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wandussyfantasy · 13 hours

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I'm Yours

Request from anon: i also have more ideas along their universe where they continue to hook up (behind pietro’s back) and wanda thinks it’s not serious (she wants it to be but is afraid of saying anything thinking reader just wants to be casual) but reader thinks they’re exclusive. maybe wanda sees reader talking to an ex and mentions thinking of going out with some guy and reader is all confused and offended like why would you talk to me about planning to cheat on me? and they have a legit convo about being together exclusively

Summary: Part 2 to You Suck, Let's Fuck. Y/n is addicted to Wanda and assumes that they are together. Wanda is afraid to allow herself to fall for Y/n and convinces herself that they are just having fun.

Pairings: Wanda x NB!AMAB!Reader

Word Count: 3,621

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!! smut, gn!reader amab, powerbottom!wanda, fingering, dirty talk, fluff, masturbation, oral, sex toys, public touching, fantasies, and teasing.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

You are laying in your bed scrolling through emails when there's a knock on your door. You look up to see Pietro standing in the doorway. “Hey, have you heard back from any more sponsors?”

You nod, “Looking through the offers now.”

“Okay, cool. I'll see you in a few hours. I've classes to get to,” Pietro says as he walks away. You nod and listen carefully to him leaving. When you hear the front door slam shut, you jump out of your bed and walk over to Wanda’s room. Her door is shut and you can hear a soft buzz when you press your ear against the wooden door.

You crack the door open and watch as she uses the vibrator that you gave her several nights ago. You slip your fingers into the elastic waistband of your sweatpants and start to rub your dick while you watch her. She is so pretty as she writhes on her bed. She is half naked with her shirt pushed up from playing with her breasts. You lick your lips as you remember her taste.

You knock on the door and watch her jump with wide eyes. You open the door further and she lets her head fall back as she relaxes. “You're a little shit for that!” She sighs as she continues to move the toy in and out of her hole.

You chuckle as you lock the door behind you. With your hands on your hips, you stand in front of her with your erection creating a tent with your sweatpants. “Your brother is gone for the day. I have a couple of hours to spare,” you say as you step closer to her bed. “And I can't stop thinking about you.”

You walk to the side of her bed and Wanda watches you with each step. She continues to pump the vibrator in and out of her pussy. Staring at your erection the entire time. She bites her lips as she remembers having them wrapped around your shaft. You lift her hand up from the bed and watch her reaction. Her big green eyes drop to your hand as it guides her smaller hand to your waist, her eyes bounce to meet yours and she nods once. You push your sweatpants down enough for your dick to pop out. You guide her hand and wrap it around your dick. You moan at the feeling of her soft hand pulling on your hard dick.

You reach over and take control over the vibrator. You pull it out and press it against her cliterous. Her legs move from the pleasure and you smile.

“I have a condom,” you whisper.

“Isn't that nice,” Wanda says as she adjusts her hand.

“Can we?” You ask as you pull the condom package out of your pocket and toss it on her belly.

“I don't know,” she says. “Do you have your test results?” Wanda had asked you to get tests done and show them to her. She said that if she was going to ever have sex with you again, she had to know that you were clean. She said this when she snuck into your room a few nights ago while the two of you were making out. You assured her that you're always safe but she wanted proof.

You pull up the email that you were looking for and show her the clean bill of health. “I'm good to go,” you say with a wink.

Wanda takes your phone and starts to read through the results. You mess with her by pressing the vibrator into her cliterous harder, distracting her with pleasure. “Stop that,” she gasps out. You laugh as you stop. She scrolls through and is satisfied with the results. She sets your phone aside and grabs the condom package. She tears it open and pulls the condom out. “We have to hurry, you have time but I don't.”

You nod and climb on top of her. “I can be quick.”

“How charming,” she says breathlessly. Her mouth falls open as you shove your dick inside of her. It makes you smile. After years of doing everything to get her to shut up, you should have known that your dick was the best option. You pound into her as you suck on her neck. “Not too hard, ah,” she hisses. “Don't leave a mark. I don't want mmmph questions,” she has her hands on your shoulders to lightly push you back.

“You can be quite bossy in bed, you know that right?” you chuckle into her ear. “Relax, baby.”

“Don't call me baby,” Wanda groans as she grabs your shirt. Her thighs hold you tight as you slow your thrusts.

“What can I call you? You've turned down every pet name,” you ask as you start to kiss her chest.

“Mommy isn't a pet name, it's a turn off,” she grouches.

“Nat certainly didn't think so,” you wiggle your eyebrows at her.

“Don't mention… oh fuuuck,” her toes curl as you press the vibrator against her cliterous causing her to reach her climax. Her grip on your cock has you following her, filling the condom with each jagged thrust into her.

Wanda’s legs shake as you overstimulate her by keeping the vibrator on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

You pull out and fall next to her on the bed. “I think you're probably the best sex I've ever had,” you admit in your post orgasm haze. You want to tell her that you love her and that you want to only be with her for as long as you lived but that sounded like too much. So you told her in the only way you know how.

“That's what you consider your best?” She scoffs sarcastically but she couldn't believe she just came as hard as she did. But she knew if she wanted to keep having these private sessions with you, she had to make you want to come back to her for more.

“You've had better?” You ask, a little hurt by her words.

“I've had longer,” she says as she looks at you, her eyes trying to read your face.

“That's not fair, you said you wanted a quickie,” you defend yourself as you sit up.

“Right well, I suppose we'll just have to figure out a way for you to really show me what you can do,” she climbs out of bed and pulls on her underwear. “I'll see you later,” she walks out of the room and you throw your head back onto her mountain of pillows.

••••

You are at a party yet again. That's all anyone can do for fun on the weekends in a small college town like Westview. You are watching Wanda from a distance, trying to play it cool. You've slept with her almost every chance you've gotten and it's killing you how addictive she is. But you know that you shouldn't be doing this. Not to Pietro's sister. He's told you many times over the years to not mess with his sister.

You don't want to lose his friendship. He means a lot to you but unfortunately, his sister means the world to you.

“Hey you,” a familiar voice steals your attention from Wanda. She was laughing with her friends, she was safe. You turn to the only person you've attempted to give your heart to. “Miss me?” She smiles at you with her hand on your bicep.

“Raven,” you say with a sigh. “It's been a while. What brings you around?”

“Oh, you know,” she tips her head in the direction of her girlfriend Jean Grey who is setting up with her band. “When the frats want to pay a bunch of pretty lesbians to entertain them, we are there.” She dances her fingers up your arm making you laugh.

Wanda can hear your laugh from where she stands and her heart tightens at the sight of you flirting with your ex-girlfriend. She can't remember why the two of you broke up in the first place. By the looks of things, neither of you can remember either. She quickly looks away as she reminds herself that even with how much attention you've been giving her, it's just fun. It's nothing serious between the two of you.

“I think you've accomplished your mission,” you tell Raven as you see Jean fuming on the stage.

Raven follows your eye line and blows a kiss in her girlfriend's direction. She turns to you, “Not quite yet. She’s in really big trouble,” Raven puts her hand on your chest and looks you in the eyes. You know the kinds of games she plays and you typically didn't care about being a piece in them but you have Wanda now. You grab Raven by the wrist and take her hand off of you.

“You need to talk to her about that,” you say as you step away. You look in the direction you last saw Wanda and slightly panic when you don't see her or her friends. “I have to go,” you excuse yourself to go searching for Wanda. You weave through the crowded house in search of her.

She finds you before you can find her. She pulls you into a room before anyone can see and locks the door. You want to say something but she gets down on her knees and pulls your soft dick out before you can say anything. She spits on her hand and starts to stroke you. “Fuck Wanda,” you groan as you grow hard in her hand.

She doesn't look at you until she takes your cock into her mouth. She knows how much eye contact drives you crazy when she's sucking you off. “Fuck Wanda,” you repeat as you thrust your hips forward. She pushes you back against the wall. She undoes your pants and lets them drop. She slips her fingers inside of your pussy.

She was surprised to discover that you had one. You had shrugged it off as it's not the first thing people see when your pants come off so you typically don't call attention to it. That night she used a strap-on to fuck your hole. Thankfully, Pietro was spending the night at his new girlfriend's house that night because neither of you could keep yourselves quiet.

As she pumps her fingers inside of you, your cock grows harder and you can feel yourself getting close. You try to warn her but she keeps on working you until you cum into her mouth. In the time that the two of you have been together, she has refused to drink your cum. Not that you ever expected her to. But seeing her swallow every spurt without her cheeks puffing or a drop leaking or her choking. She maintains eye contact the entire time. Making your mind spin.

She pulls her mouth off of your cock with a pop and removes her fingers from inside of you. She licks her fingers clean and it has you wanting so much more from her.

••••

The two of you are laying in her bed cuddling. She's on her period and not in the mood to have sex but you don't mind. You enjoy her company. Especially since Pietro is gone for a week because he wanted to go to a big gaming convention. You would have gone too but you had exams that you conveniently forgot to ask for an extension on from your professors. You knew that Pietro would have a lot more fun taking his girlfriend than he would with you. Besides, you've been to those things every year since you were eighteen. Missing one year didn't matter much when you got to be free to be with Wanda.

You haven't slept in your own bed since Pietro left. It was great to get to know Wanda outside of what made her scream. In an annoying sense or otherwise.

“I have a question,” Wanda states as she pops a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth.

“Ask away,” you answer with your attention on her TV.

“I'm not really good when it comes to asking people out and you're kind of an expert. I was wondering if you could give me some tips because there's this guy in my business class that I've kind of been interested in,” she continues to eat popcorn as if her question wasn't a big deal.

You scowl as you give her your full attention. Then your features relax as you realize that it's most likely a joke. “You're funny. You almost had me Wanda,” you shake your head and kiss her cheek. “Is this one of those TikTok trends?”

Wanda laughs, confused by your response, “No? What? You don't think I could pull someone other than you?”

You scowl again, “It's not that I don't think that you're capable, it's more like I don't get why you would want to.”

Wanda pauses the show and scoffs as she looks at you, “Come on. Are you being serious?” You make no mention of joking and she rolls her eyes. “Look, I'm having a lot of fun with you. I am. But I don't want to be just another one of your booty calls forever. I'd like to actually date someone and build a relationship.”

Her words hit you hard in your chest and you feel yourself grow nauseous. “I didn't realize that I was just fun for you.”

Wanda freezes at your hurt expression, not sure what she said to get you to react in such a way. “I'm not an idiot. You don't do relationships, I get it. It's not fair that you can screw around with other people and I'm spending my time with just you. And what we've been doing has been nice but, but, but, I'm only human and before I develop feelings for you, I'd rather move on. You and my brother have been friends for years and I'd hate to be the reason that-”

“I don't care about that right now! I've hidden behind that friendship for too damn long,” you take her hand in yours. It is important that she knows that you're not trying to string her along. “I love you, Wanda! I've loved you for a long time. Before we even started doing what we're doing.”

She looks at you with pure disbelief. “What? No. That's not true. You, you, you don't love anyone. Nat and Carol and everyone else you've slept with has told me so! They've warned me about you. That you don't care about anyone and I'm better off for not having fallen for your tricks. Of course, they don't know about what we've been doing but they've all said it.”

“Wanda, I never loved any of those girls because I've always been in love with you. They were all just distractions because of Pietro. He told me that if I ever tried anything with you, not only would he cut me out of his life but he'd kill me. You know what? The time that I've had with you, I'd be fine losing him. Because I want to love you for as long as you'll let me.”

Wanda is quiet for a long time. Her heart believes you but her head has doubts. “Why now?” She asks in a small voice.

“Because I'm an idiot,” you admit. “An idiot who is madly in love with you.”

Wanda pulls you down to kiss you on your lips. The popcorn bowl spills all over the bed and onto the floor. The two of you laugh but pay no attention to it. As she kisses you, she flips the two of you so that your back is against the cushions. “I love you too,” Wanda says as she straddles your lap and starts to rub against your cock.

You kiss her with a passion you didn't know that you had in you as she continues to dry hump you. She moves her hips in a way that rolls your eyes to the back of your head. Your cock comes to life under the pressure of her crotch rubbing up against you. She starts to suck on your neck. “Harder,” you whisper because you don't get questions when you have hickies. You want her to mark you. To claim you.

The friction of her rubbing against you causes you to start moaning. You want to be inside of her so bad but the want makes it that much better because you can't have it. She moves her mouth to the other side of your neck to mark you there. She wants everyone to see that you're not available. That of all of the people who you could have chosen, you chose her. She loves you and you love her. You finally love her. Or you finally admit to loving her.

“I’ve been dying to hear you say that for so long,” she whispers against your lips. She bucks her hips forward and you let out a strangled moan. “I love you too,” she kisses you on the lips as she pulls down your shorts.

“I thought… you’re on your period,” you say as Wanda lowers herself down your body.

“But my mouth isn’t,” she says teasingly with a wink. You start to laugh but it quickly turns into a moan as she takes your throbbing cock into her mouth. She uses both of her hands to pump your dick as she sucks on the senstive tip. Then she deep throats you.

“Good girl,” you praise as she takes most of your cock into her mouth without gagging. Wanda rolls her eyes and pulls her mouth off of you.

“You watch too much porn,” she says as she strokes your dick.

“That’s true,” you nod, “and you’re a good girl.”

“Stop,” she tries to hide her smile.

You thrust your hips up into her hand. You want to be inside of her so bad. You want to fuck her raw. You want to… “Ooohh fuuuck!!” You cum into Wanda’s hand, surprising the both of you. Of course you came to the idea of seeing her pussy leaking with your cum. Your cock twitches at the idea of eating your cum out of her pussy.

Wanda smirks and looks at you teasingly, “Good girl.”

••••

“Do we really need to do this?” You ask halfway through your two hour drive to a restaurant in a town where you and Wanda don’t know anyone.

“You said that you wanted to be exclusive and to be dating but that you’re not ready to tell Pietro yet. And until we tell Pietro, we can’t risk anyone else finding out about us. So,” she argues. The both of you were driving in separate cars because it seemed less suspicious. You even planned to come home at different times tomorrow. This hiding thing was starting to feel like a lot of work but Wanda is worth the trouble.

“Okay, okay,” you grumble.

When the two of you arrive in the small town, you meet at the hotel. You were planning on taking her to a nice dinner but when you saw her in the hotel room, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to fuck her on the bed, in the chair in the corner, against the bathroom sink, in the shower, against the windows, on the balcony, and even on the floor.

The two of you are laying in post coital bliss in each others arms. “If I had known that loving you was going to be this amazing, I would have done it sooner.”

Wanda smile up at you and shakes her head slightly, “You forget, I kissed you once and you turned me away.”

“What? No I didn’t. When?”

“Prom night, we were both pretty drunk. You took my friend, um, Jennifer to the dance. I believe you and Raven had broken up, yet again.” Wanda laughs a bit at her comment on your on and off again relationship with Raven. You nod as you follow along with Wanda’s story, remembering the details that she is sharing.

“Yeah, yeah, there was an after party at your family’s lake house right?”

“Yes, and we had a moment alone by the water. It was actually one of our rare moments of not trying to kill each other. Honestly, even with the way it ended it’s still one of my fondest memories of you,” she admits as she traces shapes on your bare chest.

“I’m kind of remembering it. We were down by the water, the canoe was next to us. It was pretty dark but the moon was shining pretty bright. I remember the water and I think one of us said something about how calm it was.”

“Right, you said that. Amongst a few other deep things that made me see you as someone other than my brother’s slutty best friend,” she says as she leans into your touch. “I had a crush on you for a long time but that night I think is when I really started to fall for you. I kissed you and you pulled away faster than anyone ever had before. You didn’t say anything, you just got up and left. Then you pretended that I didn’t exist until halfway through freshman year when I started bringing around all of my pretty friends.”

You sigh as you remember your behavior. “I’m sorry. There’s no excuse other than being a young scared idiot. But regardless, I am truley sorry.”

Wanda shrugs, “It’s okay. I still love you.”

You grin, her words causing your entire body to tingle, “I love you too.”

#smut #wanda fanfic #wanda smut #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #thanks anon!#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wandusssyfantasy answers

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ssailormoonn · 2 days

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❛ Enemies to lovers ❜

Uchiha Sasuke X Fem!Reader

| SFW | REQUEST? yes | ! headcanons !

REQUEST :: @bejeweledgirl - Hiiii!! Could you please write Sasuke x reader enemies to lovers head canons? Thank you !!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

a/note :: also, Julie, by any chance do we follow each other on wattpad, or am i tweaking? but other than that, i hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

WC; 1.6k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; sasuke is a trigger warning by himself, not anything suggestive but sasuke is mean guys bsf. Prerouge!Sasuke X fem!Reader & Rouge!Sasuke X fem!Reader

NARUTO MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Konoha path (before he leaves the village - meeting him in Konoha)

If we are talking about how you two meet in Konoha, it will have to start back at the Academy. Sasuke absolutely hated you for no absolute reason, but then he grew a reason, he thought you were weak and were a nuisance. He believes that you shouldn't even belong in the Academy. In truth, you are quite strong, but he refuses to see that because he is convinced that you are below him.

It started with you two getting put on the same team, Team 7, and then that just made him realise that your abilities weren't so useless after all, but he still believed that you were weak and had no business being a ninja. This caused you to begin to hate him as well, you started hating his cold demeanour and how avenging his clan and getting stronger was his entire personality.

But, despite your mutual disdain, there were moments when you couldn't help but admire his skill and dedication. During battles, you found yourselves instinctively covering each other's backs, an unspoken acknowledgment of each other's abilities. Even after those moments though, you two will go back to silently hating each other, Sasuke more openly than you.

Sasuke's mentality is, 'I have to keep eyes on her because she is too weak to be left on her own devices.' Yours is, 'I don't understand why he thinks I'm so weak, maybe I have to show my teamwork better.'

These fleeting instances of teamwork made you question the depth of your animosity. During combat you two seem almost friendly with each other, but that isn't the case. It's because of the both of yours mentality that you seek each other out during battle., unconsciously protecting each other. Yet, outside of combat, the icy barrier between you remains impenetrable.

However, during the time he is in Team 7, you noticed the way his gaze lingered on you after the battles longer than necessary, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes whenever he thought no one was watching.

There was one mission that Sasuke had to react in a way different that before, making sure that your weak ass didn't get hurt. It was during one particularly grueling mission that everything changed. Trapped and outnumbered, you sustained a severe injury. Sasuke's reaction was immediate and his protective instinct overpowering his usual detachment.

Sasuke fought with an emotion you had never seen, he ensured your safety, befiore his own which after the mission he bet himself over with. Sasuke had wasted precious time to save you during a mission? Impossible? He unconsciously knew that you were weak and helped you before you got killed.

You were surprised, obviously, you thought you were going to die.

After that mission, the dynamic between you two shifted. Sasuke, while still reserved, began to seek you out during training sessions, his critiques less harsh and more constructive. In some occasions, he'd even ask you for some help, but he was obviously abrasive about it.

The banter that once felt hostile now carried an undercurrent of mutual respect and both you and Sasuke found yourself looking forward to these moments. The trust that developed was tentative, but it was there, a fragile bridge spanning the gap between enemies and allies.

As you spent more time together, you uncovered layers of Sasuke's personality that he rarely revealed. His dry sense of humor, the way his eyes softened when he briefly mentioned something about his past (whether it was something bad or good), and his unwavering determination to protect those he cared about.

The transformation in your relationship became undeniable; the animosity that once defined your interactions was replaced by a deep, unspoken bond. You realised that the line between enemies and lovers is often thinner than it seems, and sometimes, the most profound connections are forged in the crucible of shared struggles and quiet understanding.

It was only so close before Sasuke left the village, and in the end, what began as a hating for each other, turned into something far more complex. Sasuke's journey towards redemption mirrored your own path to understanding and acceptance.

It was after Sasuke told you what his goal was to do, that he wanted to leave the village to find power and you understood him for that. You didn't try your hardest to bring him back to the village, you didn't shed any tears because this is what Sasuke truly wanted, you were going to acknowledge. Right there and then, when you spoke about how you felt, he swore something heating grew inside him.

You weren't going to be mad at him, not yell at him for his decision.

Rouge Ninja path (after he left the village - meeting him while he's a rouge)

You met Uchiha Sasuke under the worst circumstances. Freshly allied with Orochimaru, you were tasked with monitoring him, a job you found as intriguing as it was dangerous. Sasuke, ever brooding and aloof, made it clear he despised every second of your company.

To him, you were an unwanted shadow, a reminder of his own perceived failures and entanglements. You, on the other hand, found a strange enjoyment in teasing him, perhaps as a way to mask your own insecurities. It wasn’t long before you realised that your constant presence irked him to no end.

From the moment you met, there was an electric tension between you two. You could see it in the way his eyes narrowed whenever you entered the room, the tight set of his jaw when you spoke.

"You're in my way," he'd mutter, his voice laced with venom. Yet, you never backed down. If anything, you pushed harder, finding joy in the cracks of his icy demeanor. "Is that so, Sasuke? Or do you just hate that I'm not afraid of you?"

Every mission together was a battle of wits. You were skilled, undeniably so, and it grated on Sasuke's nerves. He couldn't stand the way you seemed to predict his moves, the way you challenged his decisions. But more than that, he hated how your presence made him feel – conflicted.

There was a part of him that begrudgingly respected your strength and wit, even if he would never admit it. You could tell in the way his eyes would flicker with something akin to appreciation when you executed a flawless jutsu or navigated a tricky situation with ease.

Despite the underlying tension, there were moments of surprising camaraderie. One evening, after a grueling training session, you found yourself sitting side by side (unintentionally of course), watching the sunset.

The silence was comfortable, a rare occurrence between you.

"Why did you join Orochimaru?" Sasuke asked suddenly, his voice softer than usual. You glanced at him, surprised by the question. "I have my reasons," you replied cryptically, your eyes fixed on the horizon. "Just like you."

The turning point came during a particularly brutal mission. Ambushed and outnumbered, you both found yourselves back-to-back, fighting for survival. In that moment, something shifted. You were no longer enemies, but reluctant allies.

Your synchronisation was flawless, an unspoken understanding passing between you. When the dust settled, and the enemies lay defeated, you turned to him, breathless and bruised. "Not bad, Sasuke," you said, a genuine smile breaking through your usual facade. For a split second, you thought you saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward.

From then on, the hostility between you lessened, replaced by a grudging respect. Sasuke still rolled his eyes at your antics, but you noticed the way his gaze lingered a little longer, the way he sometimes sought your opinion. The walls he built around himself were high, but you found satisfaction in every small crack you created.

And Sasuke, though he would never say it, found himself looking forward to your company, your banter, your presence.

There were times when the barrier between you seemed almost impenetrable. Sasuke's memories of his clan, his brother, and the darkness he embraced to gain power often made him withdraw. You understood pain and loss, having your own share of scars, and sometimes, in those rare, quiet moments, you shared pieces of your past with him. He listened, not always responding, but you knew he heard you. It was in those moments that the chasm between you seemed to narrow, ever so slightly.

It was during one quiet evening, as you both rested by a campfire, that the tension finally broke. You were teasing him about his brooding nature when he snapped, grabbing your wrist and pulling you close.

"Why do you always have to annoy me?" he demanded, his voice low and intense. You met his gaze, your heart pounding. "Maybe because I see something in you that you refuse to see in yourself," you whispered. His grip tightened for a moment, and then released, his expression unreadable.

In that moment, the distance between you evaporated. Sasuke's grip softened, his eyes searching yours. And then, before you knew it, his lips were on yours, fierce and demanding. It was a kiss filled with all the pent-up frustration, anger, and undeniable attraction that had been building between you. When you finally pulled away, both breathless, you saw a different look in his eyes – not just anger or annoyance, but something deeper, something you both had been denying for far too long.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotion. You and Sasuke continued to train and take on missions, but there was a new layer to your relationship. The stolen glances, the subtle touches, and the occasional tender moment when you thought no one else was watching.

Sasuke began to see that there was more to life than vengeance and power – there was companionship, trust, and maybe even love.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

NARUTO MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

UCHIHA MASTER LIST

taglist :: @enouche @lovelyandproblematic @kayleegomez

#sasuke x reader #uchiha sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke headcanons #naruto x reader #sasuke enemies to lovers

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forest-hashira · 1 day

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Noble Blood - Chapter Nine

…i really have no explanation for this. i would apologize for the long wait again, but this chapter really got away from me so i had to find a place to split it. again. because the events of chs 8, 9, & now 10 were all supposed to be one chapter. but it's already 14k between chs 8 & 9 so that just means more content for you guys! i make no promises for when ch10 will be done & posted, but i hope you guys enjoy this in the meantime! 💜

fic masterlist | read on ao3 | wc: ~6.9k | cw: gender neutral reader, part 2 of reader finding their dragon, satoru's dad being a dick, minor mentions of injury & blood, satoru being a bit of a brat

The demanding voice snapped you out of your near trance, and you stiffened, holding your new dragon a bit closer to your chest and looking over your shoulder at your friends, trying to gauge their levels of concern about all this. You watched as the boys shared a look, then glanced over at you. They didn’t say anything, but neither of them seemed particularly optimistic; Suguru watched the hallway anxiously as the hurried footsteps drew nearer, while Satoru looked around the stall you were all currently in, as if looking for some sort of escape route to miraculously get everyone out of the situation.

“I think if we hurry, we could climb out that window,” he suggested in a whisper, looking back down at you, his eyes wide.

“Toru, I can’t,” you whispered back, glancing down at the hatchling in your arms and then back up at him.

He followed your gaze, and his expression fell instantly. “Shit, yeah, that’s right. Uh, maybe we can—”

“You’re really saying a lot of swear words tonight.”

“First of all, I’ve only said ‘shit’ twice—”

“Three times now.”

“And second of all, that’s really not our biggest issue right now!”

“Guys, please,” Suguru hissed, but before any of you had a chance to say anything else, the light from the lanterns reached the stall you were all in; you were well and truly cornered now.

You clutched your hatchling closer to your chest, and you could feel your heart begin to pound harder against your ribs; you had no idea what was going to happen to all of you now, but you had a feeling it wasn’t going to be good.

“Who goes there?” a voice boomed again, and you recognized the head guard when he stepped into view. The man blinked in surprise when he saw your friends in the stall, clearly having expected intruders, but he didn’t send his men away. “Ah, Gojo-dono, Geto-san. What are you both doing here so late?”

The boys exchanged a look, not really sure what to say; apparently you still hadn’t been spotted, but it wasn’t likely that that would last long whether you willingly showed yourself or not.

“We came to see the hatchlings,” Suguru said after a beat; it wasn’t technically a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth, either.

The head guard’s expression pinched in confusion. “Could you not have waited until morning?” he asked. “One of my men thought you were intruders breaking in to steal the hatchlings. Surely it would have been better to be escorted here in the daylight?”

“I don’t need to be escorted anywhere on my own property,” Satoru bit out, and you blinked in shock at his tone; he’d certainly had his fair share of spoiled or bratty moments over the years, but he sounded genuinely angry as he spoke. “And no, it couldn’t have waited until morning, because we have company.”

He looked over his shoulder at you then, offering a small, encouraging nod when you hesitated. You offered a small nod in return, then carefully pushed yourself onto your feet. It took you a few moments, and it was wobbly and awkward trying to stand without using your hands, but thankfully both boys reached out to help you before you could fall and cause yourself any sort of embarrassment in front of the guards.

Once you stood and were finally in view of the guards that had come storming in, you saw some of them exchange looks; at least some of them certainly knew who you were and knew you weren’t supposed to be there. The head guard looked especially displeased, though when he noticed the hatchling in your hands – a metallic hatchling, nonetheless – he turned bright red, then slightly purple, then some other color you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to describe.

“Put that back where you found it,” he told you, anger apparent in his tone. All you could do in response was shake your head, too scared to speak aloud.

“They will be doing no such thing,” Satoru answered for you, his own anger also clear. “That is their dragon. Suguru and I watched the bond form.”

The guard began to tremble with anger at the words, but instead of saying anything else to you, he turned to his men. “You!” he barked, gesturing to two men in the back, both of whom stood up straighter upon being addressed. “Go and fetch Gojo-sama. Tell him it’s urgent, and has to do with an intruder and the hatchlings!”

“They are not an intruder!” Satoru practically shouted, and even Suguru was beginning to look angry as the men ran off to complete their task. “They are my friend, I invited them here to meet the hatchlings. They didn’t break into the estate.”

“Gojo-sama made it very clear—”

“I don’t care what my father said!” Your friend was actually shouting now, and you could hear dragons waking up in stalls all around you because of the noise. “And besides, the incident that my father is still so upset about was over three years ago, all three of us have grown up a lot since then. So if I want to invite my friend to my home, I’m going to do that, and you aren’t going to stop me.”

Every person in the building went dead silent after that, Satoru’s words and behavior hanging heavy in the air. You stared at him in slight disbelief; you couldn’t remember ever hearing him speak to anyone that way before, even when you were much younger and he was much brattier. You glanced over at Suguru after a moment, trying to gauge his reaction to Satoru’s outburst, but he looked just as shocked as you did when he met your gaze.

The head guard looked like he wanted to argue, insist that his job was to listen to Satoru’s father, not Satoru himself, but before he could say anything that might have escalated the confrontation with your friend, you could hear three sets of footsteps making their way towards you.

“What’s going on here?”

Gojo-sama’s voice was unmistakable, and you felt your blood run cold at the sound of it. He didn’t seem to like you under the best of circumstances, so you were certain he was going to be furious when he saw you.

“Gojo-dono and Geto-san came to see the hatchlings, Gojo-sama,” the head guard explained, giving the older man a slight bow. “And they brought their friend.”

The man arched a brow slightly at the statement as he came into view, and when he turned to peer into the stall, you felt as if you might be sick. You could tell the exact moment he saw you, because his expression tightened, as if he’d bitten into something sour. “Ah,” he sighed. “That friend.”

You wished with everything you had that the floor would open up and swallow you whole right then and there. That feeling only intensified when you saw Gojo-sama’s gaze drop to the hatchling in your hands, his eyes burning with anger at the sight.

“Put that hatchling back at once,” he commanded, glaring at you so hard you wondered if he were trying to incinerate you on the spot.

Despite your fear, you shook your head at him the same way you had the guard. The rage you saw simmering just below the surface of his face sent your whole body trembling, and your friends were quick to step fully in front of you.

“That’s their dragon, father,” Satoru said, calmer than the way he’d shouted just a few moments before. “We were standing here the whole time watching. We saw the bond form.”

Your friend’s father narrowed his eyes at his son, then briefly turned his attention to Suguru, as if expecting him to fold and say it was a lie. Suguru did no such thing, though you knew he was always careful to keep from upsetting the clan patriarch in any way.

“It’s true, Gojo-sama,” he said quietly.

Having clearly not gotten the response he wanted, the man turned to face the head guard. “Confiscate the hatchling and escort the child off my property. Restrain the boys if you have to.”

There were shouts of protest from your friends as the guards pushed forward to follow the order they’d just received, and you clutched your hatchling closer to your chest as the boys were pulled away from you, no match for the strength of the guards that held them even as they struggled to fight them off. Your hatchling let out a high, distressed cry as a guard grabbed your arm, and you swore you could feel her distress amplified a hundredfold in your chest, the feeling so intense it nearly sent you to your knees and drawing a cry from your own lips.

At almost the same moment, the mother dragon behind you roared, standing to her full height and stepping forward until you were beneath her, kneeling on the floor between her front legs. She snapped at the guard who had grabbed you, the man barely scrambling back in time to avoid being bitten, letting out a cry of fear as he retreated. She then set her sights on the four guards restraining your friends, growling at them angrily. You could feel her chest grow warmer above you, and you realized that she was preparing to breathe fire at them. The realization horrified you, yet it also brought you an odd sense of relief; even if it was only because you held her baby in your arms, she wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you.

Gojo-sama, who had turned away and begun to leave before the commotion started, stopped, taking in the scene curiously. He waved off the remaining guards in the stall, taking a few steps closer once they had released the boys. “How interesting…” he said, almost to himself.

As soon as they were free, your friends raced over to you, the mother dragon not even giving them a second glance as they came to kneel on either side of you, looking you over to make sure you were alright. You assured them you were fine, though you were still trembling slightly in your spot on the floor.

“All three of you, on your feet.”

You, Satoru, and Suguru all looked up at Gojo-sama as he spoke; he was clearly speaking to all of you, but somehow it didn’t quite seem like he was.

“Come with me,” he commanded, turning and beginning to walk away again, clearly expecting all of you to follow at his heels. “There is much to be discussed.”

After exchanging uncertain looks, the boys once again helped you from the floor, and the three of you rushed to catch up. With every step, you felt your anxiety grow in the pit of your stomach; you still had your dragon in your arms, which seemed promising, but there was no telling where the Gojo clan head was taking you, or what he would do when you got there.

Despite the late hour, there were still a fair amount of the staff up and about, and you could feel their eyes on you as you walked through the halls, doing your best to keep up with Gojo-sama’s long legs. Their gazes weighed heavily on you, and you could tell when each of them saw the hatchling you carried, their gasps of surprise and whispers between each other unmistakable; it was almost a relief when you were ushered into a private room with your friends, the door clicking shut behind you.

You stood as still as possible, barely daring to breathe as Gojo-sama circled around to stand in front of the three of you. You avoided his gaze, partially out of respect for his high rank of authority in the settlement, partially because the man terrified you more than anything else had up to this point in your life. When he said your name, you flinched, but lifted your head anyways, meeting his gaze with no small amount of anxiety.

“Yes, Gojo-sama?”

“Did you come to my estate tonight on your own?”

You shook your head, unable to find your voice again just yet.

“Who did you come here with, then?”

“S-Satoru and… and Suguru, Gojo-sama.”

“I see. Why did they bring you here?”

“To see the hatchlings, Gojo-sama.”

“Why?”

You could feel yourself beginning to tremble once again, and you burned with embarrassment at his question. “Because my twelfth birthday is in a few weeks and I still hadn’t met my dragon, Gojo-sama.”

“And what makes you think that hatchling in your hands is your dragon?”

It took a moment for his words to sink in, and you blinked dumbly at him as you tried to come up with an acceptable answer. “Because… I felt it, Gojo-sama, in my chest. I know this dragon is mine.”

His expression was displeased as he looked down at you. “You think this dragon is yours just because you feel in your heart that it should be?” The tone he used dripped with condescension, and it sharpened your fear into anger.

“No, not in my heart,” you corrected. “In my chest, exactly as I was told I would when I met and bonded with my dragon. I’m not a baby trying to live out some silly daydream. I don’t want my dragon to be special. If I was going to lie and try to steal a hatchling from you, I would have chosen one that didn’t draw so much attention.” By the time you had finished speaking, your expression had darkened until you were glaring up at the man, still trembling but feeling more defiant than scared.

“Remember who you’re speaking to,” he warned, which only made you angrier.

“I couldn’t possibly forget who I’m speaking to, Gojo-sama. I know that you dislike me, that you think I’m a bad influence on Satoru, but that doesn’t mean you get to bully me into giving you something that isn’t yours just because you want it.”

When the man arched a brow, the words you’d just said fully sank in for you, but you knew there was no taking them back now. Besides that, though, you meant them, even if you were mildly horrified that you’d actually said them out loud. “Why would I need to bully you, a child, into giving me anything when I can just take it from you?” he asked.

Before you fully comprehended what was happening, Gojo-sama reached out and made to grab for your dragon, clearly meaning to take her from you for good. Thankfully, despite not even being twenty-four hours old, she was quick to realize the situation. She hissed at the man, and when that didn’t stop him, she bit down hard on the side of his hand, breaking through the skin and sending blood dripping onto the floor in seconds.

He swore loudly, tearing his hand away and glaring at the hatchling. It was silent for a moment, and you clutched your dragon closer to your chest as you stared at Gojo-sama’s hand, blood dripping slowly from the wound and onto the floor. You could feel how tense your friends were on either side of you, but none of you dared to move or speak.

“Very well then.” By the time you dared to look at Gojo-sama’s face again, he had schooled his features into as neutral of an expression as he could. “It seems you are not, in fact, lying about your bond with this hatchling, as loath as I may be to admit it.” He let out a long sigh, looking you up and down for a moment, before silently making his mind up about something. “All three of you off to bed at once. You’ll remain here for the bonding period, after that we can discuss the possibility of sending you home.”

Not daring to argue, you nodded, bowing to him and chorusing a “Yes, Gojo-sama” with Suguru, Satoru mumbling a “Yes, father,” on your right. The three of you hurried out of the room then, eager to be away from the intimidating aura of the clan head as quickly as possible.

Once the door shut behind you, you let out a long, shaky sigh. “I can’t believe he’s letting me keep her.”

“I can’t believe he’s not letting you go home,” Satoru replied, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as the three of you made your way back to the quarters he shared with Suguru.

You couldn’t help but lean into him, all your energy seemingly left in the room with your friend’s father. “My mom’s gonna kill me,” you said quietly. Almost instantly, tears blurred your vision, and you rushed to blink them away; as much as both you and Satoru had insisted that you weren’t a little kid anymore, you certainly felt like one, wanting nothing more than to run to your mother and have her hold you until you fell asleep.

“No she won’t,” Suguru assured quietly, reaching over and gently wiping away a few of your tears as you walked. “You’d be going home right now if you could. We’ll explain that to her, okay? She won’t be mad if it’s not your fault you couldn’t go back home.”

He had his soft, reassuring smile on his face when you turned to look at him, and despite everything that had happened since you’d gotten to the estate, it did make you feel a bit better. You offered a slight nod in return, which seemed to ease some of the tension in his shoulders.

The rest of the walk to the boys’ chambers was quiet, though eventually it occurred to you that something was missing. “Wait, where did—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Suguru opened the door to the room, and you were nearly bowled over by Kenji and Niji. Thankfully Satoru steadied you before you could fall, and both boys quickly called off their companions. The dragons reluctantly obeyed the command, but they sniffed the air around you and stared intently at your hands.

After realizing they wanted to see your hatchling, you hesitated a moment, not entirely sure how they would react to another dragon in their space. You glanced at your friends, trying to see how they wanted to handle this.

“We’ll hold them,” Satoru told you, already stepping away from you a bit and calling Kenji to his side.

“It’s better if we introduce them now, anyways, before we all go to bed,” Suguru agreed, summoning Niji to him.

“If they can’t behave, we’ll send them out for the night.”

With a silent nod, you waited until the boys had a hold on their dragons before adjusting the hatchling in your hands. She made some sort of whine at you, but when Kenji and Niji were within view, she seemed to perk up a bit, her green eyes wide as she stared.

Kenji and Niji froze as they stared at your hatchling, not even their tails twitching for several long moments. Then, completely in sync despite not even looking at each other, they slowly lowered themselves to lay on their stomachs, resting their chins on their outstretched legs, bright eyes never leaving your hatchling.

Once the display of apparent submission was done, you and the boys all exchanged bewildered looks. “That was…”

“Weird,” Satoru supplied, and you nodded in agreement.

“Do you think it’s because she’s metallic?” Suguru asked curiously.

You shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Maybe? I’m too tired to think.”

“You’re right, it’s late,” he agreed softly. “You can sleep in my bed, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor tonight.”

“Suguru, I can’t—”

“Well I’m not letting you sleep on the floor,” he insisted. “And we both know Satoru’s not going to volunteer to sleep on the floor.”

“Yeah, because none of us need to sleep on the floor,” Satoru cut in, turning his attention to you. “You take Suguru’s bed, he can share mine with me. It’s big enough for both of us.”

Suguru whipped his head around to look at Satoru, his dark eyes wide and… was he blushing? “It’s not a big deal, really, I don’t mind—”

Satoru rolled his eyes at his friend’s stammered protests, stepping over their dragons and nudging him in the direction of the actual bedroom. “You’re right, it’s not a big deal. You’ll be more comfortable in the bed and you know it, so stop trying to be all noble and selfless.” He pauses for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at you again. “Do you want something to change into for bed?”

It took you a moment to process his question, but when you looked down and saw the clothes you were wearing – comfortable enough to wear during the day, but now a bit dirty with straw stuck all over them, and definitely not something you wanted to drag into bed with you – you nodded. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

The smile he offered you was so warm you felt your face heat slightly with embarrassment, and all you could do was follow as he beckoned you into the bedroom with them. He dug through his dresser for a moment, then pulled out a long shirt and handed it to you. “Do you want pants or anything? I have some but you don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to.”

“Uh…” you weren’t really sure how to respond to the question; it felt a bit odd to sleep in someone else’s bed without any pants on, regardless of what you usually wore to bed. “Do you have any shorts?”

“I think so.” Once you accepted the shirt from him, he went back to digging through his dresser, eventually presenting you with a pair of what looked like silk shorts – something your family would never be able to afford, but you were too tired to think about arguing about wearing them.

“Thanks. I’ll, uh…” you trailed off as you looked around, trying to find somewhere to change into the borrowed clothes, somewhere you could put your hatchling down without having to worry about her too much.

Noticing your dilemma, Suguru stepped a little closer, his arm brushing yours lightly as he spoke. “My bed is behind that divider screen,” he said quietly. “There’s space for you to get changed, and you can put her on the bed where she’ll be safe.”

“Thank you, Suguru.” Though you weren’t entirely sure what expression you had on your face when you turned to look at him, it was apparently more intense than you thought, because the slight pink tint to his cheeks you thought you’d noticed earlier deepened, and there was no mistaking it now: Suguru was definitely blushing.

The desire for sleep was ultimately what pulled you away from your friend’s side, carefully carrying the clothes Satoru had leant you and your hatchling around the divider screen that separated Suguru’s bed from the rest of the room. Once you were fully hidden from the boys, you set everything down on the bed, letting your hatchling curl up on the pillow while you got changed. Your clothes got left in a haphazard pile on the floor, exhaustion eating at you too much to figure out what to do with them in that moment. A quiet gasp escaped you as you pulled on Satoru’s clothes, for some reason not having expected them to be as soft and comfortable as they were.

Before you allowed yourself to collapse into bed for the rest of the night, you peeked around the edge of the screen just in time to see your friends pulling on their own sleep shirts. “Thank you,” you called softly to them. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Their heads shot up at the sound of your voice, both of them offering you gentle smiles. “You don't have to thank us,” Satoru assured you, Suguru nodding his assent. “We’ve got your back.”

“Goodnight,” Suguru said, his voice muffled around a yawn, hesitantly climbing into bed next to Satoru.

“Goodnight,” you hummed, turning to crawl into Suguru’s bed for the night.

Your hatchling was still curled up on the pillow waiting for you, her copper scales and emerald eyes shining even in the small amount of moonlight that filtered in through the window. You smiled tiredly at her, resting your head on the pillow beside her.

Even as you began to drift off, you knew your new companion needed a name. You stroked the top of her head with one finger, eyes heavy as you tried to think. “Hmm,” you hummed, more to yourself than anyone else. “Emerald?”

The hatchling stared at you, unblinking.

“Guess not. What about… Lucky?”

Again, nothing but a blank stare.

“Be nice to me,” you yawned, voice heavy with exhaustion. “I’ve never done this before, and I stopped thinking of names over a year ago.”

This time, the hatchling made a tiny little mumbling sound, though whether she was supposed to be agreeing or making fun of you, you couldn’t tell.

You fell silent for a few moments longer, still very lightly stroking the top of her head with one of your fingers. “Oh, I got it,” you murmured. “Takara.”

You weren’t expecting the little chirp your hatchling let out at the name, but it brought a grin to your tired face nonetheless, especially when she shuffled closer and bumped her nose against your forehead, right between your eyebrows.

“Takara it is, then.” You let out a small sigh of relief, finally allowing your eyes to close, sleep quickly taking over. “Goodnight, little treasure…”

The next morning you were awoken by sunlight coming through the window and landing directly in your eyes. You grumbled a small protest, rolling over in hope of going back to sleep for just a little bit longer, but in the brief second you opened your eyes, you saw two familiar shapes – one white, one black – hovering at your bedside. In your half-waking state, you were beyond confused – why were your best friends’ dragons in your bedroom? – before the events of the previous night came flooding back, and you sat up with a gasp, turning to see if Takara was still on your pillow.

She was, and she seemed rather displeased at having been woken up. She lifted her head, staring up at you with narrowed eyes and making a little displeased grumbling sound.

“Sorry,” you told her, reaching out and stroking the top of her head lightly. “Last night was just… well. It was a lot. Wasn’t sure if it was all just a dream.”

Seemingly appeased by your apology, Takara pushed herself to her feet, wobbling her way into your lap and curling up once again, as if preparing to go back to sleep. Before she fully settled down, though, Kenji chuffed quietly from his spot beside the bed. When you looked over at him, he was shifting on his feet, practically vibrating, and you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him so worked up before. Niji also seemed a little on edge beside him, but he was sitting, watching Takara intently as if he were waiting for something.

Takara, apparently in no mood for so much attention so early in the morning, flicked her tail in the direction of the other two dragons, chittering out a noise that sounded suspiciously like “go away” before turning her back on them and laying down.

Kenji whined loudly at the greeting from your hatchling, pacing back and forth as he continued to stare at her, clearly eager for her attention. Niji, more willing to take a hint than his friend, stood from his spot and flicked his tail at Kenji to get his attention. When that didn’t work, he huffed, leaning in and nipping at the white dragon’s flank. Though it didn’t come even close to breaking the skin, Kenji was clearly unhappy about being snapped at like that. He growled, whirling around and pouncing on Niji in revenge.

In seconds, the two dragons were practically in full-on brawl, rolling around on the floor, crashing into the wall and the bed multiple times, snarling at each other all the while. All you could think to do was sit completely still, watching them with wide eyes and hoping they would stop soon, or that someone else would come and intervene; Sparrow and Spark would tussle at home sometimes, but both Kenji and Niji were about the size of Spark, possibly even bigger now, and you didn’t think you were capable of separating them on your own, and especially not without injury.

Thankfully, though, the commotion was enough to rouse Satoru and Suguru, the sound of muffled curses and hurried footsteps across the wooden floor giving you a couple of seconds’ head’s up before the boys themselves hurried around the privacy screen.

Ever the impulsive one, Satoru almost instantly threw himself into the thick of the scuffle, grabbing Kenji by the fluff on his shoulders and using all of his body weight to pull him away. At nearly the same moment, Suguru hurried over to Niji, wrapping his arms around the dragon’s scaly midsection and pulling in the opposite direction of Satoru. The dragons still growled and snapped at each other as they were pulled apart, but they didn’t fight against the boys’ holds on them as much as you might have expected.

After a moment, as everyone caught their breath, you realized that some of the fluff that was growing in so thick around Kenji’s shoulders and neck was stuck between Niji’s teeth; it shouldn’t have been a shock, considering how hard they’d been going at each other, but it still caught you off guard, somehow.

“Sorry,” Suguru said, looking up at you guiltily from his spot on the floor. “We didn’t mean for them to wake you up.”

“They don’t usually fight like that in the mornings, either,” Satoru chimed in, scowling down at Kenji, who was now on his back between his master’s legs, tail thumping lightly on the floor as if in apology.

“It wasn’t the fighting that woke me up,” you told them, hoping that fact at least would reassure them a bit. “They were by the bed waiting for me to wake up. They wanted to see Takara, I think.”

“Takara?” Satoru asked, a bit confused, though his eyes lit up with realization as he looked down at the little hatchling in your lap. “Hey, I like it! Very fancy.”

“It suits her,” Suguru agreed, offering you a warm smile. “You made a good choice.”

You felt your cheeks begin to burn at the attention and praise you received from your friends, and by some miracle you were saved from having to say anything else by a knock at the door.

“I got it,” Satoru sighed, pushing himself off the floor and gesturing for Kenji to follow him.

“Did you sleep alright?” Suguru asked, releasing his hold on Niji once Kenji was out of sight.

You nodded, still feeling a bit sheepish about having taken Suguru’s bed from him for the night. “I did,” you said quietly. “Did you sleep alright? I’m sorry you had to share Satoru’s bed with him because of me.”

A soft laugh tumbled from his lips at your words, and that faint hint of a blush you’d noticed the night before returned to his face. “It’s okay,” he assured you. “It wasn’t so bad. He was right, his bed is pretty big, so we weren’t squished together all night.”

“He didn’t kick you or anything?” you asked, partially teasing. “He seems like he squirms a lot in his sleep and takes up a bunch of space.”

“I do not kick in my sleep!” Satoru interjected, walking back around the privacy screen and holding a box out to you. “The servant at the door said to give this to you. From my mother.”

You blinked up at him in shock; you hadn’t seen Satoru’s mother outside of her appearances at the new year’s festivals since you and Satoru were about five years old, so you were more than a little surprised that she had apparently sent something to you. “What is it?” you asked, carefully taking the box from your friend and setting it on the bed in front of you.

Satoru just shrugged. “Not sure. Probably clothes, though. My parents won’t want you wearing your dirty stuff from last night, that much I’m sure of.”

“We’ll let you get dressed,” Suguru added, seeing how hard you were staring at the box in front of you.

You nodded without looking up from the box, only seeing the boys and their dragons step to the other side of the privacy screen out of the corner of your eye. Once you were alone again, you looked down at Takara, curled up contentedly in your lap. “Sorry friend,” you told her, carefully lifting her up and placing her back on the pillow behind you.

When she was settled again, you stood from the bed, lifting the lid from the box as if the box itself was breakable, though it was just an ordinary box. Your eyes widened a bit at the clothes that sat waiting for you, having expected maybe something of Satoru’s he had recently outgrown, but the outfit looked much nicer – and much newer – than some hand-me-downs.

The shirt was soft, made of a slightly more lightweight fabric than the shirt you’d worn to sleep, and was probably the prettiest shade of dark green you’d ever seen. The only actual color you’d ever seen Satoru wear was blue, everything else he wore was black, white, or grey, so this was certainly never his, and you couldn’t recall seeing Suguru ever wear anything that wasn’t black, so you couldn’t imagine this had ever been intended to be his. You guessed it didn’t really matter who it was for in the first place, because now it was yours, even if only for a time.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you were quick to pull your sleep shirt over your head, laying it carefully on the bed, quickly followed by the shorts you’d been allowed to borrow, wanting to make sure they were both still in good condition when you returned them to your friend. You then pulled the green shirt over your head, the fabric so light and soft that it barely felt like you were wearing anything at all, which was a pleasant surprise. Once you had the shirt on, you reached for the pants, a simple black pair that, while clearly expensive, were also made from a soft material.

As you picked up the pants, though, you noticed a pair of underwear at the bottom of the box, and it brought such an odd sense of relief you nearly laughed. You changed into those quickly, too, putting your old pair with the rest of your clothes from the previous night. You weren’t entirely sure what to do with them, so for the time being you left them tucked in the corner, not wanting to put your dirty clothes on Suguru’s bed.

You pulled the pants on quickly after that and, now fully dressed for the day, grabbed the clothes Satoru had lent you and turned to step around the privacy screen to return them. Something caught your eye about the screen, though, and you paused to give it a closer look. It was the first time you were really seeing the screen, you realized, and upon further inspection, you saw that there were dragons and rainbows hand painted around the edges of each frame, with a mountain scene spanning across all of them together. You thought you remembered Suguru saying something about his home village being near the mountains, and it made your heart clench to know he had something like this to remind him of home, even after being away for three years without being able to go back.

You were drawn back to the present when you heard Satoru call your name. “Is it okay if I come around?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

The snowy haired boy stepped around the privacy screen, his hands over his face despite your invitation. He peeked through his fingers in a very unsubtle way, then let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Oh, good, you’re dressed.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but laughed despite yourself. “You really think I would have said you could come around if I was naked?”

“...I guess not,” he admitted after a moment, and he at least had the decency to look a little sheepish about it. You just shook your head at him and handed him back the clothes you’d slept in.

“Thanks for letting me borrow those,” you said. “They’re really comfy.”

“I know they are,” he agreed with a grin. “Now, grab your little friend and come on, it’s time for breakfast.”

As if on cue, your stomach let out the most embarrassing gurgling sound you’d ever heard it make, and Satoru couldn’t help but laugh. You scowled at him, but you said nothing, instead turning back to the bed and lifting Takara into your arms.

You followed your friend as he led you out to the rest of the bedroom, tossing the clothes you’d worn to bed on the pile of his own dirty clothes off in one corner. Then you followed after the boys as they made their way to the dining room. Kenji and Niji kept pace with you, one on either side, neither of them watching where they were going, eyes trained on where Takara laid in your arms.

The dining room wasn’t too far from the boys’ bedroom, thankfully, but even still you could feel the way the members of the staff stared at you and Takara. You took your seat between your friends and, after a moment of hesitation, set Takara in your lap. She seemed more interested in sleeping than anything else, but that was pretty normal; most hatchlings spent the majority of the bonding week asleep with their new masters nearby.

Not long after the three of you sat down at the table, you were being served plates nearly overflowing with food, steaming bowls of miso soup and rice placed on either side of your plates. You stared at the spread wide-eyed for a moment, not quite believing all that food was for you, but you quickly got over that when your stomach growled loudly again. You started shoveling food into your mouth then, bites of eggs and rice interspersed with spoonfuls of soup and sips of the tea you were served, then followed by slices of fruit. You startled slightly when you heard a chuckle from off to your left, and you looked over at Satoru, suddenly embarrassed by your behavior.

“Are, uh… are your parents going to be joining us?” you asked quietly, after swallowing your mouthful of rice. You and your friends were the only ones currently at the dining table, but there was space for several more people to join you.

“Doubt it,” Satoru replied softly, taking a sip of his tea before he continued. “Mom joins us sometimes, but mostly she takes her meals in her room because of her headaches. My father just… doesn’t eat breakfast.”

You blinked in surprise. “Never?”

“Not as far as I can remember.” He shrugged then, using his chopsticks to get another bite of eggs.

Opting not to push the subject, you just nodded, turning back to your plate. His words about his mother seemed to fully register with you after a moment, and it made you feel a bit sad. You knew Satoru sometimes got struck with debilitating headaches, so if his mother’s were anything like his, you couldn’t imagine she spent a lot of time out and about, even on the grounds of the estate.

Breakfast passed in a companionable silence after that, with Satoru and Suguru occasionally offering pieces of egg to Kenji and Niji, who were pointedly ignoring their own breakfasts in favor of hovering as close to you as they could, still completely entranced by Takara. You did your best to ignore them, not because you found the behavior annoying, but because the boys thought it would be the best way to get them to leave you alone.

Occasionally you tried to offer Takara bites of your own breakfast, but she didn’t seem interested in anything except the small piece or nori you offered her, though when you offered a second she turned away and tucked her nose under her tail. You shrugged it off, not particularly worried about it; she would let you know when she was hungry, you were certain of that.

Just as the three of you were finishing up your meal, you heard what sounded like a heavy door slam a ways down the hall. That on its own would have been enough to draw your attention, but it was quickly followed by a familiar voice shouting at the staff.

“Where is he?” your mother demanded, and your eyes widened when you heard how angry she was. “I demand to know what that man has done with my child!”

sorry not sorry to leave you guys on a lil cliffhanger again AHAHA. in my defense Plot Things are happening now so the chapters will probably consistently be a little longer than the first several were and the endings will be more like cliffhangers most of the time. if you hate me for it i'll cry and send kenji to steal your shoes.

taglist: @ghost-1-y @sugurei @whatthefucksatan @mitsuristoleme @lu-dao-writes

@peachdues @here-for-the-tea-baby @staryukis @roselleviennesstuff @witchbybirth

@marinnnnnnnnn @dr-runs-with-scissors @entirelysein-e

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

#fallon's fics #noble blood #dragon rider au #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk au #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fanfiction #jjk gojo #jjk geto #fantasy au

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typical-simplelove · 2 days

Text

How Did It End? (C. Alcaraz)

Author's Note: If you know the song, it only kind of follows the song, but this has been an idea circulating in my mind for a while. I want to say more, but then it would spoil the ending, so please read!!! Let me know what you think :)

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: brief mentions/allusions to death

Taking a deep breath, you walked into the coffee shop. Despite being a mutual friend and getting good references from the in-between friend, it’s still nerve-wracking going on a blind date. Well, it was only a semi-blind date. You’ve met him before, and you stalked his Instagram after briefly setting up a time and date with him.

Carlos Alcaraz.

The man of the moment in the tennis world.

A friend of a friend, who apparently, according to the mutual friend, has been asking about you. He’d been asking about you for the past couple of months, and the mutual friend finally decided to talk to you and talk up the man in question.

Carlos was a stupidly beautiful man. From his side profile to his hair to his legs, he was an all-around beautiful man, and if your friend was telling the truth, he had a nice, funny, and great personality.

He seemed to be everything you’ve been looking for in a partner.

Once stepping inside, you moved to the side, wanting to people-watch and observe Carlos before walking up to him. He was standing near where the line for ordering and paying was ending, gesturing for people to get in line as he was waiting and not yet in line. He was nervous, pulling at the edge of his sleeves, playing with his watch.

Deciding to take him out of his misery, you walk towards Carlos. It was as if he could sense your presence because when you’re a few feet away, Carlos looks up. When his eyes meet yours, a big smile grazes his face.

“Hi, it’s nice to see you again,” Carlos says once he walks over to you.

“Likewise,” you smile. “Should we order?”

He nods. “I was super nervous and got here early, so I know what I want.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Damn, that was cute. Carlos was cute—in every measure of the word.

Maybe this date wouldn’t go so badly.

When you and Carlos get in line, neither of you says anything. The likely conclusion was that you were focusing on what to order and Carlos was respecting that, but the nerves in your body were circulating like crazy, so maybe the nerves were part of the reason why you couldn’t put any words together to say anything.

The heat reflecting off of Carlos’ body onto you is indescribable, and you can’t help but fan yourself as your body grows in warmth at his proximity.

Thankfully, the wait in line isn’t long, and you don’t have to find something to say that isn’t along the lines of, “Your body is so warm that it’s making me overheat, but in a good way.”

Carlos gestures for you to go ahead, and as you walk up to the cashier, you immediately feel iciness take over your body as you move away from him and his incredulous warmth.

“Hi, yes, can I get a . . .” you begin, picking out your desired coffee and two pastries.

“And, can I get a sweet iced lemon tea and the gluten-free, vegan chocolate-chip loaf, please,” Carlos says from behind you, and you’re suddenly very much aware of his body near yours. It’s so obvious that you can’t even begin to comprehend the insanity of Carlos’ order.

As the barista turns their screen around to show you the total and awaits your credit card’s tap, Carlos’ phone is quick, resting against the screen.

With a quick thank you, both you and Carlos move away from the line. “I could pay for myself, and us, by the way,” you mention, hoping you don’t sound snarky. You just wanted him to know that you were capable of it, that’s all.

He nods. “Next time. Do you want to sit at that table?” He’s gesturing towards a little corner table.

“Sure.”

When you both take a seat, an awkwardness overtakes the two of you. Now, there’s no excuse of reading a menu to use as the reason for the silence. You try not to let yourself get disappointed. After all, chemistry isn’t always instant, and quick, easy banter isn’t always natural. Sometimes, it takes getting to know someone before that conversation easily flows and ebbs. You were hoping (more like begging) that the latter would the situation with you and Carlos. He had a pull on you, and you wanted to discover that pull.

Thankfully, it’s only a few moments of silence before the barista calls out your order number, and Carlos is quick to tell you he can grab everything and bring it back to the table. You agree, but still get up, moving towards the napkins to grab a bunch.

“Your order is quite an enigma,” you tell him after taking a sip of your coffee.

“Enigma?”

“A mystery.”

He nods. “In what way?”

“No coffee?”

Carlos shakes his head, a smile gracing his face. “I think I add a lot of sugar to my coffee. I wouldn’t want you to think that I was a child on our first date.”

“So you got the tea?” you tease.

“Seemed like the safest option.”

“But the loaf? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Carlos chuckles, letting his deep laughter fill the space between the two of you.

“The drink has a lot of sugar in it, so I balanced it out,” he explains.

You shake your head, trying to hide the wide smile that’s trying to broach your face. “That’s kind of ridiculous.”

He shrugs. “It works for me.”

You’re looking down at your coffee, and when you look up at Carlos, you find him already staring at you, his dark eyes looking deeply at you. “So,” you start, clearing your throat from the intimacy and intensity of the situation. “Tell me about your family.”

. . .

“I’m one of four brothers,” he starts.

“Four? Your poor mother; the level of testosterone in your household must have been insane,” you joke, unable to stop a smile from crossing your face.

Again, he shrugs. Does he know how cute his shrug is? “I don’t know how to measure testosterone.”

Your forehead crinkles in amusement as you shake your head. He’s so effortlessly funny and adorable that you’re not sure he’s real. How can someone this attractive also be silly, funny, and adorable at the same time? He was a paradox—a paradox that you wanted to learn more about. “Don’t worry about it; it’s more of a vibe than it is something to measure,” you explain.

“A vibe,” he repeats, looking contemplative.

“Anyway, tell me more about your brothers,” you prompt.

Thinking about his brothers, Carlos’ eyes light up. It’s clear how much he loves his family. He gives you brief introductions to his brothers, throwing in small comments and stories about the four of them.

“Do you have pictures?” you ask, curious to see pictures of him growing up, beyond what you can find from stalking his Instagram or going deep in a Google Search.

“Sí, sí,” he answers, pulling out his phone. In a few photographs, he shows you his family, taking a brief moment to watch as you take his phone for a closer look.

“You have a cute family,” you say, smiling.

Carlos wanted to comment on you one day joining his family, but he wasn’t sure if that was too forward for a first date and if it would make him look creepy. So, he opted to give you a small smile with a curt nod. “Tell me about your family. I’ve been talking a lot.”

It took you a moment to try to find the right words, and when you did, you dove in about your family and loved ones, telling small anecdotes about your childhood and the past couple of years.

From there, the conversation flowed easily, with you and Carlos exchanging questions back and forth trying to get to know each other. Before either of you know it, the cafe is getting ready to close soon.

“I guess we should get out of here,” Carlos says, eyeing the barista starting to sweep on the other side of the establishment.

“Probably,” you reply, slowly getting out of your seat and collecting your trash.

“Did you want to go do something else?” Carlos prompts, hoping you’ll say yes but also that he’s not being too forward.

Glancing down at your phone, you notice the time and how it’s close to seven. “I want to, but I’ve got to get home and get some work done. I’ve got some assignments due soon. Maybe later this week or next?”

Despite how long you and Carlos spent talking, the conversation, surprisingly never reached the topic of his tennis or your academic studies and work.

“I have to leave for a tournament,” Carlos says, “but maybe when I get back and you’re in a lighter week of work and assignments?”

You smile. “I’d like that a lot.”

“What are you studying?” Carlos prompts you after you both receive your ice cream from the vendor and begin walking along a path in the park near your apartment.

You give him a small glare because he asked you the question right when you took a bite of your ice cream. When he catches your eye as you glare, he gives you a small smirk. After swallowing, you tell him what you’re studying.

“How did you decide upon that?” he asks.

“I kind of thought about what I didn’t want to do, and then from there, I looked at my options and used my personality and skills to find a path that I felt best suited me.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

You nod enthusiastically. “A lot, yeah.”

“Tell me about some of the classes you’re taking.”

With a deep breath, you dive into the classes you’re taking—from the ones that are focused on the major and career path to the ones that fulfill your general education requirements. You also fill in Carlos about your job and the extracurriculars you participate in in addition to your heavy course load.

“So, I should be honored that I’ve been put into your schedule more than once, considering how busy you are,” he jokes, but it’s clear that he’s sincere and is putting himself out there, showing you how important you are to him, despite only seeing each other for a month.

A short laugh escapes your lips. “Don’t let that go to your head. Regardless, you’re pretty busy with tennis, so if anything the honor should be mine. You travel a lot, and I kind of just stay here.”

“If it’s important, I’ll find the time for it,” Carlos says, no hint of teasing or flirting in his voice. He’s serious. You don’t want to look at him because you know his eyes are on you, and if the way your face is heating up from being under his gaze, you know his gaze is intense, making sure you understand fully the gravity of his words.

You can’t help it, though, and look at him. He’s still looking at you, his eyes searching your face. He looks worried, as if he might have overstepped the unwritten and invisible line. Finally, the words leave your mouth, and you say, “I feel the same way.”

“Good,” he murmurs under his breath, barely above a whisper. It’s a surprise that you can hear his words. However, whenever you’re around Carlos, your senses are heightened and elevated, so it’s no wonder you’re acutely attuned to his words.

As if embarrassed, you and Carlos both turn away from each other, opting to look ahead as you both continue walking and eating your ice cream.

“Why tennis?” you voice, trying to ease and thin the intensity brewing between you and Carlos.

His eyes crinkle in line with the smile. Even though you’re only seeing his side profile, you can tell that he’s got a wide smile on his face. This might be only the second time that you and Carlos are meeting in person, but you can already tell that you’re falling fast and hard for this man. The past couple of weeks since the cafe date have been filled with you and Carlos communicating constantly. Between the memes and videos sent back and forth on Instagram to the actual, silly conversations conversed via text, there was no limit to reasons you could point to for Carlos being someone who you would want to keep seeing and potentially date further down the line.

“Rafael Nadal” is his reply with little to no explanation. “He was my hero growing up, and I wanted to play just like him. And as I started playing, I started to love the sport. It’s all I want to do, now.”

Your heart warms at his enthusiasm and love for the sport. It’s hard to find people who truly feel so passionately about something, and it’s admirable to see this trait in Carlos. “I’m glad that you have that.”

“Thank you,” Carlos says, giving you a small smile.

From there, the conversation stills, but it doesn’t feel awkward. It’s comfortable. It feels like if you say anything, it would be forcing a conversation that isn’t supposed to happen. Walking in silence is comfortable and unique and precious. You’re enjoying the peacefulness while walking with Carlos; it feels as if everything is right for the first time in a long time.

Now and then, while walking, Carlos (or is it you?) will accidentally (but is it?) bump his arm against yours or will accidentally (again, is it??) brush his hand against yours. At first, you thought it was because sometimes it’s difficult to perpetually walk in a straight line, and he apologized for the first couple of times, but when he kept doing it and stopped apologizing, you tried your hardest to hide a bashful smile at his small attempts at physical contact. He was trying, and it was cute. It was clear, too, that he had no idea if his attempts were working, and he didn’t know how to initiate anything—if the inability to look at you and his perpetual staring off into the distance were any indication.

You decided to take him out of his misery.

“Are you done with your ice cream? I’m going to toss mine in the trash up ahead; I can take yours,” you comment.

“Sure,” he replies, placing his empty container into yours for ease of throwing out. You try not to laugh at the way he made sure none of his fingers touched yours. When you looked up at him during the interaction, his eyes were hooded, and his cheeks were lightly dusted pink. You couldn’t tell if the pink was from the warmth of the day or from being around you; you were hoping it was the latter.

When you and Carlos approached the trash can, you broke formation, jogging slightly ahead to toss the trash. As you rejoined him, you made sure to have your arm parallel to his, with your hand close to his. Carlos has been the one to take the initiative in physical contact, so you decided to follow suit, attempting to reassure it wasn’t one-sided.

For a few minutes, now and then, you’d brush your hand against his, letting your pink finger gently graze his knuckles. The first few times you did the action, you could hear Carlos’ breath hitch. He was surprised and nervous, but it was cute.

Damn, Carlos was so cute; you couldn’t contain how cute he was, in every definition of the word beyond physicality.

You continued to tease him, trying to see how bashful he could get. Eventually, you decided to take him out of his misery when you noticed he stopped pointing out the ducks that he saw swimming in the adjacent lake or the little babies and toddlers in their strollers. In a swift motion, you linked your pinky finger with his, your thumb making soft circles on the back of his hand, across his knuckles.

You wanted to hold his hand, but you didn’t want to push Carlos beyond what he was comfortable with. So, you didn’t do anything else. You kept your pinky finger interlocked with his. He didn’t make any motion or movement indicating he was uncomfortable with the action or that he wanted you to remove your hand.

However, you did notice that his breathing got heavier. For someone as fit as Carlos, the short, brisk, and slow walk you were taking shouldn’t have been something that caused him to get out of breath. His rapid blinking was a dead giveaway. Carlos was building up the courage to do something. You didn’t want to spook him, but you also wanted to reassure him that you were okay with whatever he wanted to do, so you brushed your elbow against his.

That seemed to be everything he needed because, within seconds, Carlos was taking your entire hand in his, interlocking your fingers with his. This time, you can’t help the wide smile that erupts across your face.

Oh, this man.

“Okay?” Carlos asks, nervously, not wanting to overstep anything.

You nod. “It’s all okay.”

For the next month and a half, or so, following your and Carlos’ date at the park, you were regularly hanging out and seeing each other, with the in-between moments filled with phone calls and text messages. Even if he was traveling, Carlos made a concerted effort to work around both your and his schedules to find perfect times to text you uninterrupted or call you. That didn’t stop, though, the random thoughts that popped into his head. These random thoughts never failed to put a giant, goofy smile on your face.

There were no words to explain the way Carlos made you feel; the only way you could sum it up was that you really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really liked him.

Finally, after not seeing each other in person for almost two weeks, your work and class schedule aligned with Carlos’ training, business, and tournament schedule to have a movie night.

Because he still lived with his parents and didn’t want to subject you to that (and you weren’t quite ready for that), the decision was for him to go to your apartment. It was the first time you were going to be together in one of your guys’ living places. Often, you hung out in public places together, from little cafes to restaurants to the times he joined you at the library or study locations during intense exam times.

His being in your home was a new level of intimacy you weren’t ready for, but it was exciting to show him a new piece of yourself.

When Carlos walked into your apartment (twenty minutes early!), you gave him an apartment tour, albeit a short tour. This didn’t stop Carlos, though, from asking questions about various decor choices you made or pictures you have hanging around the place. Even the smallest details weren’t lost on him, and he soaked in every moment of learning about your living environment.

“It’s not a big deal, Carlos.” You try to take him away from the shelves littered with old picture books and frames and yearbooks.

“It’s a very big deal,” he says, pulling a book with pictures from your first year of university. With wide eyes, you snatch the photo album from his hands, remembering some of the more embarrassing photos of you in it, not ready for that kind of vulnerability.

You try to ignore the teasing pout on Carlos’ face as he tries to guilt-trip you into letting him see the photo album. “You brought some really great snacks and take-out; let’s eat.”

Walking into your kitchen, you try to ignore the presence of Carlos in your living space and what it means for your relationship. Neither of you have brought up the topic of the status of your relationship. It doesn’t necessarily worry you, but you hope it naturally comes up soon.

“Hey,” Carlos says, approaching you in the kitchen. He places his hands on your waist, gently, in an attempt not to spook you. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” And it was the truth; you just didn’t want him to see embarrassing photos of you.

“Still,” he murmurs, kissing your temples, one at a time, before following the same pattern with your cheeks before moving to your neck, followed by your shoulders. “Should have asked first.”

You turn around in his embrace to look at him. “I have very embarrassing photos of me in that album. I’m hoping I go to the grave before anyone else sees those photos.”

“Embarrassing photos, you say? Now, I know what I’m doing when you go to the bathroom,” Carlos jokes.

“Oh, shut up,” you reply, your face growing warm. You try to turn back to face the counter while still remaining in Carlos’ embrace, but his eyes are captivating you, and the feel of his hands on your waist paralyzes you. Without any words, you rest your hands at the back of Carlos’ neck and pull him in for a kiss. You can feel the smile/smirk on his face as his lips touch yours.

“No promises,” he murmurs against your lips as you pull away. In one swift motion, he turns you around and moves to your side to help you get the to-go containers situated.

With ease, you and Carlos set out placemats on your coffee table in front of your TV and set the various food, snacks, and drinks on the table to have for the movie.

“Preferences on a movie?” you question, settling on the couch next to Carlos. You follow up the question by listing out the various streaming services you have.

“Pick one of your favorites first,” he replies, moving forward to make a plate of food and snacks for himself.

You nod, picking one of your favorite movies to show. There’s no better test to a relationship than showing the other person one of your favorite movies. As the movie begins and continues through the plot, you’re extremely aware of Carlos’ presence on your couch. It’s different, but you like it. You like him here with you, and you want him always here with you.

Halfway through the movie, you’re moving to adjust your legs into a more comfortable position. You’re not quite sure which pose or stance is going to be the most comfortable, so you’re trying out a few different stances. Carlos notices, and when you stop moving but are clearly trying to find a different pose, he takes your legs and drapes them across his lap, resting his hands on your ankles, brushing little patterns along the skin on your lower leg.

Yeah, that was the pose.

“Okay?” he asks. That was his thing. Whenever he tried something physical that was new to your relationship, he always followed it up with this question.

You nod. “Okay.”

A brief smile overtakes his face before he returns his attention to the movie. Through the remainder of the movie, your legs are comfortable in his lap as his hands trace patterns across the exposed skin of your legs. Normally, you were very ticklish; you couldn’t get through a pedicure without giggling and flinching. However, when Carlos traces his patterns and touches your legs, you don’t notice it. You’re not ticklish one little bit. Interesting, you think to yourself.

When the movie is over, you give him the remote. “Your turn. Pick a movie.”

He nods, taking the remote in one hand, and leaving his other hand firmly on your legs in his lap. He’s scrolling through the various options when he gets a phone call.

“It’s my mother,” Carlos tells you. “Okay if I answer it?”

You nod. “Of course.”

As he answers the call, you lean forward to grab some of the snacks on the coffee table. You try not to listen to his conversation, but his mother on the other side of the phone is loud. Either, she talks very loudly or the volume is very loud, and you’re not sure which one it is.

“Where are you?” you hear his mother say. Your attention is heightened and focused on Carlos’ response. What is he going to say? You’re not looking at him, but from your periphery, you see him look at you as he figures out what to say.

“Out” is what he decides to go with. Okay, interesting.

“¿Con tu novia?” she replies (with your girlfriend?).

That makes you sit up straighter. Now, you were very interested in what he was going to say.

“Sí” is what he follows with.

You don’t hear what she replies with. Your ears are ringing with the knowledge that Carlos called you his girlfriend. Hopefully, he wasn’t just saying it to get his mother off his back and actually meant it.

Another minute passes of Carlos talking on the phone before he hangs up the phone. You’re not looking at him, and he can’t get a good read off of what you’re feeling or thinking. He knows that neither of you has brought up the topic, but he’s been telling people he has a girlfriend. Maybe he should have talked about it with you first before telling people, but it doesn’t change how he feels about you and where he wants the relationship to go. He opts to continue flipping through the movie selections, giving you the time to process and figure out what you want to say.

“Am I actually your girlfriend, or is that something you told your mom to get her off your back?” you finally say, hoping it’s the former.

“I hope you’re actually my girlfriend,” he replies, looking at you with hope and fear. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m actually your girlfriend,” you answer, smiling at the way his shoulders relax and the wide smile overcomes his face. “Is that okay?”

“Very okay.” With that, he leans over and gives you a brief kiss. He pulls you closer to his body, wanting to hold you and feel your warmth against his body.

Well, that’s that.

This year’s Indian Wells tournament happened to be at the same time as your Spring Break, so you managed to find some time off from work to fly out to California to be with him during the tournament. You tried to sleep on the plane, but the nerves were wracking through your body. When Carlos is on the road and in different time zones during various tournaments, you managed to work around your schedules well to accommodate the best times to call each other. Not being there with him during tournaments meant you didn’t truly understand how the stress and pressures impacted him as a player. He tried to hide a lot of it while on the phone so that you didn’t feel helpless by only being available over the phone. The dynamics between the two of you would be different with you there in person.

Additionally, this is the most time you’re going to spend with Carlos’ team. You’ve met them and had several conversations with the various team members, but you’ve never spent extended time with them. You hope they don’t think you’re going to be a distraction for Carlos.

To say the least, you were nervous, and that didn’t even compare to the general nervousness you had for Carlos going into a tournament, especially with some of the troubles and issues he’s been having recently.

Because of his practice schedule, Carlos couldn’t meet you at the airport, so you took a taxi from the airport to the hotel where you sat in the lobby waiting for him. He wouldn’t let you get your own room; he wanted you at his side (and bed).

You only had to wait about an hour—like he said—before you saw him walk into the hotel lobby. He was searching for you among the various individuals sitting on the couches in the lobby, and when his eyes met yours, a giant erupted across his face as he moved towards you. You met him halfway, dragging your suitcase behind you.

“Hi,” he whispers into your hair as he holds you tightly.

“Hi,” you whisper into the fabric sitting on his shoulder.

“I’ve missed you.”

“It’s only been a couple of weeks.”

“A couple of weeks too many,” Carlos contradicts, pulling back from the hug and putting his hand in yours before he re-introduces you to his team. Some of the nerves you were feeling dissipated at the happy smiles on their faces.

“All he’s been talking about the past week has been about you arriving here,” Juanki says. “I don’t know if I could take hearing about it for another day.”

Everyone laughs at Juanki’s remarks, and Carlos kisses your forehead. “I’m very happy you’re here,” he whispers to you.

“Me too,” you reply and begin the walk towards the elevator to Carlos’ hotel room.

The week flies by fast. Your days are spent attending various practices and sitting in the Alcaraz box during matches while relaxing with him in between it all. He’s excelling through the tournament, and before you know it, he’s preparing for his appearance in the finals, vying for the opportunity to defend his title.

Throughout the match, you’re clutching at the sleeves of your sweater, trying your best to remain stoic like the rest of his team so as to support Carlos the best you can.

But then the umpire says, “Game. Set. Match. Alcaraz.” And with that, the entire box jumps up and erupts in cheers, and your heart is bursting at how happy you are for Carlos. This was everything he needed to get his momentum back, and you’re so happy for him.

The rest of the day flies by with media and congratulatory conversations and celebratory drinks and dinner. It isn’t until late that you have a quiet moment alone with Carlos. You’re sitting against the headboard of the bed in your pajamas, waiting for Carlos to change into something comfortable after taking a shower.

When he’s ready, he climbs onto the bed and rests his head in your lap. On instinct, your hands go into his hair to play with it and give his head a massage.

“I couldn’t do it without you here,” he murmurs against your thigh as he lowers his inhibitions as you massage his head.

“Yes, you could have,” you contradict, believing in his potential more than he does.

“Well, then, you were a special motivator to win,” Carlos continues, making your heart melt. You bend down and kiss the top of his head before you return to focusing your attention on his head in your lap.

He has to be exhausted, but you can tell he’s trying his hardest to stay awake—to stay awake for you. After a while, he knows that he can’t remain awake for that much longer, so he says, “Come here.” He moves his body to his side of the bed and pats the space next to him. “I want to fall asleep with you in my arms.”

Who are you to deny this adorable man anything? So, you move to switch off the lights and move to maneuver yourself into his arms. When he’s wrapped his arms around your body just so, a sigh of contentment leaves his body, and within seconds, he’s out, his breath even and quiet.

A small smile approaches your face as you kiss his cheek. Within minutes, you, too, are drifting off to sleep, both content with each other.

Quietly, Carlos walks into your apartment, using the key you gave him. You told him that you were busy studying, getting ready for a week of midterms, assignments, and papers due, so he didn’t want to disturb you. However, he’s making sure to make some noise because he doesn’t want you to be startled when he makes his presence known.

Quickly, he shrugs off his shoes and leaves the food and stuff he brought on the kitchen counter, looking around for you. You’re not at the kitchen table where you normally get work done nor are you at the couch where you tend to inhabit when times get stressful. Next, he checks the hallway leading to your bedroom and notices the light on in your room. Before he walks into your room, he returns back to the kitchen and grabs the bouquet of flowers and some of the snacks he bought before going to your room.

When he gets to your open door, he knocks on the door to alert you of his presence. When you hear his knocking, you look up with a big smile and pause the music coming from your computer.

“Hey,” you say, tidying up your bed, slightly, to make room for Carlos among the various textbooks, notebooks, and notes littering your bed.

“Happy Anniversary,” he whispers as he kisses your forehead.

“Happy Anniversary,” you repeat, pulling Carlos in for a hug. With his arms around your body, a lot of the stress that’s been holding you hostage leaves your body. “I’m sorry that I can’t go out tonight or any time this week.”

He shakes his head. “Nonsense. We’ll celebrate our anniversary and you excelling at your work and classes.”

“Thank you,” you say, patting the empty side of your bed for Carlos.

“I’m going to put these flowers in a vase for you first, okay?”

“Okay,” you answer with a small smile.

“I brought you food and stuff. Should I leave it in the kitchen or bring it in here for you?”

“Kitchen,” you reply. “It’ll give me a reason to get out of my filth, but bring some snacks?”

“Obviously,” Carlos remarks before giving you a kiss and walking to put the flowers in a vase. When he returns, he comes back with various chocolate snacks, crackers, and gummies—more than anyone could possibly need.

“Thank you,” you whisper, grabbing one of your favorites and immediately placing it optimally against your leg so you can grab some as you type away on your paper.

“Of course,” he whispers back, climbing onto your bed.

“I charged my tablet, so you can watch something on it while I get work done if you’re planning on staying.”

He nods. It’s remarkable that even with all these things on your mind, you still can think about him and what he might need. “Whatever you need, let me know.”

Carlos arrived at your apartment around late afternoon, and it’s been many hours since he arrived, and you’ve barely lifted your head to breathe. Despite using your tablet to watch a show (one of your favorites that he’s been trying to catch up on to watch it live with you), Carlos has been watching and observing you. He’s been watching you type away on a paper, finish it, check it off on your checklist, and move on to preparing various study guides for exams.

He knows that you said you wanted dinner in the kitchen, but he knows trying to peel you away from your computer is going to be too much to ask, especially in the middle of completing an assignment, so instead, he watches and waits for you to check off something from your to-do list. When you do, he gently takes your computer off your lap and moves it onto the bedside table on his side of the bed.

“Carlos,” you whine.

“Go to the bathroom,” he instructs. As you follow his instructions, he fluffs up your pillows and grabs another one to support your back before he goes to the kitchen to grab dinner for the both of you.

When he gets back to your bedroom, you’re just leaving the bathroom after you used the toilet, washed your face, and brushed your hair.

“I got you some food, so you can eat it while also getting work done,” Carlos says, gesturing for you to sit as he hands you a bowl. When you’re comfortably situated on your bed, Carlos places his bowl on the bedside table and gives you your computer back.

When you get your computer back, you quickly make sure all your documents are saved before closing your computer and putting it to the side. When Carlos gives you a quizzical look, you say, “It’s our anniversary. The least I can do is have dinner with you.”

“No, if you need to get something done, it’s okay,” Carlos contradicts.

You shake your head. “I need a break anyway.”

“But you can—”

“I want to have dinner with you, Carlos, not my computer screen.”

“Okay,” he says, a wide smile overtaking his face.

While this might not have been the anniversary night Carlos thought he would be having with his partner, it was one he wouldn’t trade for anything. You’re a great source of support and love with his tennis career and his insane schedule, so it felt right to return the deed and support and take care of you when you were busy and needed him. After all, that’s what relationships are, Carlos is starting to learn. Taking care of each other, and carrying more of that weight when necessary so your partner doesn’t sink amid everything.

Carlos made a silent vow to be your anchor for as long as you’ll have him—and he hopes it’s forever.

“It’s kind of funny that three years ago, Chris was the one who introduced us, and now we just attended her engagement party, together, as a couple,” Carlos reflects, kissing your forehead. You lean further into his touch, letting his hand fall from yours so that his arm can wrap around your shoulders. He smelled good; he always smelled good.

“Makes you think about how our lives would be different,” you continue. “We could have just been two strangers at this party.”

Carlos shudders. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“Good, me neither,” you reply, looking into his deep, chocolate-brown eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Without saying anything else, Carlos takes your hand in his and begins the walk across the street. It was one of those longer avenues, with less than enough time to cross the street. You follow him, knowing you’d follow him to the ends of the earth.

“You know,” he says when you’re still a few feet away from the mid-point of the avenue-cross way. “Attending an engagement party tonight has got me thinking.”

From his words, you kind of know where he’s going with his thoughts, but you still want to tease and embarrass him as he gets all his thoughts out. “Mmm, dreaming of your white, lacy dress?”

“No,” Carlos says, slightly defensively. You look up at him and can see a faint flush under the street lights as you’re still crossing the street. “Just that maybe we’d want that for us, one day? What do you think?”

You’re still looking at him and crossing the street when you see his eyes go wide with fear. His face lights up with the white of a headlight, and for a split second you turn your head, and the bright white of the headlights blinds your vision.

At least it’s with the love of your life, you think to yourself as Carlos squeezes your hand one last time.

. . .

As the headlights blared into your eyes, you blinked, bringing you back to the little corner table where you and Carlos were sitting—back to the present, away from your imagination.

“I’m one of four brothers,” he starts.

“Four? Your poor mother; the level of testosterone in your household is insane,” you joke, unable to stop a smile from crossing your face.

He continues talking about his brothers, giving you little tidbits about their personalities and activities. He had no idea about the spiral that was going through your head at that moment.

You’ve always known that you tend to overthink and think of the worst-case scenarios. That tended to be the one thing that prevented you from doing things, especially dating; not knowing about the in-betweens or how things ended was unnerving to you. What was going to happen after this first date freaked you out.

“Tell me a little bit about your family,” Carlos says, a soft smile on his face, the smile lines around his eyes making you swoon. Oh, this man.

“Well. . .” you begin, diving into your family and their various antics and personalities. They were a handful.

This time, you decided, that it didn’t matter if you didn’t know how things would play out. You were going to try your best not to let yourself overthink and live in the moment. That was going to be difficult, you knew, but somehow, the way Carlos made you feel helped you realize that, no matter what, it would all work out just fine.

You didn’t know how it would end, but the journey might be worth whatever the ending actually was.

After all, you know you have an overactive imagination, leading to self-sabotage at the purest and best things in the world.

This kind of connection with Carlos happened once every few lifetimes. Who were you to deny the universe the connection it wanted?

#claudia writes #carlos alcaraz #carlos alcaraz x reader #tennis fic #carlos alcaraz fic #op: 2024 #carlos alcaraz imagine

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yanderes-galore · 11 hours

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I'd really love if you did a concept of Aemond Targaryen if you're down! Thx! ^^

I'll try my best, sure! I just hope I get his character right. He's one of my favorites!

Yandere! Aemond Targaryen Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Possessive behavior, Forced betrothal/Marriage, Sadism, Potential Targcest mentions (Aegon/Helaena), Manipulation, Violence, Blood, Murder, Dark themes, Vague punishments implied, Isolation, Biting/Marking, Forced relationship.

Aemond is the more serious one out of Alicent's two sons (in the show).

He takes duty seriously yet doesn't participate in tournaments.

He actually believes himself more capable of ruling than his brother, which may not be wrong.

He tends to his duties as a prince much more than Aegon, often studying history and philosophy.

He's a capable fighter and at a young age managed to have Vhagar under his command.

So, imagine this... Aemond taking you as his betrothed once he hits a certain age.

It's natural his brother is betrothed to Helaena due to his duty as king.

However, Aemond isn't betrothed.

Alicent doesn't plan on marrying him off to anyone until Aemond meets you.

You could be a royal from another family, or maybe a servant he got too close to, either way now Aemond is smitten.

Which would lead to your betrothal, even if you don't even like the prince.

This concept is going to focus on how it's like to be betrothed to Yandere! Aemond.

Aemond is an intimidating man.

If the dragon doesn't scare others off, he will.

Aemond seems like he'd come off as cold most of the time.

There's times he's affectionate with you, but unlike Aegon he's no pathetic yandere.

He's possessive like most Targaryens and often hates others looking at what's his.

He's just more stoic about it.

If he catches eyes on you for too long, he'll squeeze your waist to show you're taken.

Aemond isn't afraid in the slightest to give others a message about taking what's his.

Between Vhagar and his blade, Aemond would shed blood to keep you as his.

He was willing to do it before you were betrothed, he'll definitely do it now.

I wouldn't put it past him to sacrifice others to Vhagar if they got too close.

Ah, it was just an accident.

Shouldn't have been so close to you Vhagar.

However, there's also times I can see Aemond getting personal and finishing off someone with his blade instead of dragon fire.

Blood coating his clothes is a common sight, especially during the Dance of The Dragons.

So why be so worried, dear?

He's a warrior... killing is something he's well accustomed to.

Of course, before he gets bloody he'll give warnings.

Although giving warnings is much less fun to him.

Now let's get onto how he is with you instead of others.

Before you were both betrothed he originally seemed cold and disinterested.

Yet talking to you at a few gatherings made the prince captivated.

He didn't think he'd need a partner, he was fine just performing his duties like usual.

Then Aemond kept finding himself tailing you around, the normally stoic prince itching to know more.

Alicent grew a bit suspicious when Aemond showed an interest in you.

She thought he'd have a similar interest in you that Aegon had... have a night in the bedroom maybe then it's done.

But... no, instead Aemond comes up to her months later and asks for permission to marry you.

Which leads to Aemond dragging you off for marriage.

Afterwards, when you're alone, he's affectionate and teasing.

He isn't cold all the time with you.

There's times he genuinely just wants to show he cares for you not just out of duty.

He also happens to have a twisted adoration towards you.

Your husband never leaves you out of his sight for long.

Aemond is manipulative towards you, often coming off as demanding towards you.

He wants you to listen to him and doesn't want you going off on your own.

Even a walk to the garden has to be accompanied by him as he keeps you attached to the hip.

His grip on your hand is unrelenting even if you just want to see the flowers.

Complain all you want, Aemond refuses to play your games.

While not violent towards you, this is the same man who would slaughter other men for looking at you wrong.

Be that for your honor or his own selfish reasons... well, it's hard to say.

Fire and Blood is the saying for Aemond's house.

Problems for him are dealt with using that phrase.

He isn't very merciful unless it comes to you.

Aemond even holds back during punishments if he's in a good mood.

Unless you wish to run away.

Then that just won't do, right?

Aemond is adamant on the fact he didn't marry you just for duty.

He's married you for personal interest.

Every bite on your skin is proof of such, he takes claim to you and wants everyone to know it.

He is adamant on having you tell him that you're his.

He wants you to say it often, to know you're just his.

He is a terrifying and serious man.

He takes his duty and his love seriously.

You'd be a fool to think you could escape him...

Escaping the one-eyed dragon's clutches is an impossible feat, especially with his brother as king.

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #yandere asoiaf #yandere aemond targaryen

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jezabelle9299 · 17 hours

Text

Nightmare Cure S.R x Reader

Authors Notes: Exceedingly long rambles of a person with too much time on their hands. 2.5k words, reader does clerical work in the building, fluff, some angst, mentions of nightmares, loss of a parent (father) as a teenager, reader with hair long enough to braid, and Spencer with hair long enough to pull back (Jesus Reid save me), kind of mentions when he was carrying around hair ties all the time. Mutual pining, idiots in love, all that good stuff.

Working in the FBI building was interesting to say the least. You did clerical work, as far from the danger as possible, and that was how you liked it. Working on the same floor as the BAU, sometimes you got to chat when they were in the office. You liked all of them but you definitely had a favorite, Dr. Spencer Reid. You talked to him the most, and perhaps also pined for him in a totally casual, not at all weird way that you would never speak of, especially not to your lovely, and also very nosey coworkers. Something was different with him though. The dark circles around his eyes were larger, he was walking past your desk to get to the coffee maker far more frequently, and he just had this sullen look about him that made your heart break.

One afternoon, when most of the others in the office had left early before the holiday weekend, you followed him to the kitchen as he passed your desk.

“Spencer?”

“Hey. What’s up?’ He looked to you while blindly piling sugar into his coffee mug.

“I was just wondering, are you ok? I mean as much as you can be?”

He was nervous and you worried you said the wrong thing, making things worse. Maybe he didn’t think you guys were that close? Before you could spiral, or make an attempt to retract your questions he sets down the sugar and clears his throat.

“Oh-uh I’m ok, just trouble sleeping you know? Can’t really relax at night.”You knew he was talking about nightmares. They were common with the field agents, but no one ever talked about them openly. You’d had your share, although yours didn’t come from the job.

“Oh. I had similar problems once, i-if you want I could kind of show you my routine that helped? I have a guest bedroom if you wanted to try. Only if you’re comfortable, of course.”

“That sounds nice, thank you y/n, really.” He was certain that anything that had helped you wouldn’t help him. If he couldn’t fall asleep in his own bed, a new place wouldn’t help. But he pined for you as you did for him, so he wasn’t going to turn down a chance to spend more time with you, especially at your house. He wanted to know everything about you, and he appreciated that you wanted to help him in the first place.

Ok! If you want to come to my house at like 6:30, I’ll cook?”

“ I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He had a faint blush and you really hoped it was a good blush, not a scared one. He was so cute. You’d just finished your paperwork, and it was already 5 o’clock so you had to get ready.

You stopped by the store to get the supplies for dinner, you really hoped he liked it. It was almost 6 by the time you put everything away so you cleaned up as much as possible, putting fresh sheets on the bed in the spare room and getting out everything that brought you comfort during your bout of nightmares. Yours came from the death of your father, that happened soon after the death of many of your grandparents. You couldn’t imagine his nightmares, with the things that he saw everyday, but you hoped these things would help him, at least a little bit. Soft blankets, lavender candies, and a candle you thought he might like, all stacked neatly on a chair in the corner of the room. The candle was supposed to smell like old books, and you’d light it soon, that way it’d already fill the room by the time he arrived.

6 o’clock came and went so you started cooking, setting the table while everything got started. 6:30 on the dot his car pulled up in the driveway, and out came dr.Reid, with an overnight bag and-oh my god. He brought flowers, more specifically he brought your favorite flowers, even though you had never told him. You checked on dinner as he walked up the drive so that you wouldn’t forget as soon as you saw him.

You opened the door and he just stared for a second. “Uh-sorry-hi, you look nice”

You were wearing a dress, but this one was much more casual, and with gym shoes instead of the heels you typically wore to the office since you were still buzzing around the kitchen. Because of the messiness of what you were cooking you had an apron tied around your waist. He was still dressed in his 3-piece suit he wore to the office today.

“Oh, thank you, you do too-but I hope you brought something more comfortable in that bag.” When he looked back down at his back he remembered the flowers he was still holding.

These are for you! -You know as a thank you, for helping me. I asked Garcia for your favorite, I hope you like them.” He awkwardly grabbed them so he could hold them out to you, and you stifled a giggle at his flustered attempt to hand them to you as you accepted them. You started to turn as you opened the door wider, welcoming him in.

“They’re perfect, thank you, Spencer. And please come in, the guest bedroom is the second on the left if you want to set your stuff down while I put these in some water and finish up dinner?” He gave a quick nod and a tight smile as he started down the hall, while you buzzed through the kitchen, first finishing seasoning the food, and then putting the flowers he got you in water. You still couldn’t believe he got you flowers.

When he came back through the hall you discard the apron on its usual hook, and set the food on the table. As you eat you make small talk about your days, until he changes the subject. “You mentioned earlier you had the same problem, what was causing your nightmares?” Instantly you became uncomfortable, you were really hoping he wouldn’t ask, although you should’ve known better.

“Ah, Dr.Reid the profiler, I should have guessed you’d ask.” You made an attempt to laugh it off, but he only focused on you more. You cleared your throat, ready to get this over with.

“When I was 17, a few days before my 18th birthday my father died. Heart attack, totally unexpected. It took a while for the nightmares to start, but once they did it took a long time to get rid of them. That’s why I developed this whole elaborate routine, anyway. They were mostly you know existential everyone I’ve ever loved will be ripped away from me without a chance to say goodbye kind of stuff. Super fun I know.” You made another attempt at laughing off the discussion and this time he got the message. He gave you a reassuring smile, and changed the subject.

“What comes next in the amazing Y/N goodnight routine?” He got up from the table and ever the gentleman, he offered a hand to you to help you up from your seat. You got your excitement back instantly, beaming up at him, ready to get to the next thing, your favorite part.

“Oh get ready, it’s movie time!” He looked relieved at your smile coming back as you did a little wiggle, as though you just couldn’t contain your happiness anymore.

“Yeah? What are we watching?” He barely got out through his little laughs. It wasn’t a full laugh, but more of a shaky exhale he smiled all the way through.

“Well when I started I watched Say Anything on a near repeat- but this is your night so I picked something I hope you’ll like. To get the full effect though these outfits aren’t going to work at all. Go get into your pajamas, and I’ll grab the movie.” You quickly cleared the dishes into the sink first, and then bounced down the hallway to your room with Spencer laughing as he trailed behind you. It felt so domestic, and if this was what it was like to be in a relationship with him, any girl he dated would be the luckiest girl in the world.

You threw on a t-shirt and some striped pajama shorts, then went to your bookshelf and grabbed the dvd you thought he’d most like. When you were walking back to the living room, you set the dvd down on a small table lining the hall. You attempted to stop in the bathroom to grab a hair tie, but when you walked in Spencer was already standing at the sink.

“Oh-Sorry!” You started stammering, even though he wasn’t doing anything. Just standing at the mirror, with his glasses on the sink trying to get out his contacts.

“Oh it’s ok, I just wanted to get my contacts out before we started. I know it freaks some people out. It’s Ommetaphobia, fear of things touching the eyes. It’s pretty common and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No-I don’t mind, I just needed to grab a hair tie, I didn’t mean to get in your space.” You reached past him to grab two from the counter next to his glasses and then quickly put them on your wrist and separated your hair. He watched you in the mirror as you started to braid, until you finished the first one. You let yourself take in what he was wearing, a blue star trek t-shirt, and some black doctor who pajama pants. They were so wonderfully him. As you tied it off the braid, his eyes snapped back to his own in the mirror and he quickly swapped his contacts for glasses, looking away from the mirror as he removed them, as he wasn’t completely sure that it wouldn’t bother you. As you tied off the second braid your eyes followed him in the mirror. He had his glasses on, a look you loved but hardly ever saw.

He looked back at you and smiled, before turning back and grabbing a hair tie from his own wrist and in possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, pulled his own hair back, into a small ponytail as he walked back into the hall.

When you made your way back to the living room Spencer was already there, looking at all of your books like they were the most interesting thing in the world. When he looked back at you, you made a big show of holding up the dvd. It was called Forbidden Planet, it was sci-fi and even if it was extremely old and the effects were outdated you hoped he liked it. His face lit up as soon as he saw it, and you knew you made the right choice.

“That was my favorite movie when I was a kid-I’d watch it all the time, How did you-? It’s almost impossible to find.” Tears were welling up in his eyes and your heart broke. He was going home with that dvd. You wanted to tell him how you thought of him, and hold him, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Not tonight, this was about him. You settled for a “I hoped you’d like it” and a gesture for him to sit while you set it up.

While you watched the movie he told you everything, and if he was anyone else you’d think he couldn’t possibly be paying attention at the same time. He told you about how it was made, how it affected the sci-fi genre, and every other fun fact he could think of. You were happy to listen. When the credits rolled the clock on your phone read 10pm-a little early, but you knew he needed the sleep.

“Party’s over doctor, it’s time to get ready for bed.” He gave an overdramatic pout, but got up. You stood together while brushing your teeth, only having one bathroom forcing domestic bliss. You continued talking to him while you turned off lights and made sure the door was locked.

“I swear if you need anything let me know, my door is literally always open, I can’t sleep with it closed.” You turned away from the hall, away from the bedroom he was standing in as he put his work phone on the charger from his bag. You put on a record of classical piano quietly to help you both sleep as you remembered the pile of stuff for him on the chair. “I almost forgot- on that chair in the corner, there’s some stuff for you if you want it- if you’re still having trouble I mean, the lavender is supposed to help you sleep. I read this thing that said it produces these chemical compounds that act essentially as sedatives, figured it was worth a try.

He knew. He already read articles on different theories for helping insomniacs sleep. But something about how you said it, how you set things out you thought he’d like, how you took care of him. It was too much for him. He was glad you weren’t in there, that you couldn’t see him. He didn’t want you to see him cry, and if you looked at him with that sweet smile, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from asking for what he really wanted. He wanted to tell you how he felt, to tell you what this meant to him, to hold you while you slept.

But you were too good. Too sweet. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, he knew even if he overstepped you were too nice to tell him, especially at this hour. You had a tendency to do that- putting others before yourself to ungodly degrees, and he wanted you to feel more comfortable than that. In the morning he would tell you. When you could ask him to leave without sending him away in the dark, because he was sure that you wouldn’t like someone like him. You were perfect.

But tonight was enough. He got to see what it was like, if he had been someone you loved. You both said a quick goodnight, with a promise to see each other in the morning. For the first night in months he slept peacefully. Maybe all the ritual and routine helped, but it was mostly just you. You cared, and he got to have you as the last face he saw at night. He got to fall asleep in a bed that smelled like you, with your books on the walls and your music playing, and it was perfect. He loved you, and he just had to get up the courage to say it.

That was the first of many nights Spencer stayed with you, and the last one he slept in the guest bedroom. He still had nightmares- sometimes, but you were always there to comfort him with a reassuring touch. Most nights he had dreams, and he dreamt about you the most.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader

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