reassured her.

Y/n shook her head, clinging to her chest. "No, no, please, Dray." She said as she cried out. "You're the last good thing I have left."

"Baby." He cooed, tracing her cheekbones. "I'll never leave you." He promised.

Draco stayed true to his word. He supported her throughout the whole year. Y/n was always worried for Harry. Despite the shunning, he inflicted on her.

It didn't stop with Harry. Y/n lost half of her friends that day. Hermione, the Weasley's and most muggle-borns refused to talk to her. She was always so kind that it troubled her.

Draco took her to the Yule ball, naturally. She saw Harry that night. They even made eye contact, but he didn't comment on her forest green dress. It matched her eyes perfectly, though, and Harry couldn't stop thinking about one photo of his mother he'd seen. They looked so similar.

She spent the Christmas break at the Malfoy's, receiving a sweater from Molly Weasley. That meant the world to her, despite none of them speaking to her.

When they got back to Hogwarts, Y/n figured out how irrelevant she was to Harry. Ron was the one that was taken for the second task. Everyone noticed. Not his own twin, his friend.

Y/n still remained close with Sirius. They wrote letters to each other throughout the year. He knew how worried she was about Harry.

The truth was, Sirius felt bad, James and Lily were his best friends and he knew they'd be disappointed to see the twins split up. Sirius was also worried for Y/n, he knew what it was like being part of the Black family.

He had hatched a few plans to get them to talk, but none worked. Not due to Y/n's lack of trying.

The third task was the worst thing Y/n had been through at Hogwarts. She could feel something bad was happening to Harry. When he came back through the portkey, she saw it. And it was distressing.

Voldermort was reborn, whether everyone believed it or not. Y/n could feel it was true.

5th year was exciting.

Y/n celebrated her 15th birthday before it started. This time, they had dinner with her friends. She didn't write to Harry.

Sirius sent her gifts, and he was starting to ask whether Narcissa was okay.

Just after her birthday, in August, Draco Malfoy and Y/n Potter were made prefects. They both read the letters at the breakfast table.

Narcissa was overjoyed for both of them.

At 11am, on the 1st of September, they got on the train to Hogwarts.

The rest of that year went on normally, apart from Umbridge's rules.

Christmas break was a sign that a darker power was brewing. Y/n heard the whispers under the door and she assumed the other side of the war also had meetings.

Y/n was shocked when Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban. After the Umbridge drama died down, they had to sit their O.W.L.s. That was rough.

One terrible day of June was Sirius' last. Y/n cried in Draco's arms for days over the death. She always thought Sirius was the only person who was going to be able to reunite the twins. And now he was gone.

Y/n knew something was very wrong during the summer. Draco told her he was a death eater. They cried about it together all night. The weeks following were stressful, and they weren't even back at Hogwarts. The war had started.

Draco and Narcissa kept Y/n hidden from Lucius' guests. O.W.L results were the first good thing that summer.

Y/n's 16th birthday was smaller than her last. Y/n, Draco, Pansy, Blaise and Theo were all hyperaware of the dementor attacks.

That weekend, they visited Diagon Alley with Narcissa. Y/n was at Draco's side the whole time, unfortunately, that meant she had a run-in with Harry and the Weasleys. It was awkward, to say the least. Her own twin still wouldn't acknowledge her.

Draco's task started at the beginning of the year. Y/n was the only one who knew about it, besides Snape.

Then Christmas, with even more death eater meetings. Y/n barely saw Draco. Narcissa had made her promise to take care of him, but it was difficult to get him to eat.

Draco continued his task during the second semester. Y/n knew that Harry knew about Draco. Their twin insight gave him the power to just know things.

It was getting difficult between Y/n and Draco. They didn't talk as honestly as they used to. He wanted to protect her. And she knew he needed to open up.

One day in May, Y/n rushed to see Draco in the hospital wing, concerned about how he could have gotten there. Did something go wrong with the vanishing cabinet?

"Draco!" She cried as she saw him lying on a hospital bed looking pale.

Draco waved at her, a little smile on his face.

"Potter." Snape hissed, looking down at the girl. Y/n didn't care he was there as she wrapped her arms around Draco. Snape was nicer to Y/n this year, which she didn't understand.

From a photo Sirius had given her, she knew she looked more like Lily than ever. She always kept the picture near her. It was the Potter parents holding up their twins, smiling.

"He's fine," Snape told her. "As for your brother, he's going to be in huge trouble." He continued before walking out of the hospital wing.

"What happened?" Y/n demanded, holding Draco's face in her hands. His cheekbones were more prominent now, and his eyes were more overcast.

Draco playfully huffed. "I was, uh, in the bathroom. Potter came in and used the bloody Sectumsempra spell on me." He complained, his eyes now angrier. She couldn't believe Harry would do something like that. But, then again, she didn't really know him.

Y/n noticed the way his voice faded when he talked about where he was. "Why were you in the bathroom?" She knew him well enough to push for an answer."

"Uh, talking." Draco offered an explanation. It wasn't good enough for Y/n to accept.

"To who?" She asked.

Draco groaned, rolling his eyes. He finally gave in. "Fine, I was crying to Moaning Myrtle." He admitted. His cheeks were pink with blush and he looked guilty.

"Dray." Y/n cooed, reaching down to hold his hand. "You can talk to me about anything you need to, any time." She assured him.

Draco nodded, thankfully. "He's going to get detention for the rest of the year." He told her, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

Narcissa was one of the last people Y/n expected to see walk into the Hospital Wing. She was in a black pantsuit.

"Mother." Draco greeted her, trying to move in the bed to get up.

"Stay put, you," Narcissa told him with a smile. She walked right over and hugged Y/n. "Are you okay?" She asked. Y/n just nodded. She knew a storm was brewing, but nothing had happened yet. It was only a matter of time. Then she turned to Draco. "Are you?" She asked him.

Draco already had a witty reply, clearly feeling like himself again. "Aside from my own mother preferring my girlfriend to me." He complained, a faux pout on his face.

Narcissa just rolled her eyes, like mother like son. "I can't help it. You get into too much trouble." She told him with a pointed look.

Draco scoffed. "Wasn't my fault." He complained quietly. The girls just gave him a look he knew too well. "Honestly, what are you doing here?" He asked. When Narcissa widened her eyes, he followed the question up with a statement. "Not that I'm not pleased to see you."

"I've actually come for Y/n." She explained.

Both Y/n and Draco looked at her in shock. "What? Why?" Y/n asked, most concerned.

Narcissa looked to Draco who sighed out an 'oh' and then back to Y/n before speaking. "You know about the cabinet." Y/n nodded. "They need it. The Death Eaters. To get into Hogwarts." That made Y/n worry. They weren't coming in to have dinner.

"You don't know this." Draco started, making Y/n's attention turn to him. "My task is to kill Dumbledore." Y/n's mouth gawked open. She could feel her hands shaking. More than anything, she couldn't believe someone would make a kid do that.

Narcissa grimaced. "It's all about to start." Y/n didn't need to ask what 'it' was. "So I'm taking Y/n away." She told them.

"Wait... for how long?" Draco asked quickly, gripping her hand.

"Draco, you sit in those meetings," Narcissa told him. "You know the plan is for them to take over the Ministry of Magic and persecute muggle-borns." That made Y/n wince. "It's not safe for Y/n to stay at Hogwarts, don't be silly about this." She strictly told him.

Draco sighed but nodded. He knew Narcissa was always right. "Can I still see her?" He asked, now thinking rationally. Y/n didn't like that she didn't have any say in the matter.

"Yes." At least there was that. "No one is going to know where she is apart from Lucius, you and I," Narcissa told them.

"Do I get any say in this?" Y/n finally spat out.

Narcissa turned her attention to Y/n with a pleading look. "You know we have to."

"I've still got a month of school left," Y/n argued.

"I know and I'm sorry we have to do this." Narcissa apologised. "It's all going to happen next month."

"Can't I stay until then?" Y/n asked.

Narcissa shook her head. "I promise you, if I thought you could, I would let you. You're a big part of what you-know-who wants, Harry more, but you must stay far away from this." She told her.

Y/n couldn't not agree. "Alright. We're leaving now?" She asked.

"Yes," Narcissa told her. "All of your things have been packed. Draco can come and see you once it's over." She promised.

Draco wrapped his arms around Y/n as he kissed her. It was one of the things she knew she was going to miss. She also knew it was time to go.

"Bye, I love you," Draco told her, waving from his hospital bed.

"I love you too," Y/n replied before walking out of the wing with Narcissa.

From there, they went out a secret passage, making sure no one saw. Professor Snape knew Y/n had to go, so he was coming up with the cover story.

Narcissa and Y/n finally reached a Slytherin scarf, which took them to a house she'd never been to. "Where are we?" Y/n asked, still holding on to the portkey.

"The South of England," Narcissa told her, making her brows furrow and eyes widen. "It's an old Black family house." She explained, opening the door. It was just as grand as the Manor, smaller, though.

Inside it looked just as gorgeous. All the decor was French country vintage. It screamed old money.

"It's beautiful," Y/n told Narcissa, having a look around the inside. There was so much light streaming into the room with wooden details.

"I'll make some tea. Your room is on the second floor, first door." Narcissa told her. Y/n nodded, walking up the stairs to find the room. It was decorated like royalty belonged there. There was a massive window that looked right out onto the coast.

It was then she realised the house was on a cliff. Y/n hadn't seen it from the angle the entryway was at. But it was spectacular. Lonely.

Y/n could spend her whole life there. She set her bags down and strolled around the room. It was smaller than Draco's was, at the manor. But it was much lighter. Almost the complete opposite of the Malfoy family home.

Once she had finished looking around, she went back downstairs to see Narcissa setting tea up on the coffee table. When she walked into the living room she saw the massive windows, showing the ocean.

"Sit," Narcissa commanded and Y/n did so right away. She poured tea for both of them before also sitting down. They sat in silence for a while, Y/n not knowing what to say. "I can tell you have questions." Narcissa prompted.

"Why is Snape protecting Draco and I?" Y/n asked quickly.

Narcissa sighed before answering. "Do you know what an Unbreakable Vow is?" She asked, and Y/n nodded. "Severus and I made one. He vowed to watch over Draco." Y/n nodded again. That vow must have expended to Y/n.

Y/n suddenly had more questions. "You need a Bonder, right?"

"Yes, Bellatrix was ours," Narcissa replied. Y/n was familiar with Draco's strange aunt. They had never met, out of Bellatrix's loyalty to Voldermort.

"Are you going to stay here with me?" She asked, concerned about being alone.

Narcissa shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can only be here sometimes. The story is you ran away, and no one knows where you are, so I can't be here too much." Y/n didn't know that before. Everyone was going to think she'd left by choice. Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, Theo. Harry, if he cared. She knew none of them were going to be able to know why she was gone.

"Am I safe here?" Y/n asked, now worrying about how she would be safe alone. The tea they were sipping seemed to calm her down.

"Yes, there are charms on the house so no one can get in. But, I'm also giving you this." Narcissa stopped what she was saying and pulled out a necklace. It was a heart-shaped gold locket. Narcissa placed it in her hand. Y/n looked at it. That's when she noticed the initials on it. Draco's and hers.

Y/n thanked her. "That's not it. If you open it like this." Narcissa instructed, opening the heart. Y/n noticed the emerald gemstone. "This stone is a portkey, right to the Manor." So Y/n would be able to get back to the Manor.

"I can't thank you enough, and I don't want to intrude, but I do have a personal question." Y/n was hesitant about what she was going to ask. But she needed to know. "You said before, in the hospital wing, that Mr Malfoy knew where I was staying. And I have a lot of respect for him, so I don't want this to come off badly." Y/n could tell she was rambling. Narcissa could as well, she slid a hand onto Y/n's to calm her down. "Why is it safe for him to know? He's you-know-who's number 2. Eventually, he's going to want me dead." It broke Y/n's heart, she knew it was going to ruin Draco's life. But, his father was going to have to kill her.

"Slow down." Narcissa smiled softly. That comforted Y/n a little. "Do you remember when we met, the summer before the World Cup?" She asked. Y/n nodded in agreement, not sure where it was going. "The night we met you, I knew. I knew Draco was in love with you. And, I knew Voldermort was going to come back and try to kill the Potter twins." Y/n's heart started to race at the mention of her parents' death. "I made Lucius make an unbreakable vow. Snape was the Bonder." Oh, it made sense. Lucius couldn't hurt Y/n, Narcissa had protected her.

She just didn't understand why so she asked. "Why? I mean, I appreciate it more than anything. But you risked your whole marriage." It was true, and Narcissa knew that.

"I've never thought you or Harry should be persecuted. My parents raised me as pureblood supremacists, but killing is wrong." Narcissa told her. Y/n was thankful for her honesty. She filled the place Lily had left, and Petunia hadn't tried to fill. "I love Draco, more than anything in the world. The only thing I've ever wanted is to see him happy. I knew he was happy with you." Y/n understood Narcissa's unconditional love for Draco, she felt the same.

"He's lucky to have you," Y/n mentioned, trying not to think about her parents.

"I don't know if I've ever told you this, but I'm very sorry about your parents," Narcissa told her. Y/n could feel the tears in her eyes.

She let a few of them fall. "Did you, uh, know them?"

"My last two years at Hogwarts, they were there. James was only 11 but he was loud and brave. He would even stand up to me with Sirius." Hearing both their names made Y/n cry more. She was crying for the dad she never knew, and the uncle she only had for a short time. "I noticed you at Hogwarts, I think during second year, and I had deja vu. You looked so similar to Lily. She always wore her hair just like you did." Y/n remembered seeing Narcissa but she didn't remember Narcissa seeing her.

"Would they be disappointed in me?" Y/n couldn't help but ask. Narcissa felt her pain, running deep. She immediately wrapped the girl in a hug, letting her cry.

"No, never for a moment." She confirmed. "I know it's not the same, but I'm proud of you." It wasn't the same, but it meant just as much.

"Thank you." Y/n thanked her again.

"No thanks are necessary. I should go back though." Narcissa stated, looking at her watch.

Y/n nodded, gently opening the necklace so she wouldn't touch the emerald. Narcissa held it, and just like that, she was gone.

Y/n found a good amount of things to do. There were movies and music. She still had some of her textbooks. Plus, exploring the house was fun.

But she did miss Draco. And the rest of her friends. Instead of using an owl, she decided to send letters by muggle post to the Malfoy residence, so Narcissa could send them to Hogwarts.

There was a knock on the door a couple of weeks after Y/n moved in.

She peaked out the window before seeing a tuff of blonde hair. It was Draco.

Quickly, she swung the door open, embarrassing him in her arms.

Draco hugged her back, lifting her off the ground and twirling her around.

"Dray, I missed you." She cooed, head buried in his shoulder.

"I missed you too, my girl." He replied, pulling her even closer. It was so tight she felt like she couldn't breathe.

When she pulled back, she had a thought. "How did you manage to come? Don't you have classes?"

Draco shook his head. "Quidditch match. It's Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw, so I came here instead." Y/n was very grateful for Quidditch that day.

They only had a few hours before people would notice he was gone. But they baked cookies together while Draco filled her in on everything she'd missed. As well as lots of kissing.

When it came time for him to leave, she was upset. But Draco made her promise not to cry.

Draco came back after the battle of the tower. Y/n knew there was something wrong. He didn't grin as wide when he met her at the beach.

There were already tears forming in his eyes, and it was late.

"Dray, talk to me, baby." Y/n pleaded as they lay together on the couch. It was far past midnight. Y/n was on Draco's chest and they were a tangle of limbs. She had her fingers running through his hair.

Draco sighed. "I couldn't do it." He sobbed out. "I couldn't kill him. Snape had to do it. It was so horrible, Y/n." He continued, tears still falling. "My father was so mad. He cares more about appeasing Voldermort than me." Y/n's heart clenched as she heard his words.

"Draco, he loves you." Y/n tried to reassure him.

Draco tried to accept it, but it was difficult. "I'm scared for what's going to happen." He told her.

"Me too," Y/n admitted. "How's it all going to end?" She asked him.

The truth was Draco didn't know. And she knew that. "They're talking over the Manor." He didn't want to be the one telling her the bad news. "They're going to go after anyone and everyone associated with Muggleborns. I'm not going to get to be here much." He hesitantly admitted.

"You've done what they needed you to do, though!" Y/n exclaimed, feeling outraged.

"I know. I'm not sure what they're going to do with me. Father lectured me and I just came here." Draco explained. It reassured her there might be some hope he could spend the summer there. "It'll be okay, Y/n."

She tried to retain that. "Can you come back on my birthday, at least?" Y/n asked.

"Of course, baby." Draco quickly replied. That brought Y/n some relief.

Draco was busy a lot of the summer. Despite having completed the task he was given, he was still Lucius's son.

He told Y/n all about how the Manor had been taken over by death eaters. It worried her. She also spent a lot of time worried about Harry. He was the only blood connection she had left in the world, and she had no idea where he was.

Draco came back on her birthday like he promised. He had more flowers than she'd ever seen in her life. That wasn't where the gifts ended. Jewellery, new shoes, perfume and a big cake.

Narcissa made it as well for dinner. She even insisted Draco stay the night.

By nighttime, they were lying in bed together. Draco's arms wrapped around her tightly. As usual, she lay against his chest. Draco stroking her hair.

When she looked up at him, she knew something was wrong. After all their years together, she could read him like a book. "What is it?"

"What do you mean?" He asked. His voice was a slightly higher pitch. Y/n recognised that as a sign he was hiding something.

"I can tell something bothering you," Y/n explained. "Let me in, Dray." She pleaded.

Draco knew he had to. "I have to leave early tomorrow morning."

Y/n knew that wasn't it. "I need the whole truth." Draco groaned, knowing she knew him better than he knew himself.

"I have to go early so I can be at the takeover of the ministry," Draco revealed to her. "They're going after Scrimgeour because he knows where Harry is." Oh. That wasn't good. Either the minister would give up Harry's location, and her twin brother would be killed. Or, the Ministry of Magic would be run by Death Eaters. Either way, their power was growing. Y/n knew Harry only had a matter of time. Then she would be next.

"So, no one knows where Harry is?" Y/n asked hopefully. Even if he hated her, she would rather he was alive.

Draco shook his head. "He's hunting the Horcruxes, I'd guess. Scrimgeour knows and maybe a few members of the Ministry." That made Y/n relieved, although she wasn't sure how good Harry's survival skills were.

"Am I going to be okay?" Y/n asked, fearing the worst.

Draco took a deep breath as he prepared an answer. "I'm never going to let him get to you, I promise. My Father's vow will make sure he can't either. No one else knows you're here." He reassured her. Y/n just hoped it was true, Draco could read that.

"So you're going back to Hogwarts?" Y/n couldn't help but ask.

Draco nodded. "I think Snape is going to be appointed Headmaster. I'll be safe there." That reassured Y/n to no end. He chuckled slightly, a smile on his face. "We were going to be Head boy and girl." He explained. Y/n's face dropped as she tried not to cry. "Hey, hey, hey." Draco noticed. "It's just the way it happened."

"I know." She nodded. "It just could have been the best year ever."

"When this is all over, we're going to have the best year." He assured her. Y/n tried to hang onto that.

It got difficult the further the year dragged on. Y/n barely saw Draco. She did receive letters about how horrible things had gotten. Hogwarts was gloomier, no one could find Harry, Snape's regime was intense. Y/n was thankful she was away from the whole mess.

Just before Christmas, she found out Luna Lovegood had been kidnapped. Draco had started to detest the cause he was fighting for. He never said so, but she could infer it from what he wrote.

In March, she discovered Harry had been captured. Draco was the one who had to identify him, and he felt horrible about it. He cried on her shoulder, begging her to forgive him when he came to see her. Y/n was never mad at Draco. She was smart enough to know he had to do it. And, deep down, she could feel that Harry was okay.

Draco was in a worse state when they escaped. Not because he wanted Harry to be killed. Because his own aunt had murdered Dobby. While he was taught to hate the house-elves, Dobby was almost his younger sibling.

All Draco could feel was split, unsure of what to do.

Draco told her it was all going to happen on May 1st. The battle of Hogwarts. Y/n spent the whole day riddled with anxiety. She spent a whole 3 days wide awake, waiting for news.

She felt a cursing pain through her head at some point on the 2nd of May. Then the visions started, of Harry and Dumbledore at a train station. She realised she was seeing inside Harry's vision. When he made the choice to return to his body, Y/n knew everything would be alright.

Y/n anxious sat on the couch until 3 people appeared. It was only the early hours of the morning. She immediately ran to Draco wrapping her arms around him. He was unkempt, and his hair was a mess. He hugged her back, pulling her into his chest. She had never seen him looking as disturbed.

"What happened?" Y/n asked, turning to give Narcissa a hug. Much to her surprise, Lucius shook her hand. It was the first time they'd ever done something like that.

"We left," Lucius told her. That was also the first time he'd ever properly talked to her. She didn't understand.

They explained it all to her. How Harry sacrificed himself, how he died, more importantly how Narcissa discovered he was alive. Y/n hung on every word as Narcissa told her how she had lied to Voldermort. She also told Y/n Harry asked if she was still alive. Harry still cared about her.

By that point Draco, Narcissa and Y/n were all crying.

The sun had just started rising when Y/n realised it.

Suddenly, she had a massive headache. The kind she knew Harry used to have. And she knew what it meant.

"Voldermort's dead," Y/n announced, causing all of their eyes to widen. "I just know. I can feel it. Harry killed him." She felt more connected to Harry than she had in years, but she knew.

There were no words any of them said as they hugged. She could feel her head beating rapidly, the same as Draco's.

"Who died?" Y/n finally asked the question she was terrified to ask. Harry was the only one she knew was alive from the good side.

"Bellatrix." Narcissa sobbed out, Lucius immediately pulling her into a hug. It was one of the first times Y/n had seen them acting so intimately.

Draco continued giving Y/n the list. Every second felt like an hour as she hoped none of her friends died. "Fred Weasley." She could only think about the heartbreak that would have caused her brother and his friends. "Snape too." Draco let a few tears fall and Y/n rushed to wipe them. "Lupin and Tonks." Lupin was the last person alive who really knew her parents. Now her chances of knowing about them were over. "There were a lot of others too but everyone else we are close to is okay."

"Good." Y/n nodded before wrapping him in a hug. They stayed like that for a few minutes. Both couples holding each other, all feeling extremely grateful.

"We should go back home," Narcissa told them, glancing at the clock on the wall. "We'll have breakfast." She promised.

Draco enthusiastically nodded. "I'm starving." He mentioned.

Narcissa reached out to grab his hand. "You haven't eaten in days."

Y/n quickly turned her attention to Draco. "Dray." She told him, hitting his arm. "You can't do that."

"I won't, ever again." He promised, his hand wrapping around her waist. "As long as you're there to cook for me." He cheekily quipped, looking at Y/n with a grin. It was the first one she had seen in a while.

Narcissa and Lucius both laughed at the younger couple who reminded them of themselves. "You're dreaming," Y/n replied, bumping into his shoulder. Y/n opened her necklace.

Narcissa, Draco, Lucius and Y/n all touched the emerald. Just like that, they arrived in the Manor living room. It was like Y/n remembered, still as dark. She did feel better about being there, knowing no death eaters were trying to kill her brother.

Over pancakes, they laughed and talked. The world finally felt peaceful again. It was the first time Y/n had been happy in weeks.

An owl knocked at the window, around midday and Y/n took the two letters out of its mouth.

"Dray." She told him, handing his one over to him. "It's from Hogwarts." She told Narcissa and Lucius. They both opened their letters and read them. "In June, they're having an end of year feast," Y/n explained.

"So, we've got a month off school?" Draco looked thrilled by the news.

Narcissa chuckled. "What does it say about your exams?" She asked.

Draco read further down. "Mine says my grades from last year will be considered my grades for this year and I can become an Aurora. Or I can go back to Hogwarts." There was hopefulness in his voice Y/n had missed.

"Draco!" Narcissa cheered, jumping up to hug him. "Congratulations."

"Mine says the same." Y/n realised. "But how is that possible?" She asked, looking at Narcissa.

"I'm not sure." The woman replied, looking just as confused.

"I may have a few words with the acting Ministry when Voldermort was in charge," Lucius reported. All 3 of them were shocked by the confession.

Y/n was overcome with appreciation. "Thank you, sir."

"Please, Lucius is fine." That surprised Y/n but it was nice to hear he might not have hated her as much as she thought. It was the first time Y/n had seen a smile on his face. "What are you two planning on doing with your time off?" He asked the younger couple.

Draco and Y/n met each other's eyes, they hadn't thought about it. "What are we meant to do?" Draco asked.

"The house on the cliff is empty, if you want to spend more time there, Y/n," Narcissa mentioned. Draco grinned widely, nodding his head. He accepted the offer. "Slow down, Y/n?" Narcissa asked, turning her attention to Y/n.

"Yes, I'd love to. Thank you." Y/n affirmed her boyfriend's acceptance.

"When can we go?" Draco asked.

Lucius chuckled. "You don't want to spend time with your parents, son?" He joked. Another first. "You're going of age now, Draco. Y/n too. I think you've both earned the privilege of being treated like adults." He told them.

"You have to be back for your birthday, Draco. We're going to throw a party." Narcissa instructed, raising her eyebrows at him.

"So I'm not an adult?" Draco quipped back.

Narcissa turned to Y/n. "Will you make sure he comes back?" Y/n nodded. "Then you are both free to leave after I get a hug." She informed them, opening her arms up. Draco hugged her first, standing much taller than her.

Then he left to get his stuff. Lucius followed him up the stairs. Y/n walked over to Narcissa, embracing her.

"Thank you, for everything." Y/n mentioned in her arms.

"It's never a problem, sweetness," Narcissa replied, kissing the girl on the forehead.

Y/n and Draco took a different portkey to the house. Both of them were buzzing to have a month together after being apart for so long. They finally felt free and independent.

For a few weeks, they just hung out, reacquainting with each other. They spent time in London, seeing muggle sights and shopping. As well as the small, nearby muggle town. It had the cutest cafe.

Draco and Y/n also hung out with Pansy, Theo and Blaise again. They were all thrilled to see her. She explained the whole situation to them and they completely understood.

Between them, it was like no time was lost.

One summer evening, Draco had insisted on cooking Y/n dinner. He explained it was a date. She was to dress up nice like they were going out. Draco was in a full black suit, matching Y/n's sparkling black dress.

He even set the outdoor table, making Y/n sit there and wait for him to bring out dinner.

It was a pasta dish. The same one Narcissa had made the first time Y/n met the Malfoy family.

"Thank you, Dray," Y/n said as they sat, looking out at the view. The sun was just setting and the whole sky was painted pinks and oranges. In the distance, there was the sound of waves breaking on the cliff.

Draco looked nervous, she hadn't seen him like that for a long time. "Uh, I had a question for you." He stuttered out, cheeks turning pink.

Y/n sent him a soft smile, trying to help him calm down. His nerves were worrying her. What could he possibly ask her? Y/n knew exactly what was about to happen when Draco slid off his chair and down onto one knee. Her hands immediately came over her mouth. Tears were already pricking her eyes. He reached into his back pocket, producing a green velvet box.

"I've, uh, I've thought about doing this for a really long time. When we first met I knew you were the one who was always going to hold a special part of my heart. It was everything about you. I never believed in love at first sight until I met you." Y/n was full-on sobbing at Draco's words. They were the sweetest thing anyone had ever said. "I knew from when I met you that I'd always love you. But I had no idea you'd bear to be around me for long enough. I was kind of insufferable." Y/n and Draco both chuckled. "I'm so grateful I even got the chance to know someone as clever, kind, funny and ambitious as you. Once I'd asked you out, I knew I needed you to be mine forever." Draco let a few tears out, stopping to wipe them. "I've done a lot of stupid things, hurt a lot of people and you're far too good for me, I know that. But, I swear, I'm going to spend every day making it up however I can. I'm going to spend every day making it up to you too. If you let me. I think I knew you before I understood myself. You truly are my best friend and the most important person to me in the world." Neither of them could stop the uncontrollable tears they let out. "So, uh, I've got to ask now. Y/n Potter, will you do me the honours of marrying me?" Draco opened the ring box, revealing a huge diamond ring. It looked vintage and the prettiest thing Y/n had ever seen.

Y/n wiped a few stray tears off her cheeks, leaning down to do that same to Draco. "Yes, Draco. A million times yes." He was grinning as wide as she'd ever seen as he slipped the ring on her finger.

He stood up, holding her face in his hands. "I love you." He told her, leaning down to kiss her gently.

"I love you too," Y/n replied, eyes closed with her forehead intimately pressed against Draco's. When she moved her eyes she looked down at the ring. "It's so beautiful, Dray."

Draco nodded before explaining the story. "It's, um, a Black family heirloom. If Mum, Aunt Bella or Aunt Andromeda were boys, they would have gotten it. Luckily for me, it skipped a generation."

"It's stunning." Y/n leant back up to place a kiss on his lips. "Now, what have you cooked for dessert?" She asked, giggling lightly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Your favourite, of course, but only because you said yes." He revelled.

Y/n woke Draco up on his birthday with an assortment of gifts. After they ate breakfast and unwrapped presents, they went to the Manor.

Y/n knocked on the door happily. Draco's left hand entwined with her right one. Narcissa swung it open and embarrassed Y/n in an enthusiastic hug. She quickly grabbed Y/n's left hand, looking at the ring.

"I knew it would look perfect on you," Narcissa mentioned, tracing over the ring. Y/n grinned at her.

"It is perfect," Y/n said, grinning at Draco.

"You're perfect." Draco simply replied. Narcissa chuckled at the two of them. "Can I have my hug?" He asked Narcissa.

Narcissa dropped Y/n's hand hesitantly to pull him in. "18 but you're still acting like a petulant child." She joked making Draco pull a face of mock offence. "Happy birthday, Draco."

"Are you keeping them in here, Sissy?" Lucius asked, walking around the corner. Narcissa rolled her eyes at him. "Happy birthday, son." He said, wrapping Draco in a hug. "Y/n." Lucius turned to her.

"Mr Malfoy." Y/n greeted. She thought she was in trouble when he raised his eyebrows and shot her a pointed look. The smile on his lips assured her she wasn't about to be told off. "Lucius." She corrected herself.

Y/n held out a hand to shake his but he shook his head, opening his arms. "You're my future daughter-in-law, come here." He insisted, and Y/n hugged him, trying to avoid showing her shock.

After they had lunch and Draco opened more presents, Pansy, Daphne, Theo, Blaise, other friends and several Malfoy and Black family members came over. It was a phenomenal party.

Pansy raced right over to Y/n, flinging her arms around the girl.

"Hi Pansy, it's actually my birthday." Draco sarcastically greeted her.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Happy birthday, you big baby." She said, giving him a hug too. "I'm sorry I missed my best friend." Draco faked offence.

Theo, Blaise and Daphne all came to hug the couple as well. Neither Y/n nor Draco had realised they didn't know about the engagement.

They all quickly got flutes of champagne, raising them to toast each Draco.

That's when Pansy saw it. "Oh, Merlin. Is that an engagement ring!?" Pansy shouted, grabbing Y/n's left hand.

Both Y/n and Draco awkwardly laughed. "Yes," Y/n confirmed as Pansy admired the ring, showing Y/n's hand to Daphne and the boys.

"That's not just any ring. That's a Black Family ring." Blaise noticed.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. "How did you know that?" She asked, looking back at Draco.

He was blushing pink. "Loverboy, here, has been talking about giving it to you since 1st year," Theo informed Y/n. "He wouldn't shut up about it most nights." Her eyes widened as she looked at a red-faced Draco.

"You never told me that," Y/n mentioned, nudging his chest. Draco groaned, wrapping his arm around Y/n's waist.

"Because it's really embarrassing." Draco quietly stated.

Daphne pattered Draco's arm. "Y/n used to talk about you in her sleep." Daphne declared. That made Y/n's cheeks heat. Draco and the rest of the friend group burst out laughing.

It was finally the day of the final Hogwarts feast. Y/n didn't ever think, at 11 years old, it was going to end like this. In 7 years, she had learnt so much more than most people learnt in their lifetime.

"Pans, Blaise." Y/n opened the door of the Black's seaside house to invite Pansy and Blaise in.

Pansy and Blaise were both dressed in formal clothing as they hugged Y/n. She was wearing a deep green dress that matched Draco's suit's tie.

"You look lovely." Pansy complimented her.

"Pansy, look at you!" Y/n returned the compliment, instructing Pansy to do a spin of her silver dress.

"Are we ready to go?" Draco asked, walking down the stairs. He was in a full black suit aside from his green tie. He bro-hugged Blaise and gave Pansy a hug before wrapping an arm around Y/n's waist.

Y/n nodded. "Let's do it."

Y/n hadn't seen how destructed Hogwarts was, but it now looked just like when she left. She couldn't help but feel sad at the tragedy that had occurred a month ago.

"It's odd being back," Pansy spoke what they were all thinking. Everyone gave her a nod of agreement.

The two couples walked into the great hall, hand in hand. Everyone was surprised to see Y/n. They still had no explanation for why she was gone.

Naturally, Y/n's eyes met her brother. She noticed how faded his lightning-bold scar looked. But she didn't go over to him, she just went to her house table.

McGonagall spoke, about the losses they had faced and how good always won in the end. Her speech was inspiring. Everyone was still distraught about the battle, it was evident on their faces.

They ate, laughing at their tables as the sky fell dark. Y/n had missed being at Hogwarts, it was like home to her. The couple finally made their way through the castle to go home when it was late.

"Y/n!" That was a voice she hadn't expected to hear. She hadn't heard him say her name in years. Harry. His voice was much deeper now.

Y/n stopped in her tracks, quickly turned around to look at him. She still looked like she remembered. "Hi." She greeted him, awkwardly rocking on her feet.

"I'll give you a moment," Draco mentioned, unlacing his hand with Y/n's and walking off.

Now, neither of them knew what to say. They were family but so disconnected.

"How are you?" Harry finally asked.

Y/n softly smiled. "I'm alright. And you?"

"Good." Harry stuttered. Silence fell again. "I'm so sorry." He blurted out. "I never should have said the things I did in 4th year. I was so angry about what Malfoy was saying and I couldn't believe it."

Y/n nodded. "I know, Harry, you don't need to explain it or be sorry."

"No, I do. I shouldn't have refused to talk to you for 3 years. It was childish and hurt you." Harry insisted. It made Y/n feel like the weight was off her shoulders. A weight she had been hauling for years. "I looked for you when I left Hogwarts for a whole year."

That was new information but it warmed Y/n's heart. "Harry, I had no idea." She replied, tears swelling in her eyes. "Narcissa told me you asked about me."

"I felt the worst I had ever felt. I was immature, and mum and dad would have been disappointed." Harry admitted.

Y/n shook her head, finally letting the tears fall at the thought of her parents. "Harry, no, please. They would be so proud of you for everything. I'm so sorry about everything I said as well. I just need to know if you hate me." She begged, looking into his matching eyes.

"I never hated you, not for a minute. I was mad but I was also stupid and prejudice." Harry told her, finally allowing her to relax. Y/n pulled him in for a hug without thinking about it. "I missed you so much." Harry was sobbing too, hot tears on Y/n's back.

"I missed you too. Ron and Hermione and the Weasley's too." Y/n told him, pulling back. "Would you maybe want to hang out sometime. Talk?"

Harry couldn't nod quick enough. "Yes, please. I'd really like that. We've missed a lot of time."

Y/n pulled him back in for another hug. It was like the two puzzle pieces were finally together. The part of her heart that was missing was now filled.

"Is your scar okay?" Y/n asked, running her left forefinger over Harry's forehead.

Harry nodded, glancing up at her finger. He noticed the ring. Harry grabbed Y/n's hand, examining it in front of her. "Oh my." He exclaimed.

"Please don't be mad." Y/n winced, breath shortening.

"No, not at all," Harry told her. "I just want to be a part of your life. Draco's as well." He told her honestly. Y/n had never felt better than she did right then.

"Thank you," Y/n told him. "Are you with Ginny?" She couldn't help but ask.

Harry smiled as he nodded. "Yeah. This ring is phenomenal though." Harry mentioned, smiling as he met Y/n's eyes.

"I know." Y/n agreed a giddy smile on her face.

Today just might have been the best day of her life. She had a twin brother she spoke to and an amazing fiancee. Life was perfect.

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thewayshedreamed · 3 years

Note

Nessian prompt:

We’re playing truth or dare and I just got dared to sit on your lap for the next two rounds but now I’m sitting on your hard-on and I’m kinda getting turned on cuz the ✨positioning✨. We’re both tryna fix the situation without drawing attention to us but the fidgeting definitely isn’t helping 👀

Thanks for the prompt, Bby! I know you sent it as part of my follower celebration, but it worked so well for @nessianweek Day 4: Rivalry that I couldn't pass it up.

Enjoy!

Warnings for strong language and mature themes. Slightly nsfw.

Nesta didn't know the last time she played Truth or Dare. She thought those days had left her at some point during undergrad, but apparently not. There she was, her last semester of graduate school, somewhat invested in a round of the game. The group had been playing for almost an hour, the drinks they poured becoming more and more stout as the night went on.

Gwyn and Emerie had convinced her to join them for a night out with the others, and to be fair, it had been quite some time since she'd allowed herself a carefree night out. Her sisters and Mor were there, as well as Rhys, Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien. Amren mentioned she would "see how things went", which meant she and Varian were staying in to fulfill their own agenda. There was no doubt that was for the best since their activities would likely scar them all.

It was Mor's turn, and her mischievous smile turned on her girlfriend. "Truth or Dare, Em?"

Emerie considered it for a moment, making a show of staring at the ceiling. One of the guys made a sound similar to a ticking clock, but she paid them no mind.

"Truth."

"Okay," Mor drawled, taking a long sip of wine. "Fuck, Marry, Kill; for Rhys, Azriel, Cassian."

Emerie's eyes grew wide, snapping to Feyre and back to Mor. Nesta dared to chuckle at her friend's tight position, earning a pointed glare reserved for the worst of traitors.

"Don't hesitate on my account," Feyre giggled, resting her head on Rhys' shoulder. "I'm curious."

"That's not a fair one!" Emerie argued, gesturing with her hands. "The answer is none of the above, on all counts. For more than one reason."

The three men had the audacity to look miffed at her rejection, even though none of them had any interest in Emerie. They'd all known each other too long for any blurred lines. Mor leaned heavily against her, a look of apology in her rounded, brown eyes.

"Fair enough," she conceded, pressing a kiss to Emerie's cheek.

"That's not how it works!" Cassian challenged. It was unclear whether his ego or strict principles motivated his outburst.

Nesta fought the urge to roll her eyes, to rise to the challenge in his voice like she usually did. But Emerie was her friend, and she wasn't going to take him pushing her lying down. The words left her with more snark than usual.

"Oh, would you come off it?"

His eyes snapped in her direction, locking in on her face like a predator circling prey. "Let me guess. You have an opinion."

Nesta's blood boiled, despite the fact that she told herself Cassian wouldn't get under her skin the next time they were around each other. She was 0 for... hundreds at that point.

"She answered it truthfully, so I don't see the problem."

"It's the way the question was framed, though. It's a game within the question. There were three options. 'None of the above' wasn't one of them."

Nesta loosened the reins on her eye rolling. Cassian was good for that. "No one made that rule."

"Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that."

Emerie cleared her throat, eager to redirect his challenge before the two of them escalated. "Show us how it's done, then. Truth or Dare, Cassian?"

His attention lingered on Nesta a moment longer, a familiar glint in his eyes. Her blood heated for an entirely different reason, and she was sure to berate it for doing so.

"Dare."

"I dare you to kiss Azriel," she said, grinning around the rim of her glass. "On the mouth."

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, resigned to his fate. He knew Cassian better than anyone, and it was only a matter of time.

Without hesitation, Cassian said, "Oh, done. Tongue?"

A chorus of laughter drowned out Azriel incredulous curse in Cassian's direction. When she finally recovered, Emerie took mercy on Azriel and excused any tongue. Cassian didn't hesitate to lean toward Azriel, cupping him roughly by the back of the neck and planting a full kiss to his mouth. There were catcalls all around; not at all needed in the encouragement department.

Azriel turned his attention to Feyre, fully succumbing to his soft spot for her and letting her off on the easiest Truth ever. It was something to do with who she would most like to draw or paint of the lot of them, excluding Rhys. No surprises on her choice of Azriel himself, but to his credit, he didn’t preen at the compliment. He humbly nodded as if anyone alive wouldn’t want to catch those angles on canvas.

“Nesta,” Feyre called, interrupting another quip she had been prepared to launch Cassian’s way. She couldn’t remember why. “Truth or Dare?”

She took a long pull of her drink and licked her bottom lip. “Dare.”

“Hmm,” Feyre considered, and Nesta had to admit to being slightly terrified of how diabolical sibling could be in a game such as the one she played. It didn’t take long for her to realize she’d been right to feel that way. “I think you two need to learn to get along. I dare you to sit on Cass' lap. Minimum of two full turns.”

Nesta’s nostrils flared. Cassian’s red hot challenge bore a hole into the side of her head, and all she could hear was his taunt from before.

Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that.

She snapped her attention to his face, suppressing the urge to throttle him for the narrow-eyed smirk he offered. Angling his large body backward, he draped a muscled arm across the back of the couch and eased his thighs open. Cassian wouldn't be the one to back down, she realized.

"Fine." Nesta threw back the rest of her drink and set it roughly on the nearby table.

Cassian's eyes were sparkling, his smile feline. He tapped his thigh with his free hand to goad her, and she wondered if he— if they— would ever tire of the constant challenges. Nesta sauntered over and dropped heavily into the center of his lap, earning a loud oof.

"Fuck, Sweetheart," he fussed, gripped her waist in his large hands to rearrange their position.

The heat of his hands, the scrape of his calluses; they came together to monopolize her focus. She was almost sure that others were amused by their display, but her world was singularly focused.

Cassian cleared his throat while he eased her into a position that better balanced her weight. The tension eased from her thighs as she settled, only for him to shift her again. Nesta let out an exaggerated sigh at his constant fidgeting. The only silver lining to the near motion sickness she'd no doubt endure as a result was the steadiness of his grip against her.

The reason for all his maneuvering revealed itself seconds later. Nesta had been initially impressed with the muscle tone in his thighs, how firm the muscles felt beneath her. They were nothing in comparison to the very obvious hardness pressing against the swell of her ass.

Animated conversation continued around them, and Nesta took the opportunity to turn and offer an accusatory glare. He hissed against the pressure of her movement, sending her eyebrows into her hairline.

"Are you really h—"

"Shh!" Cassian ordered, clamping a hand over her mouth. "Can you not announce that shit to the entire room?"

Nesta blinked incredulously and dragged her tongue against his palm. He grimaced, rubbing his palm against his jeans as if she'd poured acid onto his skin.

"It's not my fault you can't... control that," she hissed.

"Well, shit, Nesta. When's the last time you had a beautiful woman on your lap and had to keep your boner in check?" His whisper was low, frantic. There were words that latched onto her nerves and left goosebumps in their wake, even when she barely heard them.

"It's only two turns," she managed, swallowing against the dryness in her throat. "Then, it'll be a non-issue."

Cassian's hands clung to her hips once more, the delicious grip of them even firmer than before. "You can't get up now; not in front of them." He gestured with a jerk of his chin to the rest of the room. "They're savages."

A laugh bubbled out of Nesta's chest, and surprisingly, it was more due to the unlikely alliance forged by biology than her pleasure in his panic. The irony wasn't lost on her, but she didn't get to dwell on it for long before Cassian started strategizing.

"We're supposed to get along, right?" He paused, waiting for the excessive noise level to settle around them. Someone must have performed a solid dare, and Nesta was mildly concerned that it hadn't managed to be a blip on their radar. "You're gonna have to keep fighting with me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "To be clear, you want me to argue with you so that we can hide this?" She rocked back into him for emphasis, and a pained sound left him. Nesta was grateful for the small silver lining that was her private arousal, otherwise she and Cassian would be in the same boat. The way his eyelids fluttered didn't help.

"I'm asking your for a small favor. When I get my shit together, you're free to go. I'm not exactly happy about it either."

Another smile teased her lips. "Small?"

"Mother's tits. Just turned around."

Nesta complied, if for no other reason than to hide the chuckle she'd been trying to choke down throughout the conversation. They engaged with the others as nonchalantly as possible, ignoring each other completely until opportunities arose to take opposing stances on anything at all. The rules of the game. Who brought the best drinks. If someone had successfully completed their dare or answered their question. Cassian had been correct in assuming the group would advocate for their continued canoodling since they weren't yet cooperating with one another.

"Nesta," he almost growled, sometime after a dozen turns of their faux discord. "This isn't helping."

She whipped around, noting the pained expression on his face. "Wait, is this working for you?"

Cassian squeezed his temples between his thumb and middle finger, looking as if he was in as much disbelief as her. The tragic part was that the arguing hadn't curbed her own body's reactions to him, either.

"That's what it looks like."

Nesta didn't cage it then, the full and melodic laughter that shook her shoulders and made her eyes water. He continued bracing his head in his hand while she delighted in his torture.

"That's awfully kinky of you."

"Alright, enough out of you," he grumbled, situating her for the hundredth time. "You have any better ideas?"

Tears pooled in her eyes, and she flicked them away. "I guess your only choice is to wait until the game ends, or someone causes enough commotion for you to adjust and take a break for a few minutes."

Cassian huffed, clearly unimpressed with her tactics.

"You'll just have to trust me, of all people, to keep your secret in the meantime," she stated, turning her attention back to the room.

His only response was a muttered curse before she felt his forehead drop between her shoulder blades.

#nessian #nessian au #nessianweek2021 #nessian week day 4 #day 4: rivalry #nesta x cassian #twsd writes #twsd fics #800 followers celebration

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andtheydontstopwriting · 3 years

Text

𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙨 -【Rodrick Heffley x F!Reader】- One-Shot

rating: pg

word count: 6.2k

summary: [y/n], daughter from a wealthy family from New York City, has been keeping her relationship with rodrick heffley a secret from her parents, though what happens if it’s brought up and her parents want to meet the secret boyfriend?

author’s note: here it is! hope you guys all enjoy it!! though i did want to let you know that i wrote this originally as a piece of work for my original character, which is why it is in third person! if you want to request anything feel free to!! once again, thank you for reading it!

keys: [y/nn] - your nickname

“I didn’t mean to tell them, [Y/NN].” Caleb spoke in hushed tones, as he attempted to prevent any outburst that he doubted would come from his younger sister, but it was still something that he felt that needed to be stopped, “But I’m sure neither you or Rodrick would exactly be thrilled if you ended up going to homecoming with David or Chad, and you know how dad-.”

“Listens to you, yes, I do know that, Caleb,” [Y/N] began, though her train of thought was shooting off in a million different directions, “And I do appreciate you trying to stick up for my happiness, but now we have to deal with what comes with doing that.”

It did not take long for Caleb to know what [Y/N] meant, because their father did bring it up in the conversation that started this whole situation.

“Father and Mother want to meet him.”

“And I don’t know if I can teach Rodrick to have the manners and social know-how that we and whoever Father believes would be more acceptable.”

“Maybe it’s for the best that’s the case, [Y/NN],” Caleb pointed out, placing a gentle hand on his

sister’s shoulder, “Give yourself the chance to step out of the spotlight for once, your happiness is what’s important.”

[Y/N] merely just nodded, because she knew that the standards their father placed on both of them were vastly different. Caleb could afford some level of security in the notion of not being worried about what their father thinks, because he does not have to work so hard to make their father happy.

This was something the teenager always had to grapple with growing up. Eventually, coming to terms with since she was the youngest, her future compared to her older brother’s was uncertain, unclear, and too many factors were up in the air: where was she going to college? What would her major be? What would her future career be? What sort of family would she have? Who would she marry?

Whereas Caleb had his future planned from the moment he was born: attend an ivy league for business then take over the family company, marry a family friend/one of the daughters of their father’s business associates or a family that would be useful to merge with and have a family. It was always clear and never questioned, even when they were kids. It took little effort on his part to make their father happy, because the expectations were clear as day and never took a moment of thought to figure out.

It was her burden to bear, and never had the strength in her to expect anyone to understand the judging gaze always cast her way, as if waiting for her to mess up or make a mistake to remind her of her failures no matter how perfect she appeared to the public eye. To her own boyfriend, even.

And part of her subconscious wished it would remain that way forever. But life has a funny way of working out in the end.

Her parents at dinner the same night her and Caleb conferred, they brought up having this mystery boy their daughter had been seeing secret over for dinner so they could have a chance to finally meet. [Y/N] had little say in the matter and the Saturday before Homecoming was agreed upon.

As soon as she returned to her bedroom for the night, [Y/N] knew she had to bring it up to Rodrick as soon as she could if they were to have any chance of staying together after that Saturday. The week they just about had was not going to be enough, but [Y/N] still felt she had to put the effort into trying to teach Rodrick at least table manners her parents would expect. But perhaps even that was pushing it.

:~+~:

“Your parents want to meet me?”

“Well, they did say they want to meet you, but I don’t think it’s because they know it’s you, Rodrick.”

Perhaps on their near nightly phone call was not the ideal place to tell Rodrick about the dinner, but it was the first instance she could get it out without her anxiety getting the better of her about telling him in the first place. It saved her having to tell him in person and save herself from seeing how he reacted in real time.

“And dinner was the best place for that to happen?” Rodrick questioned after a brief moment of silence and a familiar squeak of some springs faintly resounded into the speaker on his end. He must have

“With my family, yes,” The blonde confirmed, “With all things considered, with the holidays too far away and Homecoming approaching sooner, and they specifically said they wanted to meet you before the dance, a dinner is the only way.”

“Okay…” Rodrick trailed off, going silent for a moment, “When is dinner anyway?”

“Next Saturday,” [Y/N] replied, though quickly added before her boyfriend could speak, “We’re gonna have to have etiquette lessons, Rod, so I can teach you everything that you’re gonna need if you’re gonna make it through the night.”

“What do you mean etiquette, babe?”

“Like how to sit at a table, which fork and spoon to use and when to use them, what you can and can’t say, that sort of stuff. The basics.”

“Do you think a week is enough time to teach me all that junk?”

“Luckily for you, you have a great teacher and someone who has been taught this stuff her whole life, I think something will stick.”

“Alright, whatever you say babe,”

“I’ll even help you get ready,” [Y/N] promised, though had to amend it with, “I’ll try to, anyway, I'll at least come over to make sure you have an appropriate outfit because t-shirts won’t cut it.”

There was a clear groan of annoyance on the other end of the line before the teenager spoke, “You know I hate wearing ties, [Y/N], and I’m already pushin’ wearing it for Homecoming and not to church.”

“I know, I know,” [Y/N] sighed as she brought a hand up to her face as she stood from her bed to start pacing her room, “But it’s just for one more night than normal, Rodrick, I promise.”

“And what do I get in return, huh?”

“A girlfriend?”

“Okay, yeah, that’s a pretty solid deal.”

“So lessons start tomorrow, okay?”

“After the band practice,”

“After the band practice then.” [Y/N] confirmed as she sat on her bed once more, “Good night, sweetheart.”

“Night, babe.”

:~+~:

Okay, so the lessons did not go great, but they went about as well as [Y/N] expected. Teaching Rodrick how to behave and act as closely to the way she and her brother had grown up being taught was like pulling teeth, and much like chemistry, it was looking like nothing was sticking. And if anything was sticking, it was gone by the next day and they had to start over.

Meaning, come that fateful Saturday, [Y/N] could only hope that her very quick rundown of the basics, the true basics of what Rodrick needed to know the night before when she went over the Heffley’s house the previous night to get possible outfit choices ready and wrinkle free knowing the state of his bedroom and how clothes could be just...existing on the floor and if it was a process for her to find clean t-shirts of his to steal, then she figured the dressier clothes he owned were living the same way.

“What’s troubling you, little bird?” Her mother asked her daughter, as she had noticed that [Y/N] had been a little distracted in chopping the vegetables up. Not only that, she had been on edge since had left her bedroom that morning.

“I’m worried about dinner tonight, Mother,” [Y/N] answered, shaking her head a bit to refocus her attention on chopping the vegetables.

“I’m sure your Father will be on his best behavior, there’s no reason to be worried.” Helena spoke softly, reassuring her daughter with the soothing tones and having set the spoon down beside the stove top to go over and gently brush [Y/N]’s hair back, “Everything will be fine, little bird.”

As much as [Y/N] wanted to believe her mother was right, that things would be fine and everything would go smoothly,she also had to remind herself of her father’s constant attempts to control her life, and everything in her life. That included who she dates and there had been plenty of failed attempts in the past because of this meddling, and [Y/N], for once, just wanted to be free of the constant puppet strings attached to her that her father controlled.

“Father’s best behavior is turbulent, Mother, you know this,” [Y/N] pointed out with a sigh, “Rodrick isn’t exactly what Father believes to be best for me, and I’m afraid if Rodrick says one thing he doesn’t like, that's it, we’re through.”

“Your father’s opinion does not always matter, remember that his say is not final-”

“It’s been final before.” [Y/N] interjected, “Remember he wouldn’t let me try out for the cheer team?”

“He’s just looking out for what's best for you, that’s all.”

After that, the kitchen was silent save for the sounds of cooking, because once more [Y/N]’s anxiety took over and Helena simply did not know how to comfort her daughter anymore. It was easiest to just finish dinner and then go get ready for it, adn say nothing else on the matter for fear of making things worse.

However, just as [Y/N] was finishing up getting ready when she heard the familiar sound of an engine rumbling up the driveway. And gazing out of one of her bedroom windows that overlooked the front of the house, she saw the familiar van park in front of the garage.

So that is a good thing, Rodrick managed to remember to get there early as she insisted numerous times upon. Not that much earlier than the time she said dinner would start, but it was something, at least.

Next came the issue of watching Rodrick getting out of the van. While he did dress the part, the part was also distracting her that she kept her eyes trained on him before he disappeared under the roof that covered the front porch. It was indeed a rare instance for [Y/N] to see her boyfriend dressed up, considering she never exactly went with the Heffley family to church on Sundays.

So it was easy to understand as to why she had zoned out, nearly daydreaming and ogling over what she saw from a distance what her boyfriend was wearing. Though before she could fully dive into the daydream, the echoing sound of the ring of the doorbell echoed across the house and it was enough to snap [Y/N] out of her head and she was quick to stand from her vanity, hoping to make it to the front door before her parents or brother could open the door.

However, her attempts were in vain because of the delay it took her to stand and began the mad dash to the front of the house and the size of the home itself, and by the time she had reached the top of the stairs, she saw her mother already at the front door and as [Y/N] made her descent down the staircase, she heard what was spoken.

“Ah, so you must Rodrick,” Helena spoke, though [Y/N] could get a hint of confusion from the tone used, which [Y/N] assumed was because her mother had recognized Rodrick from the couple times she had seen him before when she first started to tutor the boy, but that was not brought up when Helen added, “Come in, come in.”

“Uh, thank you, Mrs. Clemens.” [Y/N] heard Rodrick speak as she continued her descent down the staircase, smiling to herself because at least something else stuck: always use formalities, never call my parents by their actual names.

As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was met with a beat of silence and then Rodrick saying without much hesitation, “You look beautiful,”

A dust of pink appeared on her cheeks and she briefly looked towards her mother away from Rodrick, who looked between the teenagers before taking the steps towards the dining room, allowing the young couple a moment alone before the dinner began.

“I have to admit, I know you hate getting all dressed up,” [Y/N] spoke as she neared Rodrick, reaching up to gently adjust the tie around his neck, “But I wouldn’t be opposed to you dressing up more often.”

“There isn’t a chance of that happening, babe, you know that.” Rodrick pointed out, though a teasing smile graced his face, which [Y/N] mirrored.

“A girl can dream, can’t she?”

Just as Rodrick was about to lean down to give [Y/N] a quick peck on the lips, he froze in his movements as he both heard a voice from down the hall echo around them and the fact he felt [Y/N] slightly tense up.

“Ah, [Y/N], dinner is about to start, I expected you to be in the dining room already.”

[Y/N] took a deep breath as she began to speak as she stepped to stand beside Rodrick instead, “Father, we were just heading there n-”

“This must be the secret boyfriend, then, Rodrick, wasn’t it?” Charlie interrupted, which was something [Y/N] was used to by then, and held a hand out to Rodrick (another thing [Y/N] could see right through--the charm of a businessman), “Charles.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Rodrick said as he briefly glanced at his girlfriend to see what to do, before [Y/N] replied with a glance down to her father’s extended hand, which Rodrick took with a little too much fervor, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Clemens.”

The energy behind Rodrick’s hand shake with her father was something that would not be much of an issue, but [Y/N] never had a how to shake a hand lesson herself, so it was overlooked when she was teaching her boyfriend what he would need to know. She was a girl, and the only thing she ever got on the subject matter was to be light and certain in the handshake, and that was all. So one look at her father’s face said all that she needed to know.

It was already off to a bad start and they had not even sat down for dinner yet.

Luckily her mother had called them into the dinning room before much more could already add to the poor outcome [Y/N] could start to sense coming already, no matter the words that echoed to counter the notion, hoping that things would look up from there forward.

And for the first part of dinner, it was as her mind had hoped it would be, as everything went smoothly. Any questions her parents asked to Rodrick, it took a moment, but he was always to pull something out that also did not make him nor his family look bad. The looks shared between the Clemens siblings were a mix of relief and happiness as the dinner progressed, because the lessons and seemingly did in the end stick with Rodrick more than [Y/N] previously had suspected they did.

“So, what is it you want to do with your life after you finish up high school, Rodrick?”

That was the question she was dreading, and one she was hoping for once her father would overlook and just accept that fact, move on that the future did not matter as much as the happiness of his children.

And the question must have also thrown Rodrick off for some reason, as he glanced once more at [Y/N] and in turn [Y/N] glanced at Caleb, a look of panic settling on her face.

“I think the team has a good chance of winning the game next week.” Caleb brought up, “So Homecoming may be a celebration for that win, too.”

“The football team has won every year the past several years, Caleb,” Charles pointed out, sighing as he set his fork down on the plate before him, “But that is not what we are talking about now, my boy.��

“The marching band is probably the best we’ve had in years, Father,” [Y/N] quickly added, clearly buying Rodrick enough time to try and find an answer to Charles’ question, “It’ll be worth going to the game for more than just the football team this year.”

“[Y/N], I believed I asked Rodrick a question, so I would appreciate it if you would allow him to answer.” Charles said, his tone rising from calm coolness, to slight agitation as he took a deep breath to calm down once more, “Now, Rodrick, what do you want to do with your future?”

“To be a musician.”

“Oh, a musician,” Helena tried to express some happiness in the discovery, “Are you in the school orchestra with [Y/N]?”

“N-no, Mrs. Clemens,” Rodrick realized his mistake of bringing up the fact he wanted to be a musician, but at the same time, if he said he didn’t know, he was sure he and [Y/N] would be over then and there, “I’m in a band with some of my friends.”

“What type of music do you play then?” Charles asked and [Y/N] and Caleb once more exchanged looks before [Y/N] looked to Rodrick once again. A look that said there was no point in lying about it now.

“Heavy metal.”

“Oh…” Charles began, glancing between [Y/N] and Rodrick, before his eyes landed once again on Rodrick, “That’s an interesting choice, have you not considered going to college or another career path?”

“Charles,” Helena interjected, giving her husband a look from across the table, “Now is not the time.”

“What?” Charles asked, clearly confused as to what his wife could mean, “What’s so wrong about getting to know the boy who my little princess is dating?”

From there, Helena merely just shook her head and dinner continued in silence, The only sound was the clatter of utensils as they hit the plate. [Y/N] kept her gaze down at the plate in front of her, merely just pushing what food was left around on her plate. Though, at some point, under the table, she reached over to gently grab a hold of Rodrick’s hand. To which, Rodrick merely just briefly looked over to [Y/N] and the only thing he could really do in reaction to it, was to let go of the tension in his shoulders before attempting to finish the meal before him.

As expected, her mother announced that she would go and get dessert not too long after, but it would be a few minutes to warm it up once again. So as [Y/N] stood to start clearing the table, her father also stood.

“[Y/N], could I speak to you for a moment?” Was all he said before he started his way towards the office he had at home.

[Y/N] knew what would come from this conversation, and she had to try to be strong this time. She knew that this conversation would be her dad trying to get [Y/N] to break things off with Rodrick--something she knew was going to happen as soon as her father brought up the question of what Rodrick wanted to do with the future. His dream was not to be anything her father expected the man [Y/N] to be with. And it was time for her to take her own life into her own hands after so long of being looked down upon and controlled by the plan her father had for her.

“What is it you see in that boy, [Y/N]?” Charles questioned as soon as the door to the office was shut behind [Y/N].

“I can assure you that Rodrick is someone with more than meets the eye, Father.” [Y/N] answered clearly as she rose to stand up a little straighter.

“But you are aware that he is not ideal, don’t you?” Her father spoke as he folded his arms behind his back, taking the strides to stand in front of his daughter, “You should be with someone like Edward Vill or Chad Danford. Not someone who you met tutoring, and someone who believes his heavy metal band will take off.”

He waited a moment for [Y/N] to speak, but all she did instead was lower her head and folded her hands at her front, so Charles continued, “All you have to do is end things with Rodrick and your future already looks brighter, my princess.”

“That’s your plan for my life, though,” [Y/N] pointed out, her tone quieter than she wanted it to come out, but she soon found her confidence once more as she added, “For once I want to do things my way, so with all due respect father, I don’t think I will break things off with Rodrick no matter what your standards are for me.”

“The standards I hold for you are meant to ensure you have a future.” Charles began, using a variation of the same speech [Y/N] heard time and time again, “As you know, your brother will take over the company, so I just want to make sure your foundation is strong in whatever ways I can provide. You’re young, you know little of how the world works.”

“Have you not realized that in trying to live up to your expectations, I’m putting my own happiness at stake?”

“The real world knows nothing of individual happiness, [Y/N], success is the only thing that will cultivate any sense of the word.”

“I’m doing my best as I am right now, and then some, trying to gain the success you wish from me,” [Y/N] finally lifted her gaze up, though the tears starting to well in her eyes as soon as she did, looking at the man she called father, but had not felt like one in years, “But even with all that I have accomplished and juggled since we moved, you still think I’m a failure, and nothing I ever do is right.”

“There’s always more, you never have to stop working and aiming high.” Charles’s voice began to rise once again, “And being with that boy is going to prevent you from doing such.”

[Y/N] shook her head just as the tears started to fall from her eyes, “I’m done trying to be what you think I am, because I’ll never be good enough for you.”

“Young lady, you listen-” Charles began, but [Y/N] was quick to interrupt for once.

“No, I’m done listening and following whatever it is you say for me to do, I’m choosing my happiness for once, which means I am not breaking up with Rodrick just because you do not approve of him.”

And while Charles attempted to persuade [Y/N] otherwise, he did try to get her to understand why he does what he does, but [Y/N] was not having it. And despite his efforts to also get her to stay, [Y/N] was quick to make her leave, knowing if she stayed any longer it would turn out uglier than it had already become. And they did not need that to happen.

Instead, [Y/N] tried her best to compose herself, keep herself together, as she went back into the dining room to get Rodrick. She did not need her brother or her boyfriend doting on her immediately, and she had to stay strong as she left the family home because she could not afford any more signs of weakness.

Though the soft hand on Rodrick’s shoulder and her quiet yet slightly quivering voice as [Y/N] asked, “Can we leave now?” was all Rodrick needed to have to know things did not go well when she talked with her dad, but he didn’t know what was discussed.

“See you around, Caleb,” Rodrick said before he stood from the dining table and [Y/N] was quick to grab a hold of his hand to walk out of the house.

“Young lady, you stay in this house or you’ll be grounded for the rest of your life!” She heard her father call out as he was approaching the foyer, but Helena was quick to hold him back.

“Charles, let her go,” She tried to reason with her fuming husband, “You two need some space right now,”

[Y/N] shot a quick apologetic look to her mother as she grabbed her purse hanging by the front door before opening the large wooden door and stepped outside.

“Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Clemens, it was real good!” Rodrick felt like he needed to say something before he shut the door behind him, and that was what happened to come out. Perhaps it was nerves talking and not filtering his thoughts that were not filled with concern for his girlfriend. And when they cleared the steps of the front porch, the boy was quick to make the steps to walk side by side, gently squeezing [Y/N]’s hand as they got to the van.

As soon as everything was unlocked, and both were in their respective spots, Rodrick turned the noisy van on, backed up, and began the drive down the long driveway and back onto the street. [Y/N], meanwhile, just leaned her head against the window, staring mindlessly out the side view mirror and watched as the house she had started to call home grew smaller and smaller as they moved away from it, and she could see two figures standing on the porch but soon as they turned the corner onto the street, they were out of sight.

:~+~:

Rodrick did not know what [Y/N] wanted to do, and she had been silent since asking him to leave her house. So he assumed it best to play it safe and drive around town as she calmed down enough to tell him what she wanted to do, or at least, he felt like she could answer when asked what she wanted to do. He knew by then to not push [Y/N], let her do things at her own time, because of his experience during finals last year and how she got so stressed out she shut down for a few hours.

Though after an hour of driving, from the corner of his eye, Rodrick could see that [Y/N] made an effort to lift her head off of the window and that was the sign that she was calming down and he made the choice to ask a question.

“Wanna hit up the convenience store since we bailed on dessert?”

There was a moment of silence, then two, then three, before Rodrick heard the defeated voice of his girlfriend come from her mouth, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And with that guidance and direction on what to do next, Rodrick complied and drove to the nearest convenience store.

The next thirty minutes or so of the evening for the young couple were spent attempting to rid themselves of the pain and sorrow of the evening that had happened earlier. Trying to be young once more without any burdens or cares. And with this attempt to change how the night progressed, came the night chill and while Rodrick was fine, [Y/N] was not. Luckily, or unluckily, Rodrick had left one of his sweatshirts in the back of the van--which was the unlucky part, because it was found in the back of the van and who knows when it was last washed. But it was better than nothing, so [Y/N] accepted it and was grateful it at least smelled of him--the cologne he started to wear more frequently, that is. Once inside the shop, they moved through the snack and candy aisles with careful thought and consideration of what they wanted, with [Y/N] clinging onto Rodrick’s arm, her head resting upon his upper arm as they moved through the aisles and made their decisions of what felt appropriate for the evening--for Rodrick, a bag of chips and for [Y/N] a bag of sour gummy candy, as well as a bag of chocolate to share between them, and went to check out.

They chose to just sit and eat in the back of the van, still parked in the parking lot of the convenience store, as it was easier than finding somewhere else to go. They also sat in considerable silence once again, the only sounds this time were the bags crinkling and the sound of the crunch of the chip whenever Rodrick ate one, side by side as close as they could be and eat with ease at the same time.

“I’m tired of trying to be good enough,” [Y/N] suddenly spoke, breaking the silence that fell over them once she had decided she had finished with her candy for now.

Rodrick, who had been in the middle of eating a chip when [Y/N] decided to speak up, was grateful that he had something in his mouth as it allowed him the time to process what his girlfriend just said and figure out what he was going to say in return. In the meantime, he set aside his bag of chips and shifted enough to reach out and grab a hold of [Y/N]’s hand.

“I’m tired of tryin’, too,” Was what he apparently settled with, having never exactly been good at the whole comforting thing, “So we can be tired of it together.”

There was no verbal response from [Y/N], but she responded to this statement by gently rolling her head onto his shoulder, her other hand also came up to start playing with his fingers after setting the bag of candy down. So Rodrick took this that she was listening to what he was saying, but wasn’t sure in what way.

“Buuuut, one of the smartest girls I know taught me once that having two negatives together ends up canceling out the other, so we can just be tired together, instead.”

With this addition, a breathy laugh was heard in his ears and a proud little half smile appeared on his face as he heard her voice once again not being plagued by anxiety, but simply by sleepiness.

“I don’t think you understood that full lesson, sweetheart, remember how you almost flopped that test because you didn’t?”

With her statement being made, Rodrick’s smile grew into a full one before he tilted his head to place a gentle but loving kiss to the top of her head, before he murmured against her hair, “But I would have totally failed without you, babe.”

“We can just be tired together, Rodrick,” [Y/N] confirmed after a moment of quiet enjoyment of the moment, “And deal with all the teenage bullshit together.”

“Wow, did you just swear, babe?” Rodrick said in joking disbelief as he leaned away to look at [Y/N] head on.

“It’s been a long night, sweetheart.”

“My place?”

“I don’t think either of our parents would appreciate us sleeping in the back of your van, so yes, your place.”

:~+~:

“Where have you two been?” Was what they were greeted with as soon as they arrived at the Heffley family home, “We’ve been worried sick!”

“Sorry, mom,” Rodrick began, stepping in front of [Y/N] as he added, “We just went on a drive and stopped to get snacks, that’s all.”

“Your mother called, [Y/N], and she was worried when I said you weren’t here, but I’ll go call her to come get you, okay?”

“N-no,” [Y/N] began, the stammer in her voice stopped Susan from going to the phone in the living room, and Frank just looked at her confused, “I, uh, don’t want to go back home tonight, can I please stay?”

“What happened at the dinner that made you not want to go home?” Frank questioned.

“Just some family stuff,” [Y/N] covered easily, though she took a step to stand closer to Rodrick as she continued, “...Didn’t leave on the best of terms.”

“Oh, then of course you can stay, and we can figure this all out tomorrow, but I am going to call your mom back and let her know you’re safe, okay?” Susan said with a gentle smile and [Y/N] reciprocated the smile with a quiet, thank you, before Mrs. Heffley added, “You can sleep on the couch, after I make the call I’ll go get you a blanket,”

“Can she actually sleep in my room?” Rodrick brought up, his tone rushed, to which both his parents gave him a stern look but before his mom could even get the answer of no out, he added, “I don’t want her to be alone after what happened, is all.”

Susan and Frank gave each other a look, before they looked at Rodrick and [Y/N], and they caught the young couple glancing at each other and they saw the softest expression on Rodrick’s face they have ever seen on their son and once more looked back at each other.

“On an air mattress.” Frank said, pointing a finger at the both of them, to which the pair nodded before Mr. Heffley turned to go get the air mattress from the basement.

:~+~:

So [Y/N] never ended up sleeping on the air mattress.

She started out there, trying to do right by Rodrick’s parents since they allowed her to sleep in their son’s bedroom, which she could not be in past 8:30 on a school night usually. But sleeping in some of Rodrick’s clothes and with him only feet away, she was crawling in right beside him not even five minutes in of trying to fall asleep.

When she awoke the next morning, [Y/N] felt a weight on her chest, and not the emotional kind. No, it was almost the entire dead weight of her sound asleep boyfriend sleeping over top of her, his head resting on her shoulder, his wild bed hair tickling her neck. She did not move him off or attempt anything, instead choosing to bask in this moment they rarely got to have and enjoy a quiet Rodrick for once, a version of him totally at peace. Gently, she started to run her fingers along his back through the t-shirt he was wearing, before the fingers of her other hand started to gently card through his hair, which only settled the sleeping teenager deeper into her.

When he settled a little deeper into rest, this was when she had a slight struggle with breathing, and [Y/N] knew that she had to do what was usually impossible: waking Rodrick up.

But luckily for her, she knew a solid weak point that often got him up if he ended up falling asleep before one of their tutoring sessions: tickling his sides.

The action did not shoot him straight awake, but it was enough to shock his brain into making him open his eyes, and groggily lift his head up.

At first, it was clear he was about to settle back into the sleep he just awoke from, but before his eyes fully shut, they opened once more as he processed he was not laying on his mattress, but instead his girlfriend and the sleepy grin that appeared as he lifted his head once more and gazed down at her with half-lidded eyes was a sight [Y/N] would never get used to no matter how much she saw it.

“Good mornin’ babe…” Rodrick mumbled as he began to lean down to give her a good morning kiss too, before he was promptly pushed away with a gentle hand.

“Your morning breath is atrocious, sweetheart,” [Y/N] pointed out with a quiet laugh, “It could kill.”

“C’mon, you know I would never kill you, babe.” Rodrick pouted, “Now c’mon and give me a good morning kiss.”

Rodrick instead kissed all over her face as [Y/N] kept moving her head to avoid Rodrick meeting her lips, but their playfulness was cut short as they heard Susan’s voice from down the staircase calling up to them:

“Rodrick! [Y/N]! It’s time for breakfast!”

And fearing that Susan would come in to check on things, the pair moved--Rodrick faster than he ever had in the morning--to get [Y/N] into the air mattress. It was a bit of a scramble and [Y/N] nearly tripped getting off the twin bed, but she had slipped under the throw blanket on the air mattress just as Susan began her descent up the staircase, and the teenagers pretended to be asleep.

Until they heard the sigh and Susan making her way back down the stairs, their eyes were shut but the moment she heard his mother’s voice away from the attic door, [Y/N] quietly slipped off the air mattress and made her way back to Rodrick’s bed, where she leaned down to give his a soft kiss on the lips.

“We should probably go down stairs soon, sweetheart.”

Rodrick opened his eyes at the feeling and smiled up at [Y/N], who smiled down at him in return.

“I hate it when you’re right, babe.”

It was this moment they both realized something very important, very pivotal.

They both loved the other, and it was a somewhat scary yet exciting thought.

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid

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donald4spiderman · 3 years

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Ok hear me out. Spencer is dating Reader and she’s always hated that she’s been more chubby/curvy. And one night in the middle of a case she calls him crying and Spencer just gets really soft and calms her down after a bad nightmare. And his heart breaks cause his loving girlfriend hates her body. So Spencer plans this elaborate date and proposes maybe? You can decide if the team have met her or not. I’d like it to be the original team but if you wanna combine the original and new teams together that’s cool too!

no bc my body image issues have been rampant lately so this is personal as hell to me. I work out a lot and i’m fit but i’ve never been SKINNY like i have thick legs and muscular arms andnnfnfjndjnffn so this is personal.

I modified this a bit but it’s still the same premises hope you like it! ***BTW IN THIS UNIVERSE THE S3-7 CAST EXISTS FOR THE ENTIRE SHOW— SO THE LATER SEASONS HAVE MORGAN AND HOTCH.

also sorry this is a long

TW: body image issues, discussions of food & weight, insecurity, crying, kissing

WC: 1.5k

You know, pragmatically, that you have nothing to worry about. Spencer chose you. And for the past four years, Spencer has worshipped you every day— again and again. He is the most loving, considerate, and tender partner you could ever wish for. He is near perfection.

You’ve met Spencer's friends many times. You’re not close with either of your parents, so the team of profilers welcomed you into their arms with grace and care. Each and every one of them is beautifully amazing and exceptionally brilliant.

Spencer‘s friends are not only badass, but they’re also gorgeous. JJ, Emily, and Garcia are national treasures— so visually stunning it’s almost sickening.

You knew he used to have a crush on JJ way before he met you. You’ve also heard the tale of Lila Archer, the celebrity actress who made out with your boyfriend in a pool. Spencer’s had an eventful life, full of beautiful, sweet, magnificent women— so why does he choose you?

You view yourself as bland in comparison. What do you have to offer Spencer that he can’t find elsewhere? You don’t have toned abs, slim hips, and slender arms. You’re not striking in any way.

Spencer calls you every night when he’s away on a case. He’s never missed a call, even when he got shot in the neck and kidnapped by a murderous cult. He’s reliable and consistent, and that eases your worries a little bit.

It’s eleven pm in D.C. and your phone rings right as your getting in bed.

“Hi, my love,” Spencer says breathily, his voice slightly muffled by the phone. He’s away in Ohio for a case.

“Hey.” You reply, the sweetness in his voice soured by your mood. “How’s the case going?”

“Good. JJ and I are about to pass out in our beds— we’re so tired.”

You can’t help the way your face drops. “Oh. Well, get rest.”

Your about to hang up before he interjects. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?” You know better than to lie to your boyfriend, who happens to be an expert on human behavior.

“Okay, I know a lie when I hear one. (Y/N), baby, what’s wrong?” He pleads.

You can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek. “God, I’m sorry. I just miss you so much. You always know what to do when I’m feeling like shit.”

Spencer knows how much you struggle with self and bodily acceptance. He hates the world for making you feel anything less than incredible, both inside and out.

“I miss you too, so much, (Y/N).” His voice is thick as if he’s going to start crying too. “I love you so much, so fucking much. You have no idea how beautiful and amazing you are.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He laughs through a sob that wrecks his body. “You deserve everything in this world. I promise to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. You are the love of my life.”

You wipe the tears from underneath your eyes. “Sorry for keeping you up. You must be tired.”

“Never, if it means I get to talk to you.”

“I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you too, (Y/N). More than you’ll ever know.”

Spencer wakes up the next day with a newfound determination. The team solves the case as fast as possible, and by the end of the night, they’ve boarded the jet back home.

Spencer has more than enough hours to think about you and how much you mean to him. Hotch is seated directly across from him, rereading the case files.

“Hotch?” The wiser man looks up from his files, raising an eyebrow.

Spencer pauses for a moment. Maybe he’d be better asking Morgan or JJ for advice, considering Hotch’s tragic circumstances regarding Haley.

But no one loves like Hotch does-- sincerely, passionately-- stronger than anything else in the world. Spencer decides there’s no one better to ask.

“How uh did you know that Haley was the one?”

Hotch’s eyes soften for a bit. He clears his throat. “I knew since the day I met her that I would love her for the rest of my life unconditionally. She makes me complete. Do you feel that (Y/N) makes you complete?”

He already knows why Spencer is asking for his advice, steering the conversation in that direction.

“Yes. She’s my world.” Spencer whispers.

“Then it’s simple, really. Love doesn’t need to be complicated and precise. It’s what you do with it that matters.”

“I want to marry her, Hotch. I want to be with her for the rest of my life.”

Hotch smiles, “Then do it.”

Spencer feels the rush of excitement as he gathers everyone on the jet, including the prior sleeping passengers, filling them in on his big plans.

“I need all of your guys’ help.”

There’s a firm knock on your door at four in the morning. You know it isn’t Spencer because he has a key, but who could it be?

You take a cautious look out of your peephole to find Penelope, Emily, and JJ outside.

“What are you guys doing here?” You yawn. “For god's sake, it’s four am.”

“We know, and we’re sorry.” Penelope smiles.

“Is Spencer alright?” You ask, wondering if things suddenly went wrong during the case.

But by the joyous look on their face, you know nothing somber occurred.

“Spencer’s completely fine. But, we need to you to get changed and come with us. FBI’s orders.” JJ chuckles.

You change into warmer clothes in minutes, and the BAU ladies usher you into Emily’s car as fast as possible.

“So, no ones gonna tell me what’s going on?”

They shake their heads, “We’re just... running a quick errand.”

After a few more minutes of driving, Emily parks on the side of a dimly lit street.

“I need you to put this on.” She says, holding up a blindfold.

“Are you guys gonna murder me?” You joke, slipping the fabric over your eyes with little resistance.

“Quite the opposite, actually.” You don’t have time to think about what Penelope means before you’re being yanked out of the car.

You walk, guided by JJ, for four minutes. The grass beneath you crushes below your boots, and the hushed whispers of Emily and Penelope behind you do nothing to calm your nerves.

“Okay,” JJ says, halting to a stop. “You can take off your blindfold now.”

You hesitantly slip the blindfold off, revealing a brightly lit table in the middle of a secluded field. Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi are standing off to the sides.

Suddenly, Spencer emerges from behind a tree, dusting the leaves and dirt off his adorable sweater.

“Hi?” You laugh, utterly confused by this situation. “What’s going on?”

His hands are shaking, and he has to swallow a few times before he can speak. “I-I uh got y-you apple pie— uh your favorite.”

Spencer walks you towards the table, where a small slice of warm pie sits lonely on the table.

“Y-you should um... eat it.” He urges, pointing at the knife and fork next to it.

You glance around, trying to gauge the emotions of everyone around you, but fail. Stupid profilers and their poker faces.

Your fork cuts into the heavenly smelling pie, and you scoop up a bite into your mouth.

“It’s... good? I’ll pretty much eat any pie you give me, Spencer.”

He smiles, “I know that. But t-this is a special pie.”

“Okay...”

“You should t-take a closer look— at the pie.”

You inspect the dessert, completely puzzled until a glinting piece of silver catches your eye. Spencer notices the shock in your face and catches the plate that almost falls out of your hand.

Morgan hands him a napkin, and when Spencer pulls an apple-covered ring from the slice of pie, you almost faint.

“No way.” You gasp; tears spring to your eyes as Spencer wipes the ring clean.

He holds it tightly between two fingers, bending to kneel on one knee.

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), I knew from the moment I met you that you were the most special woman I’d have the pleasure of meeting. A month later, you asked me out for our first date, and I couldn’t believe that someone as gorgeous and amazing as you would settle for someone like me.” You scoff at his humility.

“I spend every moment loving every part of you, (Y/N). None of my love will ever stop— ever. I promise to share my heart with you until the very end. There is absolutely no one I would rather be bonded to for the rest of my life. You are better than my dream girl because you’re real. You’re here, and you chose to love me every day— the good, the bad, and the ugly. (Y/N), will you do me the honor and great privilege of allowing me to become your husband?” You silently sob.

“Please say yes.” Spencer smiles.

“Yes!” You exclaim, pulling him up to hug him. “How could I say anything but!”

The dam breaks, and the entire team begins to cry as you and Spencer share a passionate kiss, almost collapsing down onto the grass from the sheer force of your love. He slips the ring onto your finger; it belongs there.

“I choose you, (Y/N).” He repeats.

“I choose you, Spencer, always.” You whisper into the crook of his neck.

Nothing’s ever felt so right.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #dr reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #spence #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic

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syllvane · 3 years

Text

she’s a rainbow- natasha romanoff x reader

a/n: this was loosely requested by anon, inspired by a song of the same name

The first time you see her, she is dressed in blue.

You’re at one of Tony’s parties- and you don’t want to be there, you’d rather be anywhere else in the world in fact, but you work for Tony and more than that, you’re worried for him.

Though you both had worked closely on things regarding the Iron Man suit, he had been pulling away from you without any explanation as to why. The closest that you had gotten to an explanation was whenever he got drunk and started mumbling about a new energy source or something.

You stood in the corner of the party, nursing a drink as the lights flashed and the music played loudly, so loud that you could barely hear yourself think over the music, much less have a conversation.

You made your way outside of the house and even there, a small part of the party seemed to have spilled out of the house and you weren’t able to find the peace and quiet that you were looking for.

Someone touched your arm gently and you spun around, not knowing who to expect, though it certainly wasn’t her.

She had long, dark red hair and she was wearing a beautiful midnight blue dress to match, her hair done in curls.

You didn’t believe in love at first sight but looking at her, you thought that maybe you had been wrong.

“Oh, I’m so sorry- I thought you were someone else,” She said, smiling sheepishly. “What’s your name?”

You told her your name, momentarily losing your train of thought.

“What about you? What’s your name?”

“Natalie Rushman- I’m Ms. Pott’s personal assistant at Stark Industries,” She smiled, extending her hand out.

You extended your own, taking her hand and shaking it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Natalie- and welcome to Stark Industries.”

Were the two of you technically coworkers? If you dated each other, would you have to tell HR about it?

“So, what do you do? Famous model, actress?” She suggested and you laughed slightly.

“Now you’re just flattering me, I mean if anyone’s the model here, it’s you. I just work with Tony on the Iron Man project and things of that nature.”

Her eyes went wide as if she was more impressed by that than any of the things she mentioned before.

“Just? Don’t downplay how smart you have to be for that, humble isn’t a good look on you.”

“You’re right, I guess… just a force of habit.”

She smiled softly.

“It must be a strange work environment if he’s always this… impulsive.”

You glanced back towards the inside of the house, seeing several models on each of Tony’s arms.

He was clearly drunk.

“He wasn’t… it’s been different these past couple of months. I don’t know, if Tony’s good at one thing besides engineering, it’s bottling up his feelings.”

She nodded intently, hanging onto every word that you were saying.

“I’m sorry. That must be tough for you.”

You sighed.

“It’s harder to see him like this than it is when he ices me out.”

She opened her mouth to speak but before she could, Tony stumbled out of the doors.

“There you are, Natalie- come back in and enjoy the party!” He beckoned before being pulled back inside.

Natalie looked at you apologetically.

“I should… it was nice talking to you though, really,” She said, giving you a small smile before she entered the house once again.

As you would later learn, that was the only honest thing that she told you that entire conversation.

The crowd roared as she entered the home and she did not look back at you once.

The next time you see her, she is dressed in black.

All pretense of meekness was gone and what was left was a woman with the same red curls as before, her midnight blue dress traded in for a black jumpsuit with long sleeves.

She is sitting on Tony’s front porch step and given the way her eyes are following you as you made your way up the drive, you guessed that it was you who she wanted to talk to.

“You lied to me,” You said, almost wincing at how childish your accusation sounded- of course she had lied to you, that was her job.

She was a spy, she didn’t owe you an explanation or an apology.

“I’m sorry,” She said, her words careful. “If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have.”

You don’t believe her.

“Why are you even here, Natalie? I-”

“It’s Natasha,” She corrected and you didn’t say anything for a couple of moments.

You truly knew nothing about her and more than that, you trusted nothing about her. After all, what was stopping her from lying about being named ‘Natasha’ as well?

“As for why I’m doing this… I don’t know. I didn’t want you to think that it was all fake, I guess.”

You crossed your arms.

“So what was real then?”

Another pause.

"I really did like you,” She said softly and even though you desperately wanted to be angry at her, you couldn’t help but melt slightly. “And you are too good for him.”

“We’re not…” You took a step back from her as if she had just slapped you. “Are you just trying to manipulate me into joining SHIELD?”

She blinked, as if the thought had never even crossed her mind.

“What- no! I think you’d be a good fit for SHIELD, but I wasn’t…” She fell silent, studying you once again. “That’s all you think I am now, isn’t it? A spy.”

You shrugged helplessly, tears pricking your eyes.

“You haven’t given me much else to go on.”

“Forget it. Just… go back to someone who completely undervalues the work that you do and just forget that I exist. I’ll do the same for you.”

She stormed off without saying anything else, getting into a black unmarked car and driving off.

When you see her again, her hair is shorter and although you aren’t positive, you think you’re on a plane.

You also have the worst headache of your entire life and vague memories of the past couple of days, all of which seem to be tinted in blue.

“I liked your long hair better,” You mumbled and she rolled her eyes, though a small smile appeared on her face.

“You didn’t take my advice about forgetting me.”

“Can you blame me?” You said before you winced, your head throbbing. “What happened? I remember… a portal opened, I think. And some guy… walked out. The rest is fuzzy.”

“That guy… Loki… he mind-controlled you. A bunch of people, actually.”

“Wait,” You sat up straight, causing a wave of dizziness to rush over you. “Loki, as in Norse mythology Loki? That Loki?”

“Yes.”

You sat there for a second, thinking.

“Hm. That’s interesting.”

She blinked.

“You’re handling this surprisingly well.”

You shrugged slightly.

“I’m a scientist. It wouldn’t do me any good to ignore the evidence that’s been presented to me.”

She didn’t respond, handing you a cup with medicine in it.

“For your head,” She said and you nodded, looking at the pills before taking them with the water that was just off to the side. “I didn’t take my own advice either, you know. I didn’t forget about you.”

You stayed silent for a couple of seconds.

“Why not?”

“I already told you, didn’t I? I really did like you,” She said, not meeting your eyes.

“I liked you too. But I don’t… I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

She thought about this for a minute.

“What are you doing Thursday night?”

“If the world hasn’t ended by then? Probably going back to work.”

“Have dinner with me. I might not even make it out of this alive, but-”

“Yes.”

A small smirk appeared on her face.

“That didn’t take long.”

“Oh shut up,” You said, a small smile on your face. “Don’t you have a city to save?”

She glanced towards the door before looking back at you.

“I suppose I do. I’ll see you on the other side?”

“I hope so,” You said softly and she smiled before walking out of the room you were recovering in.

The next time you see her is on Thursday, outside of the address that she texted you.

You are nearly twenty minutes late because of all the damage that had been done during the Battle of New York, but when you arrive, she is standing there in a pale gold dress, her hair curled and styled like she just walked out of the 1920s.

You are rendered speechless by her beauty and she just looked at you and smirked.

“Something catch your attention?” She asked innocently and you rolled your eyes, though you felt heat rise to your cheeks. She offered you her hand and you took it. “I feel the same way about you, you know. You take my breath away.”

The two of you walked into the restaurant together, hand in hand and as certain as you had once been that there would be no relationship between you and Natasha, you found your own doubts about your relationship with her slowly slipping away.

And they continue to slip away.

Her dress is emerald green when she tells you about her adopted family, about Ohio and about Yelena, and it’s silver like moonlight when she stands up on her tiptoes to kiss you on the doorstep of your apartment.

It’s sky blue when she introduces you to the rest of the Avengers as her girlfriend and it’s a black, oversized hoodie when she first tells you that she loves you, laying next to you on the couch, half-asleep and fighting off a cold.

(You say it back, but she’s already fallen back asleep. You don’t worry though, because you know that you have all the time in the world to say it.)

Her dress is white when the two of you finally get married and her hair is longer, curled like it was the night you first met.

Tony is drunk again and is taking credit for your love story in his toast, but you don’t care, not as long as you’re with her.

You can face anything, you think, as long as you’re with her.

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rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Lost and Found

Pairing: Yuji x Reader

Summary: You’ve always wondered what happened to that pink haired boy who had become your closest friend in the very early years of your life and you finally get the answers you’ve been searching for.

A/N: This is for the Anilysium Server’s SFW collab. Masterlist can be found here!

The first thing you notice about Yuji is his pink hair. There are lots of kids your age playing in the park, laughing and talking to each other in the sandbox, on the swings, at the playground. But it’s that shocking head of pink that grabs your attention and with childish innocence and curiosity you make a beeline for the boy you don’t know, ignoring your mom’s warning to stop running. And it’s with embarrassment that your mom chases after you, profusely apologizing to Yuji’s grandfather when you grab a tuft of that soft pink hair in your little fist in awe.

But fortunately for the both of you, the older man just smiles and waves away your mom’s mortification and Yuji giggles, light brown eyes sparking as he grabs a strand of your hair in return, commenting on its color.

It might be the strangest greeting either adult has ever seen, but it seems to work as you both release each other’s hair and instinctively reach for each other’s hands as you race towards the sandbox, chattering about what the two of you can build together with the little plastic buckets and shovels sprawled about.

Yuji’s always been a social child, boys and girls naturally drawing towards his sunny disposition and outgoing nature. So it’s not shocking to see how quickly he’s befriended you. But what is interesting is how attached he is to you and his grandfather smiles in amusement when Yuji instantly searches for you first when he goes to the park each day, flat out ignoring the excited cries from his other friends to join them, either perking up or pouting depending on if you’re there or not. And to both his and your mother’s entertainment, you seem equally enamored. The two adults exchange knowing smiles when you practically drag your mom into a sprint upon seeing your new best friend.

Your parents take turns taking you to the park depending on their work schedules and on the weekends the three of you all go, enjoying a day off as a family. The Itadoris get to know both your parents well and the adults picnic and chat amicably and easily as Yuji and you romp and run around the park.

But it was only a matter of time before your curiosity got the better of you and for once Yuji is quiet when you ask him why it’s always his grandpa who brings him to the park.

“Where’s your mommy and daddy?”

There’s no malicious intent and you quirk your head in confusion when he doesn’t immediately answer what seems like an easy question to you.

“I don’t have a mommy and daddy.”

You’re not sure what to do or think of that reply, so you easily move on to your next question full speed ahead in a way only children can, leaving the weird feeling surrounding Yuji and you far behind. And this time it’s Yuji’s turn to cock his head in confusion with your next inquiry.

“Do you want to get married when you’re older?”

“Married? What’s that?”

“Married like my mommy and daddy! It’s when two people really like each other and want to spend the rest of their lives together.”

The concept of a mom and dad aren’t foreign to Yuji. He knows it’s normal, knows he’s the odd man out even at his young age with only a grandpa to take care of him. But he’s never dwelled too much on why he doesn’t have a pair of parents, fully satisfied and happy living with his grandpa.

But marriage...that’s a new concept he can’t quite understand, something he’s never seen firsthand or grown up with in the household. And he listens in awe as you ramble on with your explanation.

Is that why your parents always seem so happy together? Is that why grandpa sometimes seems so sad? Because he isn’t married? Yuji wants to be happy too!

“Let’s get married!”

You stare wide-eyed at the enthusiastic boy staring intently at you, surprised by the decisiveness in his tone.

“I really like you and I want to play together with you forever!”

Well when he puts it like that…

You grab his hands in yours and excitedly nod your head.

“I really like you too! Let’s tell my parents and your grandpa!”

Three sets of mouths gape at the two of you when you determinedly stand in front of where the adults are seated, hands entwined as you announce that the two of you are going to get married. And then there’s laughter and your parents and Yuji’s grandfather are cooing and shaking their heads in amusement at how adorable the two of you are.

“Marriage is for when you’re older, so Yuji and you have to wait a little longer until you get married, okay?”

“Okay!” you both scream before running off to play on the slide, promise already pushed to the back of your little heads as you shriek and giggle about who can get down the slide faster.

Life continues on and despite how months pass and then years, the two of you never tire of each other, only seeming to become closer and closer. So it makes it that much more jarring when Yuji suddenly disappears.

Your parents don’t know what to do, cursing themselves for not exchanging numbers with Yuji’s grandfather and their hearts break watching you patiently sit alone on a park bench, refusing to play with or meet anyone else, telling everyone you’re waiting for your best friend. They hope it’s just a one day thing, but one day becomes two, two becomes three, and when Yuji and his grandfather never appear for an entire month, you also stop going to the park, the location only causing you more distress than good.

Fortunately this happens not too long before you enter middle school and your parents sigh in relief when you become too busy acclimating to a new school environment and making new friends to continue crying over the sudden loss of your best friend. Sadness is more fleeting in your youth and they’re grateful for this, warmly welcoming the new friends you bring back home after school to study with.

You never forget Yuji. You don’t think you could ever completely forget the boy who had been your first ever close friend. But he begins to become a distant fond memory, a mystery you think you’ll never solve. You think of him from time to time, especially as you get older and gossip about cute boys in high school, giggling and asking each other how many kids you want when you’re older, who you’re going to marry.

A wistful smile spreads across your face and you remember how sure you had been as a child that Yuji was going to be your husband, confident promises from two children who didn’t know the first thing about marriage and love. You wonder what he looks like now. Is he as happy and easygoing as he used to be? Is he as loud and talkative? Does he have a girlfriend?

You get your answer sooner than you had expected and you freeze in the middle of the busy Tokyo streets when a familiar shock of pink hair enters your line of sight. The boy’s back is turned to you and you tell yourself you’re being overdramatic. It’s Tokyo. People dye their hair all types of colors now. So what if someone else has pink hair?

But your heart tells you differently. It’s been over a decade since you’ve seen that little boy, but you swear it’s the same exact shade of pink you remember grabbing in your tiny hands back then. And before rationality can catch up to your soul, your body is already moving, drawing closer and closer to that broad back.

“Yuji?”

The name comes out softer than you intended and you wonder if he heard you. But then he’s turning and your throat begins to choke as a pair of familiar light brown eyes lock with yours. There are millions of people in Tokyo, hundreds swarming around the two of you as they make their way to the next destination. But at this moment, it’s only the two of you and before you know it he’s rushing towards you and you gasp at the feeling of a calloused thumb gently brushing your face.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s really you.”

You don’t even realize the tears streaming down your face that Yuji is desperately trying to wipe away. Oh, that’s why he looks so blurry right now and you give him a happy watery smile before flinging your arms around him, soul at peace when you feel him return the embrace.

He’s so different from the young boy you knew. Taller, bigger, stronger. And yet, despite the many years that have passed, you can’t help but feel like not much has really changed at all. It feels completely natural for him to lace his fingers with yours like he used to and you let him lead you to a nearby cafe where he prattles on and on about what he’s been up to since you last saw him.

It feels surreal, like a rose tinted dream, and you tightly clutch at his hand even when you’re seated across from each other, afraid that if you let go, he’ll disappear and you’ll wake up all alone again. Turns out he’s just as talkative as he used to be and you find comfort in the familiarity of his tone despite the fact that his voice is a few decibels lower.

His grandfather suddenly got so sick that they needed to send him to a hospital and with no other adults to take care of Yuji, he couldn’t go to the park and tell you what had happened. You only cry harder when Yuji becomes teary eyed himself when he tells you how he went to the park almost everyday when he was old enough to go himself in middle school, hoping to find you so he could explain what had happened all those years ago. And Yuji joins your watery breakdown when you tell him how you waited a month for him (eternity for a young child), how you sat alone and never played with anyone else because you were always hoping that he’d show up again.

When your drinks and food arrive, you sniffle and laugh, drying your eyes, one hand each still firmy locked in each other’s grasp on the table.

“No more crying. We’re going to make up for lost time.”

Your parents are stunned when you bring Yuji back home with you that day and there’s more crying when they find out what had happened and of Yuji’s grandfather’s death. But they’re quick to welcome back the boy in their little family and Yuji becomes a common sight in your household and at your dining table, joining your families for meals and birthdays, studying with you, watching anime and playing video games late into the night, helping your mom with cooking and your dad with chores around the house. And the confirmation that he’s part of the family is only solidified when your parents tell you that all four of you will be going to visit Yuji’s grandfather’s grave together to pay your respects.

There’s not a single dry eye as you all picnic and sit in front of the tombstone and Yuji gratefully accepts the forehead kisses and hugs your parents shower him with, never once letting your hand go as you chat to Itadori-san’s spirit. You give your parents some alone time, letting them talk at length to the old man they had grown so close to while Yuji and you had played.

The two of you reminisce on those carefree days, teasing each other about who can build a bigger sandcastle now. You giggle and ask him if he remembers promising to marry you, joking about how silly and innocent the two of you were then. And you turn to Yuji, expecting to see him laughing with you, but there’s not a hint of humor on his face as he resolutely stares at you, light brown eyes concentrated as they gaze at you.

“I still want to marry you.”

You gape at him, waiting for him to break character, laugh and make fun of your dumbfounded expression. But it never comes and instead he tentatively grabs your hands, holding them in his, thumbs brushing soothingly over your trembling knuckles.

You’ve never seen Yuji nervous before. You don’t think you even thought it was possible for him to be afraid of anything. But standing in front of you, light brown eyes uncharacteristically flitting about as he tries to find adequate words, he looks so vulnerable, so sincere, so genuine. And you wait with bated breath, hope fluttering in your chest.

“I like you, like really like you. I know I said that when we were kids, but it’s still true, just like it was true back then. We lost a decade together and I know we’re still making up for that lost time, but I can’t help but feel like what we have hasn’t changed a bit. If anything I like you even more now…”

He trails off and your chest feels like it’s about to burst in fondness when you watch him trail off, uncertainty and embarrassment obvious in the way he shifts from foot to foot, a pink flush gracing his cheeks.

“I like you too, Yuji. Like...really like you.”

You giggle at the pout he gives you at the teasing tone of your voice as you use his words against him. But then it’s your turn to shift your weight from side to side as you also try to wrap your tongue around the feelings Yuji’s stirred inside of you since your reunion.

“I think I know exactly what you mean. We aren’t little kids who only run around and play in sandboxes and playgrounds anymore. There’s a giant gap between then and now that we’re trying to bridge. But I feel like reuniting at this age and seeing how well and easily we connect even now only makes me like you even more. It’s like our souls have grown together in a way despite the distance, like we were always destined to be joined at the hips.”

You stifle a chuckle at the way Yuji perks up, looking all the world like an eager puppy who’s spotted their precious owner, anxious energy surrounding him as he waits on your next words.

“So I guess what I’m saying is TBD on marriage, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to try dating.”

Your sentence isn’t even fully complete before you watch in mortification and giddiness at how quickly Yuji drops to one knee, the picture perfect of a man about to propose (if it weren’t for both your high school uniforms making it very obvious that this isn’t a typical marriage proposal).

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

There’s only one answer and you simply utter a “yes” that turns into a squeal as Yuji practically lunges at you, sweeping you in his arms and twirling you around.

#jujutsu kaisen fluff #yuji x reader #yuji fluff #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #itadori yuji fluff #itadori yuji x reader

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Million Dollar Man | Chapter Five

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, handcuffs, thigh fucking, public sex, exhibitionism, edging, vibrators, dirty talk, dom spencer

word count: 4.6K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and Saturdays

Chapter Five | Masterlist

He’s ripped from a peaceful slumber by his work phone ringing on the night table. Y/N asleep on his chest, he tries to reach for it without waking her, successfully he answers with a groggy whisper, “hello?”

“Morning sleepy head?” Emily laughs, “it’s 10 am, Reid, why are you whispering?”

“I’m with my girlfriend, she’s still asleep,” he realizes he’s never told the team flat out that he was seeing someone, they all guessed but none of them had really asked.

“Oh,” Emily seems just as shocked that he said it. “We have a local case, I need you here for the geo profile and then you can go back to your mandated break.”

“I’ll be in, in 30,” he replies before hanging up.

“Can I come?” She whispers against him, obviously awake from all the commotion.

“Sure,” he shrugs, “if you don’t mind seeing and hearing about whatever horrific thing happened this time.”

“I don’t,” she sits up and stretches, “come on Mulder, we’ve got a case to crack.”

He laughs, “sure thing Scully.”

—

He’s nervous in the elevator on the way up to the BAU, Y/N on the other hand is so excited she’s practically vibrating. She’s dressed for the part, with her little visitor's badge and Spencer’s hand held tightly in her own, she basically drags him towards the bullpen when the doors open.

“Spence!” Luke calls for him, Tara and Matt turn around with big smiles to see him. “Who’s this?”

“Uh,” Spencer swallows sharply, “this is my girlfriend, Y/N this is Luke, Matt and Tara.”

She lets go of his hand to shake theirs, he watches as they all smile and introduce themselves to her, causing the rest of the team to notice the new person in the room and rush over. They have a lot of questions, they’re all very surprised she’s as young as he was when he started at the bureau and that he’s actually bringing her around.

When he finds out what’s going on, he’s really glad he brought her in. There’s been a few bomb threats in D.C, one of which is the building across from Y/N’s apartment. They’re trying to keep hysteria to a minimum, he knows he wouldn’t have been able to tell her if he didn’t bring her, he also knows he would have broken protocol to get her out of there.

She sits at his desk while he works, looking through all his things for a while before Spencer hears a familiar voice in the bullpen. Penelope was called in for backup, making eye contact with Y/N as soon as she walked in and cheering. “Oh! You’re here!”

Spencer leaves the briefing room, abandoning the geo-profile to introduce Penelope to the girl she helped him find, he runs down the stairs and wraps his arms around her.

“Spencer,” she relaxes into his embrace and holds him close, “I’ve missed you so much.”

When Spencer pulls away, the smile on his face is remarkable, “Penelope, this is Y/N,” he says her name and Penelope automatically knows who she is.

He told her right after he bought her whole Wishlist, Penelope has known about her the longest and yet she’s never been able to meet her. She turns to Y/N with a smile, “are you a hugger?”

Y/N stands and wraps her arms around her, “I think I owe you a very big thank you,” she whispers in Penelope’s ear.

“For what?”

“Teaching grandpa over here how to use the internet,” she teases him, “and for your helpful tips, he was the nicest one I met on there.”

“You’re very welcome,” Penelope pulls back with another smile, holding Y/N’s face in her hands, “and thank you.”

Y/N pulls her into another hug and now everyone is watching, Spencer knows he’s going to be bombarded with questions eventually but for now, Y/N is going with Penelope to her office and Spencer has a map to look at while he stresses himself out.

Matt, Tara and Emily head to the scene to join JJ, Rossi and Will, leaving Luke with Spencer in the briefing room.

“Can I ask?”

Spencer nods, “go ahead.”

“How did you meet her? Was she one of your students?”

He doesn’t know how to answer, not because he’s ashamed of it or of her, rather because he doesn’t know if she’ll want people to really know. “Penelope helped me get online to meet people, I made an account on a sugar daddy website thinking it would be easier to pay someone who doesn’t know me to hang out rather than try and make a new friend.”

“That’s smart,” Luke nods along as he listens. “She seems really cool.”

“She’s the best,” he smiles. “She’s really smart and talented, she’s an author actually, her books coming out in January.”

“I’ll have to get a copy,” Luke smiles right back.

“Her publisher and I have actually planned a big birthday party slash final draft party, if you and the team want to come and have drinks and get to know her more, that would be really nice,” Spencer offers, knowing it’s about time they all celebrated something together.

“I’d love to come, and I’ll bring Penelope,” Luke’s just as excited as he is.

“I’m a little surprised you didn’t know already, being with Penelope and everything?”

He shrugs, “we don’t talk about work or really gossip about the team now that she’s not working here, it makes her a little sad that she left but she’s doing a lot better just coming in occasionally.”

“I didn’t think I’d like my months off at first, either, but now I’m also debating leaving,” he knows it's a lie. He’s already written his letter of recognition, he’s just waiting for the go-ahead from Y/N that they’re moving to California.

“16 years is a really long time to be doing this job,” he agrees, “I’m sure if you wanted to leave the bureau would offer you your full retirement package early, given everything you’ve been through for this country.”

Spencer nods, “don’t let this job take your spark, you’re very wonderful, Luke, and I’d hate to see you lose it for the greater good.”

“My greater good is just down the hall,” he smirks, “I make the world a better place for the woman I love, she’s the reason I get up every day and come to work because I can’t wait to get home to her safely.”

Luke has always loved Penelope, it’s been very obvious, and yet she didn’t want really anything to do with him until Derek advised her to be nice. She was so busy thinking about all her other babies leaving the nest after Derek that she didn’t take the time to consider bringing in Luke to the nest for warmth and love as well.

“When are you asking her to marry you?”

Luke turns bashful, a slight blush on his cheeks as he stares at the table, “Christmas, it’s her favourite time of the year.”

“Have you talked to Derek?” Spencer only worries slightly, after what happened with Kevin he doesn’t want to see it happen to Luke.

“Nope, I’ve talked to her brothers though, we’re going to California again this year for Christmas and they all said they’d love to have me in the family,” Luke smiles, “the Garcias are my favourite.”

Spencer isn’t normally a hugger but he walks around the table and wraps Luke up, “I’m asking Y/N in a week.”

“No way?”

He nods, “she’s the greatest good I’m ever going to get.”

“Amen, brother.”

—

Penelope’s job was incredible, she was in awe as she watched her tap away at her keyboard and answer a million and one questions. She reminded her of Ned from Kim Possible and she knew if she said that to anyone she’d give away just how young she is.

She’s gotten a lot of looks, she knows people are talking about it and yet she doesn’t really care. There isn’t any malice behind the stares and the whispers, they all seem genuinely surprised that Spencer has a girlfriend over the fact she’s in her 20’s.

There’s a single dull moment and she turns to Y/N, “can I please have the juicy details, please,” she begs and it makes her feel giddy.

She’s never really had any girlfriends like this, and she certainly didn’t have anyone to tell about Spencer. “He’s the love of my life, I’m completely serious.”

Penelope squealed, “that’s all I’ve ever wanted for him, ugh this is so exciting! Are you guys serious? How long has it been?”

She nods, “not long, uh he got me this necklace a week or two ago and we’ve been moving pretty slow for his sake. In the last 10 months he’s become my bestie and I’ve convinced him to move in and he sleeps in my bed now and I love waking up beside him… he’s a real gentleman.”

“That’s good, he’s never been able to take the scenic route in life… I know you’re only here cause he trusts you and if he trusts you that means you know everything and if you know ever—“

“Yeah,” she cuts her off, “I know about all of it and everyone who’s hurt him and how he’s hurt himself but what’s more important is that it doesn’t phase me, he’s just a person trying to deal with the life he’s been given, we all are.”

Penelope wraps her up in a gentle hug, “he’s always needed someone like you.”

It makes her heartbreak just a tiny bit thinking about how as long he didn’t have anyone. Sure, he was surrounded by his friends at work and loved enough that they all brought him back home but he was never cared for the way she would have done it. There’s a weird maternal instinct that comes over her with Spencer and she knows exactly why, all she knows is she wants to love him and care for him for the rest of his life.

If she lives to be 100, she hopes he lives to be 116, because there isn’t a day she wants to spend on this earth where Spencer Reid isn’t alive and beside her.

She’s not going to cry in Penelope’s arms after just meeting her so she pulls back with a smile, “but what kind of juicy details are we talking? Cause I can’t embarrass him too bad…”

Penelope’s laugh is evil as she rubs her hands together, “a little birdie whose name rhymes with shmerek said he knows how to use that mouth for more than just talking…”

It makes her laugh almost a little too hard and she starts to feel her face heat up, she simply nods, “yeah, we haven’t gone all the way but from what’s happened so far, I can agree.”

Penelope turns in her rolling chair and laughs, “ugh that’s so great, I’m glad you’re having a good time— I mean I always thought Spencer would be good in bed after all the chats we’ve had about kinks and shit, he’s really educated, obviously, but I always knew that it would translate from paper to real-life very easily.”

“Oh totally,” she nods feverishly, “we talked about that before actually, virginity is simply a construct used to control women and make them feel pure or dirty, to feel like they can take something from a woman and yet virgins are so sexual and in tune with their needs and wants that they typically are good or at least know what to do from whatever porn they’ve consumed when it comes down to it. How the more in tune with someone's sexuality that they are the better they are in bed because they apply what they want to their partner and almost get off more on the fact someone is enjoying them than the fact they’re being pleasured.”

Penelope shakes her head with a loving smile, “you listen when he talks, you love every part of him and you’re beautiful… he really hit the jackpot.”

She brushes it off with a laugh, “I got pretty lucky with him too.”

Her phone rings before she can agree, answering with a cheerful tone, Spencer is on the other end, “do you have my beautiful girlfriend with you still?”

“Present,” she answers for herself, “are you still here, dad-Spence?”

She bites her lip and closes her eyes, fuck.

“Yeah, uh, I am, we think we got the actual building with the bomb, they’ve sent the team down there to clear it and check it out.”

“I’ll head back to the bullpen, then,” she stands and heads to the door, not wanting to face Penelope after almost calling him daddy right in front of her.

“Hey,” she calls to Y/N, “don’t be embarrassed. I get it, believe me, I’ve answered some calls in here with the dirtiest remarks to the completely wrong people. But, I’ll see you later?”

She smiles, “yeah, I’d love to see you again.”

In the bullpen, Spencer’s by his desk all alone. His teams cleared out and now it was just the office staff wandering around. She wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his back, “ready to go home?”

“Uh, not yet…” he turns to look at her, “I don’t want to bring you back to D.C unless the case is closed.” He looks nervous and she understands it perfectly.

“Okie Dokie, she smiles, leaning in for a hug to get close to his ear, “can we fuck in a storage closet to pass the time?”

He laughs but he takes her hand and he pretends to take her on a tour, he leads her down the hall and towards the filing room where he knows no one will be. “No one has really used this room in ages, since we went digital, and Penelope had all this stuff put online anyway.”

“So you can bend me over that table and rail me next time we come back?”

“Or?” She hears his playful tone and smirks to herself, letting him manhandle her hands behind her back as he bends her over a table, “I could fuck these big beautiful thighs of yours?”

“So only you can get off? Please,” She scoffs at him, wanting to piss him off to see where it gets her, wiggling her ass back against him as she does so.

He unbuttons her pants and drags them down her legs to leave her in just her thong, taking a handful of her ass and squeezing before laying a hard slap against her, she gasps at the feeling but also at the fact it was so loud.

“They’re going to hear you?!” She whispers with a disappointed tone.

“Isn’t that what you said you wanted? You wanted everyone to know only daddy can take care of you?” He uses her own words against her and she whines. “That’s what I thought.”

“No, but seriously,” she turns her head to look at him, “check my pocket.”

He does exactly that, finding one of her little bullet vibes in the front pocket of her jeans, “you planned this?”

“I knew we’d be having some kind of sex somewhere in this building,” she smirks. “Also my safe word is red but keep going.”

“Alrighty, then,” she can hear the smirk on his face as he thinks it over.

He takes his handcuffs out of his back pocket and cuffs her, “you know, it’s public indecency looking like this in here, technically it’s a federal offence and it’s my duty as a federal officer to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She swallows sharply, pushing back against his groin and gasping when her bare asscheek meets the cold metal of his gun in his holster. Sometimes she forgot he was a real FBI agent, sometimes it didn’t feel real to her because he was just her nerdy boyfriend and he never had any of his "cop props" with him… suddenly they weren’t just accessories to her anymore, he was actually a cop who just bent her over a table and cuffed her and now he’s going to fuck her "big beautiful thighs" as he called them.

“What’s the sentence, agent?” She plays along because damn he’s hot like this.

He presses his chest to her back as he leans in close to her ear, “It’s doctor, and you know that.”

He turns on the vibrator and rests it inside her underwear, right against her clit at the lowest setting, her thighs twitch at the feeling and all she wishes is that she had something to hold on to.

She whines again when she hears his belt buckle dangle and his zipper open, he grips his cock at the base and drags the head between her cheeks before slipping between her things with a sigh, “and it’s taking my time, you’re just going to have to, rather impatiently, deal with it.”

“Yes, doctor,” she closes her eyes and waits for the feeling of his cock between her legs but he doesn’t push in.

He places his feet on either side of hers so that she can't open her legs any further and finally, finally breaches her thighs. He groans at the drag of his cock against her skin as the vibrations from her panties continue to make her legs quake. She lets out a shaky breath and reaches for his shirt as he presses against her once more. Grabbing his tie instead, she pulls on it and he gasps for air.

“Sorry,” she mumbles with a smirk, not sorry at all for slightly choking him as she continues to hold his tie.

He swats her hands away from his tie and grips the cuffs to separate her hands, pushing them further up her back until it’s almost uncomfortable. The most uncomfortable thing about this was the fact he wasn’t inside of her, she felt so empty as she clenched around nothing. The stimulation on her clit was nice, the feeling of him taking her from behind is ungodly and yet he’s not in her. It’s the worst punishment in the whole world.

It was nowhere near enough to get her off and he knew that she wanted so much more that she wasn’t going to get, whining as he kept his thrusts at the same slow pace. It was agonizing, she squeezed her legs together more to tease him but he ended up liking it. There was nothing she could do for more, she was just going to have to let him take her, and that thought was what brought her closer.

“Please?” She begged, sounding just as desperate as she thought she would and not giving a single fuck.

“Please what?” He snaps his hips against her just a bit harder with each thrust.

She gasps again before biting her lip to hold back a moan, “finish in my mouth?” She begs once more, “please?”

He pulls off of her and yanks her off the table, turning her around, she drops to her knees without being told and opens her mouth immediately. He grips her by her hair and guides her towards his cock, slipping it past her lips and right down her throat.

He groans at the feeling, she closes her eyes for a moment to enjoy the feeling of his heavy cock in her mouth. Taking him more forcefully than ever before, he’s too caught up in the moment to realize he might be a little too rough but she also doesn’t mind. Breathing through her nose to stay calm she takes him as far as she can, pressing her nose to his pubes he can feel how hot her breath is as she struggles to breathe.

“Such a good girl,” he pulls her off so she can breathe for a moment, “you want my cum so bad don’t you?”

“Yes please, daddy,” she replies with a rasp in her voice that makes it obvious where he’s been.

She takes him in her mouth once more, sucking earnestly to get him closer and closer to the edge. He’s whining, pulling her hair and doing everything in his power not to thrust against her face, even though she’s okay with it.

She knows when he’s close because his cock always twitches in the same spot, it’s a tell-tale sign that he’s going to cum in a second. She applies more suction, running her tongue along the underside before taking him all the way once more just in time for him to cum right down her throat with each swallow.

He’s not quiet, anyone walking past the door will hear him panting and gasping, muttering good girl under his breath, he’s more fucked out by this blow job than she’s ever made him before. She can’t help but smirk as he pulls away and leaves her there on her knees, covered in spit and drool and unable to wipe her own mouth due to the fact she’s still fucking handcuffed.

She rests against his shoe, pressing the vibrator against her clit a little more, she twitches at how good it feels but it’s still not enough to get her off, and a part of her doesn’t want to.

He pulls her up to her feet and sits her down on the table he was just pretending to fuck her against. He attempts to spread her legs and get between them but she stops him, “leave the vibe where it is and let’s just go home?”

“You want to walk out of this building with a vibrator in your panties, and say goodbye to my co-workers and friends knowing you could cum anytime?”

She smirks, “yes, but I won't cum cause this pathetic toy isn’t as good at you.”

He clicks the button to turn it up a speed and she gasps, pushing against the feeling and moaning into it, “I’d like to see you try that.”

—

He takes her on the rest of the “tour” with that vibrator in her panties, she’s getting more and more flustered the more they look around. Eventually, he shows her the library, getting her alone in the back corner where he can talk to her without the risk of people knowing what’s going on.

“I can’t,” she whines as he presses her against the shelves, “please?”

“Please what?”

“Turn it off, daddy, I can’t take it anymore,” she grips his suit jacket tightly as she looks up at him with the eyes he can’t say no to.

“Mmm,” he hums, reaching into her pants to free her from the stimulation, she relaxes finally. “What do you think you deserve now?”

“Don’t wanna cum till we’re at home,” she whispers, “but you’ll have to make it quick because we have a flight to catch at 8.”

“Fuck,” he whispers like he forgot. “I hope we can get back into the apartment in time.”

“Why?”

“The bomb was in the basement of the building beside yours,” he admits and the whole facade fades, “that’s why I’m not taking you home yet.”

“That’s why you wanted to fuck me,” she whispers with a giggle. “You could have at least told me this was a ‘you almost died’ rush for you.”

“I didn’t want to say it like that,” he admits and a depression washes through his blood, he feels the low settle as he drops, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she takes his face in her hands and makes him look her in the eyes, “I love you, I’m glad we’re both safe. Everything in there is replaceable, you and me aren’t. This is a really good thing, Spencer.”

He nods, doing what she’s told him so many times she wants him to do, telling her his thoughts so that he’s no longer haunted alone, “when I told my friend Derek about you, he said dating a younger woman means I’ll never have to worry about you dying of old age before me. That’s one of his fears being the same age as Savannah, but I’ve lost so many people I never even thought about getting old with you I’ve just wanted to keep this version of you safe and with me forever.”

“Penelope said she always wished you’d find someone like me, and my only thought was If I live to be 100, I hope you live to be 116 because there isn’t a day I want to spend on this earth where Spencer Reid isn’t alive and beside me,” he whispers with a smile, “but now I’m thinking if you live to be 100, I don’t want to go past 84.”

“You can’t say that,” he whispers, tears bubbling in his eyes, “what if I die tomorrow? I need to know you’re going to be fine and not end your wonderful existence because I’m not here anymore. You’re too wonderful to put all your worth on me.”

She doesn’t want to cry, she already looks like she’s been fucked and now she’s a mess, she pulls him into a kiss so he’ll stop talking and they can just be together, it was hard enough for her thinking he was going to die eventually, let alone him hypothesizing dying tomorrow.

She rests her forehead against his, “we always do this.”

“What?”

“It’s like orgasms open the emotions or something,” she snuffles which turns into a laugh, “do you think our kids are going to find it weird that you’re so much older than me?”

Everything takes him for a loop, “uh,” he struggles to find the words, pulling back and looking at her as her face drops, “I um—

“You don’t want kids anymore?” She looks genuinely saddened and he doesn’t know how to answer.

“I do,” he nods, “just—“

“Not with me?” She puts the words in his mouth.

“With you, just not yet,” he holds her by the shoulders, “I need more time with you before we have a kid, I need to love life and be in a good place and somewhere where I can focus all my attention on them, and I can’t yet.”

“I want a baby by 30,” she whispers before pressing her lips together awkwardly, “46 isn’t too old to be a dad, I’ve seen men become fathers at 80.”

He laughs as the anxiety leaves him, “a little California surfer baby wouldn’t be too bad.”

“Well, we fuck like rabbits, we might get there sooner than you planned,” she nudges him, “you’re a wonderful boyfriend, and if you don’t mind, I’d like for you to stay my boyfriend for a little longer? I’m not ready to be a wife or a mom and change my name when I just got it put on a published book.”

“I’ll change mine to yours,” he replies like it's nothing, “or keep yours and we’ll hyphenate the kid's names.”

“It’s plural now?” She teases him once more.

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you,” he assures her, “forever.”

“You’d pluck a star from the sky for me wouldn’t you, Doctor Y/L/N?”

He laughs at how it sounds but he kinda likes it. Her word choice is even funnier to him, however, because he’s actually gone out of his way to pluck a star for her. She has no idea, but her last present is a big one.

She struggled to get her own name on a book for so long, now there’s a star named after her, in the sky for everyone to see for the rest of time.

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Sugar daddy fic

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#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #mdm

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midgardianweasley · 3 years

Text

The Wedding Series

It took me a while, but, i’ve finallyyy got part 2 of the series up<33

Ring her up

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: with an ever growing feeling of love for her girlfriend, Y/N wants to take the next step, but, like every plan, she needs to carry out step number one.

Word Count: 2k

Message/ask if you want to join the taglist!

Part one | Part two

It had been four years since the day you and Natasha had started dating, four wonderful years. The team hadn’t let either of you forget about the night you both got together, how they all saw it coming and how they couldn’t believe you both hadn’t seen it sooner. Looking back, you weren’t so sure yourself, but you liked the story of how you became girlfriends, even if it was something straight out of a rom-com.

Over the course of four years, it only made you more and more certain that she was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Unlike the story that brought you both together, this wasn’t a big moment of realisation. It was in the little things. It was in the way she protected and cared for you. In the way she had always been the one to wipe your tears and in the way she’d laugh with you in the rain when you were happy.

The two of you had discussed many things over the years, now having moved out into your own apartment together, you were beginning to take big steps in your relationship so some conversations had arisen in the process. Marriage being one of them.

__________________________

You were both sitting in your living room, snuggled up together on the sofa, a blanket draped over the two of you as you watched ‘Friends’, though you weren’t really watching it.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer.” She whispered, not looking at you but with a knowing smirk on her face.

“Why would I when I have the real thing right in front of me?”

“Touché”

You briefly returned your attention back to the screen in front of you, watching a scene unfold where the main characters are running in and out of a wedding chapel in Vegas. Seeing them had sparked a thought in your head as you looked up adoringly at your girlfriend, never breaking your eyes away, even when she grabbed the remote and paused your programme to give you her full attention.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Who says something has to be up? Maybe I just want to appreciate how pretty you are.” You gave her puppy eyes, but she knew better than to fall for that.

“I can practically feel the cogs turning in that head of yours. C’mon, you can tell me Detka.”

You quickly glanced between the television screen and her eyes, taking note of the curiosity lingering in her eyes, alongside some concern which made you admit defeat.

“I was just thinking, y’know, about us.”

“Right, is something wrong?” She took your hands in hers, the pad of her thumb gently stroking the back of them, silently encouraging you to continue.

“No! No, not at all. It was just watching this, it got me thinking, what are your thoughts on getting married?” She opened her mouth to speak, but you quickly cut her off before she could get a word out. “I don’t necessarily mean to me! Just generally! Well, it would be nice if it was me, but I don’t want to put any-”

“Babe, slow down, breathe.” She chuckled while you caught your breath, only continuing once you’d calmed yourself down from your ramble.

“First of all, I like the thought of getting married, I could see myself doing it. But, in terms of who I would marry, it would be you.”

“Really? You’re serious?”

“I’m serious. You’re it for me. There isn’t anyone else.”

You didn’t know why tears appeared in your eyes, it was a perfect answer, an answer most people dreamed of getting. Nonetheless, they built up, completely blurring your vision, even as they fell. Natasha was quick to wipe them away as they did, and despite you not being able to see much, it was near impossible to miss the love she held in her eyes as she looked at you.

“I love you.” You mumbled, placing your hand over the one that she held on your cheek.

“I love you more.” She placed her forehead against yours, eyes closed as she enjoyed the intimacy, you doing so too.

“Never.”

“Always.” She whispered before meeting your lips with a gentle, loving kiss.

That conversation was your most recent, it will have been months ago now. As time went on, the feeling inside of you only grew, and you became more certain with every moment shared between you both, that you want to marry this woman. You want to marry Natasha Romanoff.

_______________________

You didn’t know where to begin, so you did what first came to mind.

You called your best friend. Thankfully, Nat was currently out with Steve, picking up after him again. Though you’d usually be moody at the fact that she had to leave, this time you couldn’t help but try to encourage her to go, spiking her curiosity at your actions, but still leaving nonetheless, giving you the perfect opportunity to call and ask for help.

“Wanda, Wanda, help.” You immediately rambled as soon as she picked up the phone.

“Y/N? Everything okay?”

“Yes. Well, kinda, no, yes?”

“Right, thank you for clearing that up.” She let out a hearty laugh over the phone

“I want to propose.”

“To Natasha?”

“Who else?”

“I just wanted to clarify!” She exclaimed, a hint of defense in her tone.

Silence fell upon the phone call,

“Oh my- You want to marry Natasha.”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“We need to start making plans! What dress would you like? Ooh where should the venue be? I heard-”

“Wan’, is that not a bit too soon? I don’t even have an idea for a proposal or a ring or anything.”

One sound. One sound was all it took for you to know that you had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into as Wanda gasped, quickly hanging up before you could even ask what was wrong.

Taking a look at your phone, you saw an unread text from Wanda, sent only seconds ago.

Wan<3 ‘Get your shoes on, I’ll be over in 10. We’re going out.’ Delivered.

At least now you know where to start.

Okay, you’re still not sure, but at least someone does. ______________________________

It wasn’t long before Wanda had arrived at your house, dragged you outside and was now pulling you along beside her as she ran around like a hyper Golden Retriever, leading you in and out of different shops, all of which had one thing in common. They sold engagement rings.

You could’ve facepalmed the minute you realised the pattern, how did an engagement ring not occur to you in the first place? You decided not to dwell on it, you’d just kick yourself later on when you’re alone to save any embarrassment.

You hadn’t realised you’d zoned out until you felt a tug on your wrist, looking up to see the culprit, a huge grin on her face as she pointed to the shop in front of the two of you. It was so..shiny. There were silver necklaces, rings, bracelets, and watches. They all looked so pretty, how were you going to decide?

“Come on! We need to go in and have a look! I have a good feeling about this one!” She squealed, even though you could’ve sworn she said that the last two times. Either way, you flashed her a quick smile, nodding and walking in. If you had to search all day for the perfect ring, so be it. It’s what Natasha deserves.

There were rows upon rows of different rings, there must’ve been hundreds, if not thousands in the brightly lit room, allowing each and every one to have a sparkle. You smiled gently at each one, imagining how they would look on your girlfriend’s hand. How it would feel for her title to go from ‘girlfriend’ to ‘Fiancé’, relying on the hope that she says yes.

A couple of minutes went by before something caught your attention. Turning your head to the left, you see one particular ring standing out to you like a beautiful, shiny sore thumb. Walking closer to inspect it, you manage to take in some more of its finer details.

It was a simple silver band, just like the majority of the others, however, while they had simple diamonds, this one had a ruby instead, the red complementing the silver perfectly. One look at it, and you were strong in your opinion that Natasha would love it.

You soon felt a presence behind you, recognising it immediately as the one who had brought you out here in the first place.

“Are you looking at the red one?” You whipped your head round.

“How did you know?”

“Because you look like you’ve decided to fall in love with that ring instead.” She raised her eyebrows, taking great enjoyment in watching you look around and get excited with almost every ring you see as you think about how it would feel if Natasha was to say ‘yes’. In all honesty, a part of you was a little scared, nervous. Marriage is a big step, and while she had said she would want to, you don’t want to get the timing wrong. You want it all to be perfect, and you would do your damn best to make it so. She was your forever, and you refused to let that slip through your fingers.

Before you could even blink, Wanda had asked the saleswoman if they could have it brought out of it’s viewing unit so that you could take a closer look, which she responded with a kind smile before unlocking the case and holding the ring out to you, exposing all of it’s edges and how it glistens differently in every light, a faint red glow appearing every so often.

This was the one.

“Could I buy this one, please?” You asked the lady who appeared to be nothing but friendly.

“Of course, let me just ring that up for you and I'll get it boxed up.” You had to hold back a small giggle at her choice of words. Immature, you know, but you didn’t overly care, feeling too over the moon at taking the first step towards marriage with the love of your life.

Wanda gave you a pearly white smile, clapping her hands in joy at how the trip has turned out, watching you now hold the small box in your hand. You didn’t blame her, this has been a success. You can’t wait.

___________________________

“Babe! I’m home!” You called, shutting the front door behind you and kicking your shoes off, the ring safely held in its box, which was settled in your back pocket.

“Hi love” Natasha walked over, placing a sweet kiss on your lips before pulling away and brushing some loose strands of hair behind your ear, a gesture you had always adored. “How was your day? I heard you went out with Wanda?”

Of course she did! Luckily, she’s not the only spy around who could think quick on her feet.

“Yeah, we went for some lunch and just had a girls day. I think she needed to get out of the compound for a bit, too much ‘boy’ energy.” You shrugged, a smile playing on your lips as you watched hers curl upwards in agreement.

“I don’t blame her, poor girl. We’ve totally abandoned her with the males.”

“Would you like to go back and stay there?”

“Absolutely not, I’m quite happy where I am, thank you.” She raised her eyebrows in a playful manner before gesturing to the TV. “Do you wanna watch some ‘Friends’?”

“Yes! I’ll just change into some comfier clothes, jeans are not the one today.” You happily agreed, quickly giving her a peck on the cheek before scurrying off to the bedroom, hoping she didn’t notice the odd shape of your pocket.

You made it into the bedroom, getting some pj’s out of your wardrobe and looking for a place to hide the ring. You were going to just put it into your bedside table, but you knew Natasha often snuck in there to steal some of your favourite moisturiser. Not as subtle as she thinks.

You settled on hiding it on the top shelf of your wardrobe, behind some storage boxes and rucksacks neither of you used, hoping it would be well hidden there.

Now all you had to do now, was wait.

Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @wandaromanova @wvnda-maximoff

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x avenger!reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff wedding #natasha romanova #marvel #mcu #marvel fic

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untaemedqueen · 3 years

Text

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 17.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Angst, Excessive Cursing, Fluff, Lactation Kink, Degradation (Cock Slut, Slut, Whore), Daddy Kink, Reverse Cowgirl, Possessive!Yoongi, Doggy Style, Praise, Controlled Orgasms, Begging, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Cream Pie, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Pun

A/N: A huge gigantic and hearty thank you to my girls as always @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna. I really wouldn’t get chapters done without them.

Days have bled into weeks. The large guest house has been lived in for far too long, or so you think.

It might just be the August heat getting to you, but you've started to hate the guest house.

"Where's my little dove?" Yoongi asks, taking his suit jacket off.

You know for a fact that the CEO is adoring this. He loves being able to be holed up in here with you and his child. He loves that no one bothers with you both, you're both able to carry on like normal people. But your hormones are making you go stir crazy.

When Yoongi smiles at you with his perfect teeth, you can feel your annoyance dissipating in the slightest.

He then frowns when you give him a half assed smile. "What's wrong? Who am I firing?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you.

Your five month belly presses into his stomach, and his eyes flutter shut gratefully.

"I'm sick of being in this fucking house." you grumble into his neck as he holds you tightly.

He sighs gently, he's been waiting for you to speak your mind. He's seen how annoyed you've been lately. He notices everything about you.

"I know, little dove. I'm sorry." he apologizes, rubbing your belly and planting a gentle kiss to your temple.

"I want to go and set up the nursery! I want to paint! I want to be able to go somewhere else besides this stupid gated community!" you complain, running your hand under your growing bump and situating it there.

Your boyfriend sighs, nodding. "I know you do, baby. I'm working hard to make that happen. I'm sorry it's not going fast enough for you and Sesame." he says, tilting your chin to look up at him.

"What if I eat your pussy? Will that make you feel better?" he suggests softly.

"No! It won't make me feel better! Because I'll be laying on the same bed I've been laying on for months, that isn't my own bed." you insist with a whine.

"Mommy's angry," he quips to your stomach, walking around the bar and pouring himself a glass of whisky.

You groan loudly, squeezing your fists out of irritation.

"If I have to look at another cat of nine tails or a flogger situated artistically on the wall, I'm going to blow up this house!" you threaten, pressing your hand to your side as your baby kicks inside of you.

The CEO chuckles above the lip of his glass, eyes softening at how you lean against the marble bar.

"You okay, little dove?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, the baby keeps kicking because they hate it in here as much as I do!" you whine.

Yoongi laughs gently, bringing the whisky glass to his lips. "I know. I'm working hard to make sure Myeyoung has enough in her account to cushion her fall when I file for the divorce." he promises.

You roll your eyes, huffing out loudly as you lean against the bar.

"You look pretty, practically glowing with my heir inside you," he offers.

You pout up at your boyfriend, the overwhelming urge to cry coursing through your body.

"It's just your hormones, baby. I know." he whispers, rounding the bar and pulling you into his arms.

"I just want to lay in my own bed, go in my own art studio, go in the nursery!" you sob, burying your face into his white dress shirt.

He coos gently, running his hand over your upper back comfortably. "I know, little dove, I kn-"

There's a knock at the guest house door, that draws both of your attention.

"Sir?!" the voice belongs to Maya and she sounds absolutely nervous.

"What's wrong?" he calls back, watching as she opens the door.

"Your grandmother is here." she announces, her hands fidgeting nervously with her tight bun.

"Oh fuck!" he curses loudly, grabbing the glass of whisky and downing it all in one gulp.

His hands cup your face, pulling you to look up at him. "I know your hormones are raging right now, I know you're uncomfortable here in the guest house. But, I need you to meet my grandmother. Okay?" he asks nervously, wiping his thumbs over your tear stained cheeks.

"But… I… Fine," you breathe out.

"Thank you, little dove. Thank you! Just be yourself. You're going to do fine!" he insists, grabbing his suit jacket and shrugging it on quickly.

You can tell how frightened he is and you need to pull it together. From what you heard about his grandmother from him, she's always given second hand doting. Meaning that she has always told him how loved he is without showing him any actual caring or affection. It just seems like he's never been loved in his life besides Maya.

From what you know Min Seyoung is a sharp, smart woman with a tongue as quick as a whip.

Turning to the mirror, you smooth out your summer dress, tilting your head at the reasonably large bump that protrudes.

"This is going to be… eventful." he hisses, pulling your hand.

At least you won't have to be in the guest house for now.

The mansion is a sight for sore eyes. Of course, you've seen it on your daily walks. You've entered it when Jin and Sera weren't home but you haven't lived in it in what feels like forever.

You're grateful when Jisoo hands you a strawberry sparkling water, knocking the summer heat straight out of your bones.

"Where is she?" Yoongi inquires, tucking his dress shirt into his pants.

"In your office." Mays says, handing him a glass of whisky quickly.

"Thank you. Come on, little dove. My grandmother doesn't like to be kept waiting." he rushes you.

You've honestly forgotten what nervousness feels like these past few months. You haven't had to worry about a damn thing, but now with Yoongi tapping his fingers to his thighs rhythmically, you remember it all too well.

Each step up the marble stairs sends your body flitting and coursing with nerves. The way he runs his fingers through his hair, the way he sips his whisky is something far beyond what you've ever seen. His back muscles are tense through his suit jacket, the base of his hairline already sweating and you know it's not from the heat outside.

Standing in front of the office door, you swallow thickly as Yoongi takes a deep breath. His hand lingers on the doorknob for a second before he's shoving it open.

"Grandmother," he announces curtly.

The woman is older, her skin practically wrinkle free. There are a few frown lines by her mouth but other than that her skin is smooth. When she looks at her grandson, her eyes soften just the slightest degree but nothing else changes. She doesn't smile. She doesn't even acknowledge your presence.

"I haven't seen you in five months," she huffs.

Her voice is that of irritation and disbelief.

"I've been busy. This is Y/N." Yoongi says, pressing his hand to your lower back comfortingly.

Her eyes zone in on you in a second, fingernails tapping incessantly to the desk beneath them. As she looks you over you can feel yourself becoming smaller, wanting to hide anywhere.

"Yes. Your grandfather told me all about Y/N. Sit." she instructs.

Yoongi nods a fraction, pulling your chair out for you. Your knees shake as you sit, a gentle hand placing on your stomach feeling your child kick inside of you.

"She's pretty," his grandmother surmises.

"Yes, she is." the CEO agrees with a gentle smirk.

You look down at your lap, feeling awkward and confused.

"Maya tells me that you live here still, but both of your beds haven't been slept in for a long time. Where have you gone?" she inquires.

Well she's not shy in the least.

"To the guest house, we've been staying there." Yoongi answers honestly, sipping his whisky.

"Why? Are you not pleased with Sera? You've gotten some random poor girl pregnant and just forgotten all about her?" she goads.

You cringe at the sharpness of her voice, holding your stomach tighter. When Yoongi notices, he doesn't take kindly to how uncomfortable you are.

"She's not some poor girl, she's my girlfriend. And I haven't been pleased with Sera since the day I married that leech."

His grandmother scoffs loudly. "Your girlfriend? Are you twelve? You need a girlfriend? What's suddenly changed in your dynamic?"

"I fell in love." Yoongi replies quickly.

You take sharp breath through your nose, you've never spoken those words to each other yet.

"Oh please," his grandmother mumbles, rolling her eyes.

"Grandmother, I'm sorry but I don't know what you're doing here." your boyfriend says, folding his arms.

"When you never even notified us that an article came out about you, that was evidence enough that your girlfriend has warped your mind. What is it exactly that you think you're going to do? Divorce Sera? Live happily ever after with Y/N in this mansion?"

"Yes in fact! I do think that! I deserve it!" Yoongi cries out, gripping tighter onto his glass.

You do not want to be here. You can barely contain the squeak that tries to leave your lips as his grandmother slams her hand down on the desk.

"We have given you what you deserved! And you're throwing it away!" she retorts, narrowing her eyes at you. "Anything to say?!"

"Don't speak to her like that! She isn't someone that you can think so lowly of! She's pregnant with my baby! My heir! She's the love of my life!" Yoongi yells, slamming his glass down onto the desk.

When you look over at him, you can see the neck veins jutting out of his skin. His face is pink with anger and you cower at how furious he is.

"If you think for one second we're going to accept that baby, you've lost your min-"

"You have no choice! Sera is sterile! She isn't able to have kids! And I don't want anything to do with that leech cunt! I have everything I want!"

That news drops like a bomb. You had no idea. Your eyes flutter shut, hearing your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

"If that is true, you should leave the Min legacy to your other family. Not some poor-"

"I SAID STOP CALLING HER THAT!" Yoongi bellows, kicking his chair out from beneath him as he stands.

His grandmother leans back in her chair, her lips pursing while her eyes narrow.

"I have already drawn up divorce papers! I will file them! I will kick Sera out on her money grubbing ass! Y/N, is not leaving my side for a fucking second! She's my family! Unlike everyone else that's been around me since my childhood! She's not going anywhere!" he says, downing the rest of his whisky and slamming the glass back down onto the desk.

"Then you will lose your position as CEO," his grandmother says simply.

You open your mouth to refuse but Yoongi speaks first.

"You can try it. You can take it to the shareholders and request it but they know since I've been put in charge that our sales have gone up forty five percent. They know that I was able to pay them hundreds of thousands of dollars more for their holiday bonuses than any of the CEOs before me. They know that I get shit done. You wanted an heir and you fucking got one. Now you're not happy?! You're a hypocrite!" he scoffs, running his fingers through his hair.

"Little dove, go wait for me downstairs," he whispers, cupping your cheek.

"Stay where you are," his grandmother instructs and you're caught between the both of them.

Yoongi rounds your chair, pressing his hand to your growing belly. "There is no one in the world that is going to take my fucking family away from me. My baby, my heir -- means the world to me. This woman, this beautiful woman sitting in this chair -- has brought me more peace than should be allowed in one man's life. There is nothing you can do to me that will make me change my fucking mind." he seethes through his teeth.

His grandmother hums inquisitively, tapping her fingernails to the desk once more. "So what do you plan to do then?"

He starts to cool down, his boiling blood beginning to soothe. "I'm going to divorce Sera."

"When?" his grandmother prompts, putting her manicured hand beneath her chin.

"When I feel the time is right," he says confidently.

"Before the baby is born?" she inquires, raising an eyebrow and looking at your stomach.

"Yes." he breathes out.

"What's the gender?" his grandmother inquires.

"We don't know yet, we're finding out tomorrow."

"You better hope it's a boy." she murmurs, already bored of this tit for tat.

"I'll be happy with whatever Y/N gives me." he replies truthfully.

"We did not raise you this way, Yoongi. We raised you-"

"You didn't raise me. Maya did. My father burnt holes into my chest to try to teach me how to be a person and he learned that from your husband," Yoongi quips.

You close your eyes, feeling a headache already coming on.

"Oh my God," you whisper under your breath.

"And you, Y/N, what is your take on all of this?" his grandmother asks.

You're completely at odds, you've never dealt with anything like this in your life.

"Leave her out of thi-"

"I was not talking to you, Yoongi!"

He sighs softly, pressing his thumb and pinky finger to either temple.

So for once you just let everything go. "Mrs. Min, I'm very sorry if I've brought chaos into this house because of me being pregnant. But, I love your grandson very much. I know I'm not the perfect choice for a CEO but I've been working very hard to learn about what a woman has to do to take care of things on her end. I'm very happy to be with Yoongi and so happy we get to have a family together. I might not be like Sera, I might not come from money but I've never wanted Yoongi's money at all. I just want my baby to be loved and taken care of."

Yoongi runs his hands over his face, this is why he adores you. You're such a good girl.

"Oh dear lord, you're too sweet to even be angry at," his grandmother scoffs.

You can practically see the cogs turning in her head. Your boyfriend runs his thumb comfortingly over your bump but you're still nervous. The power this woman exudes could bring civilizations down.

"Well, what are your skills? You have to bring something to this family." she determines.

Your mouth opens to reply, is she accepting you?

"She's a wonderful painter!" Yoongi says quickly.

Min Seyoung tilts her head, running her hand over her long ponytail. "Show me." she orders.

He stands up straight within a second, fixing his suit jacket. "By all means," he replies, opening the office door for her.

You begin to frown, you don't show your paintings to anyone. It's just a hobby!

"I mean, they're okay they're not-"

"Van Gogh would adore them!" Yoongi compliments, watching his grandmother walk out first.

You sigh gently, earning eyes from your boyfriend. "It's okay, baby!" he mouths, holding his hand out to you.

You take his hand reluctantly, standing up slowly from the chair.

"Easy, little dove." he whispers.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his grandmother watching you both and it makes your legs shake out of nervousness once more.

"Her art studio is just on the second floor," Yoongi says, slinging his arm over your shoulders.

Min Seyoung hums, folding her arm beneath the other as she combs her fingers through her long black hair.

There is awkward silence while you walk down the stairs, your eyes lingering on the deadbolted room that first brought you and Yoongi together.

"It's just next to the nursery!" Yoongi says.

"I have to tell you Y/N. I take art very seriously." Yoongi's grandmother informs you.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, knowing she's just trying to make you nervous.

"You're going to be impressed," he promises.

She hums nonchalantly as you all stop in front of the art studio.

Your palms become sweaty, head swimming and you greedily chug the strawberry water to cool yourself down.

When the door is swung open, you bite on your bottom lip nervously.

Your done paintings line the east wall of the room while your unfinished ones line the west.

You've missed being in here, the faint smell of paint and paint thinner make you relax.

Seyoung folds her hands behind her back as she wades through the room. Her eyes narrow at your paintings and your breath catches in your throat.

"I-It's just a hobby… So…" you find yourself explaining.

"They're beautiful, baby." your boyfriend insists in your ear.

"Well," Seyoung says, tilting her head at the bird hanging from a bird feeder painting, "you do have skill."

Yoongi sighs gratefully, his shoulders straighten up and he kisses your temple softly.

"Why aren't these in art galleries?" his grandmother inquires.

Whoa. That's a big compliment.

She turns to you, head tilting and expecting an answer.

Yoongi steps away, a proud smile spreading over his face.

"Well… It's always just been a hobby. I've never put any stake into it."

"Pretty and humble and sweet?" Seyoung murmurs, raising an eyebrow and looking at her grandson.

He beams at her, sending her the happiest smile he can muster.

"No wonder Yoongi is so fond of you."

You can feel your skin blushing as the corners of her lips finally quirk up.

When she turns back to the paintings, she points at one of the black and grey paintings you've made.

"Is this an ultrasound of your baby?" she asks, leaning forward to inspect it.

"Yes, it's one of three." you reply, smirking as Yoongi runs his hands over your arms excitedly.

"I'd like to have it. To put in my office." she says, turning back to the both of you.

You find yourself smiling, nodding to her statement. "Of course, it's your great grandchild after all!"

She hums humorously. "So it would seem."

Yoongi takes it down from the wall carefully, his eyes enraptured with the painting.

"You'll be a good mother." Seyoung determines, folding her arms.

As Yoongi wraps the painting in bubble wrap, you can feel his grandmother's eyes on you. "Let me suggest something to you both since you seem so intent on keeping one another."

"Please, by all means," Yoongi replies.

"Make it easier for yourselves. Make Myeyoung put Y/N's paintings in her gallery. Set up a contract with Y/N for the new mall, have her make some artwork for it since we don't have any art yet. Get Y/N's name out there so when you do get your divorce from Sera, she won't just be a poor girl that got pregnant on a whim." his grandmother insists.

Yoongi looks up slowly from the painting, his eyes widening.

"You want Y/N to make the art for the Gangnam mall?" he asks, surprised.

"Do as I say Yoongi."

"Yes, grandmother! Right away!" he bubbles excitedly.

Your mouth opens in shock, your hand sliding over it with widening eyes.

"Bring it down to the car, I have a dinner meeting. Y/N, I'll be seeing you soon I'm sure. Yoongi, try not to stir up too much drama for the family name." Seyoung orders, running her hand over your stomach as she exits the art studio.

When the baby kicks beneath her hand, you catch her gentle smirk before she's off down the hallway. "Tell me tomorrow if it's a boy or not."

"Holy shit," your boyfriend breathes, chasing after her with the wrapped painting.

Standing alone in the art studio, you find yourself starting to laugh, hands combing through your hair in shock.

"Grandmother, thank you!" Yoongi whines, finally catching up with her in the museum wing.

When she turns to him, her eyes soften completely. "You're right, you deserve this. Now do it the right way or don't do it at all." she says, taking the painting from him.

He bows to her deeply, "Yes, grandmother. Of course."

"Is Sera really that bad?" she asks, opening the front door.

"Yes," he gasps.

"Well, better to be rid of her then." she surmises, walking out to her car.

Yoongi leans against the doorway, watching as she climbs into the car. If his grandmother somewhat approves, half the battle is fought already. He sighs happily, running his hands over his face.

"Yes!" he whispers fiercely, shaking his fist and slamming the door shut.

It didn't take long for Yoongi to find you, he knew exactly where you'd be. He smirks at the sight before him, you laying down in your bed, hand on your stomach.

"Hi, beautiful." he whispers, kicking off his shoes.

You look up as you hear his voice, a smile spreading over your face.

"I missed this bed," you mumble.

He hums, kneeling at the end of the bed.

You look gorgeous, hair splayed out over your pillow. He finds something tugging at his heart this evening. Something full of burning passion.

"You said you love me," he avows, bending down to kiss you.

"You said it first," you quip, cupping his cheek as he kisses you languidly.

"Because I mean it," he breathes out.

"So do I," you reply.

His hands grab at your hips, teeth tugging on your bottom lip sensuously enough that your pussy clenches around nothingness.

You whimper against his lips, the sound sending arousal flooding through his bones.

"Fuck," he curses, lifting you up.

When you're sitting up comfortably, his fingers pull down the zipper on the back of your dress. His warm hand spreads over the skin of your back.

"I want you around me," he whispers wantonly, rutting his hardening cock against your stomach.

"Daddy," you beg against his lips, feeling your arousal drip onto your panties.

"Get this fucking dress off," he orders and you're quick to do his bidding.

Standing tall before him, you shrug the dress off. He groans gently at your half naked body, his hands greedily grab at your sides to pull you between his parted legs.

His lips kiss at the curve of your swollen breasts, suckling small red petals to your skin marking you as his. You whimper loudly as he snaps his fingers to the clasp of your bra, your breasts bouncing free with a sigh.

"Look at you," he mumbles reverently, peeling the lace away from your skin.

He sighs happily, eyes looking up at you as he trails his lips over your ever heating skin.

"You're beautiful, little dove," he praises, running his hands over your back to the globes of your ass and palming the skin roughly.

You gasp his name loudly, head lolling back. His lips encircle your stiffening nipple, tugging on it sensually.

When he suckles your sensitive skin, your body shudders in his grasp.

"D-Daddy!" you whine, your fingers carding through his black hair.

He hums against you, his tongue quickly flicking at your nipple.

When he suckles once more, you gasp loudly, eyes rolling back. He can taste something creamy on his tongue, and he groans loudly, pulling you closer to his body.

"Fuck, your milk is here," he whispers, cupping your forsaken breast. His fingertips pinch and roll at your nipple, his breath becoming short and caught in his throat as he feels small droplets of milk land on the back of his hand.

"Oh, little dove." he groans.

With blurry, lust filled eyes, you begin to unbutton his shirt.

His hand leaves your ass to cup your stomach, his cock throbbing painfully hard through his suit pants.

Shoving off his shirt and suit jacket, he forsakes your breasts all together. Kissing over your protruding belly, he unbuttons his pants with feral need.

"God, you're incredible." he breathes out, tugging down his pants.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth as his cock is freed. The long length is throbbing, the mushroom tip red with needy desires.

His fingers enmesh into the sides of your underwear, he tugs them harshly, the lace turning into mere strings within his grasp.

"Fuck, you're soaked. You little cock slut," he seethes through his teeth, spreading your legs to get a better view.

Strands of arousal cling to your inner thighs and you whimper as he drags his fingertips along your sodden lips.

"Daddy, fuck." you whimper, eyes squeezing shut.

"Come here," he commands, running his thumb over your cheek.

He wraps you in a passionate kiss, his tongue rough against yours.

"Sit on my cock," he whispers against your lips, pulling your body closer to his.

His fingers rub smooth circles on your clit, your thighs locking as pleasure begins to course through you.

Turning around, your bottom lip purchases between your teeth. Yoongi takes his time, running his hands over your warm flesh. His hands grope at the globes of your ass, kissing over your shoulder as you begin to sit down.

He curses gently, eyes raking over your back.

He can’t begin to understand why he was just so against having sex with you a few months ago. Now, he just can’t control himself. He needs to be in you, around you, on you all the time. Maybe it’s because he loves you more than a single person in their lifetime should -- or maybe it’s because the bond between you, his pregnant girlfriend, and him is just so strong with his child within you.

Gripping the base of his cock, he watches with wondrous eyes as you part your legs over his. Your sodden cunt glides over his length and he curses so softly, it seems to vibrate through you.

"Don't tease, little dove." he commands, but it comes out like a whine.

You steady your hands on his knees, slowly sliding down onto his cock.

The moan he emits, so raw and animalistic sends your body shaking with anticipation.

He's never made love to a woman before you, and now he can't get enough. He enjoys how your breath stutters when he praises you, he adores how tense your body gets as he gives you his pleasure. Everything about you is his -- and it's perfect.

You whimper loudly as he stretches you, your hand hooks around the back of his neck. When his hands palm your breasts, you can feel your pussy quivering and clenching around him.

"I can't believe you're producing milk already, you're such a good mother, hmm?" he whispers in your ear, lips trailing over the shell.

"Y-Yes Daddy," you whimper in reply.

His fingers pinch and roll your nipples gently, the action sending your head lolling back to his shoulder. You grind your hips down on him, adoring how he begins to breathe heavier in your ear.

"God, your pussy is so warm, baby. So fucking wet," he seethes through his teeth.

When you lift up on shaky legs, one of his hands leaves your breast to cup your stomach.

"Daddy, your cock feels so good." you murmur.

"Show me how much you love my cock," he begs, nipping at your earlobe with his teeth.

You begin a steady pace, bouncing on his cock with gritted teeth and starry eyes.

"Oh fuck, there you go, little dove. Making my cock feel so fucking good, baby girl." he breathes out, suckling his marks to the column of your neck.

When you whimper his name, he feels as if he could explode on the spot.

"Your belly feels so nice and big in my hands, little dove." he praises, eyes fluttering shut.

"Y-Yeah? It feels good?" you ask, your voice turning into a whine as you bounce faster on his cock.

"So good, baby. Feels so fucking good." he replies, rubbing circles sensuously on your stomach.

The sound of your wetness echoes throughout the room and you can barely hold yourself together as white hot pleasure courses through you.

"Who does this pregnant pussy belong to? Hmm? Tell me," your boyfriend goads, pinching roughly at your nipple and growling as milk droplets coat his honey skin.

"My pussy belongs to you! I belong to you!" you cry out, swiveling your hips.

"Christ! That's right, little dove. You belong to me!" he seethes, running his hand from your breast to the apex of your thighs.

Your moans become louder as he begins to rub circles to your clit, your mind becoming hazy and foggy with lust.

"God, your cunt is so fucking messy, little dove. You love my cock that much? Your filthy slut of a cunt can't handle my big cock, you're creaming all over me." he moans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder.

He can feel your body tensing and stuttering on top of him, he knows you're becoming tired. His hands grip at your hips, flipping you over easily. You gasp loudly, grabbing onto the edge of the bed.

"Fuck, you like it when Daddy manhandles you like the little whore you are?" he asks, gripping the back of your neck for leverage.

He pounds into you like a man possessed, something animalistic taking over him.

"Yes! Feels so fucking good!" you cry out.

Running his tongue over his lips, he can feel your pussy begin to clench around him. You're close.

He cups your stomach, holding you steady as he fucks into you harder. The quickness knocks the oxygen from your lungs and you can only babble a semblance of his name.

"God! You're incredible!" he whines, throwing his head back.

When he lets go of your neck to spank your ass, you can feel your orgasm approaching like a windstorm.

"D-Daddy! Cumming!" you cry out.

He moans loudly, his balls beginning to tighten as your arousal drips down his thighs. "Fucking hold it." he instructs.

You sob loudly, pressing your face into the mattress. He spanks you roughly, the sight of his handprint smarting on your skin heightens his pleasure. He can hear your small mewls and whines as you bury your face deeper into the bed.

When he rubs your clit, feeling how hot and throbbing it is, his eyes roll back. "God, your clit is so swollen, you little slut."

"Daddy!" you beg, white knuckling the sheets in your hands.

"Cum." he commands and you fall undone with that simple word.

Your heartbeat roars in your ears, emitting sobs of pleasure into the sheets.

He curses loudly, gripping at your hips. He begins to drive himself home within you, adoring how you squeal and beg for more beneath him.

"Pregnant little slut beneath me. Letting me defile her dirty pussy with my child inside her. What does that say about you, baby?"

Sluggishly raising your head, you whimper. "I'm your little pregnant slut."

He curses loudly, pulling out of you and flipping you over.

"You're my little slut, hmm?" he prods, thrusting back into you with unrivaled quickness. Your nails claw at his arms, nodding with a whimper.

He wraps your legs around his waist, pounding into you with everything he has.

You watch with loving eyes as his black hair sticks to his face, how he looks down at you like you put all of the stars in the sky just for him.

His hands rub at your stomach, bottom lip tucking into his mouth.

"Why're you my little slut? Cause you like my big cock fucking your cunt open? Is that it? You like how I split your pregnant pussy open like this?" he asks, pinching at your leaking nipple.

"Because I-I love you!" you cry, running your hands over his chest.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth, the words sending him into a sensory overload.

"Fuck, I love you too, little dove. I love you so much baby, it fucking hurts me!" he mumbles, feeling his cock begin to twitch and throb within you once more.

"God, you're so beautiful," he praises, finding himself coming to an end.

You gasp loudly when he palms your swollen breasts once more, how absolutely gentle he is.

"You're gonna make me cum, baby." he whispers.

Your pussy clenches around him again and he knows you're close to your second orgasm. He wills himself to wait, dying to feel your release just one more time.

Your thighs lock around him, quivering and shaking.

"You're close, huh beautiful? You want to cum on my big cock again? Want me to feel how much you love me?" he asks, running his thumbs over your continuously leaking nipples.

You nod incessantly, back arching off of the bed. "Gonna cum again for you Daddy, you make my pussy feel so good!"

"Good girl," he praises.

He lifts your hips higher, the head of his cock dragging against the sweet spot inside of you with each thrust.

You scream his name in ecstacy, your eyes squeezing shut as he curses.

"Daddy!" you warn loudly, grabbing onto the sheets beside you.

"Fuck yes, hold your belly and cum for me!" he instructs, fucking deeper into you with every stroke.

You do as told, holding the weight of your stomach in your hands.

"Cum," he seethes through gritted teeth and you see stars.

Your cum squirts onto his thighs, your body shaking and whimpering.

"Fuck! Good girl, little dove! I'm cumming!" your boyfriend moans loudly.

You gasp loudly, feeling his warm cum paint your cervix. He breathes raggedly above you, hands running through his sweat soaked hair.

"Jesus Christ," he gasps, his throat tight and dry.

You whimper when he pulls out of you, your bottom lip tucks between your teeth.

"I fucking love you," he whispers, watching how his cum begins to cream from your swollen cunt.

"I love you too," you breathe out.

He hums gently, minding your stomach as he bends down for a kiss. His lips are soft and loving against yours.

"So you're going to be a super famous artist now? I get to live with one of the greatest forward thinking, artistic minds?" he quips, pulling you into his arms.

"What? That's Leonardo Da Vinci. Do I look like a Leonardo to you?" you retort with a laugh, curling into his side.

"Maybe… Although you look more like a Donatello to me."

You snort loudly, rolling your eyes. "You're an idiot."

"Well you're a smartass," he gripes, slapping your backside gently.

"You're lucky I love you," you mumble, pressing your face into his chest.

He shivers as you kiss over his small tattoos, eyes fluttering shut gratefully. "Not as much as I love you." he whispers, running his hand over your back gently.

"This is the start to something good, little dove. I can feel it." Yoongi declares, kissing the top of your head.

Once the ball is rolling, there's very few things that can stop it. And Yoongi intends for it to roll all the way to divorce court.’

Next Chapter ---->

Third Wheeling Taglist - @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @yxnxxli, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @rkchmestizangmaldita, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie, @preciouschimine, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii, @kooafraid, @ladykadyrova, @singjisu, @yazanii, @moonlitmyg, @justzeera, @absolutefantrash, @whocaresarchives, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx, @bt21chim, @flowerboyhobi, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper

I’m sorry for those it didn’t tag, even some that have always been able to tag just didn’t today and I don’t understand why!

#third wheeling #btscreatorscorner #thebt #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #ceo!au #ceo!yoongi #yoongi smut #dom!yoongi #pregnant smut

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

Text

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

one lifetime | d. kaminari

➳ tags ;; fluff, insecurity, existentialism (?), falling in love, fem!reader, like.. no dialogue, a singular mention of sex, alchohol ment/partying habits. implied player denki

➳ wc ;; 1.4k (literally what)

➳ a/n ;; this was just supposed to be like a short little thing. idk how or why its this long.

➳ plot ;; denki falls in love and re-evaluates his life as it is.

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

Denki Kaminari likes to say the same phrase when he’s living his life out.

“We’re gonna live forever!”

And he says it with his chest, a warm grin spread across his face. Cheeks aching and red from the night wind, brushing across it like knuckles. It’s a half-lie, half-truth, half cheeky statement in regards to his dangerous job and even more dangerous lifestyle. He knows that all those things don’t make a whole, 3 halves - but that phrase is just as overzealous.

The point is that he likes to say it whenever he’s having fun. Whether that be at his 21st birthday, sparklers flying out of his cake or in the middle of a drunken night - head stuck out of the window. He’s not sure why exactly.

But he assumes he enjoys dancing with the implication that it’s possible. That, by living like this, there isn’t anything finite about existence and the he could, indeed, live as long as he wanted. Somehow, he’ll be broadly immortalized by his partying habits and missed connections and videos of him dancing with strangers at clubs. That these things will live on even farther than the legacy he was supposed to have by heroism.

Denki Kaminari likes to think the idea of living forever is really just a way for him to say that he doesn’t have to think about the life he’s already living. The fact that he’s not unhappy but he’s not exactly where he likes to be. This hollowing incompleteness that rests on the apples of his cheeks and weighs down his smile. It doesn’t matter - this loneliness or sorrow. None of it matters if we have infinity.

We’re gonna live forever right? So why try and think about the unimportant. There are bigger fish to fry. Bigger things to worry about.

He isn’t.. sad. And he knows he shouldn’t be lonely. He has friends who care for him, and all the girls he could ever want, and he’s doing good! On the hero rankings, he broke 10 last week for the first time. He’s something of a bigshot now. He has media coverage. He has fans. He has the life he always dreamed of as a teenager - experiences all the cool shit he ever wanted.

But he is, anyways. Lonely, that is. If he were more honest with himself than that’s really the only word to describe it. It’s a deep, unsettling loneliness.

And he swore to himself that he was above most things. He would live out his dreams for the rest of his life and it would be awesome. Life would be so good He didn’t need to fall in love. Or if he did, it would be with some hot supermodel or whatever else.

Lately, Denki finds that he really doesn’t want to live forever.

The funny thing about love is that it brings you feelings that you didn’t even know existed. Like one day you’re completely fine but the next - you love someone so much life without them seems miserable. And there’s that weird, never ending fear that they might die. Then it’s 2am and you’re crying because you love them. Love them so much that you don’t really want to live forever but that you just don’t want them to die before you. That would make you so sad.

And you’re not really the type of person Denki imagined himself with. You used to just be the lady on his patrol who sold Taiyaki on the corner with a pretty bandana on your head and a lovely smile. You sold other things, but he likes the Taiyaki the best. And despite how much shit you’ve seen on the corner, you never seem to leave it. You say you’re too attached to ever go, you’ve been there for four years of college and you’ll be devastated when you leave someday.

And it’s funny because he’s not sure the two of you could be more different. You’re the type of person who others love - you have that tenderness to you. Soft hands and warm eyes. Everything about you is beautiful in the same way that renaissance paintings are. That kind, dreaminess that makes his stomach feel tight.

He really didn’t mean to fall in love with you. It just sorta happened on his part. One late patrol became many, became talking to you for hours and hours on mundane days, became asking about your life. Where do you go to school? What do you do? Hows your relationship with your parents? Do you like coffee or tea or maybe neither? And hey, are you seeing anyone lately?

Would you like too?

Denki Kaminari didn’t really ever intend to be a settled man.

But then he met you and the the idea of you having kids or marrying anyone other than him was so upsetting - he cries over it drunk. He met you and suddenly, he thinks that you might like some flowers he bought. He daydreams about holding your pinky and walking with you. Pictures living with you in an apartment - somewhere in the city. He’d take you out on the town to eat pizza and play at the arcade and then you could make out in the park.

You always listen to him. He didn’t know he wasn’t being heard until he met you. And you sat there and listened to him talk about his favorite video games for hours and hours - the classics, the lore, the fan-theories. You kissed him when he apologized for talking so much, promised you didn’t mind. These days, if he goes off on a tangent - your smile makes your eyes crinkle in the corner and your lips turn up in a smile. You encourage him to talk as much as he likes, hold his hand and squeeze it whenever he thinks he’s being too much.

Denki didn’t know he spent so much of his life hiding. It’s scary, he has to admit. He thinks maybe you’re the only person who’s ever seen him. Not as the funny guy, or the partier, or the hero, or the side-character - he’s just Denki. You don’t lose interested in him when people like Kirishima and Bakugou are around. When someone asks who you’re dating - you hold his arm and say his name.

Not Chargebolt but “oh! this is my boyfriend, Denki”. You smile and nudge his side. And no matter how much he hates himself somedays - you love him, always. With open arms and an unlocked door to your apartment - where you’re cooking dinner in the kitchen wearing cute socks. You’re the girlfriend he dreamed of in highschool - the one that wears anime merch and joins him in new things and holds onto him when she’s scared.

The one he didn’t think he could have, no matter how much he wanted it. You’re a dream that he’s living. A living, breathing dream.

The first Denki laid in bed with you - he didn’t remember much about the sex other than the fact it was good. It was so good he cried afterwards. He sobbed into your arms and you stroked his back, ran your hands over your shoulders and kisses his head. He doesn’t remember the sex itself, not really - but he remember the way the sunlight hit your skin when morning came. He spent the whole night looking at you, would you believe it? And it was nice. It was good.

It’s so good being loved by you that Deki no longer wants to live forever. Needs too.

Which is funny right - because you’d think the alternative would be for the two of you to be together forever. Instead of just him, you could spend eternity together latched to each others sides.

It sounds nice in theory. It’d be nice if the two of you could stay together until time ends, and even if you left - he’s sure he’d spend eternity chasing you again.

But he loves you so much that he doesn’t want to live forever. There would be so much he’d miss if that were the case. He wouldn’t be able to grow old with you like he wants, and if you had kids - what if they passed before you. Or even if you didn’t, you’d outlive all your friends. You would be able to see the whole world but then you’d run out of things together.

Infinity is better in theory than in practice. He doesn’t want to live for forever because he knows he can’t. He doesn’t need to do something so.. impractical to be happy.

Being with you, just for one lifetime, is enough to make him happier than he could ever dream.

When Denki wakes up with you in his bed tomorrow morning - he knows in that moment that this is all he could ever need.

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

#denki x reader #kaminari x reader #bnha x reader #writing tag #i dont feel like tagging this <3

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 3

So I picked option 2 cause I just had more ideas around it. I could probably still do 1 and 3 sometime but this is the direction we're going now. Y/n gets a call from her horrible grandmother who is expecting a visit.

Trigger warning: discussions of emotional and mental abuse, gaslighting

That night at his dining table was the start of something wonderful. You made a point to apply a bit of perfume to your neck before you left your apartment. Your three slightly judgmental but overall supportive roommates even donated a few drops of their own fragrances from time to time.

You didn’t like the sound of the sentence “Hannibal is my boyfriend”. It just didn’t hit your ear right. ‘Boyfriend’ was too childish of a title for him. By extension, he found something very diminutive about referring to you as his girlfriend. You were, of course, a grown woman. He remedied this right away, resigning to call you his ‘darling’. You, however, had to use ‘partner’ as a placeholder until a more suitable pet name presented itself. Although the titles were never stated outright, after a while, you knew it was more than just a passionate affair. Hannibal (and you were calling him Hannibal, now) saw potential in you. He nurtured you and had been since day one.

Finally, things were starting to go your way. You were in classes you loved, had wonderful, supportive friends and a fulfilling relationship. It took over twenty years, but better late than never.

But, if there was one thing you learned from your short stint as a student of physics, it was that what goes up must come down. Your long-awaited bliss was about to be tested by an equal and opposite force bearing the name “Beatrice [L/N]” on the caller ID.

Not only did she call, but she called three times in the middle of your meal. And that was followed by multiple texts, several of which containing words like “emergency” in all caps. You were just trying to enjoy another one of Hannibal’s culinary works of art, but the old bitch was persistent.

You apologetically excused yourself from the table and retreated to the office with your phone.

Grandma, you had better be on your fucking deathbed. You thought to yourself before sliding the green answer icon across the screen.

“[F/N]!” Came her shrill voice. “You finally answered. I was beginning to worry.”

“What do you want, grandma?” You groan.

“I wanted to ask you what you were wearing to Anna’s wedding next weekend.” She explained, calmly as ever. “The color scheme is seafoam and coral and she wants to make sure everyone adheres to it for pictures.”

You covered the speaker with your hand and pulled your phone away from your ear so she couldn’t hear you bite back a scream. It physically pained you to return the phone to your ear. “Yeah, I RSVPed no to Anna’s wedding.”

“[F/N],” Your grandmother said in that scolding tone you knew all too well. “Your cousin expects you to be there. I expect you to be there. I invested so much money into this wedding, I will take it as a personal affront if you don’t attend.”

You take everything as a personal affront. You thought.

“It doesn’t matter, I already said no. She’s not going to have a chair or food for me.” You explained, hoping that you found some way out of this conversation.

“No, she will.” Your grandma corrected. “I won’t have any child of mine absent from another’s wedding. I put in all the work to pull this event together.”

For a moment, you almost felt bad for Anna. Having to endure your grandmother’s micromanaging was a circle of hell even Dante refused to tread.

"Of course, heaven forbid someone in your life show an ounce of autonomy." You finally snapped.

"I don't know why you're acting so rude, but it stops now." Grandma ordered. "I raised you as my own daughter. You should be more grateful for the luxuries I can extend to you. I didn't have to take you in, you know..."

It pained you to stay quiet when all you wanted to say was "I wish you hadn't".

"Your emotional manipulation isn't going to work on me anymore." You informed her.

“So, naturally, I’ve seen to it that you are expected." She continued her own conversation without even acknowledging yours. "You and a plus one, of course.”

You hadn’t even considered the possibility of attending the wedding with Hannibal. The two points never once intersected. And they never would. You vowed that Hannibal would never meet your grandmother or cousins. At that moment, that was the hill you were willing to die on.

“If I come at all, I’m coming alone.” You snap. “You can punish me all you want but I am not letting you get him involved.”

“Him?” Your grandma repeated. “So there is someone?”

“Someone you are keeping me from.” You said, thoroughly frustrated and now panicked at the idea that your grandmother knew Hannibal existed. “Goodbye.”

You didn't want to rejoin Hannibal in such a sour mood, but you didn't want to keep him waiting either. You returned even more apologetically than you left and took your seat.

"Everything alright, love?" He asked. You could tell he was raring to psychoanalyze you.

You shook your head. "It was my grandma."

"I could tell that much." He admitted, beginning to cut into his steak. "What with all the frustration you're trying so desperately to hide. What did she want?"

"She called to tell me she expects me at my cousin's wedding next Saturday." You rolled your eyes. "I'd already declined the invitation, but she didn't like that, apparently."

"Which cousin is this?" He probed. "The one that works as an engineer for Halliburton?

"No, that's Theresa." You shook your head. "And she works for Halliburton, but she's not an engineer. She's a PR executive."

"Right." Hannibal nodded, taking a bite of steak between his teeth. "She took after your grandmother and turned gaslighting into a career."

You smiled a bit. "Right."

"So, it's Anna, then?" He concluded. "You haven't told me much about her. Perhaps she is the benign tumor of the family?"

"More or less." You shrugged. "She works at a publishing agency. Only got the job because her boyfriend's uncle's the CFO. She didn't even make it to the interview. It was pure nepotism."

"And now she's marrying the boyfriend, I presume?"

"Yeah." You felt a grin cross your face thinking about what you were going to say next. "She wasn't even dating him at the time. She was dating someone else and cheating on him with the guy she's marrying now."

Hannibal grinned. "You like knowing this? Having information that could potentially ruin her life?"

You knew there was no use in lying. The look on your face said it all. "Absolutely I do. When you're the black sheep of the family, you've gotta take power where you can get it. Mine just so happens to be potential blackmail."

"I'm quite delighted to be privy to this side of you, love." He smiled. "We're a bit vindictive, now are we?"

"Are you kidding?" You snicker. "These are the girls that psychologically tormented me growing up. Of course I'm vindictive."

"So about this wedding." He didn't look up from his plate. "Do they expect you to bring a date?"

"They do." You nod, your eyes wandering off. "But I can't let them meet you. They're just so unspeakably rude all the time."

For some reason, you felt that this didn't deter him. Perhaps it even compelled him a little. "Oh?"

"They take this really strange pride in making scenes everywhere they go." You explained. "They've already ruined so much of my life. I can't even give them the opportunity to ruin this too."

"Darling," Hannibal leaned in. "Is there a part of you that wants to attend this event?"

You held your tongue before you said anything you both know to be untrue. "...maybe a small part."

"That small part of you that wants power. That wants justice." He nodded. "Indulge it for a moment. What does this wedding look like to you?"

Trying to keep up the illusion that you hadn't thought of this before, you paused for a moment. "...we would show up--you and I--and I'd be wearing a stunning gown that doesn't fit the stupid color scheme at all. And there's just an unspoken knowledge that I could absolutely ruin Anna's entire day. Anna and Theresa and Grandma are all being nice to me because if I so much as mention the name of that boyfriend she cheated on, I'd ruin her life and possibly her career. So finally I hold all the cards."

Hannibal looked proud. He took a sip of his wine. "You want to be powerful, but with just enough restraint so they know you're the bigger person."

"Exactly." You agreed.

"Perhaps my fondness for you is clouding my professional judgment, darling." He put his wine glass down. "The thought of you in an evening gown, commanding attention and reverence... that's just something I have to see."

"...something you have to see?" You met eyes with him, realizing you were on the same page.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket again. This time, you didn't feel the need to step out.

"Hey [F/N], care to explain why my sister is crying?" Theresa snapped through the receiver.

"Is someone cutting onions nearby?" You offered. "That usually makes me tear up."

"Fucking hell, for once in your meaningless life can you care about someone other than yourself?!" Theresa yelled. "Grandma told us you're not coming to the wedding."

You looked back at Hannibal, who gave you a nod. "Actually, I am. We are."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #reader insert #hannibal nbc

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

Text

Be Forever Young (Reid Fluff Fic)

Summary: After Penelope’s resignation from the BAU, she attempts to set up her tech protégé, Reader, with Reader’s intellectual match yet much older counterpart - Dr. Spencer Reid.

A/N: The POV switches between Reader and Spencer, just use context clues to detect who the narrator is. Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: 21 year age gap, headcannon proposal Playlist: Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny Word Count: 6.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Prologue

Events like these weren’t exceedingly rare. They weren’t anything like Halley’s Comet, by any means, where it only happens once in your lifetime - if you’re lucky. But they weren’t exactly sunrises - something that you can count on occurring every day without fail.

The best celestial phenomenon I could compare it to are blue moons. Rare enough to still have an element of surprise when they came, but not so rare that I should never expect them.

These ‘blue moons’ are actually the events in which I meet an intellectual match.

It’s not too often that I find a mind quite like mine, so you’ll forgive me for the reaction it elicits to watch them transcend the physical level and connect with me on the psychological one. There’s only been a handful of people who’ve ever had the exact standard of aptitude to be permissible into this metaphysical world with me, but now - there’s a handful and one.

The newest addition to the list is her.

_ _ _

Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia is nearly impossible. Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia about Dr. Spencer Reid is impossible.

I couldn’t tell you when the first time she brought him up was, but I could probably tell you just how many times since then she’s mentioned him.

A trillion. At least.

For months on end, he was the only thing she would talk to me about. Morning, noon, and night. Every single day she’d gush about him with the same unrelenting zeal as she had the day before and the day before that. It was both scary and impressive how she never seemed to run out of good things to say about him.

“You would just die for his apartment. It’s got this super chic dark academia thingy going on. You’d be really into that,” she would say. Or something to that effect. I was never really listening.

Not that I wasn’t interested in learning about Dr. Reid - I was very interested in him.

As a superior.

I first learned of him when he taught my Psych 101 class. Freshman year me was simply enthralled with him as a speaker, probably due to the charm of his awkward humor. I found it eerily relatable and touching, in a way. That was probably my favorite class, minus the assholes who made it less than enjoyable at times. (That’s a story for later).

The next interaction I had with him happened not even a year later when he came back after temporarily teaching to sit in on a philosophy class. Even though he was only auditing the lecture, whereas I was enrolled in the course, he ended up sitting in the seat right beside me. Had he not been gifted with an eidetic memory - a fact I found out during one of my obsessive research sessions - I doubt he would’ve even remembered sitting next to me.

Our shared field of work helped to bring us back together repeatedly throughout college. I would run into him at seminars, workshops, once even at a library where we were both looking for the same book.

But for the most part, our relationship was parasocial. It largely consisted of me learning from him at a distance. I would use his brilliant research to support my own assignments, read the books he recommended, audit the classes he would teach.

Rather than accurately interpreting my very limited, very professional connection to Dr. Reid, Penelope was deliberately using it as ammunition for her arsenal of reasons why I should consider dating him.

“You guys are basically already friends, and nothing is cuter than the friends-to-lovers trope!” Now that she actually did say, and the only reason I remember it verbatim was it was so outrageous I couldn’t not remember it.

And probably because she just said it to me right now.

“We’re not friends! We’re ... acquaintances. Colleagues, if you will.” My attempts to gain distance from Penelope and this topic of conversation were crashing and burning. The more I tried to walk away from her, the faster she would chase me. It was inconceivable how she managed to do that and continue to pelt me with her perky persistence.

“Even better! You know I’m no stranger to workplace romances.”

That I did. One Derek Morgan or one Luke Alvez ring a bell?

“Dr. Reid and I don’t work together,” I reminded her, if only to burst her bubble of insanity.

“Exactly my point! If you two don’t work together, then there’s nothing keeping you apart.”

I was stopped dead in my tracks, almost causing Penelope to trip since she was right on my heels.

“Nothing? Really? Try 21 years.”

That surely kept us apart.

Our age gap was one of those glaring disparities Penelope couldn’t wave away with her magic wand. Frankly, it wasn’t an age gap so much as it was an age Grand Canyon. He was a whole person of legal drinking age older than me!

Hell - our age gap itself was older than me!

Maybe there weren’t any contracts or agreements or supervisors to keep us apart, but there was still one significant thing doing that.

Time. Arguably the most important thing you needed to get right for a relationship to work.

If there were any chance that he and I were good together, that was squandered by our divergence in age.

Right person, wrong time ... but wrong time by more than two decades.

I could see the smallest fragment of hope wither away in Garcia’s eyes, and it actually hurt to have known that I caused that. Her voice was more solemn when she said, “You don’t have to date him, I just want you to go on a date. Get to know each other better. Who knows? You might finally graduate from colleagues to BFF’s.”

Not that I was seriously considering the possibility of growing closer to Dr. Reid, but there was one question lingering in my mind.

“Does he even want to go on this date? Have you asked him how he feels about it?”

Part of why I was wondering was on the off chance that she’d tell me he had the same objections towards this that I did, which would be good news for me since it would mark my reluctance as a sound judgment. If there was anyone whose opinion was worth something, it was his, right? After all, he was the provable genius in the same compromising position as me.

“Trust me, he’s been dying to do this.” In spite of her preface to trust her, I didn’t. I couldn’t be sure if she was suggesting that he’d been dying to go on a date with me or if he’d been dying to go on a date in general.

No offense to him, but I guessed it was the latter, and if that was the case, he was only being a team player because she hadn’t told him it was me she was setting him up with. Already suspecting that I’d probe further to navigate through her vagueness, she cut in with one last Hail Mary. “One date! That’s all!”

Whether you believe me or not, 100% the only reason why I said what I said next was to put an end to this madness. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Maybe 99.99%.

_ _ _

I never knew how I could lose so much time. Sure, if anyone asked, I could probably account for everything I’d done in my day, second by second. But still, there was this cloudiness, a fog, inhabiting my brain, casting this haze on whatever else dwelled in my mind, too.

I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 4 seconds at a time, and while that wasn’t incredibly concerning for the average human, it was disconcerting for me.

What was going on?

What is going on?

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, a hand began to wave in front of my face. “Yoo-hoo? Anybody in there?” JJ wondered aloud, causing me to realize it was her voice that asked the question from before.

“Yeah, sorry,” I shook my head to regain some clarity, but that did me no good. My foggy brain still remained. It goes without saying my words were worth nothing as well. JJ saw right through me in a way that never failed to scare me shitless. I could never conjure up a lie good enough to follow that look she’d give me. So I settled for the truth. The question that cast the haziness in my brain to begin with.

“What do you think about me dating again?”

If I thought that first look was bad, then the one she was giving me now was something of a nightmare. At least with the first, I knew what she was thinking. With this one, I hadn’t a clue.

To relieve us from some of the insufferable silence, I found myself speaking again in my defense. “Garcia mentioned something earlier about setting me up with someone and it got me thinking.”

Thinking about Max that is.

Being my most recent girlfriend, it made sense why she was freshest in my mind. That being said, we’ve been broken up for 14 months, which in any other context would seem like more than enough time to start dating again, but therein lies the catch.

We didn’t just break up. She said “no” when I asked her to marry me, which, if you ask me, is one hell of a way to break up.

So from that perspective, it obviously begs the question: is 14 months too fast to move on from something like that?

JJ sharply inhaled. “Well, are you ready to start dating again?”

I still didn’t have an answer for that myself. “I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a rulebook on how long you have to wait until it’s socially acceptable-”

“Lemme stop you right there, Spence,” She placed her hand on top of mine. “You can’t just do whatever statistics or studies or science say is right all the time. You not only need to be more in tune with your own needs but accepting of them, too. Screw what anyone else has to say about you dating again - including Socrates, including Einstein, including Aristotle ... including me. Do whatever you think is acceptable by your standards - not society’s. Do what you wanna do and I’ll support that.”

There was something special about having JJ’s approval. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted.

“I’m ready.”

Born ready, as Penelope herself would say.

_ _ _

I was starting to get suspicious that maybe I had an invisible string attached to me and on the other end of that string was Penelope. It was the only explanation as to how she managed to trail behind me at an isochronal pace. Perfectly equidistant, perfectly equal intervals of time. Must’ve been some form of magic that she was able to synchronize that connection for as long as she did as we pranced around the office, basically chasing me.

“Okay, I know the date isn’t until Saturday, but I really think we need to amp up your wardrobe choices ... like stat.”

Hearing that I was seeing my superior still didn’t settle well with me. I don’t think I could ever get used to the thought.

I should’ve been offended at her suggestion to change my clothing taste as it implied my stylistic choices weren’t up to par, but a part of me, a very small part of me, knew she was right. And just because I wasn’t keen on the idea of going on a date with Spencer didn’t mean I didn’t want to look nice for him for it.

“I’m assuming you’ve got some ideas in mind,” I said in a teasing voice, knowing that’s precisely why she brought it up.

“See! You are a genius! Exactly why you and Spencer are meant to be together!” Her exclamation was just as loud as it was outlandish.

“Alright, calm down sparky,” I shot a warning look. “It’s just one date - we’re not soulmates.”

Then, talking in the quietest voice I didn’t think Penelope was capable of speaking with, she said, “Not yet.”

I knew the minute I showed even the littlest bit of interest in Penelope’s fashion guidance, I’d end up draped in ruffles, sequins, glitter, tulle, rhinestones, or all of the above. Nothing again Penelope’s personal style - it’s just not mine.

I was scared to ask, but I had to know. “So what were you thinking?”

Before my very eyes, Penelope’s constantly-there smile transformed, something akin to the mischievous grin of the Cheshire Cat. “I was thinking …”

In a Mary Poppins-esque fashion, Penelope produced a dress that in no feasible reality should have been able to fit within that little Hello Kitty side bag.

I suppose it must’ve been absolutely backbreaking for Penelope to refrain from choosing a multicolor or at least pattern-riddled dress, so as compensation for the fact that it was only one singular color throughout, it had to be a bold one.

Red.

“Not too shabby, right?” Her eyebrows jumped on her forehead, knowing she’d made a good choice.

And a part of me actually died saying this, but it was pretty perfect.

_ _ _

My life didn’t flash before my eyes, per se, the moment I finally arrived at the delicatessen. It was more like a very specific, singular memory had flashed before my eyes.

That story for later? This is the one.

Psych 101 was my best class in Freshman year ... by a long shot. Come rain, wind, or snow, I was always excited to go. It was a standout course on its own, but not because it was terribly spectacular or the most fascinating subject in the world, but more so because of how it changed my own person. It challenged me, like all worthwhile things do.

There were more judgmental meatheads - boys, if you will - than not, who would jump down my throat for being a smart ass or a teacher’s pet if I so much as answered one of Dr. Reid’s questions. Par for the course, really.

As a result, I had a proclivity to avoid raising my hand. It wasn’t that I was hyper-fixated on managing my reputation, just that participating wasn’t worth the eventual harassment from my dimwitted classmates.

Nonetheless, one day, I felt compelled to answer Dr. Reid when he asked what our thoughts were about the sampled, pretense manifesto.

No one else was jumping at the chance to speak, perhaps they were just as cowardly as I was, and it was clear that he was going to stand there waiting until someone finally would. The silence was painfully awkward for everyone and so I felt obligated, as a student who was actually enrolled in the class for credit and not just to audit like 90% of the other girls here, to break it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, my hand hesitantly inched up into the air until it floated just high enough above the student in front of me’s head. As soon as I knew he saw it, I let it plunge straight back down.

“Yes, Ms. (y/l/n)?”

I could already feel the dirty looks and snide comments coming before I even said a word.

“I know we’re all collectively referring to this unsub as a man, and while that might just be a general assumption or Freudian slip perhaps ... I think the language is steeped in betrayal and contempt. And it would be ignorant not to notice how it reads more like the wrath of a woman scorned than your typical jilted male lover.”

“Lover?” Someone two rows back snickered quietly, clearly to mock my choice of words. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Brad who had said that. Nevertheless, Dr. Reid was impressed with my answer. His lips curved into the faintest smile as he nodded his head. If he had heard the commentary of one Brad Sterling, he made no visceral reaction to it.

With an extended hand, palm facing up, he gestured for me to, “Please. Stand up.”

I fumbled my way up and out of my seat to possibly delay the shit I’d get for this mere action.

“That, ladies and gentleman, is what it looks like to have courage,” He underlined his words with a grand flourish of his hand in my direction. “Putting yourself on the line even in the event you’ll be mocked and ridiculed or deemed wrong. That’s something you’ll need if you are seriously considering being part of the BAU, or the FBI at any capacity.”

My face was flushed from the acclaim he was showering me with. Suddenly, I was glad I volunteered.

Taking me completely by surprise, Dr. Reid wasn’t done yet.

“So, Mr. Sterling,” He began, directly calling out the boy in the back who without a doubt made the remark. I wouldn’t have had any reason to believe he heard it since his attention never diverted away from me long enough to catch the comment, much less the culprit. I wonder if he’d heard all the times Brad made jokes at my expense. Was he finally at his wits end with the sarcasm? “Make fun all you want, but might I suggest that if you like a girl, you do the opposite of that.”

His sickly sweet drawl was followed by a short wink at me as if to say ‘I have your back’, and I was lucky to have already been in the process of sitting back down because my knees would’ve given out underneath me from the sheer exhilaration of his praise.

The thought never once crossed my mind that Brad was so fixated on me because he had a crush, but it all made sense once it did. And if I didn’t know any better, Dr. Reid only humiliated him and brought it up because the realization dawned on him, too.

Was it possible that Dr. Reid was ... jealous?

In the spirit of complete transparency, that suspicion may have lit the tiniest wildfire imaginable in my chest. A wildfire that, even now, has yet to extinguish. Perhaps that little flame is the 0.01% of the reason I said yes. I could only imagine what kind of omnipotence it would soon gain if this date went well.

If he could light such an enduring kindle with simple praise, think about what would happen if he smiled at me. If he laughed at my jokes. If he held my hand.

If he kissed me.

Dr. Reid’s validation would be something I actively sought from all walks of life, I knew that much. What I didn’t know was how far that desire would take me.

I would have never guessed it would lead me here.

Standing in front of a fancy restaurant in a pretty red dress with the tenuous hope that the professor inside might just like it so much that he’ll end up liking the girl wearing it, too.

_ _ _

No matter how many times I adjusted the bouquet of poppies, they sat perpetually crooked on the table. Much like the dark gray tie around my neck that tightened around my throat with every passing second. I had to keep messing with it to loosen the noose-like grip it had on me. Who knew if it actually was becoming more restricting or it was the flourishing bundle of nerves in my stomach that made it harder to breathe.

I was never very good at lying in wait patiently. Especially if I was expecting something. Now that I was expecting someone? I could say with perfect clarity - I was not good at waiting.

I don’t wanna seem the way I do

Every time the door opened, my eyes flashed to it instantaneously. And every time it wasn’t her, a little part of me was disappointed. It was still too early to say for certain that she was standing me up, but my mind was doing what it did best. It wandered. There was nothing else to do after all.

Except maybe adjust those blood orange poppies one more time.

I’d picked them out specifically because Penelope slipped in a not-so-subtle comment about her dress being “a perfect match to the color of papaverales” - her words exactly. I thought if she went through that much trouble to find a color coordinated plant and say the scientific name for me to decode, it was worth picking up a bouquet of them on the way.

It was only the most ironic occurrence in the world that when I went to rearrange them one last time, I devoted my full attention to the action, missing the very moment I was on the lookout for the past hour and a half.

I didn’t even see her until the red poppies camouflaged into the identically colored setting of her dress.

Then there she was.

All the disappointment in the world was worth that first time I saw her with fresh eyes.

I was dumbstruck for a moment, long enough that it warranted an apology for not standing up sooner.

“(Y/n)! Hi!” I accidentally squealed. I couldn’t control myself, let alone control the pitch of my voice apparently.

I could see, in her, youthful naivete where, in others, I saw their age. She paradoxically had not aged a minute, and yet a new womanhood was piercing through her ultimately adolescent appearance.

“Hi, Dr. Reid,” She said through a laugh and a smile, shaking my hand politely and professionally. She was greeting me like I was still her professor and she’d just happen to run into me on an errand. Next, she’d be attempting small-talk for as long as it took for me to let her go.

Unfortunately for her, I had no plans for that.

But I’m confident when I’m with you

“Please, it’s just Spencer,” I reminded her, hoping to break down that governing image of me she surely maintained.

“Spencer,” She tried again; doing it more to be obedient to my instruction than to satisfy her own desire. It sounded so unnatural to her, just as it did to me. I found it adorable, actually. It seemed like she was breaking this unspoken, and very much illusionary rule to say my first name. “It’s nice to see you again,” She added after I pulled out her chair for her.

“Is it?” I asked when I rounded the table to get to my seat. “I get the feeling you’re a little disappointed.” The only reason I pointed it out was that it was true, not just that I’d observed the notion grow more poignant in her face for the past minute.

“Not at all,” She shook her head, which luckily for me, drew a line of congruence between her body language and verbal language. At least, she was being truthful. “It’s just that I’m sort of embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” I repeated in astonishment, unable to cultivate a list of reasons that would justify her feeling that way. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to provoke that emotion, and it nearly broke me to consider her internal being substantiating it.

“Embarrassed isn’t the right word, but I can’t find a more accurate one for what I’m feeling,” She shied away from my eyes when she lowered her head as she spoke.

“You could try to explain it to me?” I offered gently. It took an overwhelming amount of self-restraint to not offer my hand with it. It would’ve been so easy to slide my hand across the threshold to enter her territory of the table, but who knows if doing so would just make her that much more uncomfortable.

“Well for one thing, I don't really go on dates,” From this alone, I could already relate to her enough to laugh at the fact. “Don’t laugh at me! You know how dangerous first dates can be,” She swatted her hand in my direction to chastise me.

“I do! I do! I think it’s really good that you’re protecting yourself to the point of avoiding dates,” I was teasing the implication that she wasn’t asked to go on very many, which was thankfully delivered well enough to make her laugh again.

“Hey! Many people have wanted to go on dates with me, thank you very much. You included.”

“Me included.” I nodded in approval. We sat in a short period of silence while we exchanged one soulful glance, borne from the insinuation of what I just said.

“And for another ... I respect you too much as a figure of authority to see you in that way.”

_ _ _

“In what way?”

Rather than tossing me a lifeline, he was feeding me to the sharks. Forcing me to dive into the deep end. He wanted to see me struggle to stay afloat in the sea of his sticky toffee eyes. He knew I'd get suspended in them when he gave me that look. How much I’d be willing to get lost in them just so I could wander in the depths of his honeyed orbs for a little bit longer.

That look ...

“You don’t find it weird?” This was the most honesty I could’ve demonstrated.

“Find what weird?” For someone with such a high IQ, you’d think he’d be quicker on his feet.

“This! You - me. On a date!” I gestured to the space between us. “You’re ... well frankly, Spencer, you’re old enough to be my father.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He genuinely cared about the answer.

“Only in theory. Not in actual life,” was the most precise response I could give.

“So what is making you uncomfortable?” Again, I could tell my answer mattered to him.

“You were my professor once, and now I’m just supposed to go on a date with you and see you as my equal when I’ve spent the entire time I’ve known you, putting you on a pedestal? Do you know how much pressure that puts on me? To be perfect?”

“Who says you have to be perfect? Who says you’re aren’t already?”

That one caught me off guard. I had to gulp down the lump of shock.

“You think I’m perfect?”

“That, or you’re pretty close to it.”

Lately all I feel is bad and bruised

I could’ve smiled, I could’ve thanked him, I could’ve fallen at his feet and thrown my dignity down there along with it, but I just laughed. I laughed.

“That’s ridiculous! You barely know me.”

“You’re wrong,” He simply replied with a firm shake of his head and a cavalier sip at his drink. It showed just how confident he was in his answer. How cocky he was.

“How am I wrong?”

He cleared his throat as though he were preparing to deliver the world’s greatest speech. Then, he leaned forward, motioning with his fingers for me to do the same.

“If I’m remembering correctly, which you know I am, you were the student who had the gall to raise your hand and correct me on my gender identification of the unsub, right?”

The second the sentimental thought, ‘aww he remembered’, came into my head, it was soon followed by, of course, he did, idiot. Eidetic memory, remember?

Tired of tripping on my shoes

“What does that have to do with me being perfect? Or so you claim?”

He was piercing deep into my eyes now, his gaze overwhelming my senses and sending shockwaves akin to the feeling of butterflies everywhere … and I mean everywhere.

“Bravery is the audacity to be unhindered by failures, and to walk with freedom, strength, and hope, in the face of things unknown.”

I recognized the quote as one of Morgan Harper Nichols, but the words went right to my chest like they were his own.

That damn wildfire just got a whole lot bigger.

“I’ve always thought about how if I could be unfazed by failure or even just the prospect of it, if I could just be strong enough or have enough hope to face what I couldn’t predict, I’d be set. I’d be golden,” He paused. “I’d be perfect ... but you? You, little one, have already got that figured out. So whether that means you’re perfect on your own because of your bravery or you're a perfect match for someone fainthearted like me, is up for you to decide. Whichever interpretation of being perfect you choose would be correct, but you should know - I meant both either way.”

But when he loves me I feel like I’m floating

When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody

Even when we fade eventually to nothing

You will always be my favorite form of loving

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked when he finally refound his voice.

“Since the minute I walked in.” I replied after refinding mine.

_ _ _

“You always take girls to your apartment on the first date, Doctor?” Asking this in the name of taking a jab at him was the most clever way I could think to conceal my underlying motive of trying to gauge how giddy I could let myself feel about the fact that he’d taken me to his ‘super chic dark academia’ themed residence - Penelope’s words, remember?

“Well, in my abundant dating history,” He sarcastically began, “I can’t say I ever have, no. You’d be the first.”

That shot another quick bolt of lightning to the wildfire in my heart that I’m ashamed to admit made the heat reinvigorate. The flame must’ve been too much for my chest to contain so it had to relocate to my face, where my cheeks were left to burn under his gaze and thanks to his admission.

I was the first.

He must’ve seen the glint localizing on my countenance and decided to speak on it. “Why does that amuse you?”

“I don’t know,” I dumbly but truthfully replied. He didn’t need any more information to get his answer, though. Because even if I didn’t know what amused me about being his first, I never denied that it did, and that was more than enough confirmation for him.

“You promise to be here when I come back?” He wagged a cautionary finger at me like it might persuade me to stay and hold me accountable if I didn’t.

Spencer needed to go into his room to collect an item that ‘shall not be named’ but was apparently essential for our super secret plans tonight (secret to even me) and he was leaving me in the living room while he did so. I guess being the initial girl he took home on a first date was okay, but being the initial girl he took into his bedroom on a first date was crossing a line.

That was alright with me, though. I was in this for the long haul.

“I promise I pose no flight risk, Your Honor,” I taunted with a coy tone. “But I can’t promise I won’t snoop around some.” Hey, at least I was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

“Snoop around all you want,” He laughed ruefully, demonstrating an openness I quite envied and admired. “You’ll probably learn a lot about me that way. And you won’t even have to talk to me to do that!” I knew he was only saying that out of self-deprecating tendencies he harbored, but I couldn’t help feeling that a small part of him actually believed that I wasn’t interested in talking to him.

“Spencer, you know I do like talking to you right?” I caught him just before he ran into his room. Already halfway in the door, I could still catch the megawatt smile on his face.

“So stay then,” His smile grew impossibly bigger. “We can talk all you want when I get back.”

The door closed, and then suddenly reopened to let just his face through, a face that said, ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

After a few minutes of loudly sorting through his room, I heard the sanctimonious cry of victory. “Found it!”

I could hear the little pad of his feet and he happily trotted out of the room. “Ta-da! My stargazing kit.” He said it as though he were introducing the basket he was holding to me, and me to it. Like it was a real person he wanted me to know. I almost felt obliged to say, ‘Hi stargazing kit! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m (y/n)!’

“Let’s go,” He smiled, reaching for my hand.

I unabashedly took it, because although it meant that I was truly leaving his apartment, I had a very strong feeling that I would be back here again one day.

_ _ _

We were lying there on this big quilted comforter that was stashed away in that stargazing kit of his, staring up at the sky, drunk on the sound of our occasional fits of laughter.

“It’s Earth Day, you know that?” I wondered aloud in a state of complete euphoria.

“I actually did,” He said through a sheepish laugh, almost as if he was admitting the knowledge of it against his own will to protect my fragility.

From out of nowhere, there was a small tug on the skirt of my dress. I looked down to find Spencer’s hand there, playing with the fabric until it lay perfectly on my leg.

I coughed to possibly relieve the tension brewing in my loins. “So then you know the Lyrid meteor shower is tonight,” I moved the tiniest bit closer to lean into his touch.

“At exactly 4:33 a.m,�� He moved too.

“Is that why you brought me here? To watch the shooting stars? To make a wish?” I thought for a second that I would appear exceedingly childish - more so than I already did being 21 years his junior. But he didn’t judge me at all for the kid-like notion of making a wish on a shooting star or the implication that I still believed in those things.

In fact, I piqued his curiosity, telling by the way he moved only his head to the side to watch my reaction. “Say I did. What would you wish for?”

In the throws of dreamy elation, I softly murmured the only honest answer. “To be older. But not the unfulfilling 9 to 5, loveless marriage, ‘I do my taxes for fun’ older. I want to be old in the ways that the stars and the sky are old. I want to be infinite.”

“...To be infinite.” He whispered my wish back, sounding sort of in awe of me.

Just then, the overhead horizon grew larger. With no buildings or people to block the view, it was just us, the stars, and the sky. I could actually feel that I was lying on a planet. It was so wide. So infinite.

“Can I hold your hand?” I asked softly, in a manner so vulnerable it scared me.

Without any words or hesitation, he put my hand in his.

“The universe seems so big right now. I just needed something to hold onto.” I explained quietly, practically with the hopes that he wouldn’t hear me. But he heard.

“I’m here.”

We didn’t know what was ahead of us then. We were just two people, looking up at the sky on a cold February night. We weren’t divided by power, or age, or space. We were ourselves and no one else.

My eyes fluttered shut again and a smile stretched across my face. “Stargazing was a good idea.”

The world and the sky and the stars and I - we were all infinite. I couldn’t have felt bigger in my own body. In the best way possible, I was taking up so much space. I was occupying the earth. I was made up of matter. I mattered.

Just as I began to open my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a fading shooting star. Though I had wished to be older, I still felt like a child. Then it hit me. I didn’t feel older because I wasn’t older.

I was infinite.

Yes, I was a child, but not in the pinch your cheeks, bottles and pacifiers, babyish way. I was a child in the ‘you have a life full of possibilities ahead of you’ way.

You are young. He tells me with his eyes. And that is a good thing. Be forever young.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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