#I’m just grumbling I’m sure I’ll take a nap in the afternoon or something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anitabighug · 1 year

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❥ A Perfect Experiment : Wally x Reader (She/Her Pronouns, Named) ✿

Chapter Masterpost: [ ♡ ♡ ♡ ] [ TW: Loss of agency, Vomit, Mild Body Horror ] Chapter Seven; Any Old Thing. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

You and Wally took the rest of the afternoon to nap. It's only as the sun begins to set that Home wiggles a floorboard, and the bed with it, gently bringing the pair of you back to the waking world. With a slow sigh, you shift to start pulling yourself out of his bed. Wally squeezes your waist tighter, and grumbles into your tummy. Gosh he was cute. You give him a reassuring pet on his head, and he slowly peers up at you, his stare as intense as ever. “I do need to leave eventually.” You whisper to him. He just grumbles again, but his grip on you loosens, and you lift yourself out of it and onto your feet, smoothing your dress out. You gather the tupperware container, and your basket, and start to take a step to the door. Wally’s hand shoots out from under the blankets. You don’t know when he sat up. His face is shrouded in the darkness of the room, only his wide eyes visible. “... I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks. He almost sounds… worried about it. “Absolutely,” You assure him, and give his hand a squeeze. He waits a beat, deciding whether or not he believes you, before releasing and sinking back into bed. You wave at him, and finally step out of the room. You return Home as you left it, flicking the lights back off as you go, and calling one more goodbye before stepping outside. You let out a tired groan, and hold your hands up to hide your face, pressing your back against the door. You did it! You were SO calm about this whole thing, and what was there to even freak out about?? Nothing! Home creaks behind you questioningly, resulting in a loud squeak as you scramble away from the door, “Oh, Gosh! Sorry, Home!” You reach forward, and give the door a gentle pat, “Goodbye! I’ll see you soon, okay?” You promise, and turn on your heel, heading back to your own home for the night. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● Wally pulls his curtains apart, letting the remaining light back into his room. He leans up against the wall, watching out the window as you walk back to your lab. Home’s pipes rattle excitedly. “... Yeah, she is nice.” Wally replies slowly. Another rattle, louder this time. “Ha ha ha. Polite, too. Yeah. I told you.” He sighs loudly, and turns from the window to just rest against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. “She is such a nice friend.” A floorboard in the room squeaks questioningly. “Huh? Yeah, Friend. What's that supposed to mean?” The wall panel shoves him playfully, and Wally feels his cheeks start to burn. He reaches a hand up, pushing his hair up and out of his face, and breathes in sharply. “No, she does that with everybody.” He clarified. House replied with an unsatisfied rumble, but it seemed that the subject was successfully dropped. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

Despite the promise to spend more time together tomorrow, the world seemed to have other plans for the two of you. The next morning your telephone rings in the middle of breakfast. On the other end, Wally Darling greets you. “I’m feeling much better, thanks to you. Don’t worry about checking in with me.” He tells you. You try to protest. He laughs gently into the receiver. “Well, Daisy, I didn’t think you’d be so eager. If you already miss me that much, then by all means.” He teased. Your cheeks are on fire. “T-thats not–! I–! But you were the one who–” You stammer far too loudly, “I… I was just worried about you, Wally! Are you sure you’re alright?” “I’m fine, Daisy. I Promise.” Despite your apprehension, Wally tells you to try to get your ‘nice relaxing day’ in finally, and then you exchange goodbyes. Something in your heart feels disappointed, but you suppose he’s right. You’d been deprived of your perfect lazy day twice in a row, and though the weather had cooled down a little bit, you could still try and enjoy it in a different way. Later in the day, you’ve found yourself at Poppy’s barn. A nice meditation session was exactly what you needed to clear your head, and the bird was happy to oblige. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, eyes closed. It was nice to meditate at Poppy’s– her home smelled heavily of baked goods and clean straw, and since she liked to nest, she knew how to make the floor oh-so comfortable. You probably could’ve stayed sitting there the whole afternoon, were it not for a voice outside calling Poppy’s name. Eddie? Oh, it must be a letter from Poppy’s family. You were vaguely curious, so when Poppy stood up, you followed her, and peered out past her to wave at Eddie. He handed her a stack of letters, which she started to leaf through, and list out the names of each relative that sent her a letter, chattering happily about how nice each one of them was, and various little tidbits. You listen eagerly, before peeking back over at Eddie. He looks… Nervous? He's taken off his hat, and is wringing it between his hands, and staring at the ground. “... Eddie? Is there something else?” You ask worriedly, jostling Poppy out of her familial love loop. “No! Oh, well, Yes.” Eddie laughs, and rubs the back of his neck, returning his hat to his head, “Sort of! Well, you see, Poppy… I wanted to thank you for your help the other day. You too, Miss Daisy.” He gives you a slow tip of his hat, “It sure was a nice dance, and…” He looks away from the two of you, his face a dark red. “I was wondering… If I could ask for some advice?” Frustratingly, it seems that Julie’s brilliant plan was both a massive success and an even massiver failure. Eddie explains that, though he thought things were going well, Frank hadn’t been waiting for the mail in the morning the last couple days. In fact, Frank was downright avoiding him! Eddie sniffles sadly, and Poppy gently pats his shoulder, “Oh, Eddie… That’s just terrible! What could possibly be wrong, I wonder?” Poppy asks softly, and peers up at you. You tap your lips, deep in thought. Yeah, what could possibly be wrong? Frank liked Eddie, Eddie liked Frank, You had no idea what the problem could possibly be… You’re thinking so long that your mind starts to wander. You think of your friends. You think of love. You think of last night. Your cheeks are on fire. Oh, that was probably the issue. “... I think he might just be nervous.” You state bluntly, and Eddie looks up at you, wiping something from his eye. “Nervous? But…” He mulls the thought over in his head a few moments, and rubs his cheek, “... He's nervous about me? About… Us?” “How could he not be? You’re a catch.” You tease, and he hides his face in his hands. You and Poppy laugh, and you cross the room to pat him on the shoulder, “Maybe you can try to coax him out? Give him a gift? That might help?” “OH!” Poppy squeals, and shocks the two of you into whipping around to stare at her. “Oh, sorry! I just realised; Why don’t we bake him a pie? You can take it over and share it!” She claps her wings together happily. That's… Not actually a terrible idea. “And I have the PERFECT recipe!!!” She leads the two of you into her cute little country kitchen, and takes a book off of the very top shelf, blowing the dust off of it before starting to flip through it. “Yes! I knew it was in here. Are you two ready?” She asks. You both give a determined nod, and Poppy fits the both of you with aprons. You can hear a ukulele. What? Poppy looks excited. Oh, wait, you knew what this was! This was your very first musical number! You’d seen a few from a distance, but you hadn’t been close enough to partake in one yet! You bounce up and down excitedly. Though this was obviously for Poppy, the backing vocals come to you completely naturally, and you let yourself be taken over by this mysterious force. [♫] Cherry Pie - Katzenjammer

“Four cups of cherries, or more,” Poppy sets the bowl on the counter, and pours the cherries in effortlessly, before tapping her beak. She tilts the cherries once more, “Maybe five just to be sure!”

“One cup of sugar, or more if the berries are sour~” You sing along, Poppy giving you one to taste. The flavour is sublime, and you wiggle happily as she pours a cup of sugar into the bowl, “Let your belly say when, when you put in, a good pinch cinnamon!” You pour the cherry mixture into a pot, and it starts to bubble almost instantly. “Groovin', twistin' your leg, when you add the yolk of an egg! Crumble some butter with four small cups of flour~ And in the wink of an hour, if you're lucky you'll try… My Great Granny’s Cherry Pie!”

The song continues, and your body can’t stop bouncing to the beat. Poppy continues to sing the story, and soon Eddie is whistling and rolling out pie dough, and you’ve finished the filling. Time was flying; You knew logically how long baking took, and yet it felt like the whole ordeal was being done before you even knew it! Eddie slides the finished construction into the oven, and you’ve set a timer. Poppy sits you both down at the table for the last verse, “Well listen, once. back. in 1869, My great grandad walked in and caught her eye, And he's been doing tumblers ever since he tasted~ her lovin' crumbles” Poppy is wiggling happily, and you and Eddie are clapping along with the beat,

“She once said to me, ‘One day, you're gonna thank me for this recipe! You gotta follow it to the T– It takes more than just a twinkle in your eye!” The bird gave Eddie a wink, who smiled and blushed in return,

“So when you find your guy… Invite him in for some pie!” The three of you collapsed in a fit of giggles. So this was what the numbers were about!!! What a gas! And so efficient, too, you note as the timer dings just after you’d all finished the song. Poppy gives a knowing nod as Eddie moves to the oven to take it out. You spend the cooling period in cheery conversation, Poppy opening the letters she’d received and telling you both stories about her distant relatives. As good as the pie smells, and no matter how badly you wanted a taste, you help Eddie pack it up, and send him on his way. He puffs out his chest, and strides towards the Frankly residence with as much courage as he can muster. Poppy wishes him luck, and the two of you wave goodbye until hes out of earshot, and Poppy closes the door gently. “Now, what about you?” She asks, tapping her beak smugly. “I do not know what you could possibly be referring to,” You deflect, and stride back over to your meditation spot, sitting down stubbornly. She squawks out a laugh, following you close behind and taking her seat next to you. “It’s not healthy keeping it bottled up like that! You should at least be honest with your friends.” She gives you a knowing nod, and you groan, covering your face. “Poppy, I am being one hundred percent honest with you when I say I have absolutely No Feelings for Wally.” She perks up. You’ve made a grave mistake. No. Noooo don’t look at me like that. You cover your face in shame, and she leans close to you, “When did this happen?” “He asked me very politely,” You insist, continuing to hide your face, “Yesterday. I went over to Home, to make sure he was doing okay, and we… We…” You only lean away further the closer and smugger she gets. [♫] Honey, Honey - ABBA What? Music again, and so soon? What kinds of big feelings could Poppy possibly be having about this. You part your fingers to look up at her. She’s bouncing and clapping.

“Ohhh!!! Your first number! And such a cute tune, too!” No. No, absolutely not! You’re horrified as you feel the compulsion return. You’re not ready. This isn’t happening. Poppy isn’t paying attention, and starts singing the backing vocals, waggling her fingers back and forth “Honey, Honey, How you Thrill me!!! Honey, Honey, Nearly–” The music screeches to a stop. Poppy’s smile is wiped off her face, and she slowly turns to look at you. “... Daisy?” [♫] Honey, Honey - ABBA The music starts again, back from the beginning. Your heart is threatening to burst from your chest. You glue your hands to your mouth, eyes wide, staring at Poppy. You want to ask what is going on– but if you open your mouth, you don’t know what’s going to come out. Poppy moves towards you, reaching out a wing tenderly, “Daisy, don’t fight it–” The music stops again. You think it’s over. Its deathly quiet in the barn. You move your hands off of your face…

[♫] Honey, Honey - ABBA NO. You feel something rising out of your throat, but its not song. You scramble to get up as best you can with your hands replaced on your mouth, and race towards Poppy’s bathroom. With the cheery music still backing it, you vomit a greasy black liquid into the toilet. You can feel it in your nose, stinging horribly. Poppy’s followed you, frantically rubbing your back, though her shaking limbs do little to comfort you through this, “Daisy– Honey, you can’t… Its only going to get worse, you just have to–” The liquid continues to drip from your mouth, and you can feel it dribbling down your cheeks, leaking from your eyes now. You’re not doing this, you refuse. Poppy is begging you at this point. Please sing. Please. Another wave of nausea hits you, and then the toilet. How could it possibly get worse? You remember how many holes a person has. You realise grimly just how much worse it can get. Fine. You just had to sing your feelings, right? Well, what if you just changed what you were feeling? Feel something even more intense than the mixed up emotions that last night had left you with. The music stops. Poppy chokes back a sob behind you. [♫] Any Old Thing - Swing Republic “Tonight...” Your voice is raspy. It’s so hard to speak around the goo. Poppy cowers back from you, bumping into the wall behind her. “I mustn’t think of him! Music, Maestro, Please!” You scream out to whatever is making you do this, slamming your fists against the bathroom tile. “Tonight… Tonight I must forget those precious hours, but no hearts and flowers,” You rise from where you’d been kneeling. The leaking has stopped. Your nausea is starting to fade. A brief sense of confidence rushes over you, and you lean your head back. You can feel tears rolling down your cheeks, real ones this time, salty and stinging at your eyes. You aren’t even in time with the music anymore; whatever creature is listening doesn’t seem to care. “Play!!! Your lilting melodies! Ragtime, Jazz, and Swing!” You cry out, your knees trembling. Your throat hurts so much. Poppy hasn’t made a noise behind you. “Any old thing! To help me ease the pain that solitude can bring!” You choke out the last line. The world spins around you. Your knees give out, and Poppy scrambles to catch you. She's panting, sweat dripping down her nose. “... Did you… Did you just…” She breathes out. You laugh weakly in her arms. You feel so… Tired. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear her calling your name, as the world fades to darkness. -- Tagged ✿ @elegantkidfansoul @itsyoboysparkel

#wally darling x reader #welcome home x reader #welcome home fic

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libraryofloveletters · 3 years

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Just A Phase

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, typical high school nonsense, kinda rude behaviour at first meet, mentions of weed/alcohol and the consumption of, typical cocky jock behaviour, few swear words, being tipsy/drunk

Category: fluff and a little angst

Word Count: 5.4k

Author’s Note: I just started writing and this is where I ended up so yeah also I feel like I haven’t written in a million years, forgive me if this is shitty // I referred to Buck as Evan for the first little bit because he and the reader had been introduced yet. // thank you to my darling @floralbuckleys for their help!

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Senior Year Of High School.

Evan Buckley, certified jock and bad boy.

He was the type of guy that only had a soft spot for you, but you didn’t know that yet. Truthfully he wasn’t a mean guy - people just perceived him that way because he was on the football team and popular. He had somewhat of a troublesome reputation.

People knew where he went, trouble followed.

You, on the other hand, came from a somewhat above average family. Your mom’s a nurse and dad’s a lawyer. They always had big hopes and dreams for you, for you to go off to Harvard in the fall and follow in your father’s footsteps but you didn’t want that.

You dreamt of being a writer - you couldn't bring yourself to tell your parents that. Since you were young, they had instilled “you’re going to go to Harvard” in you.

You couldn’t back out now.

See, high school worked a certain way. You kept to your circles and didn’t mingle with those that didn’t fit into your circle. You and Evan didn’t run in the same circle - he was a troublesome jock and you were a smart preppy girl.

Being the preppy kid meant volunteering where you could to bulk up your college application hence why you were at school on a Friday afternoon, waiting for the kids to show up. You were part of some tutor program that your chemistry teacher put you into.

It was mostly just kids that needed some clarification on their work and the occasional jock that needed to pass a course to stay on the team.

You weren't surprised when a group of noisy jocks stumbled in the study hall, reeking of sweat from practice.

You were surprised to see Evan, he hadn't been in there before.

“Settle down boys” Mrs. Jacobs told them before sending each guy off to a tutor, leaving Evan standing beside her. “You can head over to y/n” she pointed at you, you gave him a small smile when you glanced up. He looked unpleasant, like he didn’t want to be there.

He made his way over nonetheless. “Good afternoon” you say quietly, unsure if he heard you. He grumbles a hello as he sits down.

The first few minutes, it was quiet. He sat there flipping through his textbook and scribbling down answers into the notebook in front of him.

“Is there anything I can help you-” “I'm not stupid.”

You glance at him, eyes catching his blue ones looking back at you. “I never said you were.”

“I'm only here because I didn’t turn in my mid term project and now stupid Mr. Jefferson thinks I don't understand this shit” he explains himself.

You hum, glancing down at the notebook in front of him, pulling it towards you. Reading over the sheet, all the answers were right. A hum of satisfaction slips pass your lips as you slide the notebook back over to him.

“Not just another dumb jock then.” your eyes study his face after the statement. His lips curl into a small smile, a hum as he turns his attention back to his paper.

“So prep life must be dull - no parties, all study.”

“Who says prep kids don't party ?”

He chuckles, “maybe the lack of prep kids at the parties.” “I’ll have you know, I party plenty, Evan.”

Once again, he chuckles. “The phrasing of that statement shows that you clearly don’t- but call me Buck, all the guys do.” he slides the notebook over to you.

“Check this over, I'll be back” you watched as he stepped out of the study hall and disappeared into the hallway.

A few minutes pass by, you’re tired and in need of a nap but you blink away the tiredness to read his work. There’s a voice behind you and then you feel something heavy on your chair. Leaning back to figure out what it was, the back of your head hit something hard. You shift in your seat and look up to see your head has hit Buck’s torso.

“How's the work, peach ?” his voice is low, the drop in octave from before causes butterflies in your stomach.

Your brows furrow at the nickname, he noticed your confusion and glances down at your top and your eyes follow his only to see that your peach colour bra was sticking out from the top of your shirt.

You had stretched back into your seat when he stepped out and you hadn't noticed the shift in your clothing.

Pulling the top of your shirt back up, he smiles and returns to his seat. You clear your throat, head down and eyes on the work in front of you as you could feel the blush on your face.

“Um, the work is fine.”

“Do you have plans tonight ?”

“No, why?”

“Come with me to Johnson’s party, you can show me how prep kids party” he smiles, his words are teasing you- taunting you even. “I would, but my parents are out of town so I don’t have the car and I have to watch the house.”

“The house won’t disappear if you’re gone for a few hours and I'll pick you up then. What’s your address ?”

“Buck, I really shouldn't”

“Y/n, come on. Pull the stick out your ass for one night and enjoy senior year. You can go back to Harvard prep tomorrow.”

His word choice doesn't shock you, it’s quite on brand for him. He’s looking at you, waiting for your answer and you can't help but give in.

Taking the pen from him, you scribble your address and number on his notebook. “See you at 7?” picking your bag up before slinging it over your shoulder.

“7? Peach, the party doesn’t start ‘till 9. I’ll pick you up at 10:30.”

“Oh um- okay.” you hum, confused but you agree anyways.

---

10:45 and you were sitting on your couch, glancing at your phone and back to the window.

You had been stood up once before but to be stood up by a jock, and a popular one ? Will be the death of any social life you had.

Finally there’s a knock on your door and you get up a little faster than you would have liked but you make your way over. Pulling it open, you met with Buck.

“Ready ?”

“Sure, let me grab my phone” you leave the door open, stepping back to the couch. Buck had disappeared from the doorway when you returned, you locked up and followed what looked like headlights to the driveway.

Buck sat on his bike, he scoots forwards a bit before patting the space behind him.

“No.” you mumble.

“What ?”

“I’m not getting on that thing.”

“That thing ? I'm offended. Come on, you’ll be fine.”

“Evan, no.”

Buck gets up, making his way over to you. His hands grab yours, looking at you now. “Y/n, I promise you that you’ll be fine. Can we go now ?”

“I’ll kill you if something happens to you” you grumbled as you reluctantly made your way over to the bike. Buck gets on first, you mirror his actions. Your hands were to your side, Buck reached back and wrapped them around his waist.

“You good back there ?”

“As good as I could be.”

The house, who you assumed belonged to Johnson’s parents, (you had no idea who Johnson was because you barely ever went to the football games) reeked of alcohol and weed.

Your face didn’t hide your displeasure as well as you thought it had. Buck chuckled as he slung his arm over your shoulder.

“So is this what you do ?” you shout over the loud music, Buck was saying hello to someone he knew and wasn't paying attention to what you had asked him.

You manage to wiggle your way out of his grip and find your way to the kitchen. It’s a few minutes later that Buck finds you sipping on a beer.

“You drink ?” he gives you a questionable look with a smile on his face.

“You brought me to a party so I'll do what people do at a party” you hum, leaning back against the counter. He finds his way to you, leaning back against the counter too.

“Enjoying the party ?”

“Not really, you kinda left me to talk to some guy for twenty minutes”

“That guy happens to be our star quarterback.”

“I care why?” you glance up at him. Buck’s face is pure amusement, you aren't sure if you’re the cause of that or something else but the way he's looking at you- you can feel the butterflies again.

“Buck!” a group of guys shout as they make their way into the kitchen. They all say hello to him, some are drinking, some are shoving chips into their mouths.

You stay quiet while Buck talks to them and judging by their varsity jackets, it was safe to assume that they were on the team with Buck.

“Who’s your friend ?” a brunette guy asks him, stepping towards you.

“I’m y/n, you are?” you ask before Buck could.

“Mike, call me Johnson.”

“Oh, so this is your place ? Cute house” you give him a smile, he laughs.

“How do you know Buck?” Johnson asks, he was nosy for a drunk guy.

“Just bumped into each other, we have class together” you lie, not sure if Buck wanted them to know how you really met, Buck gives you a small smile.

“You’re pretty, how about a dance ?” his hand grabs yours.

“Thanks but no thanks” you give a polite smile before pulling your hand away.

Johnson takes a step forward, his hand reaching out and grabbing your hip. “C’mon, dance with me” you could smell the alcohol on him- he reeked. You push his hand off, “I said no thank you” you tell him once more, being ever so polite.

“Y/n, c’mon, one dance baby” he takes another step, he’s now face to face with you. Before you could say anything, Buck is in front of you, between you and Johnson.

“Dude, she said no. Leave her alone.”

Buck’s sudden need to protect you was much appreciated. Usually if a guy did that, especially a jock, you’d be weird out because they never pay attention to you- but Buck, you had this indescribable feeling, pride, satisfaction, maybe even relief ?

“She’s not even your girl, why are you protecting her?”

“Doesn’t matter, she said no so get out of her fucking face.” Buck’s hand was against his chest, pushing him away as his other hand reached back for yours. It would be cheesy to say that your hand fit in his like it was made to be there but it was true.

Buck’s hand was still in yours as he pulled you out the back door. Your back was up against the wall as he stood in front of you.

“Are you okay ?” you could hear the concern in his voice - different from his usual tone.

At a loss for words, his eyes study your face. Johnson was a douche and he knew that, he mentally cursed himself for even bringing you here.

“Y/n.. talk to me” he takes a step towards you.

“Buck,” your hand presses against his chest, “I'm fine. It’s not the first time a drunk guy has hit on me”

A breath of relief slipped past his lips, “do you want to leave?” his face softens when he asks. “No, I'm alright.”

“Stay here, I'll be back” his hand comes down and squeezes your waist gently before he steps back into the house.

It was a while before Buck returned. He had disappeared into the house for half an hour and when he returned, you were by the pool with a pingpong ball in hand.

“Suck it!” your loud laugh filled his ears, you took a sip from the red cup in your hand and you watched as the guy across from you drank the beer in the cup that the ball landed in.

“Looks like you’re having fun” Buck smiles, now beside you.

“Hey!” you reeked of beer at this point. “I’m having fun” your words come out in a slurred mumble.

“Mhm okay, I think it’s time to head home” Buck takes the cup from you and sets it down.

“What ?” Your hand reaches for the cup again, a pout evident on your face.

Buck’s hands finds your waist, hoisting you up and over his shoulder. A louder than expected gasp left your mouth, you felt the cold breeze against your legs as he walked towards the front of the yard.

He put you down in the backseat of a car but you knew you came with his bike so you were confused, just as you go to ask, he scoots you over and gets in the back with you. Buck’s arm is over your shoulder, you’re so tired that you just lean into him.

You had noticed you fell asleep and when you woke, you were on the porch swing at your house with Buck’s hand in your pocket.

“Whatcha looking for?” he glances up at you when he hears your voice.

“Keys.”

“Other pocket”

He manages to find the keys and get the door open. Getting you in the house was another story. “Y/n, come on” he pulls your hands in an attempt to get you up but you weren’t budging.

What happened to you being a prep kid and not drinking ? He didn’t even think it was possible to get drunk that fast.

“No, tired” you mumbles, making yourself comfortable on the porch swing. “Do you want your parents to come home and find you here? I’m cool with leaving you here if that’s the case” Buck teased, he had no idea when your parents were coming home.

The mention of your parents finding you outside, drunk, horrified you. You got up so quick, you nearly toppled over. Buck helped you inside and onto the couch. He disappeared for a moment and then returned with a glass of water.

“Small sips” he settles beside you, watching as you take a sip. You hum, resting your head on his shoulder as his arm comes over your shoulder.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

He felt your head shift, now looking up at him, eyes full of sleep. You were studying his face, from the birthmark above his eye to his pink lips.

“I really like you, you know” your words filled with sleep as your eyes drooped, you blinked a few times, forcing yourself to stay awake.

Buck chuckles, “that’ll pass peach, I’m just a phase.” He hummed quietly, fingers running through your hair as you drift to sleep.

The Monday after the party, you saw Buck in the hallway after waking up to an empty house on the couch, head pounding even in the deafening silence and and you can’t quite remember how you got home.

Buck had been radio silence since then but you weren't sure why. He was walking in from the front doors and you were by your locker. You turn to speak to him but he barely glances at you before continuing his conversation with Johnson.

From that day, you never spoke to Buck again. Last you saw him was graduation day and last you had heard was that he was in college and you were headed off to Harvard.

----

Present.

You had become a big shot lawyer, everything your parents wanted. Moved out to LA to start your own firm and everything was going well until this morning.

You had barely walked into the office when the fire alarm went off. The sudden alarm caused an onset of commotion in the office, the woman next to you bumped into you, spilling your hot cup of coffee onto you.

She mumbled a sorry as she passed but you could feel the heat coming from where the liquid had spilt. Nonetheless, you made your way out, the sound of the sirens from fire trucks blaring.

Not that you didn’t enjoy seeing the handsome firefighters (or so your co-workers seem to say) but you had a ton of paperwork to do for an upcoming case you had and you barely started.

You stood by the curb, watching as the firefighters made their way over to the crowd and into the building to clear it.

“Ma'am ?” A firefighter made his way over to you, there was a helmet in his hand as he passed a hand through his hair. You glance up from your phone, to see what he wanted.

“May I take a look?” his eyes shifted to your chest where there is currently a coffee stain on your white shirt. “Oh, thank you but no. I’m fine”

“Are you sure? Because that’ll leave a pretty nasty mark if you don't get it cleaned. If you aren’t comfortable, we have a female medic” he offered, hoping you’d consider.

“You’re a medic ?” you asked, looking him up and down. He nods, taking a step back. He begins walking back to the ambulance and you follow him. “Do you want me to get her?”

“No, you’re a professional, it’s cool” you give him a small smile before moving your shirt so he could check.

The firefighter’s hand was now right under your collarbone, dabbing at your skin with some gauze. His fingers were cold, you weren’t sure if it was actually his fingers or the gloves that were cold but either way you looked at him.

“What’s your name ?”

“Diaz, Eddie Diaz” he tells you, flashing you a smile before going back to his job.

You hum, staying still as Eddie rubs something on your skin.

That’s when you saw him.

The same blue eyes, the same blonde hair, the same gorgeous smile that always played in your mind. Not a day went by that you didn’t think of him. You had always wondered what he ended up doing, he was smart and destined for great things, there was more for him than a small life in a place where no one ever really did anything.

Every guy you had dated, you compared to him. It was always something- they didn’t look like him, they didn’t act like him, they didn’t treat you the way he did, they wouldn't stand up for you like he did.

He lived rent free in your mind.

“Ma'am?” Eddie’s voice broke your gaze. “Y/n,” you corrected him, “ma’am is for old women” your eyes going back to Buck. Eddie noticed your lack of attention and followed your gaze.

“Do you know Buck?”

“He still lets people call him that ?” you chuckle to yourself, feeling Eddie’s eyes burning a hole into you.

Before you could answer, his radio buzzed before a voice came through, “building’s clear. Start directing people back in.” Eddie looks over at you, you’re already getting out of the ambulance.

“Keep that clean and dry” were his last words to you after you left.

---

It wasn’t until you were back in the building that you realized your phone was in the ambulance.

You were majorly screwed.

Remembering the medic’s name which was the only thing you remember mids the confusion and seeing Buck after 10+ years. You asked around the office if anyone knew what station responded to the call. You had contacts that worked for the city but the lack of phone made it hard for you to call and find out.

Finally giving in, you google the medic’s name. There were a few articles that had photos but none of them said anything that helped. There was a video from Taylor Kelly at channel 8 news, some sort of video about the fire station.

Station 118- that was 10 minutes down the road and you pass it everyday on the way to work. The thoughts began filling your head, had Buck been there all along?

12 years- 12 long, empty years that you acted like he didn’t exist and that you didn’t want to know what happened between you two but he was right down the road.

You didn’t even know if you wanted to talk to him. You had finally come to peace with it even though a part of you will always long for what could have been. Feelings aside, you set out to the station to get your phone.

Upon arriving, there were a few guys by the trucks. You asked for Eddie, assuming that he might have an idea of where your phone ended up or if they even found it.

“Up the stairs and he should be somewhere up there” the guy pointed, you thanked him before heading towards the stairs. When you got upstairs, it was empty.

You weren't sure if you should go back down or wait so you sort of awkwardly stood there, glancing around the room. The station was nicer than you had imagined it to be, not that you really had an idea of what to expect.

Your back was to the kitchen when someone tapped your shoulder. “Can I help you?” his voice called out as you turned.

Buck.

You let out a breath, your eyes studying his perfect face for a moment. Do you say something or just pretend like you didn’t know him?

“Yeah, I'm uh- I'm looking for Eddie. I think I left my phone in the ambulance.”

“Do I know you from somewhere ?”

“I work at the building down the road, 14th street. You guys were there earlier, hence the phone in the ambulance” you tell him, hoping he drops the topic.

“Y/n! Hey! What are you doing here?” You see Eddie call from behind Buck.

Thank god.

“I left my phone in the ambulance. I figured you’d know what happened to it” you’ve stepped past Buck and towards Eddie now. “I haven’t seen it, but maybe it’s still in there. Come with me, we can check for it”

Eddie was making his way down the stairs and you were behind him when Buck called your name.

Not y/n.

Peach.

You paused, taking a deep breath in before turning to face him. “I thought I remembered you from somewhere” he smiled, him and his stupid smile.

“I’m in a rush, Evan. Plus, I'm not in the mood to reminisce.”

The smile dropped from his face, the guilt crept up on you. The feeling of your stomach twisting, sighing before making your way down to Eddie who was by the ambulance, your phone in hand.

“There’s more to the story than I thought,” Eddie hands the phone over, you give him a hum and thank him. “Let me walk you out.” he follows you out to your car.

“You know, whatever he did- he’s changed. He’s a good guy.” Eddie says, his voice sincere.

“I know, I just- I don't know”

“What did he do? If I can ask”

“We were- I don't know what we were. We hung out in high school, just once but he was different from the other guys. He genuinely cared. We went to a party together and he brought me home after. I remember falling asleep with him in the house and the next morning he was gone. Total radio silence that whole weekend and when I saw him at school the following week, he acted like he didn’t know me - it was like that for the rest of senior year. We never spoke after that.”

Here you were pouring your heart out to a firefighter who you had only met an hour ago who also had seen your bare chest (in a professional way, of course) on a Tuesday morning in the parking lot.

“Wow- I can see why you wouldn’t want to talk to him.”

“Yeah, thank you for the phone though. I gotta get back to work”

“Wait, let me get your number”

You pause, looking at him with furrowed brows. He seemed confused then he realized how that sounded. “Oh god- no not like that, sorry. I meant maybe we could grab a drink sometimes, as friends and maybe you could tell me more about high school Buck ?”

“Um- yes to the number and drinks but I don’t know about Buck” you hand the phone back over to him, telling him that you’d text him.

---

It was a while before you heard from Eddie, he said he was off on Saturday if you were up for drinks and weren't busy. The whole team was going out but he invited you along to join them.

After some back and forth “I couldn't intrude” and “you won’t be, come join us” you finally gave in.

Now it’s 9pm and you, Eddie and Buck are sitting at a booth. Coincidentally, everyone else was busy. Chimney and Hen who you hadn’t met yet, were with their significant others and kids. So that left the 3 of you together.

You wanted to walk back out when you saw it was only the two of them but Eddie had seen you and called you over. His phone buzzed just as Buck came back with drinks.

“Everything okay?” Buck asked his friend, Eddie, still typing away on his phone. “Huh? Yeah, it’s Carla. Chris is running a fever” you could hear the concern in his voice.

“Chris is your son?”

“Yeah- I'm sorry I got to go. I’ll make it up to you. Drinks on me another night” Eddie gave your shoulder a squeeze as he stood.

“No yeah, of course. Go, it’s fine” you smiled.

“Let me know if you need anything” Buck shifts towards Eddie, the two of them seem to have some sort of routine or way of how things work between them.

And now there were two.

Buck sipped on his beer, you sat across from him, your nails tapping against the bottle in front of you. He was the first one to speak.

“So, how have you been?”

“Good. You?”

“Good too. I don’t know if you remember my sister but she had a baby recently so I've been hanging out with her after work”

“Oh, that’s nice. Maddie right?”

“Yeah, she had a little girl. She’s the cutest little girl ever.” Buck pulls his phone out, showing you a photo of him holding a baby in a blanket with a brunette beside him. The woman beside him, Maddie you assumed, was smiling at Buck, fixing the blanket while he looked at the camera, the joy evident on his face.

“She’s adorable and your sister looks the same, she hasn’t aged a day” you hum, passing the phone over to him.

Back to awkward silence.

“What happened to us?” Buck’s question catches you off guard.

“What happened to us? You happened.”

“What? I thought we were friends.” Your eyes met, his full of confusion and yours with displeasure.

“Friends don’t disappear in the middle of the night with no explanation and ignore them for the rest of senior year.” You get up, grab your phone and make your way to the door. Buck’s calling out to you but you don’t want to stop and talk to him.

The night was cold, the wind hit your bare shoulders and you shivered for a moment before walking. Buck was still calling out your name, he had followed you out the bar.

“Y/n! Stop! Y/n, c’mon. Please!” His hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. You pull your hand back.

“No! You don’t get to do that. Act like everything is fine when you disappeared with no explanation. I know we weren’t best friends but I thought we were at least friends. That fucking hurt, Evan.”

“Fine,” he sighs, looking at you. “You want the truth ?” Your brows raised, waiting for him to continue.

“You told me you liked me. You were a good kid, going to Harvard, which you obviously did” gesturing at you, he continued. “I didn’t know what I wanted and I didn’t want you to feel like you needed to be by my side until I figured it out. I knew you would resent me for that and I couldn’t do that to you, I couldn’t do it to myself.”

“That’s selfish. It’s about you ? That’s why you left with no explanation ? You couldn’t do it to yourself ? Man the fuck up Buck, life isn’t about you.”

“You think I don’t know that ?! You think I didn’t think about you all the time? That I didn’t miss you?”

“Don’t start with that shit. You knew where I would be. You said it yourself, I was “a good kid, going to Harvard” so if you really missed me, you could have found me.”

“Y/n, be real. We were just out of high school, what means did I have to go searching for you? I had my own shit to deal with.”

“Just stop, I don’t even want to know.”

“No, you stop”

“No you.”

“Y/n” his voice was stern, the annoyance clearly there.

“Evan.” your tone matched his.

That stupid smug smile of his was on his face, that was enough to make you roll your eyes. “’Kay, I'm over your shit.” turning away from him, you go to walk away but his hand grabs yours.

Still fit like it was made to be there.

Before you could register what was happening, Buck’s lips were on yours. Maybe time stopped when Buck’s lips met yours but your heart didn’t- it felt like it was beating a million times seconds and the butterflies in your stomach were restless.

It wasn't clear to either of you at the moment that it had started pouring rain but it didn’t matter. There was this raw emotion in the way his hands felt on your waist or how his chest was pressed to yours.

Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t open his eyes slightly, sneaking a guilty peek at you just to make sure you weren’t a fiction of his imagination. Every breath he took smelt of lavender and honey, the same scent that had lingered on his mind since the day he met you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible.

Maybe this was meant to be, fate bringing back what was meant for him to him or maybe this really was all a fabrication of his imagination but he wanted to live in his moment forever.

It wasn't until thunder rumbled that he pulled away. The rain had soaked your clothes and hair, your makeup had smudged and half of your lipstick was on Buck.

The same stupid smug smile on his face.

“God,” rolling your eyes at him. “You’re so annoying.” wiping your lips with the back on your hand, hoping that you got all the lipstick off.

“Yeah, I'm the annoying one” Buck’s face twisted, giving you a playful shove as you stepped towards him. Your thumb comes up to wipe the lipstick off him. Buck’s arm lifts, now over your shoulder.

The two of you looked at each other as you made your way down the street.

“Just a phase huh ?” you hum, glancing at Buck.

The blonde let out a chuckle, “maybe not.”

---

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @spencersendgame @keenmarvellover @beth-winchester21 @fernandaweasley2 @yikesyikesyikes95 @hotchsdarling @duhbar1975 @wowitsel @mrspeacem1nusone @jillys-feral-fandoms @iris-oaklee-carter-911oc @hailsstormthings @averyhotchner @captainxholmes @venusrosepetal @babybuckleys @looney-literature @caitsymichelle13@artemishunter18 @may-grants @floralbuckleys @mrs-dr-reid

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tendouluvr · 4 years

Text

aizawa calling you clingy - gn reader

- [attempt at] angst to fluff

- warnings: being called clingy, aizawa gets annoyed with reader and berates them, one use of the word ‘shit’

- wc: 1.9k

a/n: this wasnt......as sad as i wanted... i cant tell if im just not so good at writing angst or immune to it T_T

once again, not edited!

#! aizawa!!!! eee

#! hes a levelheaded man so arguments are rare

#! u both trust one another so theres no reason to have doubts in ur relationship

#! being his s/o, he tells u things thats not so easy to tell others over time, and you’re patient enough to let him take however much time he needs to let u in

#! however, years of keeping to himself most of the time doesnt just disappear even if you’re his s/o

#! so aizawa does have this tendency to close off and distance himself from u bc of his stress and insecurities

walking through the spacious halls of ua, you were headed towards your lovely boyfriend. aizawas been pretty busy lately with teaching his class, making sure no one is being left behind progress wise, doing his job as a pro-hero, and then spending his free time training with shinsou.

you knew showing up at school unexpectedly was something aizawa found irky, that’s why you made sure to tell him the night before that you would be coming during lunch time to bring him some yummy homemade food.

humming softly to yourself, you finally reached the door opening to class 1-A and walked in. the classroom was empty, but there at the front was no one other than mr. aizawa shouta. you quickly greeted him with a smile and he turned to look at you.

“what are you doing here?” he slowly asked with a look of confusion.

“i brought you some food! did you eat yet? i hope not, i made-,” you quickly stopped talking once you noticed the look he was giving you.

“why are you here? i already told you, you shouldnt be showing up without letting me know first. our relationship is quiet, if the students see they’ll get noisy and ask questions, i’ll get bombarded by my colleagues, and it’ll put you in danger if words get out. did anyone see you coming here? can you listen to me for once instead of continuing to always be near me? you’re so damn clingy and need to start thinking about the consequences your action will bring. i already ate, just go home before anything happens.”

your jaw dropped a little after hearing what he just said to you. did he not remember what you told him last night?

worst of all, you couldnt believe he just called you clingy. you just wanted to do something nice for him by making his favorite food hoping that it’ll relieve some of the stress thats been building up, but he just thought of you as clingy.

fine, if clingy is what you are then you’ll stop bothering him. you quickly whispered an apology, not sure if he could hear or not, and began making your way back home as fast as possible. the food you made for him was still tightly grasped in your hand.

due to the new dormitories, aizawa stays at ua majority of the time. he comes home to your shared apartment whenever he can to spend time with you. unfortunately, those time aren’t usually much because as soon as he’s free, he’s quick to do something else.

once you’ve made it home, you packed the food away and put it in the fridge. you felt your phone buzzing repeatedly, already guessing who it could possibly be, you took it out to see it was your boyfriend.

shou <3: im sorry

shou <3: honey, im so sorry. pls text me back when u can

shou <3: i know what i said hurted u, but i promise u i dont mean it. pls just call me or text me so we can talk about this

shou <3: i have to go back now. but i love u. so much.

staring at your screen, you contemplated texting him back.

letting out a sigh, you decided not to.

putting your phone to the side, you walked to the bedroom and changed out of your clothes into the comfy pjs you were wearing right before you left.

seeing that there was nothing for you to do other than wallow in your insecurities and let out a few tears, you got into bed and made yourself comfortable for an afternoon nap.

aizawa on the other hand was at school and distracted. his own words kept replaying over and over in his head and all he wants to do is smack himself a few times (after comforting u ofc).

his students could tell he was in a badder mood than usual so they collectively agreed to not worsen it (one particular student does not care. can u guess?). aizawa just wanted the day to pass so he can apologize to you directly and make it up with some cuddling.

despite being distracted with planning his apology and thinking about you, he was still teaching as he should and constantly telling his students to be quiet because he’s intimidating like that.

a few hours passed, the students are back in their dorms and some of the teachers are still in school finishing up some work. the hallways were empty and silent, and the weather outside was nice and calm - not too sunny with just the right amount of wind.

however, if you were to peek your head inside of class 1-A at the moment, the environment is an exact 180. aizawa is quickly trying to grade the remaining stack of papers he has on his desk so he can leave as soon as he can. there’s papers everywhere, he’s not so sure where the answer key went off to but to hell with the answer key. he just needs to go home.

his hair is messily tied up and his lips have probably been gnawed off by now. as soon as school ended, he got out his phone to see if you replied and sadly you didn’t. he doesn’t blame you though, considering all of the shit he said to you earlier.

finally writing down the fat score in red pen onto the final paper, he gathers everything and put to the side of his desk and packed up his stuff. his stuff being his yellow sleeping bag and that’s it.

he went to his room first to clean himself up a bit, and then grabbed a taxi to go to your shared apartment. arriving at the front door, he takes out his copy of the key and entered.

first thing he noticed while entering and taking off his shoes was that the apartment was dark and quiet. he made his way to the kitchen first and turned on its lights to check the fridge. in the fridge laid the food you made for him earlier today. he took it out to start heating it up in the microwave then he walks away from the food and to your bedroom.

quietly opening the door, he poked his head in to see you laying on your side with your back facing the door. he assumed you were asleep and gently closed the door to not wake you up. he made his way over to the bed and sat on the edge of it.

you, feeling the bed dip, slowly opened your eyes to be greeted with the sight of your boyfriend gingerly brushing his fingertips across your cheekbones. he notices that you’re awake and looks up to meet your eyes.

making eye contact with him, you quietly grunted and brought the blanket up to cover your face while turning your entire body to the other side to ignore him. aizawa sighed and brought his hand down to rest on your waist as he begins talking.

“yn... i know you’re.. mad at me for the things i said to you earlier, but i’m truly sorry. i know saying i didn’t mean it isn’t good enough for you to forgive me, but i want you to know i’m really really sorry. i’ve been so busy for the past few days, my head is all over the place, seeing you at school just got me overthinking and worried that i ended up saying things about you that’s not true at all. i love you so much, hun. you’re the best thing to happen to me. you don’t have to forgive me now, i understand if you want some space.”

it was silent for some time after he finished his apology. the echoing silence was slowly making aizawa worried that you’ll leave him, but he won’t tell you that. thinking that you wanted space, he lifted his shaky hand off of your waist and moved to get off of the bed when you suddenly grabbed onto his hand to keep him there.

“i...i told you the day before that i was going to be visiting you during lunch time. did you not remember? or even hear me tell you?”

aizawa situated himself back down onto the bed before replying. “if i’m being honest, i don’t really remember much of that day at all. my brain was occupied with work and rest, so i was practically drained by the end of the night. i’m sorry i took it out on you, it’s my fault for overworking when i know you’ve been trying to help.”

letting out a soft sigh, you turned your body back towards him. still holding onto his hand, you carefully slotted your fingers in between his and pulled him down to lay with you. he immediately found comfort in this and placed his head into your neck. you could feel his facial hair against your skin making you let out a quiet giggle.

“i love you. i know you have a habit to overwork since that’s all you did before we dated, but please shou, take care of yourself. im not talking physically, cuz you’re already so damn fine, but mentally. i hate seeing you bury yourself in work and training that it even makes me tired just watching you.”

he grumbled something against your neck - his usual reaction to you complimenting him - and held onto you tighter while putting light kisses on your collarbone.

“i know. i will. please bear with me, i know i’m a pain but i’ll always try to be my best for you. i’m never letting you go, love you too much for that.”

“hmm? who said i’m going? you’re stuck with me forever just so you know,” you laughed and patted his head before rising from the bed.

“i heard you heating up the food earlier. get up and come eat,” you tugged aizawa to get him off the bed.

he grumbled once again because he was being forced to leave the warm comfort of your shared bed, but followed you out anyway holding onto your hand.

“wait. you heard me entering? so you were pretending to sleep when i got here?! not funny, babe. not funny. -also don’t take sleep for granted. i did and look where that got me. stop laughing!”

bonus:

it was the next day and aizawa just finished passing out the grades he rushed grading yesterday. even though it was rushed, he was confident that there wasn’t any mistakes-

“aizawa sensei, you marked this question wrong when it’s right. this one too. and this other one on the last page. are you trying to fail me?!” denki dramatically wailed as he showed aizawa his papers.

guess he did make mistakes after all.

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thewritetofreespeech · 3 years

Note

Hiii! I don't know if your requests are open. But i would still like to request one. I would a knb one where the gom+kagami gfs wore a skirt(which shrunk during washing and had no choice but to wear it) and every time they bent, their patience are tested until they couldn't take it anymore. Their s/o completed obvious to the attention they are getting from others.

GOM Boys + Kagami and Short Skirt Reader (f!reader)

Akashi

“[Y/N]-chan, lets go in here.” You pause in your walk with Akashi around town, spending the lovely outside, in front of a pose looking clothing store.

“Here? Why?”

“I thought you might like to buy something in here.” He replied with a soft smile.

“Oh...Akashi-kun...I don’t know. It looks awfully expensive.”

“It’s my treat.” He countered. The corners of his soft smile becoming strained. “I’ll get you anything you want.”

“I appreciate it Akashi-kun, but I couldn’t let you do that. Spending money on me like that would make me feel uncomfortable.”

“[Y/N] please.” Now not only were the corners of his mouth strained, but his voice as well. “I’m trying to put this as delicately as possible but, you’re skirt is too short.” You blink at Akashi. Not expecting that, nor did you really think your skirt was that short. Sure you’d had it since middle school but... “It’s incredibly distracting, and not just for me.” His mouth scrunched in an unflattering frown before it softened again. Those beautiful crimson eyes darting to the left, sending a pack of boys running off. “So please, let me buy you a new skirt or outfit. You look beautiful in anything, so you don’t need a short skirt like that to get my attention.”

That hadn’t been your intention in wearing the skirt today and you blush. “Well....ok.” It was always really hard to argue with him.

Akashi bought you a new outfit in the store; you dare not look at the price tags. You continue on your date hand in hand. Your skirt you had thrown in the shopping bag after changing mysteriously vanishing when you got home.

Aomine

The bell for second period ending chimed, and was soon drowned out by the sound of students shuffling through the halls. You were about to join them to your next class when Ryo asked if you’d seen Aomine. He wasn’t in class, apparently, and he took it upon himself to collect his teammate’s assignments to pass them on to him.

Such a nice guy.

You look towards the window, where the sun was shinning brightly, and sighed. “I’ll give them to him.” You knew exactly where he was.

Climbing the stairs to the roof, you of course find Aomine there. Stretched out like a cat in the warm sun, dozing the day away in the fresh air.

“Honestly Aomine, you couldn’t even make it to second period?”

The tall, tan basketball star opened his eyes slowly from his cat nap and grinned at you. "What up with your skirt?”

Your cheeks turn red and you tried to futilely pull the front down. “I-I-It shrunk in the wash! The school was supposed to get me a new one but they didn’t have my size!”

“Nah. Keep it. I like this one much better.” His grin grew wider. “Did you wear those blue panties just for me today? Since it’s my favorite color?”

Your blush deepened and your growled at your boyfriend. You swing your arm to swat at his propped up knee but he caught your wrist and pulled you down. Forcing you to fall haphazardly on top of him; just like he planned.

“A-Aomine! Q-Quit it!”

“Nope. No can do.” He replied. His hand on your thigh. “I held out as long as I could. You can’t expect me not to react when you wear your battle panties in front of me.”

Needless to say, neither of you made it to third period.

Kagami

Another lively afternoon at Serin basketball practice. You were sitting on the bleachers, watching your friends and boyfriend, play 2-on-2 games around the court for training. You would cheer Kagami and some of the others on. Doing your part to motivate the team as your way to show support.

Riko finally blew her whistle to call for a break and the team let out a collective sigh of relief.

“H-H-Here!” You look put at Kagami when he came up to you, cheeks flushed, holding out his warm up jacket. “Put it on!”

“I...uh..thanks Kagami-kun. But I’m not cold.” You assume that why he gave it to you.

“It’s not that! Just put it on! Don’t worry. It’s not dirty or anything.”

“Um...ok. But why?”

“Don’t worry about it!” He snapped. “Just put it on!”

You frown and grumble a little, before you demand, “no. Not until you tell me why.”

Kagami grumbled himself and looked away. “....your skirt....” He said it so quietly that you have to give a little ‘hn?’ and he repeated, “your skirt. It keeps riding up when you cheer. I can’t practice right.....”

You blink in confusion, then blush. You hadn’t thought about your skirt coming up when you cheered. Now you felt embarrassed.

You took his jacket and put it on. Obviously swimming in it with your boyfriend’s large frame, which was good for once because it fell past your skirt for coverage. “Is this better Kagami-kun?”

The red head’s eyes went a little wide, and his cheeks darked to almost the shade of his hair. “N-N-No!” He exclaimed, taking you by surprise, before he looked away and scratched his head. “Now you look even cuter......”

Kise

“It was so nice of manager-san to give me this skirt. I can’t believe I own something from a designer now!”

Kise grumbled beside you as you left his photoshoot. His hand attached to yours squeezing it tighter as you walked. “Kise-kun? Is something wrong?”

The blonde seemed to realize that he was frowning, and quickly bounced back to his jovial self. “What? Oh, no. Nothing’s wrong [Y/N]-cchi. Just tired I guess.” You give a suspicious hum at Kise. Knowing that when he did 180s like this that something really was wrong.

“Kise, you know you can tell me anything. If something wrong, just tell me.”

“It’s....your skirt.” He finally confessed. Looking slightly to the left, away from you. “I’m all for fashion, and it was really nice of manager-san to give it to you, but....it’s too short. And I didn’t want to say anything because I sound like a cranky old man, but it’s true! [Y/N]-cchi’s perfect legs are only for me! I don’t want anyone else to see them!”

You snicker at Kise’s outburst. He could really be so silly sometimes.

“If you didn’t want me to wear it, then why didn’t you say anything.”

“I didn’t want to insult manager-san.” He told you. “He’s helped a lot with my career. And he really was being so nice to you. Plus, green is not my color.” Meaning he was jealous.

You giggle again and lean up to give him a kiss. “Lets head back to my place then and I’ll take it off. I’ll put on something more ‘appropriate’ for you.”

“Or....maybe don’t.” His hand squeezed yours again, only this time his face held on to a bright grin when he looked at you.

“We’ll see.”

Kuroko

You fiddle with the charm on your phone as you head down the street, leaving your apartment to go meet Kuroko.

He was supposed to meet you at your house, but when you didn't see him outside you just assumed that he got mixed up and went to the bookstore you had been planning to go to instead. Boys could be so spacey sometimes.

"Short," you jump a little at the sound behind you, seeing Kuroko there. "Your skirt is short."

"K-Kuroko-kun! Don't scare me like that! Wait....what?" It took you a minute to process what Kuroko was saying, being startled like that. "My skirt is too short?"

"Yes." Kuroko replied in his normal, soft tone, with a little nod. "It's too short."

You grumble a little and stamp your foot. "Who are you to tell me my skirt is too short??"

"No one I guess. But, I'm your boyfriend." He said. As if you needed to be reminded. "And I don't like other people staring at you, [Y/N]-kun." You blink once back at him. You hadn't noticed anyone staring. Nor had you noticed the slight tightening in Kuroko's fist until now. "It's why I've been following behind you for a while now. To keep your butt safe."

You let out a startled squeal and swat Kuroko in the arm as your cheeks turn red. "D-Don't say stuff like that!" You scold while he rubbed his arm. But...maybe he was right. Maybe it was too short. "Fine. Follow me home and I'll go change."

"Right behind you." Kuroko said with a smirk as he came along.

Midorima

‘Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!’ You repeated over and over in your mind as you sprinted in a mad dash towards school.

You alarm hadn’t gone off, and it was honestly a miracle you had woken up even remotely close to the time with just enough time to make it out the door in a panic. If you some how made it to school on time you would never forget to set your alarm again!!

Cresting the hill, you see the gates to the school coming into view. And, more importantly, Midorima standing there. He was always on time, so he must have been waiting for you. Your heart swelled at the thought of it, and it gave you the extra boost to run fast towards him.

“Midorima-kun!”

“Don’t shout. In any case why are you so -- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WEARING?!?!”

You come to an abrupt halt in front of your boyfriend. Not expecting that response when you got close to him. “W-What? My uniform?”

“That’s not your uniform! That skirt is too short!”

You look down and turn about as red as Midorima was as you realize the skirt you had pulled out of your closet was your middle school uniform skirt. Not your high school one. They looked close enough in color you hadn’t noticed, and thought the ‘breeze’ was from you running. Could this day get any worse!!

There was movement out of the corner of your eye and you look up from your moping to see a field of green being offered to you. “The Oha Asa is never wrong.”

“M-Midorima-kun.....” You feel like you’re about to cry as you take the scarf and wrap it around your waist. This would do, for now. At least until you could get to your gym locker after first period.

“Let’s go. We’ll be late for class.”

You smile at Midorima and fall in beside him as you head to class. Spirts lifted. Maybe you should listen to the Oha Asa more too.

Murasakibara

"What is the process called when an animal reproduces with itself? Is it A) Biomorphic reproduction? B) Symbiotic reproduction? Or C) Asexual reproduction? ....Mura-kun....? Mura-kun? Are you even listening to me?!"

"Ccccccaaaannnn'ttt...." Murasakibara whined from his place across from you at the table. Looking rather comical scrunched up like that.

"Jeez Mura-kun. I offer to help you study. The least you can do is pay attention."

"Ehh.... I can't. [Y/N]-chin is trying to seduce me."

"W-What??"

The towering teen smirked before he licked the potato chip salt off his fingers, then tugged at the hem of your skirt. "[Y/N]-chin's legs look like tasty mochi. I can't resist."

Your cheeks turn pink and you bat his hand away before returning to your book. "Y-Your...You're not going to get out of this so easy Murasakibara-kun! You need to study!"

Murasakibara frowned with a low hum of disappointment before retuning to his potato chips. "I'd rather have mochi......"

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 2) - Baseball Caps & Stroller Naps

Summary: The reader gets into the swing of things around the Ackles household and starts having more one on one time with Jensen. He even offers to set her up with a friend of his. When he invites her to a family outing as a friend though, she gets another glimpse that he might not be as put together as he appears...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Daddy!Jensen

Word Count: 5,900ish

Warnings: language, mention of death of a spouse/death of a parent

A/N: Things are starting to happen! This was also written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo!

________

“Good morning,” you said the next day as Jensen walked into the kitchen covered in sweaty workout clothes.

“Morning,” he said, going to the fridge to grab a drink. “Get the kids to school okay?”

“Yup,” you said, Jensen sniffing the air and humming as he walked over to where a loaf of banana bread was cooling in the rack. “Ah, it’s still too hot. Wait another half hour.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “It smells amazing by the way. I don’t think anything’s been baked in this house in six months.”

“I’ve always enjoyed it,” you said, Jensen taking a seat on top of the counter. He chugged down the cold bottle of water, some of it dripping down the corners of his mouth. “Enjoy sleeping in today?”

“You don’t know the half of it. I feel amazing.”

“You look rested for the first time since I’ve met you,” you said. “You should sleep in on the weekends more too. The kids don’t need to be up at dawn.”

“No, they don’t,” he said. “I do love sleep too. You do okay with getting the three of them going on your own today?”

“Yeah. JJ’s old enough to get herself dressed and make her bed and do a few things on her own. The twins are a balancing act but the trick is to give yourself double the amount of time you think you need and you’ll never be late.”

“Not a bad tip,” he said as you finished wiping off a glass and picked up a pad and pen. “Whatcha working on?”

“Ideas for crafts and that sort of thing. You guys have a lot of supplies already so I was thinking of some ideas to do this week,” you said.

“You know...you can stick them in front of a TV too. They have their shows they like. We aren’t big on tracking screen time,” he said. “As long as they play and do some kind of creative thing everyday they can watch TV for a few hours in a row if they want. Our parents didn’t worry about that shit when we were kids, you know?”

“No, they didn’t do that,” you said. He lifted up the bottom of his muscle tank and wiped off his face, your eyes going straight down to the pad so you wouldn’t risk staring. “Any work scheduled for today?”

“I gotta wash up, head to the brewery for a few to check on things. I have some voice acting work I’m doing right now so I go to a place downtown and record that. That’ll be my afternoon. I can handle making dinner tonight. I should be back around four thirty, maybe a hair after,” he said.

“Alright,” you said. “Anything you need at the store today?”

“Nah, we got plenty here,” he said. He wiped off his face with his shirt again, using his collar this time. You handed him a dish towel and he smiled, rubbing it over his neck and head. “Sorry. I’m dripping aren’t I.”

“A little. Do you work out a lot?” you asked.

“No more than the average person. Try to do thirty minutes in the morning most days of the week. It’s sort of been my only alone time lately,” he said.

“Are you a runner?”

“God no. I’m not built for that. I like boxing and HIIT, weights, that sort of stuff. Part of my job is to look a certain way so if I’m gonna be the tough guy…”

“You gotta look like a tough guy?” you asked. He smiled and you looked him up and down. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re a strong guy, that’s pretty obvious. But you’re not a tough guy.”

“Oh I’m not?” he asked but there was a lightness to his voice.

“Tough guys tend to be assholes. You’re too nice for that,” you said.

“I suppose you have a point,” he said, sliding off the counter. He stepped over to the banana bread and picked up the knife nearby, slicing off a piece for himself and popping it in his mouth. “Hot. Hot.”

“I told you so,” you said with a small laugh.

“Tastes delicious though,” he said with his mouth full. You shook your head as he ate another piece and turned to go upstairs.

“Jensen,” you said, pointing at the sweaty dish towel.

“Ugh, yes mom,” he said, swiping it away with a smile.

“Thank you,” you said, tapping on your notepad. You felt his presence beside you, not to mention the smell, and turned your head up, Jensen smiling back. “Yes?”

“Aren’t you due for a break?” he asked.

“You don’t really get how this nanny thing works yet, do you.”

“Yeah well...I’m not a shitty boss so I guess you’ll have to get used to that too. Take a break Y/N. Have some coffee on the balcony. It’s a sunny January day. Enjoy it,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he pointed at the back door before he headed upstairs. You bit your bottom lip and glanced at the clock. You had been going for over three hours non-stop and one of those had been spent trying to convince a four year old he had to wear pants to daycare.

You turned to leave the kitchen when you heard a tsk. You jumped and slipped on the rug in front of the sink, falling backwards straight down to the hardwood floor.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he said as he rushed over. “I’m always tripping over that thing.”

“I’m fine,” you said as you sat up with his help. Your ass hurt but you knew you’d be alright. “Maybe we move the rug from the very trippable area?”

He swallowed and stared at you for a long moment before you smiled.

“How about we put it outside your office?” you asked softly. He nodded and you picked up one end of the long strip of fabric. He went to the other end and picked it up, backing up as you walked it over to the other side of the house. You laid it out in front of his closed door, smiling as you straightened it up. “There we go. Safe and sound.”

You headed back to the kitchen, Jensen lingering behind you.

“I was...gonna say you can make...you can use my coffee machine,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” you said quietly. “Jensen.”

“Hm?”

“Stuff is stuff. This isn’t a museum. It’s a home. It’s gonna change over time.”

“I know. It’s just that rug...it is so damn ugly and I hate it,” he said with a smile. “I wanted to get rid of it the day she brought it home.”

“Wives have a way of getting the last word in,” you said. He chuckled and you got out a mug for yourself. “Tell me to shove it if this is too personal but are you sure you want to get back out into the dating world? It’s rough out there.”

“It is. Until it isn’t,” he said.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you.”

“Guilty as charged.” He rubbed the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed for a brief moment.

“Women like hopeless romantics,” you said. “Just don’t get taken advantage of for that. There’s some not so nice women out there too.”

“Afraid I’ll fall for some ditz?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think you’d do that. But someone might hurt you and you’ve been through enough. Maybe just...don’t fall in love at first sight or something like that,” you said. “Alright?”

“Never was much good at that,” he said to himself while you grabbed your coffee mug. “You believe in that sort of thing?”

“I’d like to. But you’re more of the expert on falling in love than I am,” you said.

“Maybe it’s not first sight but within a few days, a week, yeah I knew I was in love,” he said.

“Well if that happens again let me know and I’ll make sure this chick is good for you,” you said.

“I didn’t know my nanny came with bodyguard services,” he chuckled.

“That was under special skills on my resume,” you said as you headed over to the door to the balcony. “You should wash up. Don’t want to be late.”

“No I better not be,” he said. He turned to head upstairs, pausing on the first step. “You know, no one’s an expert at falling in love. Even those of us who were once married.”

“Oh don’t be a hopeless romantic for me getting my shit together too. We’ll be here for years,” you laughed.

“Just sayin’...maybe we’ll both find somebody. Not that we need anyone to be happy but...you know what I mean,” he said.

“Men don’t really talk about love like that you know.”

“I do,” he said. You smiled and he returned it.

“That’s why all the good men get taken early, the ones that talk like that,” you said.

“I was older than you when I got married. Maybe I’ll get married again someday. We’re out there. I promise.”

“Go shower,” you said, waving him off. You slipped outside, closing the door behind you. You leaned over the railing with your mug and let out a sigh. “You have to a be a fucking hopeless romantic too don’t you. Fucking perfect at everything.”

You lowered your head and took a deep breath.

“It’s a crush, it’s a crush,” you said, closing your eyes. “Just a crush. He’s your boss and a widow and he bought a birthday cake for me.”

You opened your eyes and glanced into the mug, taking another deep breath.

“He’s just nice. That’s it. Even if he’s…” you trailed off. You took a long sip of the hot liquid, not caring you were burning your tongue. Jensen was simply a nice person and that was that. You had a crush on the attractive single dad you were nannying for. There was nothing wrong with that and you knew for a fact it’d be gone by the end of the week tops.

“Ow,” you groaned a few days later. You opened your eyes and heard a knock at the door to your suite. “Yeah?”

“You okay in there? I thought I heard a crash,” said Jensen.

“I’m fine,” you said, sitting up with a grunt, leaning back against your bed. “Shit.”

“Y/N, are you sure you’re alright?” he asked again.

“No,” you said with a sigh. “The door’s open.”

You peaked through your open door down the hall, Jensen opening the one to the suite and offering a friendly smile. You nodded and he walked inside, frowning at your cut up knee.

“I got blood on the rug,” you said. “Do we have bleach?”

“I thought we agreed earlier this week a rug is just a rug,” he said, squatting down and looking at your knee. He looked up and saw your overturned garbage can in your closet where you’d been trying to reorganize a few clothes. “Next time use the step stool in the garage?”

“Yeah,” you said, your face hot. “I’m fine really. Just want to clean up the blood before it sets in.”

“It’s a few drops,” he said, helping you stand with a wince. “You got any first aid stuff?”

“Yeah,” you said, Jensen crossing his arms. “No.”

“Come on,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders and walking you down the hall. “Scraped up knees are my specialty.”

“Jensen,” you said, stopping at the kitchenette island and bending your leg a few times.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. He left and you hopped over to the couch, stretching your leg out. The bleeding had stopped, just a thin cut on your knee cap where you’d hit it, but you knew you were in for a nasty bruise. He returned with a bottle and cotton ball in one hand, a bandage and ice pack in the other.

“Sorry,” you said, Jensen setting the items down on the coffee table.

“Why would you apologize for getting hurt?” he said.

“I should have my own first aid supplies,” you said.

“Ah. So you’re as stubborn as I am when you’re not feeling great,” he said. You looked down at your lap and took a deep breath.

“Am I fired?” you asked.

“No? Why the fuck would I fire you?” he said.

“I don’t know,” you said, picking up the bottle of rubbing alcohol.

“Have you been fired for getting hurt before?” he asked, watching you hold the cotton ball against the open bottle top and tip it over, soaking the liquid in. You pretended to not hear him and put the bottle back, wiping the ball over the cut, a deep red mark already on your skin. “Y/N.”

“Yes, I have,” you said. You set the ball on the table and picked up the bandage, trying to angle it over your knee. He rolled his eyes and took it out of your hand, bending down and turning it around, pressing it gently over your skin.

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” he said as he looked up at you.

“Do I look like I have an HR department I can go to? They were dicks anyways,” you said.

“If you’re ever hurt, big or small, just tell me,” he said. He rested the ice pack over your knee and you sat back, throwing it up on the couch for you to lay there. “Promise I won’t fire you for it.”

“Well if I can’t do my job I’m not much use to you,” you said.

“Are all wealthy people assholes that act like that?” he asked. You shook your head and smiled. “Good.”

“I’ve nannied for eight different families, nine counting yours. Some were very good people,” you said.

“But you were just the help to them, even the good ones,” he said.

“I am the help. That’s the whole point of me being there,” you said.

“Do me a favor? Don’t assume just because you’re someone’s employee that they think of you as just the help,” he said, picking up the first aid supplies.

“Sorry.”

“Why do you apologize for…” he said, muttering to himself as you looked down. “If I ever make you feel like that, smack me in the head, alright?”

“Alright,” you said quietly. He nodded and left with the items, returning a moment later with some cleaning spray, ducking into your room for only a moment before exiting.

“It’s all clean,” he said. He lingered at the door and put a hand on it. “Leave that ice pack on for fifteen minutes and pop it back in the freezer. Put it back on for a bit before bed.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“It’s no problem,” he said. He still lingered and you took a deep breath.

“You should call someone, talk to them,” you said. He looked over his shoulder and you smiled. “You seem like you want to talk to somebody tonight is all.”

“I think I’m gonna go for a drive, maybe stop at a friend’s. The kids are all in bed,” he said. “If that’s cool.”

“Yeah go take a second for yourself,” you said. “I got everything here.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Jensen.”

One Week Later

“Y/N,” said Jensen as you washed your car in the driveway on a Saturday morning. You dropped the soapy sponge in the bucket and straightened yourself out. “Got plans today?”

“Uh, I was gonna run to the grocery store in a minute but other than that, no. Need me to watch the kids?”

“No. We were going out to lunch and then going to a little car show was all and we were wondering if you’d like to join us. Totally up to you. My treat.”

“You don’t want me to watch the kids?” you asked. He laughed and crossed his arms at you. “I’m confused.”

“Do you want to hang out with us today? For fun?” he asked.

“Oh,” you said. “That’s okay. You enjoy your time with the kids.”

“How do I make this clearer,” he said, walking over to you and looking down. “I want you to come with us, as a friend, to do something fun, like friends do. This is not work. Come if you want to.”

“You sure you want me to come?” you asked. He rolled his eyes and plopped his baseball cap on your head as he walked away.

“Yes. And wear sunscreen,” he said. “We’re leaving at eleven thirty.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you guys then.”

“There’s something about a burger that’s been cooked in a greasy pop up kitchen that just adds to the flavor,” you said as you took a bite of your cheese burger at the car show.

“It’s probably the grease,” he said, walking one hand on his burger, the other holding Arrow’s hand. She wiped her own little hand on his leg and he sighed as he looked down. “Arrow. I got napkins in my pocket.”

“Oh,” she said, wiping her face against him.

“No one mentions this part,” he chuckled. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulders once he was done with his food, humming as he pushed the stroller with a sleeping Zeppelin inside.

“Dad, I gotta go to the bathroom,” said JJ.

“I’ll take her and we can catch up with you guys?” you said. He mouthed a thank you to you as you headed over to the women’s room. You used the bathroom as well, finishing before her and waiting outside for her. “All set?”

“Yeah. Can we get fried dough?” she asked.

“Sure,” you said. You let her lead the way in line and got a plate for the two of you, taking a seat at a picnic table so she could dig in. “Taste yummy?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Dad likes fried dough a lot too.”

“Everybody does,” you said, taking a piece off the corner.

“Y/N, you don’t have a mom either right?” she said. “That’s what dad said.”

“Well that’s a funny question. I got a mom and so do you. They just aren’t around anymore is all,” you said. “What’s up?”

“I’m happy you stay with us I guess is all. I know you’re not mom and you work for dad but you kinda are and I like it when dad’s happy again,” she said.

“Me too. You doing okay, kiddo?” you asked. “It’s okay if you still miss your mom.”

“I do but I’m not sad anymore. Dad says when I get real old I can see her again so that’s cool,” she said, taking a big bite.

“It definitely is cool,” you said. “Maybe our mom’s are hanging out right now.”

“You think so?” she asked.

“Maybe. I bet they get up to some fun stuff up there,” you said.

“Me too,” she said. “Dad’s really happy you came with us. He’s been cranky lately.”

“Your dad’s gonna be just fine,” you said as she finished off her food. “So do you like having a nanny? I know that’s kinda new and funny, huh.”

“Yeah but I really like you being home. Dad gets flustered sometimes.”

“Flustered?” you asked with a little laugh.

“He works on a lot of stuff and he didn’t pick me up on time from school and stuff a few weeks ago. Too many chickens in a basket,” she said.

“Too many eggs in one basket,” you said.

“Isn’t an egg gonna be a chicken though?”

“I...never thought of it that way,” you said. You nearly jumped when you felt some hands on your shoulders but JJ was smiling as Arrow climbed up next to you.

“Ah. I see you ladies found the fried dough. Twins you want some?” asked Jensen.

“Yes please,” they said and he chuckled as he went off to buy some more.

“Look at her,” said Jensen twenty minutes later, pausing at a deep blue Impala, the twins both conked out in their stroller.

“Isn’t that the same car you have?” you asked, lifting up the brim of your baseball cap to get a better look.

“Mine’s a 67. That’s a 63. I love that color though,” he said. “Blue’s my favorite but it looks good on that car.”

“I think it looks good in black,” you said, walking again when you saw JJ a few cars ahead of the two of you. “Where’d you get your car?”

“Work,” he said with a quick smile, hiding behind his sunglasses and hat.

“Aren’t you an actor?” you asked.

“You have very obviously never seen an episode of my show,” he chuckled. “Which is totally cool by the way. I drove that car in the show for well over a decade. She’s one of my true loves.”

“Ah, gotcha,” you said. “So you’re a car guy.”

“Kinda. I don’t know everything but I enjoy them. What about you, you like-JJ! Stay closer,” he called out when she kept walking ahead. “So do you like cars?”

“I guess so. This is kinda neat, walking around and looking at the old ones. They had more style back then,” you said, walking past a pair of guys your age, one of them looking you up and down as you went by. “Did that guy-”

“Yup,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder, throwing his arm over yours for a few moments. “Looks like he got the message.”

“Jensen,” you laughed. “I wasn’t offended. It’s not like he was gonna come up and ask for my number.”

“I don’t like the look of him,” he said.

“Neither did I,” you chuckled, Jensen dropping his arm from around you. “You’re that guy friend girls have that will do shit like pretend to be a boyfriend and all that stuff, aren’t you.”

“At your service,” he said with a mini curtesy. You giggled and he straightened up, JJ rushing over.

“Dad can I get an ice cream?” she asked.

“How about some apple slices,” he said, reaching under the stroller and grabbing a cooler. He pulled out a little baggie and handed it to her, JJ shrugging and walking ahead of the stroller again. “Shit, that probably means I can’t get ice cream now too.”

“We can always get some on the way home for later,” you said. “I won’t tell on you.”

“I’m putting this on your performance review,” he said. You shot him a side glance and he smirked. “I’m joking. I don’t want to do that as much as you don’t.”

“Thank you for that,” you said, stopping and looking at a red challenger for a moment.

“You like that one?” he asked.

“It’s nice,” you said before you started walking again. You fixed your hat and caught back up with him, Jensen slowing down as JJ took her time ahead of you. “So I should probably know this but what show were you in where you were driving around a muscle car?”

“You really haven’t looked me up online yet?” he chuckled. You shrugged and he laughed to himself.

“I may have peeked at your IMDB page but that was it. Was it that show you were on a long time? Super something?”

“Supernatural,” he said, a big smile on his face. “Yeah, I drove it for that.”

“Oh yeah, that was the really scary show, wasn’t it,” you said.

“You’re too sweet,” he said, chuckling to himself. “It’s not that scary. I promise. Give it a try sometime. You might like it.”

“I’m sure someday I will. If I’m brave enough.”

“I think you are,” he said, JJ running up ahead again before he called for her to hang back. He sighed and threw his head back. “It never ends, does it?”

“I’m sure someday when she’s older you won’t have to worry so much.”

“I’m gonna worry about that kid when she’s forty years old,” he said.

“That’s cause you’re a good dad,” you said.

“You haven’t known me that long,” he said.

“Do you love her? Worry about her?” you asked and he nodded. “Well any dad that does that and tells his kid that someday they’ll get to see their mom again to help her grieve when he well and truly doesn’t know the answer to that...you get the picture Ackles?”

“I could be better,” he said.

“Everyone could be better. They don’t need the best dad ever. They just need the best dad for them and you seem like you’re doing a good job of that from what I’ve seen so far,” you said. “You’re gonna screw up but so does everyone. Try to just enjoy it and not be too hard on yourself.”

“You’ve spent a lot of time with kids haven’t you,” he said.

“I’ve been in the mom role more than once as a nanny,” you said. You kicked at the dirt and shrugged. “It’s how I know the difference Jensen. You don’t need me or want me to be their mother. You just need help sometimes. That’s an important difference. Asking for help, especially when you don’t want it but need it, that’s a good dad move.”

He was quiet as he walked, stopping at a yellow mustang. He stared for a moment and swallowed.

“Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot. Really.”

“Come on dad,” you said, walking away and up towards where JJ was. “Let’s go see if we can find one this one’s gonna be asking for on her sixteenth birthday.”

“Those three are finally down and out for the count,” said Jensen as he walked downstairs to catch you in the kitchen wiping up the pan from dinner. “Thanks for eating with us tonight.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you said, putting the pan away. He looked out the back window and bit his bottom lip. “Everything alright?”

“You’re not like, hanging out with us cause you think you have to right?” he asked.

“Trust me. If I didn’t want to, I’d be down in my room,” you said. “Besides, I’ve thought about it and you know what, why don’t you set me up with that friend of yours.”

“Really?” he asked, a little alarmed.

“Why not? The age thing doesn’t bother me at all. Unless you think it’d be a problem for him?”

“No, he doesn’t really care about that sort of thing. I think he’d prefer it’s just someone he clicked with, had a connection, you know?” he said.

“Perfect. Why don’t you set us up for next Saturday night then?” you asked.

“I need you to watch the kids next Saturday night. I have-”

“The gala. Sorry, I forgot. Um, just, I’m free whenever. You know my schedule so you can set something up and just let me know?” you said. He smiled and nodded. As you were starting to leave he grunted. “Yeah?”

“I have some friends coming over for a drink in a bit. Small backyard fire. Whiskey and smores. You’re welcome to join.”

“Jensen. You’re not asking because you feel like you have to right?”

“No, not at all. I like hanging out with you. I’m sure whatever you’re binging on TV will be there if we bore you too much,” he said.

“Alright. I’ll be out in half an hour or so. Just wanted to freshen up from the show earlier,” you said. You ducked back to your room, taking a quick shower and changing into some leggings and a flannel. By the time you were out you could hear a slight mumbling and walked downstairs, catching Jensen with some guys on the patio pouring some drinks.

“Hey,” said Jensen when you stepped out of the slider door. “Guys this is Y/N.”

“Ah we get to meet the world’s best nanny,” said the tallest one. “I’m Jared.”

“Rich.”

“Rob.”

“Hi!” said a redhead that slipped out of the door behind you. “I’m Ruth.”

“Y/N. Your hair is kinda amazing by the way,” you said.

“This is what happens when you invite the girls,” said Rich.

“Normally we just talk about Jared’s hair,” chuckled Jensen. You grabbed a chair and helped gather up some snacks to bring over to his firepit, Ruth hanging back to help you.

“Jensen said you live here with him and the munchkins?”

“Yeah. He works so much it makes things easier on him. Are you an actress?” you asked.

“We all are. Only Jared lives close by. The rest of us haven’t been down here since…” she said and you nodded. “I really am happy you’re here. It’s nice to see a smile on our boys face again.”

“He’s a great boss. He’s very kind. We’re becoming friends,” you said. “He’s trying to set me up with his friend actually.”

“Oh which one?”

“Dunno. He just said he’s 42, an actor and is single. Age stuff doesn’t bother me.”

“Rob is a bit older than myself. It really doesn’t matter in the slightest, especially when you’re a little older,” she said. “Jensen says you’re great with the kids.”

“They’re pretty easy going. Normally the parents are the hard part of my job but he’s been great. He really loves his kids,” you said.

“Yes he certainly does,” she said.

By the end of the night you found yourself really enjoying Jensen’s friends. It was clear they cared for him at more than a surface level, especially Jared. You’d heard Jensen speak to him on the phone a few times and call him his brother but it really was apparent they had a special bond that went beyond a typical friendship.

“I’ll catch you guys for brunch before you head home,” said Jensen, waving night to them all as you helped pick up. You were just about finished and heading back for your room when Jensen caught you in the kitchen. “You have fun tonight?”

“Yeah. Your friends are great,” you said, a small pair of footsteps coming down the stairs. You both turned and saw Zeppelin there with tears in his eyes.

“What’s wrong, honey?” asked Jensen as he walked over and squatted down.

“I had a bad dream and I want mommy but she’s gone,” he whined. Jensen instantly scooped him up and held onto him tight, kissing his head. “I want mommy.”

“I want mommy too, baby,” said Jensen quietly. You mouthed go and he nodded, taking Zeppelin upstairs while you finished cleaning up.

You got up early the next morning and made a big batch of chocolate chip pancakes, plenty leftover for breakfast the next morning. Jensen padded over from the hall where you knew the home gym was, sweaty and tired but a smile came onto his face when he saw you.

“What’s all this,” he asked, getting a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Chocolate chip pancakes make everything better,” you said. He put a few on a plate for himself and sat down at the counter as you made up some more, stealing a few for yourself.

“These are delicious,” he said. You stored away some for when the kids got up, making up your own plate before you dug in. “Sorry about last night. I feel like I ruined the fun.”

“Not at all. He’s a toddler. I literally can’t imagine being in your position. I’d have fallen apart instantly,” you said.

“No you wouldn’t. You care about those kids,” he said. “You push on for them.”

“I know it’s not really my place to say so but-”

“Y/N. I’d prefer if you just talk to me like a friend, really,” he said.

“You made it sound like you were ready to try dating again. Last night you seemed kind of...maybe not so ready.”

“I’m ready. I will always miss her. I’ll always love her. But that doesn’t mean I can’t love anyone else ever again like that too, you know? I don’t believe there is a limit on how much love a person can give,” he said.

“Your wife was a very lucky woman,” you said.

“I was lucky. She was patient with me,” he chuckled. “You guys would have gotten along really well.”

“Can I offer a bit of advice?” you asked.

“What’s that?”

“Keep telling your kids about her, all throughout their lives. They’ll still get to know her that way, you know?” you said. “Tell your future girlfriend too. That’s how you’ll know if they’re a good one for you.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“You’re a kind soul. I would expect your partner would be as well,” you said.

“I hope so. Mine kinda has a permanent handle with care warning label on it,” he chuckled.

“I don’t think so. Just need somebody that understands, not try to fix you. There’s nothing wrong with you in the first place,” you said, taking a bite of your pancake.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he said.

“You’re not that much older, bucko,” you chuckled.

“Nah, I’m keeping kiddo,” he laughed. “You good to watch the kids for a few hours around eleven?”

“Sounds good. Go have a mimosa with your friends for me,” you said.

“Will do, Y/N. Will do.”

______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #rpf #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part II

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 10.2k

Warnings: specific character attributes (not appearance, mentioned favorite color, movie, etc.), oral, rough sex, multiple orgasms, Erwin is kind of annoying, semi-exhibitionism, too much testosterone A/N: And, here we go again. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the first part and told me about it. This one’s for y’all~

Mike immediately notices when you start to avoid him. You had already been doing it, but now it's to the point of ducking into buildings you have no business being in and walking a little too briskly when you catch sight of him somewhere on campus. You also won't get anywhere near the Pi Kappa Alpha house.

And, he gets it. He fucked up that night. Or, he didn't fuck up, but he opened up. Too much. Showed that he was willing to be vulnerable, and you obviously had not liked that.

The first week of watching you duck and cover from afar isn't so bad. He's a little bummed, yeah, but he figures you'll come around, if not for him then at least for his dick.

But, one week turns to two, and Mike gets irritated, a little angry even. Because it's not like he did anything wrong. It's not like you haven't wanted it every time.

He doesn't know your class schedule exactly, but he does know when you get out of your 11 AM and have to cross the courtyard to your dorm. It's where Mike caught you last time when he was playing frisbee with Nile, and it's where he catches you now.

Your speed walking is no match for his normal stride, and he easily closes the distance between you two and grabs your wrist to tug you toward a more private area by the library.

"What the fu—what are you doing?" You spit, pulling yourself free.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to get to my fucking room to nap! Is that okay?"

Mike ignores it, glances over his shoulder to make sure no one is watching, then asks, "Why are you avoiding me?"

Scoffing, you mumble an unconvincing, "I haven't been avoiding you."

"Bullshit."

"I've just been busy, okay? Midterms are coming up, and I'm falling behind…" He can tell you're lying by the way you can't meet his eyes. "I need to focus."

"Am I that big of a distraction?"

You don't miss a beat—"Yes," and your eyes widen at your own answer like you're surprised by it.

Mike raises his eyebrows, taken off guard, and you try to cover your tracks. "I mean, like, I don't have time to be fucking frat boys. And, I know you have the pick of the litter, so it's not like you'll go without."

He has to bite his tongue, a confession right on the tip of it—I pick you—but knows that's the last thing you want to hear. It's too early for thoughts like that anyway. You're too closed off, and he's too transparent. It's not like anything serious could work out anyway, and even if it could, he shouldn't tie himself down.

"I mean, yeah, but—"

You hold a hand up, take a deep breath. "Look, I'll be honest with you. You seem like an okay guy, but you should find some other girl to do this with. I don't wanna be another notch on your bedpost—"

"Then, don't be. We can just hang out."

"Yeah, we tried that at the party and still ended up sleeping together."

"We can make it a rule then." He's trying too hard, he knows, but he can't help it. "No fucking. I won't come onto you, and you won't come onto me."

You snort and pick at the hem of your shirt, obviously not buying any of this. "Why do you wanna be friends so bad anyway? Is it the hard-to-get thing? Is it that I'm making it difficult?"

"Maybe but not entirely."

Why does he want to be your friend so badly? You haven't given him any real reason to. You can bond over nerd shit here and there, but other than that, you don't have a lot in common.

You just seem… Cool. Aloof. Like you don't give a shit about anyone or anything, and Mike never thought he'd find that attractive in a girl, but apparently he does.

"Just come over one more time. We can watch something again or—"

"I'm not going into your room again!"

"You don't have to," Mike says, speaking with his hands to emphasize his point. "We can stay in the living room. Totally public. Any of the guys could walk in."

"Has that ever stopped any of you before?"

Not a hundred percent of the time. Mike has definitely seen more of Erwin and Gelgar than he'd like, but he can tell a little white lie.

"Yes."

You stare up at him, a skeptical look on your face, and then, "I'll see if I can pencil you in."

"Fuck yeah, I promise I'll show you a good time without, like, showing you a good time."

"Yeah, whatever."

You're unimpressed, turn to walk away, but Mike is feeling a little too triumphant, a little too bold, and catches you before you can get too far.

He premises, "Just to get it out of my system," then bends down and kisses you. Palms covering your cheeks, fingers curling around the back of your head kisses you. He uses both of his thumbs, just under your mouth, to part your lips so that he can slide his tongue past them, and you push at his chest half-heartedly, no real force to it as you let him lick into your mouth.

The first whimper that escapes you is what makes you break away, your hands stronger against him to shove him back, and Mike smirks when you glare at him.

"You're on thin fucking ice, Zacharias. Thin ice."

"I'll keep it in mind."

With that, you leave the little alcove the two of you were in, grumbling and cursing the whole way. Mike just watches the sway of your hips and licks his lips.

You come over on a Saturday afternoon. Mike can tell you've tried to make yourself look not cute in loose, ripped jeans and a t-shirt, but it doesn't work. Mike still smiles, and you still roll your eyes at him before kicking your shoes off by the door.

"Okay, so what are we doing?" You ask, sitting two cushions away from him on the couch.

"I brought my Switch in here, so we have that…"

"Oh, do you have the SNES games downloaded?"

"Dumb question. Of course I do."

"Rude. Open that shit up."

He does, and you demand to play Donkey Kong, which Mike has no problem with, but, "A please would be nice."

You click your tongue, holding your hand out for the second tiny controller and tell him, "You don't get to hear me beg anymore."

Mike feels his shorts tighten, but all he does is kick a foot over his thigh and warn you, "Best not test my self-control like that."

"Is that a threat?" You laugh, toggling down to 'Two Player' on the screen and clicking it.

"Not a threat." He bobs his head to the theme music. "Just lettin’ you know."

You get as far as Mine Cart Carnage together, but Mike ends up getting tossed from the cart, leaving you to take over as Diddy. He watches the way you move with your character, sitting up straighter, raising the controller to your chest, swaying one way then the next as if your body is tied directly to the game.

Erwin walks in a little while later when you're focused on Stop & Go Station. He sits down in a plush chair, phone in his hand that he ignores in favor of asking, "What are you guys doing out here? Shouldn't you be in Mike's room?"

Mike glances at him, gives him a look and shakes his head, but you're much less subtle when you snap, "Can it, Smith," eyes never leaving the screen.

"Don't count on that," Mike snorts. "I think it’s physically impossible for him to keep his mouth shut for longer than four seconds."

"Wooow," Erwin drawls, thick eyebrows high in offense. "I'm supposed to be able to trust you, and now you're just talking shit right in front of me."

"For some reason, I get the feeling your ego can't get bruised that easily," you muse out loud.

"I'll have you know I can be very sensitive," Erwin informs you matter-of-factly. "I have a heart. I have feelings. And, I've been told on multiple occasions that I'm more considerate than most men, so there."

You laugh, a silly sound that gets stuck in your throat. "Oh, really? And how many of those women—'cause that's what they are, I'm sure—were left behind after they built you up like that, hm?"

Biting both of his lips, Erwin sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. "I plead the fifth on that one."

"Uh huh, that's what I thought."

While you're fixated on the screen, Mike glances over at his friend, sees blue eyes shining as Erwin stares at you, a tell-tale smirk on his face. He's amused by you. Interested, even.

You stay for about an hour longer before going back to the dorms. As soon as the front door shuts, Mike swivels around and points a finger at Erwin, uttering a low, "Don't you dare," that makes the blond chuckle.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

You mostly hang out on weekends and only in small bursts. Alternating between movies and video games, it's a little hard to speak to one another, but Mike is still able to pry some information out of you and share more about himself.

You're majoring in geological and earth sciences while Mike is working toward a degree in environmental science— "Kinda weird we haven't run into each other before."

You played basketball for a year in high school before getting annoyed by the other girls. Mike, on the other hand, made some of his best friends on his old soccer team.

You had a ferret growing up and now you'll "Never get another pet again 'cause when he died, I died a little with him." (It's the first time Mike has ever seen tears in your eyes, but you blink them away at record speed). He tells you about the dogs his family has had and how the one at home with his parents now is actually his. (Her name's Scout, and I would take a bullet for her.")

Hitch is your best friend even though she irritates the shit out of you, and Mike says something similar about Erwin. "He's a good guy. He's just… Passionate about so many things. He gets obsessive. Drives me insane."

"Obsessed with that pussyyy," you joke in a deep, stupid voice.

Mike snorts, "Perv," and keeps watching the movie that's playing.

And, speaking of movies, your favorite Disney film is The Fox and The Hound— "Good taste," while his is Lion King— "Classic." As far as other movies, though, the two of you spend half an hour arguing over which Mel Brooks is the best, end up having to agree to disagree (Young Frankenstein vs. High Anxiety).

Your favorite color is green. Your favorite food is pizza (“What are you, twelve?”). Your favorite animal is the pangolin. They’re all little facts that Mike stores away, and by the end of the semester, he actually feels like he kind of knows you, and somehow, against all odds, you've managed to not hookup through it all.

That's not to say it hasn't been hard (that he hasn't been hard). Sometimes you come over in skin tight jeans or crop tops, outfits that accentuate your body in all the right ways, and Mike is pretty sure that you do it on purpose.

You're both careful not to drink too much at parties, aware of the likely consequences, but you hang around him enough to gain people's attention—jealous girls watching in disappointment, curious guys sizing you up.

Questions inevitably arise. You complain about Hitch pestering you for details that you will not give her, and he tells you how he has to keep brushing off his brothers.

"She doesn't, like, know we've had sex—would never fucking leave me alone if she did. But she and all her other little friends are so annoying about it."

You're on the steps outside of the frat house, jackets zipped up, nursing steaming cups of cocoa you got from the nearby shop.

"So, what do you tell them?" Mike asks.

You shrug your shoulders. "That we're not fucking. Just friends. They don't believe me, but that's my story, and I'm sticking to it, dammit."

Mike laughs through his nose and takes another drink. "I mean, it's not a lie since we're not fucking and we are friends."

You make a high pitched noise, doubtful, challenging. "Friends is a strong word."

"Whatever."

He's used to you doing that now, denying him every chance you get even in a joking way. You've never once admitted to any type of feelings out loud, and he isn't sure why, some kind of avoidance behavior, but he won't complain because he knows you're at least a little fond of him. You wouldn't keep spending time with him if you weren't.

Deciding to change the subject, Mike prompts, "So, Erwin's party over the break," and you glance at him over your cup with interest. "You're coming, right?"

"I don't know. Isn't it at, like, his ranch house in bum fuck nowhere?"

"Kinda. It's only about a two hour drive from here, but it's definitely off the beaten path."

"I'll have to see. Need to spend time with my mom while I can."

Understandable. He's looking forward to seeing his own parents (and Scout, of course).

The last game of the season is played and won, then finals pass after too many all-nighters and too much Red Bull. Mike actually sighs in relief when he slides into his white Wrangler, all packed up and ready to make the drive back to his house.

He sends one text before pulling out onto the main road—Be safe—and hopes he won't have to wait an entire month to see you again.

Staying with your mom is nice but always slightly depressing. The house is empty with just her in it, less lived in than ever before. You can tell exactly which spots she spends most of her time in—her office to work and the couch in front of the TV to wind down.

You sleep in your old bedroom, spend most evenings texting Hitch after your mom goes to bed, but a few conversations with Mike slip in too. He sends you several pictures of Scout—beautiful but always wearing one of those perpetual Boxer frowns—and in return, you send him pictures of the pretty betta your mother has in her office. It's the best you can do.

After a week of being in your hometown, you're ready to leave it again. It's not terrible or in a bad part of town. It's just… lacking. You'd never tell your mother this, but you have a feeling she knows. It's probably why she doesn't put up a fight when you tell her you're gonna run off for a couple days to attend Erwin's party.

"I promise I'll be back. It's just one night and then the drive back."

Her tone is very serious when she tells you to stay out of trouble, but then she walks you out to your car and hugs you, watching and waving as you drive away.

You text Erwin on the way there to ask if it's okay to arrive early—like a few hours early cause I needed to get out of my house—and he replies enthusiastically.

Absolutely! Mike and Levi are already here 😃

You have no idea who this Levi is outside of hearing Erwin mention him a few times, but you very quickly find out when you get to the large but secluded house. You see Erwin's stupid (gorgeous) vintage Mustang parked in the gravel driveway as well as Mike's white Jeep and an unfamiliar, black Prius.

All three of them are on the porch occupying outdoor chairs that probably cost more than your fucking dorm expenses, but Mike and Erwin both stand when you make your way up the sidewalk. Staying seated, or really sprawled out with his hands behind his head, is a fairly small man (boy, maybe) with inky hair and sunglasses covering his eyes. He’s dressed much differently than the other two, ripped jeans, Doc Martens, and a striped long sleeved shirt under a short sleeved band tee.

“What in the e-boy fuck…” You mutter to yourself, nodding at the blonds and letting Mike take your backpack—not that you really have a choice considering your grip on it is no match for his.

“Was the drive okay?” He asks, swinging the bag over his shoulder and making it look incredibly small.

“Yeah. Once I hit the backroads I could start going, like, eighty-five, so that shaved some time off.”

Mike snorts. “You sound like Erwin. Dude’s always speeding.”

“Don’t fucking start with me. I was in the car with you when you almost hit a pedestrian on a crosswalk.”

“We don’t talk about that.”

Everyone follows Erwin inside the house. It’s just as nice as you thought it’d be, sprawling and open with wood floors, plush furniture, and rustic decorations. There are moose antlers mounted in one room and a god damned bear head in another. It makes you roll your eyes, but to say you’re unimpressed would be a flat out lie.

“Not everyone is staying the night, but I know you have to, so just pick an upstairs room,” Erwin tells you after the grand tour. “I can take you around on the golf cart once you settle in.”

You see Mike roll his green eyes and amend, “We can take you around.”

“Yeah,” Erwin nods. “That’s what I meant.”

Levi is making a face up at Erwin, furrowed brow, squinty eyes, and a little grimace. He hasn’t said more than two words to you since you’ve arrived (“I’m Levi.”), but he doesn’t seem like the chatterbox type, a little more standoffish, and you can’t blame him for that.

“Just in case you’re wondering, I’m in the middle room,” Mike tells you with a grin.

“And why, pray tell, would I be wondering that?”

He basically sings in his deep voice, “No reason,” then walks back downstairs with Erwin and Levi, leaving you to make yourself comfortable.

You take the bedroom at the far end of the hallway out of spite more than anything, but you figure the farther away you can be from Mike the better. After setting your things down and organizing deodorant, perfume, and every day jewelry on the dresser, you join the guys downstairs to find them huddling over the kitchen island talking about plans for the night.

“Should we get a keg? It won’t be that many people, but it might be easier to just pour from one,” Erwin thinks out loud.

“Don’t bother getting a keg if it’s gonna be the same shitty beer you guys have at Pike parties,” you chime in, hip checking Mike so that he’ll scoot over and allow you join their little meeting.

Levi lets out a little laugh, the most expressive you’ve seen him so far, while the other two pout at your criticism.

“Why don’t you pick the beer then?” Erwin prompts. “Since you have such refined tastes.”

Eyebrows lifting, you laugh. “Oh, we’ve got a smartass in the house tonight.” The blond smirks and dusts off his shoulders, making Mike groan in either annoyance or embarrassment. You can’t be sure which one.

“Fuck, is this what it’s always like between you three?” Levi asks, looking between all of you. “Just constant bickering?”

“More or less.”

“That seems exhausting.”

“It is,” you confirm. “‘S’why I can only hang out with them in small doses.”

“Ouch.”

“Wounded.”

“Anyway,” you let your head hang so that all they can see is your shoulders shaking as you giggle, and when you look back up, you make sure that the smile is mostly wiped from your face. “I’m not saying I’m some kind of beer expert, but I at least know that the shit you serve at parties is rancid.”

“And yet, you always seem to forget,” Mike teases. “I always end up having to finish yours.”

“You don’t have to. You choose to, you fucking alkie.”

It’s hard to come to any sort of decision with the non-stop push and pull of the conversation, and eventually Levi just walks away to let the three of you work it out. Erwin orders a keg of Rolling Rock, says something about, “Dad won’t mind me splurging a little since I downsized this whole thing for him,” and you scoff at him.

He’s well aware of his privilege, talks about it in an ironic manner that’s both maddening and hilarious— “Father is going to let me take the yacht out this weekend,” and, “Oh, that’s not country club appropriate.” It makes you laugh every fucking time, but it also usually earns him a smack or two.

The next few hours are spent gathering party supplies and getting the house ready (as in moving some furniture around and hiding valuables). Erwin leaves to pick up the keg after assuring the vendor on the phone that he can drive to them and pay extra for the short notice. You don’t know how he manages it, but you assume his confidence has a lot to do with it.

Only about twenty people are supposed to come, “An Erwin Smith exclusive,” Mike jokes with you as you stash a couple of vases in the kitchen cabinets.

“Oh, does that mean I’m special?” You play.

“Absolutely.”

There’s something churning in your gut as you move around downstairs with Mike and Levi, an omniscient feeling, like you know how the night will end, but you’re going to fight it every step of the way. You’ve made it this long without a slip-up, and you’re determined to make it one more night.

Erwin gets back with about three hours to spare. He and Mike disappear to change into what you assume to be their usual douche-y attire, and you and Levi sit alone in the large living room waiting quietly.

You’re surprised when he speaks first, stating, “You don’t seem the sorority type.”

Turning, you try to make sense of it, respond, “Well, I’m not.” You’re almost offended that he’d even consider you were.

“Then what are you doing hanging around with those frat boy fucks?”

“Oh, that.” You sigh. “Uhh, my friend made me go to one of their parties, and I just… Made an impression, I guess.”

“You fucked one of ‘em, didn’t you?” Levi is smirking, so sure of himself that you don’t really see the point in denying it.

“Yeah.”

“Rich boy or the giant?”

You look over at him, defenses rising like they did your first night in the Pi Kappa Alpha house. “The fuck is it to you?”

Holding his hands up, Levi chuckles, “Alright, alright, forget I asked.”

You cross your arms over your chest, stare off as you wonder if it’s actually that hard to tell. You figured it would be obvious that you’re more comfortable with Mike than with Erwin, but you have been getting more used to the other brazen blond over the last few months, just like you’ve been getting a little more used to Nile and all the other brothers. You haven’t sucked any of their dicks, though.

“How’d you meet Erwin?” You try.

You’re not surprised when Levi snarks, “The fuck is it to you?”

You can’t tell if the two of you are going to leave this ranch house as mortal enemies or as friends, but it’ll definitely be one of them.

“‘Cause you don’t seem the type to hang out with them either,” you tell him.

It's definitely odd. He and Erwin have to go back some time to have been able to stick together through their college years and all of their superficial differences.

Levi admires the black polish on his nails then informs you in a bored tone, “We’ve been friends since we were kids, but it’s no big deal. Just can’t get rid of him.”

The corner of his mouth turns upward, so he can’t be too heartbroken over it. You understand that, haven’t quite been able to shake your puppy-dog of a friend since the beginning of the semester, but you’re not as annoyed about it as you pretend to be.

“They certainly do get attached,” you hum.

The two men in question join you once again, looking much more palatable in jeans and v-necks. Erwin has a button-down hanging open and rolled up to his elbows while Mike is wearing a black and white flannel in similar fashion. It’s the most casual they’ve been at a party, and you can’t help but joke, “Wow, look at you two. More human, less lizard people for once.”

Erwin rolls his eyes while Mike mumbles a Doctor Who reference that makes you suck on the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning.

He’s got his charm turned on tonight, the kind that appeals to you, which will definitely pose a problem.

People start arriving at around eight, some you recognize from the college, some you don’t who you assume to be some of Erwin’s older friends. Gelgar taps the keg within minutes of walking in then plays the role of bartender for the next ten minutes as everyone lines up for a drink. There’s liquor and mixers set up on the counter, and you consider just making your usual, but you figure you should have at least a little of the beer since you’re the one who fought for the more expensive brand.

When you get your cup, foam nearly overflowing past the rim, you take one sip only to cough it back up when Mike shows off his usual party trick—appearing out of thin air—and asks, “You gonna finish it this time?”

You splutter as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand then glare up at him. “I’m gonna try, but it’s gonna be pretty fuckin’ difficult if you keep making me spit up like a god damn baby.”

He’s amused, light eyes dancing mischievously, and you know you’re in for a long night.

Erwin has a playlist filtering through the house’s sound system, a nice balance of several different genres playing at a bearable volume for the first time. Games start up in the kitchen, rage cage around the island, beer pong at the table, and while you’re content to just wallflower in the corner, Mike drags you into it.

“You’re just as bad as Hitch," you complain, but he isn't fazed, just plants you in an open spot at the island and stands right beside you. He's gonna regret doing that; rage cage is one of the only competitive games you're actually good at, but he'll find that out.

It's fast-paced, full of screaming and laughing, jumping and shoving. You get to slam your cup into Mike's on several occasions, drawing curses from him every time.

"Honestly, it's a little embarrassing," you ridicule with a smile.

He downs the small amount of beer in the cup he pulls, adds it to the stack, then challenges, "I'll show you embarrassing. Just wait."

You've had maybe two beers altogether, but it still sends a jolt down your spine.

The two of you play another couple of rounds, and Mike does seem to catch on a little more, but he eventually bows out and pulls you away with him.

More beer. Meandering around the party. It's pretty tame in comparison to all the Pike events you've attended, but the later it gets, the rowdier everyone becomes. Music gets turned up to dance. The keg stops being used for pouring and starts being used for stands. You have the absolute pleasure of watching Erwin hold Levi upside down as the smaller man chugs as much as he can. He beats Nile's record, raises his arms in victory as Erwin shakes him by the shoulders in excitement.

"They're pretty close, yeah?"

Mike looks down at you as you stand on your tip-toes to get closer to his ear as you speak.

He nods. "I don't really understand them, but yeah. They've been friends since, like, elementary school, I think."

"No shit?"

"No shit."

You play beer pong against Gelgar and Nile, end up losing by quite a lot, and by the time you finish the remaining cups and another full drink, you're feeling good. Warm, happy, dangerously giggly.

Mike stands too close as you make your rounds to talk to people, many of them asking how the lacrosse season went. He puffs his chest a little, tries and fails to act modest, but instead of getting irritated like you usually do, you find yourself resting your cheek against his arm as you shake your head. You don't know if the action is to disagree with him or to get closer, but it makes Mike chuckle and shift so that he can wrap that arm around you and pull you to his chest instead.

He smells nice—woodsy with a sweet little bite. It makes your mouth water. You try to call back your determination from before, that readiness to fight and deny, but Mike's body is firm and massive and hot against yours, and he's also drunk and smiling sideways. His eyes are hazy and gorgeous when he peers down at you. His stubble has grown into that perfect length, the kind that feels incredible between your legs, and you can already see your hands tugging at his shaggy hair as he flips it from his face.

"You okay?" He rumbles, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

He knows. You know he knows. And, he knows that you know that—

Fuck. Stop. Just…

"What do you think?" You're aware of what you're saying. The words make perfect sense. You just can't stop them from falling from your mouth is all.

"I don't know," Mike says, a playful lilt to his voice. "Why don't you tell me?"

You're not sure if he's asking for your consent or if he just wants to humiliate you by making you spell it out for him.

"I mean…" Your gaze travels from his face to his neck to his pecs and downward. "The semester is over."

"It is," he agrees, hand moving from your waist to your hip.

"Don't really need to be, uh… What's the word…" You squeeze your eyes shut, splaying your fingers on his stomach. "Studious," you snap. "Don't need to be so studious on vacation."

Mike very slowly starts walking backwards toward the staircase, holding you at arms length by both your hips now.

"No, you really don't."

Voice of reason fading away, you step around him but grab his hand, taking the stairs two by two until you're on the balcony that wraps above the living room. Once you slip into the closer room, yours, you lock the door.

Mike's mouth is familiar in its desperation—tastes like beer and want and him. He pulls his flannel off behind him by the sleeves just in time for you to start pushing his shirt up over his abs, in awe all over again at the muscle group.

It's really not fair.

You pause between kisses to strip, smiling and groaning whenever your lips meet again. You've missed it on some level—the heat, the fucking attraction you just can't shake. All the times you hung out with him, purposely keeping distance, avoiding flirting and touching and staring—you figured it would come to a head. You even guessed there was a good chance that it would be at this party.

But, that doesn't mean you're prepared when he throws you onto the bed, doesn't prepare you for the way he bites your lip and sucks on your neck and pinches your nipples until you moan his name and grind against him, and it certainly doesn't prepare you for the way he spreads your legs, runs his nose up the inside of your thigh, then drags his tongue over your slit.

"Fuck, Mike."

He groans, quick to slide the muscle into your pulsing cunt to taste you. His fingertips are digging into the fat of your thighs, keeping you still save for your trembling which makes the feeling of his mouth even more intense. You want to buck against his face, want to put out the fire raging inside of you by moving somehow, letting some of the energy out, but you can't. All you can do is lay there as Mike licks around your hole and nibbles at your clit and laps up your juices.

"Missed this fuckin' pussy," he breathes, sucking on one of your lips and then the other, pulling blood to the surface and making them puffy and sensitive.

You card fingers through his hair before fisting your hand in it and shoving his face further into your cunt, trying as hard as you fucking can to ride any part of him you can manage—his tongue, his nose, anything that will give you friction.

The sound he makes at your pathetic attempt is bestial, a low, throaty grunt as he rubs his chin up and down your slit, drenching himself in your slick and quickly overstimulating your swollen clit with his stubble.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck—"

"You wanted it," he grits. "You pushed your sloppy little cunt right in my face, so now you've gotta take everything I give you."

You cry as he continues the motion, pussy drooling as the little bud starts to grow raw. "Mike, please, please…"

"Gonna make sure you feel this tomorrow." He stops only to lean back down and suck your clit into his mouth. The tip of his tongue is soft in comparison to the coarse hair, but it still makes your hips twitch, and when he grazes his teeth over it, you squeal and kick.

It's so close to hurting, right on the edge, but it's that helplessness that has you steadily leaking on the bed. It's what makes it easy for Mike to push a finger into your clenching hole, pump a couple times, then slide another one in beside it.

Your climax is coiling in your gut, compressed like a spring and only getting tighter with every thrust of long, thick fingers and every measured flick of his tongue.

Gripping his hair again, you ride it out. Mike loosens his grip just enough to allow you to undulate in time with the waves that wash over you, and you moan loudly as he moves to flatten his tongue over your entrance so that you come on and against it.

He gives you some time to settle down, but you know he isn't done yet, and since you're not quite ready to take his cock in your sensitive pussy, you pull your legs from the sides of his head and crawl to lay with your head off the side of the bed.

Mike gets the picture immediately, and you hear a huff of air leave him all at once before he clambers off the mattress to position himself at the edge. You're a little too low, so he grabs all four pillows to shove under you, and as he does, you lavish his bobbing cock with kitten licks, going as far as sucking on his balls when he leans over you.

"Jesus fucking—"

You can feel the way they tighten, his cockhead dripping pre that lands just below the notch of your sternum. It isn't until he's thoroughly coated in spit that you stop and let him straighten, then open your mouth and relax your shoulders.

Mike is careful as he slides his tip past your lips, letting you adjust to the weight of his cock in your mouth before he pushes in a little further. Your eyes start watering as soon as he passes between your molars, making you stretch your jaw and drool from the corners of your mouth.

He pulls out then, taps his cockhead on your cheek, leaving a mix of precum and spit on your skin before lining himself up again and sliding back in.

He repeats the process a few times as if it'll actually get you used to his size, but it's just not possible. You gag and gurgle, slurp back drool when you're given the chance, and your entire body throbs when Mike tells you, "I'm gonna give you more now, okay? Wanna see your throat bulge with my cock."

You moan around him, try to make the passage of your mouth and esophagus as straight as possible then let your eyes roll back as he slips into the tighter sleeve for a few seconds. Your toes dig into the bedspread, fingers clawing at the material as you fight back the panic that comes with not being able to breathe.

Mike pulls out panting, and you wish you could see his face, the look in his eyes, but you can't. All you can do is lap at his cock until he pushes it into your mouth again.

This time when he slips into your throat, he reaches down to press a hand to your neck, letting out a deep, disbelieving laugh as he feels the way his length moves in it. "Holy shit. I could—" he just barely gives you more, and your responding whine is completely muffled by him, "—Could come like this."

The thought makes you tingle. Or maybe that's the lack of oxygen. You are feeling a little lightheaded. But the idea of him coming down your throat, right into your stomach, fuck, it makes your cunt pulse again.

Mike pulls out, and you suck in deep breaths, a little sob making your chest heave. Tears are streaming from your eyes, getting caught in your hair, and you have to wipe other various fluids from your face.

He helps you sit back up, rubs your shoulders and kisses the back of your neck as your heart rate returns to normal. As soon as he sees you relax, though, he's tugging you from the bed and bending you over it.

The scream that's pushed from you is hoarse as you're split open on his cock. Mike holds you by the hair, pulling your head back as he snaps his hips forward and back relentlessly. He slides in and out of you easily, but that doesn't mean he isn't stretching you to your breaking point.

You shake on the bed, thankful when he lets go of your head so that you can fall back to the mattress, crying and moaning all you want.

"Feel so good, baby," Mike groans. "So good."

He punctuates it with a slap to your ass that causes you to squeeze him, and that only encourages him to repeat the action until both your cheeks are radiating heat and stinging from his hands.

He flips you like a doll, and you're finally able to see his face clearly as he stares down at you with a dropped jaw and heavy lids. You know you're a mess, fucked out and sloppy, but as he abuses your g-spot with the ridge of his cock, all you can do is grin drunkenly and let your eyes roll.

"So pretty when you smile," he praises. Fingers grip your chin, and when you're able to focus your gaze again you find Mike leaning over you, face level with yours. "Open your mouth for me." His tone is soft yet demanding, and you don't hesitate for a second as you do what you're told.

Mike pushes spit through his lips, letting it drip and stretch until it lands on your tongue. It makes you feel cheap and disgusting, but it doesn't stop you from squirting around him.

Devolving into nothing more than grunts and groans, Mike continues to fuck into you but straightens so that he can reach your clit better. He flicks it back and forth until your true orgasm hits you, and then he keeps going.

You cry out, squirm wildly beneath him, but all it results in is two fingers being shoved in your mouth. Stroking over the back of your tongue, more saliva pours from your mouth just like the slick that pours from your pussy while he toys with your clit.

You come again. And again. When Mike finally removes his hand from between your legs, you're nothing more than a puddle, moaning and crying for him.

Every orgasm has made your walls swell around him, his cock feeling longer and thicker than ever as he kisses your cervix with every thrust. That lightheaded sensation is back, white dots dancing around your eyes, and you just barely manage out his name, tapping in his forearm.

"Need… need…"

"What do you need, babe?"

Your arms curl up by your head, fingers moving and spasming as every one of your senses is overwhelmed.

"Need you to—t-to—to come. Need you to c-come."

You've never had to tap out before, but you can't take him anymore. His size. His expression. His lack of fucking mercy.

"Yeah?" He coos, but his cock is still dragging in and out of you. You nod, but Mike draws it out, asking, "Where do you want me to come?"

"Don't… Care…"

"You don't care?" He's still moving, fucking you absolutely stupid as he lists out, "Your face? Your tits?" He gropes your chest, pinching both nipples, and the fact that you don't even whimper must clue him into the fact that he's about to lose you.

Your mind is swimming, fading every time he pulls out only to be brought back online when he pushes back in.

"What about your pussy? Want me to come all over your pussy?"

You moan, the simplest part of your brain apparently finding that appealing, so after a few more thrusts, Mike pulls out entirely and jerks himself off until he covers your folds in hot cum. He gets some on your thighs, some on your pelvis, soaks your peaking clit so that you take in a stuttering breath.

His hand is between your legs again, fingertips spreading the viscous fluid around and dipping into your slit.

Your eyes shoot open for the first time in God knows how long, a panicked, "M-Mike," tumbling from your lips, but he hushes you.

"I'm not pushing it inside or anything. Just having fun."

And, fuck, tonight is the night you learn how filthy he is. Mike spends a few solid minutes rubbing his seed over your puffy lips, fingers the raw tissue around your hole so that you leak for him, then uses it to massage your clit slowly and softly, pulling one last orgasm from you that makes fresh tears spring in your eyes.

You're going to be in a world of pain tomorrow, but you can't regret it—not when your legs continue to shake long after your climax, not when you can already feel that satisfying ache deep inside of you, not when Mike crawls to sit on the bed and lifts you into his arms.

"You okay?" He asks into your hair.

He's rubbing soothing circles on your stomach as you drift in and out. You know you need to shower, but you're so tired and so wrecked, you doubt you'll be able to stand for long enough to clean yourself.

"Did I hurt you?"

"Mm, little bit," you tell him honestly. You can actually feel his heart start to beat harder in his chest, so you reassure him, "Liked it, though."

You think something like twenty minutes pass, but you can't be sure as you keep dozing. It's hard not to with Mike rubbing your stomach, his body rising and falling in rhythm with every breath he takes.

When your eyes open more than halfway, you begin to move, grimacing at the soreness between your legs as well as the mess.

"'m gonna hop in the shower," you announce.

Mike sits up too, stretches his arms and asks through a groan, "Want me to come with?"

"You've done enough coming tonight," you snort. "But nah, I can clean myself on my own."

His eyebrows furrow, but he doesn't say anything, just lets you get up and walk to the bathroom on shaky legs.

The hot water almost puts you back to sleep. You manage to rinse off where you need to, step back into the room fully expecting to see Mike passed out in your bed, but he's nowhere to be found.

As you crawl under the covers, you try to swallow the feeling of disappointment that's stuck in your throat.

Mike is up before almost everyone in the house the next morning, so he spends most of it trying to clean up alongside Levi, though he apparently isn't doing a very good job of it according to the smaller man.

"Jesus, have you ever mopped a floor in your life?"

"Oh, so we're just throwing everything in the same trash bag? No recycling? Your future kids will thank you for that, I'm sure."

"No, there's no way I’m letting you wipe down the counters. Just move."

Levi is lucky Mike is as laid back as he is otherwise he would have thrown the little fuck into the koi pond behind the house a long time ago.

Erwin wakes up around nine and walks down looking a little rough, but Mike has definitely seen him in worse states.

"Thanks for cleaning up," he says, bent over the island and holding his head in his hands. "Pretty sure I would have thrown up if I'd tried. Several times."

He tells the other two that pretty much everyone else started heading out at around three and that he has a list of party-goers he needs to text to make sure they made it home in one piece, "When I can actually fucking see straight."

Naturally, the conversation turns to Mike. Erwin, with his cheek now pressed against the cool, granite countertop, smirks up at him and asks in a sly voice, "So, how was your night?'

Mike bites his lip to hide a smile, leans out of the kitchen to make sure you aren't stumbling down the stairs or traipsing about the house, then looks back to his friend and laughs, "Fucking mind-blowing, dude." He doesn't go into explicit detail—that's never been his style—but he does whisper about you taking him better than any other girl and that he's, "Addicted, dude. I genuinely think I am addicted to her pussy."

"Don't be fucking dramatic, Zacharias," you pop out behind him, slapping his back as you pass him to get to the fridge. He can see the ghost of a smile turning your lips up, but it's hard to feel satisfied at that when his own face is beet red.

Looking at Erwin, Mike throws his hands out by his side, mutters an incredulous, "Dude," that makes the other blond chuckle.

You grab a water bottle from the refrigerator, making Levi grumble, "Are none of you guys concerned about the planet? God damn."

Standing between Mike and Erwin, you take a few gulps, all eyes on you until you swallow and question, "Can I help you?" Now that you're right next to him, Mike can hear a scratchiness to your voice, almost as if you're getting sick, but he knows better, knows exactly where it came from, and fuck if it doesn't make him twitch in his sweats.

"Have a good time at the party?" Erwin pries once again.

You look at him with a deadpan expression, then answer, "Seems like you already got the deets, so sure. I had a grand time."

Mike isn't sure if you're being sarcastic about it just like you are everything else. You had just kind of left him hanging when you'd gone to shower. He hadn't thought too much into it even if he'd been a little bummed, but he thinks he understands. You just need more space than he does.

Or, it could have been that you hadn't enjoyed yourself. Oh god, what if you'd just been faking? What if you'd lied to him when he asked if he hurt you? What if you're in pain right now and just hiding it?

Mike zones out while you talk with Erwin and Levi about plans for the day, works himself into a nice little panic but is still able to hear you tell them you're just gonna head back to your mom's.

"You sure?" Erwin asks. "I know you only planned to stay one night, but you're more than welcome to hang out for longer. We’ll be here for at least another few days."

Levi adds an, "Unfortunately," that earns him a hair ruffle he swats away.

"No, it's cool. I can't leave mom alone for the holiday or she'll start to think I don't like staying at the house."

"You don't, though."

"Yeah, but she doesn't have to know that."

Mike stares after you as you take your water bottle and return upstairs, and it doesn't escape the notice of the other two men.

"You're so fuckin' whipped, man," Erwin teases.

Mike doesn't deny it, just holds up a middle finger.

Erwin isn't entirely wrong, though. Mike has been trying to deny it or play it off as nothing more than lust, but there's more to his feelings at this point. He tries not to be obvious around you, to keep his cards close to his chest because he knows you just want to keep things casual—barely even want that if he's being honest.

So he can hide it. He can pretend it isn't happening. In fact, Mike should be thankful that you only want sex (sometimes) because it leaves him to do whatever he wants. He could fuck other chicks left and right, and you wouldn't even bat an eyelash. That's a good thing, right?

That worry about last night still has him on edge, though, so before you can leave, Mike catches you in your room as you're packing up and closes the door.

He expects you to make some kind of comment about not being able to go again, but all you do is tilt your head to the side in a dangerously cute way.

"Hey, I, uh… I just wanted to make sure you felt okay after last night."

You blink at him, pause in folding your clothes, then show a wide, real grin.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sore in various places—like, super sore—but I'm fine."

Mike's mouth twists to hide his smirk, and he mumbles a low, "Sorry."

"Don't ever apologize for your monster cock," you tell him, setting your shirt down on the mattress before pacing over to him. "Like, unless there's tearing of some sort, which there really shouldn't be since you're good at preparation, whoever you fuck should be okay. Sore but okay."

His eyes go a little wide when you stop in front of him, looking up with an expression he's really never seen before—or maybe that you've never allowed him to see before—and the longer he stares, the more he realizes that you're god damn glowing.

Taking a chance, he finds your waist with his hands, inches just a little closer, then leans down when you stand on your toes and tug him by the shirt.

You taste like peppermint and already smell like the perfume you wear every day, the scent that has made Mike dizzy for the past few months. He moves a hand to your back to press your body into his, and when you take his bottom lip into your mouth, biting and sucking, he groans and pulls back before he can get too hard.

"What's all this? Why are you so perky this morning?"

"I get giddy after good sex," you say with a shrug. "Sue me."

"That why you run away every time I fuck you?" He questions.

You nod. "Couldn't run away this time, though."

"I'm sure it's really bruising your pride, letting me see you all warm and gooey."

"I am not warm and gooey," you protest. "I was last night, but—"

"Aw, gross, why'd you have to say it like that?"

You giggle—giggle—then remind him, "You're the one who felt the need to fucking fingerpaint."

Mike vividly remembers the way your pussy looked covered in his cum, the way it felt to smear it and play with your swollen entrance and clit, and now… Now he is definitely hard again.

"Better stop before you end up on that bed again."

Your eyes are dancing, tone mischievous when you respond, "Only if you're gentle."

"Christ—"

He's got you naked and spread on the mattress in less than thirty seconds, tongue buried in your cunt as he soothes every part of you he can reach.

It would be cruel to actually fuck you again. He knows you're probably a little more tender than you're letting on, so Mike settles for licking into you and flicking your clit, never using teeth as it swells in his mouth so that you pant and moan, and promise, "I can handle it, Mike, I can…"

"I don't care if you can or can't. Just lemme do this."

And, it's not like he hasn't pulled his cock from his pants, pumping it and coating his length in the pre-cum he drips at the mere sight of you.

He can tell you're getting close when your thighs start to tense. You alternate between shifting your hips and going slack. It's the latter that you leak the most, pussy opening around his tongue only to clench a few seconds later.

"Just one finger, Mike, please, I want—I need something inside me, please, please," you moan.

Mike turns his face to kiss your thigh, sighing but giving in easily when he acquiesces, "Only one."

The noise you make as he slides his middle finger into you is like music, high pitched and drawn out, with an awe one would sing hymns with.

"Yes, yes, yes, thank you, fuck, tha—"

He understands why you wanted it so badly when he pulls it out and sees his finger coated in white, considers fucking you with it to the point of tears, but before he can, the door to the bedroom swings open and fucking Erwin walks in to ask, "Levi and I are going to the store—"

“Jesus fuck, Erwin!" Mike swears. "A little busy here!"

His friend is unfazed, but more importantly, you are too, arching your back, pulling Mike's hair to get him back where you want him, then moaning his name like you never have before as you come.

You tremble and take in stuttering breaths, and Mike does his best to hide your exposed pussy from prying eyes as he looks at Erwin and barks out a furious, "No, I don't need anything from the store. Get out."

The blond shrugs and turns, walking out without shutting the door, and Mike swears he's gonna kill him. He's too bold and too entitled and now he's seen far too much of your body, and Mike doesn't like that.

"Did you come?" You ask in an airy voice. Mike guesses you could feel the rhythm of his hand on his cock, probably pushing his face harder against you with every pass.

"Uh, no. I don't know if you noticed, but Erwin walked in."

"I noticed," you snort, sitting up on your elbows. "Why do you think I moaned your name like that?"

"What?" It had seemed a little odd. Mike knows he's pretty good at oral, but you've never made a sound like that before.

"Fucker wanted to see what we were up to, I decided to show him. Now he knows how good you are."

Mike stands, peers down at you skeptically and says, "You're being too nice to me today. It's freakin' me out a little."

He doesn't think it's necessary to add that Erwin is already aware of his sexual prowess considering they definitely had a threesome with a rather adventurous girl back in freshman year. It's just not pertinent information.

"Soak it up, Zacharias. I'm sure the good mood will be gone by tomorrow."

"Why, cause I won't be at your mom's to fuck you stupid every night?" His voice comes out cocky, but it's stifled by the way you squeal when he slaps a hand over your wet pussy.

"I'm sensitive, you asshole!" You're smiling even as you whine. "And, here I was about to give you head to get you off."

"I mean, you can still do that."

You glare up at him the whole time you slide off the bed to your knees, warn, "Better hope I don't bite."

After you leave (and after making out against Mike’s Wrangler for a little too long), he goes back inside to find Erwin and Levi lounging in the den with a movie playing. He wastes no time in snapping his fingers at Erwin and commanding, "We're gonna talk."

"Oh, are we?" Erwin doesn't even look away until Mike grabs the back of his shirt, and only then does he move from his spot. "Okay, okay, watch the wrinkles, bro."

He follows Mike into the kitchen, out of earshot unless either of them raise their voices which… Could happen.

"What the fuck was that?" Mike hisses.

Erwin looks at him with big blue eyes and plays dumb, "What the fuck was what?"

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Mike makes sure his voice comes out low and steady, "Smith, I swear to God, it's been a long time since I've punched you, but you're fuckin' testing me, dude."

Erwin smiles, face lighting up with what looks like excitement but could also be fury.

"Mike," he starts. "Don't tell me you're getting violent over a girl." His tone is patronizing, his eyebrows are high, and his grin is downright menacing.

"I haven't gotten violent yet," Mike grits.

"Hey, how was I to know what you two were doing up there?"

"It's not about you walking in, dude! It's about you just fucking standing there!"

Erwin chuckles and blows him off, "Mike, I've seen your dick before. You've got nothing to worry about."

"That's not what I'm worried about. You just, like, came in when she was in a vulnerable position, and that's fucked up."

"She didn't seem to mind."

Mike sucks his teeth, takes another grounding breath, then asks again, "Why? Why did you wait to leave?"

"You want me to be honest?" Erwin rolls his neck then his shoulders. Mike has seen him do that many times before lacrosse games to loosen up—to get ready for a fight.

Mike's fist clenches at his side. "Yeah, I do."

"You've been making yourself crazy over this girl since the start of the semester, and I want to know why."

"What do you mean?" Mike doesn't know why he asks, has a pretty good idea of what Erwin is alluding to.

The blond still dodges the question but in about the worst way possible. "It's not like you two are exclusive or anything."

Mike feels the way his lungs fill to the point of burning, how his jaw clenches until his molars begin to ache under the pressure, and before he really knows what's happening, he's bowing up to his best friend.

Erwin matches him, only a couple inches shorter, chin tilted, that maddening light in his eyes.

"Walk away, Mike," he warns. "And, we can forget this little spat even happened."

Mike peers down his nose at him, trying to rein in his emotions because Erwin is right. You two aren't exclusive. You don't want to be. You told him it was because you need to focus on school, but it could be that you want other options.

But fuck, Mike doesn't want Erwin to be one of them. He's stolen more than a few girls right from under Mike's nose with his stupid charm and stupid face and stupid money. He doesn't want you to fall prey to all of it too.

Mike doesn't even register the quiet footsteps padding into the kitchen, but Levi's smartass, "You guys about to kiss or somethin'?" definitely snaps him out of his head.

Stepping back, Mike resists the urge to punch the counter and break his fucking hand, then turns and strides out.

He's supposed to stay at the ranch house for a couple more days, but Mike needs to distance himself before he does something stupid.

When he comes back downstairs with his bag on his shoulder and his keys in his hand, Erwin seems to realize his error on at least some level and stands from his place on the couch.

"Mike, come on, I'm sor—"

"Let me cool off, dude,” Mike snaps.

Erwin shuts his mouth and sits back down, smart enough not to follow Mike outside.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #mels prima vista #mels frat house

283 notes · View notes

sapnoopy · 4 years

Text

Second Place. ;; Dream x Reader

genre: angst, soulmate au, enemies to lover au.

Will be split into two parts! ^^

Clay and I would always compete over the smallest thing. Whether who can read a book faster, or who can eat the peas on our plate faster.

As we grew older, it mainly became academics and our athletic skills. But I was always second place. Sure, second place doesn’t sound bad, but I hated how Clay was better than me.

My friends and the girls around talks about if they’ve met their soulmates or what kind of mark was on their arm. It was great listening and all, but I had more stuff to focus.

My ear catches a familiar laugh glancing at the dirty blonde hair sitting on the table, fooling around with his friends. I didn’t get it. I knew I studied more, I practiced sports more, but how is he better than me? Natural selection at its finest I guess.

I peeked at my arm seeing the mark for the 50th time. The mark was a smiley face.

Putting my focus on my notes, The bell rings and everyone goes back to their seats. The teacher enters the class holding a pile of papers.

"Goof afternoon students! Hope you're having a wonderful day. Anyways, I have a announcement for you guys! We will be having a big test in two weeks!"

Groans and the sound of disappointment fills the room.

Sighing, I listen to the teacher explaining how this is a big part in our grades. The teacher ends explaining, and starts with the lesson. Feeling a buzz in my pocket, I check my phone seeing that I got a text from Clay.

Clay: Our parents planned to have dinner together. Its at 7pm.

Me: kk.

Since we live next to each other, our parents get along. Here comes the getting compared time.

Stomach filling with dread, I focus on class while having a familiar pair of eyes on me.

Time passes, I enter my house noticing no ones at home heading straight to my room. Throwing my bag to the corner of my room, I flop onto my bed and groaning in exhaustion.

I hear a light scratches on my window lifting my head of to see Patches, Clay's cat. Putting a smile on my face, I crawl to the window opening it letting the cat come in.

"Hey Patches! How are you doing today?"

Rubbing onto my body I get a meow as a response. A giggle comes out of my mouth patting her.

Patches comes to my room after school sometimes for us to cuddle and take a nap. She basically became my emotional support.

I lay down opening my arms indicating her lay down with me. I check the time seeing it's 4pm thinking I have enough time to take a nap and get ready. Yawning, I gave Patches pats and fell into deep slumber.

Waking up to the cold air hitting my face, I've noticed I forgot to close the window and noticed Patches was gone. Slightly disappointed, I checked my phone noticing the texts from Clay.

Clay: Is Patches at your place?

Clay: We're going to the restaurant together. come out at 6:30.

Clay: I'm coming in in 35 more min.

Checking the time, my eyes widen and I immediately pop out of bed running to the showroom starting the shower and stripping. I have 30 more minutes. Taking a quick shower and popping out wrapping my body in a towel I dash to my closet grabbing a gray dress. Getting changed, doing make up, yada yada all that shit.

I check the time noticed I have 3 more minutes. Grabbing stuff that I need I head downstairs going out making sure the door is locked.

"Nice. You had 14 more seconds." I hear a voice and a car that was started up.

"Shut up." I mutter rolling my eyes heading to his car opening the door and entering into the passenger seat.

Clay does the same, putting on his seatbelt and starts to drive.

Silence fills the car and my eyes are looking outside. I've noticed the same pair of eyes again staring at me making me sigh.

"Can you like, not? Stare at me? Do I look that bad?" I grumbled.

"No no. Quite the opposite. You look stunning as usual."

Heat covers my ears punching his arm getting a small 'ow' from him.

"What's wrong with you?? You ate something weird today?"

"Hey, am I not allowed to compliment or two?"

"It's just weird to get one from you."

"Okay, okay."

Our conversation ends and I look back at the window. The window reflects on Clay making me notice how good he looks. Gasping at the sudden thought of mine, I slapped myself getting a questioning look from him.

"You ok there?" He asks.

"Yeah just thinking of something. Don't mind me."

"Okay. We're almost there by the way."

We pull up at the restaurant, entering the place trying to find our parents who seemed to already be drinking. We head to our parents who finally sees us.

"Good evening Clay and Y/N! Very glad that you join dinner today. Sit down, it'll be rude to stand forever." My father exclaims.

Clay pulls a seat for me to sit in giving him small thanks. He sits down next to me grabbing a menu for us to see. Trying to see the menu more better, I get closer to Clay getting a smell of eucalyptus from him.

Picking a dish from the menu, I called for the waiter telling her what I'm ordering. Clay proceeds to do the same. The waiter leaves our table and my mother coughs getting our attention.

"So Y/N and Clay. How was school today? Anything exciting?" She asks.

"Not much ma'am. Our exams are getting closer so we have to start preparing for it." Clay replies, getting a smile from her. She looks at me suddenly changing of how she stares.

"I wish my daughter was smart as you. Always getting second place, at worst third place, what a shame. I wish you were my son instead." She laughs.

I chew my cheek in discomfort. Clay awkwardly laughs trying to say something but I stop him by lightly bumping my leg at him.

The atmosphere slightly gets awkward but Clay's father starts talking about the economy which really helps. Our food comes and we finish it peacefully without any commotion.

"Clay, we plan to go to a bar after this. Please bring home Y/N safely ok? Don't be up to late and I'll see you tomorrow." His mother pats his shoulder and he nods.

I give my farewell to the adults and head inside the car. Clay starts up the car driving back. Our ride back was very quiet but a nice quiet. We get there and I leave the car thanking Clay.

"Wait." he stops me.

"What's wrong?"

"I- nothing. Good night."

Slightly confused, I give a good night back entering the house heading to my room. I get changed and as soon as I was about to head to bed, I remember what my mother said. Sighing, I go to my desk pulling my notebooks studying for a bit.

going to cut off here cuz its getting too long lmao

ALSO sorry for not posting for awhile ;; will be active again!!

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken #dream mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt headcanons #mcyt angst #fanfic #ao3

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dcforts · 4 years

Text

[day 8: “there is no need for mistletoe.”]

“Are you guys decent?” comes Sam’s voice from the other side of their door.

“Yes,” is Cas’ reply, at the same time Dean says, “No.”

Sam pushes the door open anyway, saying “I’m trusting Cas’ common sense – “ but judging from the way his face falls he regrets it immediately.

The place is a mess - clothes, bottles and the pizza boxes he himself delivered to their room the night before cover every surface - and they are only half covered by their blankets. Cas is propped against the headboard, his hair wild and Dean’s head on his chest.

Dean is vaguely aware that it’s the afternoon but has no idea what time or for how long they’ve been in this position. There have been naps and kisses and more naps and he’s feeling too relax to have a care in the world.

He snorts softly at the look on his brother’s face.

“And that’s what you get for it, Sammy,” he says, with a lazy smirk.

Sam blushes and grumbles, “Yeah, thanks a lot, Cas,” and fixes his eyes on the wall, “Just wanted to say that if you think you’re able to get out of here, Eileen and I are going to the Christmas market out of town. Wanna come with?”

“Yeah, I dunno,” is Dean’s reply. “It’s cold and we’re kinda living our best lives right here.”

Sam winces, “Gross. Whatever. Just – if you wanna join us, we’re leaving in twenty,” he says. He may add something else but Cas has started dragging his fingers up and down Dean’s arm so he has stopped paying attention.

Only when he hears Cas’s mellow voice saying, “Thank you Sam, we’ll think about it” he realizes that the door has been closed again.

“We will?”

Cas kisses the top of his head.

Against all odds, they somehow manage to untangle their limbs and stay apart long enough to get dressed. Cas does most of the work, throwing back at him pieces of clothings he finds around the room, and unsuccessfully tries to coax him into wearing a hat.

Eileen shows her surprise when she sees them standing at the entrance.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.”

“We’ve been busy,” says Dean and Cas is so close that it seems such a shame not to lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth when it quirks up.

Eileen rolls her eyes and signs something to Sam that makes him laugh, then says, “Yeah, I can see that.”

Dean doesn’t care enough to ask. He misses his blankets already. But at least Sam’s driving, so he can snuggle with Cas in the backseat and chase the warmth that he left behind.

They’ve set up the market in a street closed to the traffic and now in the cold and dark surroudings there’s a bright concentration of life and lights.

“You should have worn a hat,” says Cas as they are queuing for their tickets.

“We’re not getting into this again,” he says, wondering why there are so many people around them. Maybe it’s a Sunday, “You know what day it is?”

Cas shrugs. They look at each other for a moment then they both stifle a laugh.

Dean tries to focus on where they are and what they’re doing, but his thoughts are drown out by the lights and the Christmas songs coming from the nearby speakers, and there’s a spot under Cas’ ear that his eyes keep going back to that just begs to be kissed.

He can’t help it.

Cas tries to wiggle away and pulls down his hat.

“Sam said we need to behave,” he says, with a little grin.

“Don’t care,” says Dean, still with his nose pressed against his skin, and meets no resistance when he moves to find his mouth.

Sam chooses that moment to look over his shoulder, “I’ve got – oh, I’m regretting this already,” Dean hears him muttering as he turns around again.

Entering the Christmas market is like stepping into a dream. There are twinkling lights hanging above them and the vendors’ booths on each side are covered in fake snow and all sorts of festive decorations – each offering local products and handcrafted knick-knacks.

Dean doesn’t remember the last time he’s been to one of these things. Knowing that he’s there just to let go and enjoy it fills him with an excitement that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

A guy in a reindeer costume gives Cas a silver garland that he wears around his neck and they stroll down the street, pulling each other by the hand.

Sam and Eileen are a few feet ahead resolutely avoiding them because “they’re embarassing”.

Whatever. It’s easy not to lose them in the crowd when your brother towers over everyone else. He grabs their attention from time to time, waving and pointing at the booths he and Eileen intend to check out.

Dean, on the other hand, is more content to follow the smell of roasted chestnuts and candied nuts. Cas gets a bag of the latter and Dean gets to kiss the sugar from his lips and it kinda makes it up for the effort it took to go out.

From there it’s a beeline for the mulled wine booth. The drink is stronger than Dean thought and he feels light and warm in no time. He thinks he hears himself singing Joy to the World and then he doesn’t know how but all of the sudden he’s wearing Cas’ hat.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he stops in his track and points at his head, “I never agreed to this.”

“You did,” Cas laughs.

“Whe-?” he tries to say, but Cas is leaning in for another kiss and Dean decides that it doesn’t really matter.

They finally catch up with Sam and Eileen as they are about to buy a wreath with red bows and pine-cones and bells.

Eileen takes a look at them approaching and taps Sam’s shoulder to say, amused, “We shouldn’t have left them alone.”

She signs something else and Dean recognizes ‘drunk’.

"Now, this is what I call a wreath," says Dean, pointing at the biggest one on display with lights, baubles and red berries. “Sammy, we’re getting that one, right?”

“We already chose this one.”

The vendor behind the booth follows their exchange with a smile and cuts in to say, “If you buy two I’ll throw in a sprig of mistletoe.”

“No,” shouts out Sam, and then laughs embarassed, holding up one hand, “Sorry. Sorry, thank you, but - believe me. There’s no need for mistletoe at our house,” he says, pointing a thumb at the two of them. “Actually, it’s like our ceiling is made of mistletoe.”

Dean shrugs and Cas smiles, circling his waist and pecking his cheek.

“I like the one with the pop corn,” he says against his skin and Dean feels tingling from head to toe.

“We’re taking them all,” he says, vigorously slapping Sam on the back.

Sam gives a pointed look at the vendor as if to say. “See what we put up with?”, then sighs and opens up his wallet.

Cas is still a little wobbly on his feet as they make their way to their car.

They insist they barely had a drink, but Sam says he saw them swaying and apologizing to a pole they ended up bumping against so he’s not sure he believes them.

Dean is feeling great.

“Thank you for the wreath, Sam,” Cas says, as they fall in step with them.

Sam huffs a laugh and grabs his shoulder to steady him.

“You’re welcome, Cas. Did you have fun?”

"I had a great time."

“That’s great. If you think you can give the world beyond your room a chance again tomorrow, we’re thinking of going to a Christmas tree farm a couple of hours from here.”

"Yeah, I don’t think we can do that, Sammy,” cuts in Dean seriously, from the other side. He pauses for effect then adds, “Cas is too hot. May start a fire in there."

Sam groans and mouths “Oh my god,” as he quickens his pace to get away from them.

“This is the worst case of lovebird phase I’ve ever seen,” Eileen says shaking her head and following him into the car.

Dean snorts and slips an arm around Cas’ neck to pull his face closer.

“What is she talking about?” he asks, grinning.

Cas grins back, “I have no idea,” he says, before meeting his mouth halfway.

Sam from the car blasts the horn at them.

joining @bend-me-shape-me in doing this!

#SPNAdventCalendar2020 #deancas #deancas ficlet #destiel #destiel fanfic #saileen #1.4k #fluff #deancas are embarassing #lovebird phase look away #established relationship #pda #im SO jealous of them going to the christmas market #drinking mulled wine and eating candied nuts :(#i basically wrote this just to be able to live it through them and spend the day researching wreaths #this morning it was funny then i dont know what happened #my writing

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minor-solemnity · 3 years

Note

Hi, you’re writing is so beautiful, thank you for sharing it :)

Can I request a Tom x Reader where they take a mini vacation somewhere really secluded and they’re so happy to be finally spending time with eachother and they’re both just being super domestic and sweet.

Thank you! 🤍

Thank you my love! This prompt is giving me life istg, sweet and domestic Tom is my jam <3 I hope you like it (also am I basically writing what my dream holiday is? it's definitely possible)

Tag List : @mainlynonsense @cakesarecute @jinxqsu @naps-and-lemons @riddles-wifey (send me a message if you'd want to be added to the tag list!)

We are Mosaics

Tom turns to look at you and you recognise the determined glint in his eye and the set line of his lips which lets you know that a plan is forming and he won’t be dissuaded easily. “The Malfoy’s have a cottage in the Dolomites. I’ll talk to Abraxas.” He says it with such finality that you’re almost surprised before you remember that this is Tom. Tom who’s had his Slytherin cohort eating out of the palm of his hand for years, Tom who had marriage offers from a few of the lesser-known pureblood families, Tom who puts the fear of God into the hearts of most men. Of course, Abraxas would give him his family cottage.

You’re sitting on your sofa in the small flat you’ve rented above Flourish and Blotts glaring at the letter that sits innocently on the coffee table in front of you when Tom apparates through your wards. Your mood, which has been growing increasingly dark with the setting sun lifts somewhat when you see him. His jacket folded neatly over his arm and his white shirt slightly rumpled from the day, his hair, which he styles with care every morning is falling in soft waves across his forehead. In short, he looks like every one of your daydreams and you’re filled with a contented sort of triumph that it’s you who he comes home to most evenings. Your flat is small and certainly not big enough for you both to live comfortably, but he spends more time here than he does at his own, equally poky, abode.

His gaze flickers over the letter on the coffee table and you can see him putting the pieces together. “Bad news, I take it?” He asks in a slightly cautious tone that tells you he’s waiting for your imminent breakdown. You nod and sigh as you push yourself up from where you’ve been sulking for most of the afternoon. You gravitate towards him like a moth to a flame, the same way you always do, the same way you always have, and nestle yourself against him, allowing yourself to feel comforted and protected by the feeling of his arms around you.

“I just don’t understand why no one will give me a chance. I had the best marks in Arithmancy in the year,” You grumble into his chest. “Did you hear that Pearson got that Potions Mastery? He got an A in his NEWTS, Tom. Why does he get to do a Mastery and all I get is rejection letters?” You sigh because you know the answer. It’s the same reason that Tom wasn’t offered any of the prodigious jobs at the Ministry despite being the most talented wizard you’ve ever met with a resume that proves it. Wizarding society might be more progressive than the muggle world in some ways, but in the ways that matter to you and Tom, it was still stuck in the Middle Ages.

Eventually, you disentangle yourself from him and you spend the rest of the evening curled up on the sofa with him, reading and chatting idly about the stranger aspects of your respective magical theory texts. “Did you know about the coven in the Dolomites from the 1450s?” He asks, eyes trained on the page in front of him.

“Mmm, they’re the first known herders of thestrals, weren’t they?” He nods and you smile softly, “I’ve always wanted to visit there, you know? Ever since we learnt about thestrals in fourth year.”

You don’t think anything of it but Tom turns to look at you and you recognise the determined glint in his eye and the set line of his lips which lets you know that a plan is forming and he won’t be dissuaded easily. “The Malfoy’s have a cottage in the Dolomites. I’ll talk to Abraxas.” He says it with such finality that you’re almost surprised before you remember that this is Tom. Tom who’s had his Slytherin cohort eating out of the palm of his hand for years, Tom who had marriage offers from a few of the lesser-known pureblood families, Tom who puts the fear of God into the hearts of most men. Of course, Abraxas would give him his family cottage.

“The perks of having rich friends, I suppose,” You say with a small laugh and the smile he gives you in return is indulgent.

***

When Tom had first told you about Abraxas’ family cottage, you had imagined that your definition of a cottage and the Malfoy’s would be vastly different. You’d gone with Tom to one of the Malfoy Christmas parties once and had almost cried at the luxury and decadence. You’re pleasantly surprised though to find that the cottage is exactly as you’d hoped it would be: sturdy white stone, lattice windows, and a multitude of wild mountain flowers that make the place look like a fae dwelling. “This is gorgeous,” You murmur as you wander through the garden, letting the warm summer mountain air fill your lungs. “I never would have thought that the Malfoy’s would own somewhere quite so homely.” Behind you, Tom laughs softly.

“I think there’s a distant cousin who fancied herself a Marie Antoinette figure,” He says, stepping closer to you and resting his chin on the top of your head. “Are you happy?” He asks and you hum in response, bringing your arms up behind you to card through his hair. You twist around pull him closer and his hands drop to your waist as he kisses you.

You spend most of the rest of the day exploring the paths and trails close to the cottage whilst Tom sets up the wards. The worries and stresses of London seem so far away and you relish in the slight breeze against your bare arms and the feeling of long grass and wildflowers against your legs.

You think back to your childhood, to the holidays spent in English seaside resorts with your parents; when the war broke out, the holidays stopped. Your father disappeared into a trench somewhere and your mother had taken you back to her parents home and left the muggle world for good but she was never quite the same after. Hogwarts and the wizarding world, in general, offered you an escape. A home away from the sorrow of watching your family drift and sink into unspoken grief and sadness. You’d found Tom somewhere along the way, both of you finding some kind of solace and familiarity in each other. A tentative friendship had formed that had turned to a tentative romance.

You wonder sometimes, why he sticks around. Unlike the boys he surrounded himself at school with, you can’t offer him money or power or glory. You’ve had to fight for every opportunity given to you, just the same as him, and it’s still not enough. In your more anxious moments, you think about his future and your uncertainty over where you fit into it. Now, under the clear Italian skies, you think that maybe the answer is obvious: you fit together like pieces of a mosaic. Each of your broken and jagged edges finding a home next to his.

***

“You’re aware that you’re a witch, aren’t you?” Tom’s voice floats through the open doorway and you chuckle from where you’re standing on one of the kitchen workbenches. You glance over your shoulder and find him watching you with a mix of exasperation, confusion, and mild amusement. He walks over to you and stares at the pile of dough you’re kneading, his eyebrows knitting together. “I’ll get Abraxas to send one of his house-elves.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head fondly. Tom’s disdain for all things muggle has diminished since you’ve known him, or at least, he’s less likely to voice his opinions to you. “That’s not the point, making bread is meditative. Come on, here,” You gesture for him to take over and watch with poorly hidden amusement as he frowns and takes a step back. “You once made Peeves cry out of fear, Tom, you can’t honestly be intimidated by some flour and water.” You raise an eyebrow and try to smother your grin with an unimpressed expression. You’ve found that the easiest way of getting Tom to do anything is to suggest that he can’t.

As expected, he glowers and rolls his sleeves up. “I’m not intimidated, darling, I just don’t see the point in slaving away over something that could easily be accomplished with magic,” He says smoothly even as he approaches the dough and gingerly pokes it. This time, you don’t manage to hide your laughter and you cover his hands with yours and begin to guide him through the motions. A companionable silence falls upon the two of you and you relish the feeling of his chest against your back, his soft breathing in your ear, his hands moving under yours. Sunshine filters through the open window and you listen to the distant birdsong in quiet contentment.

Once the bread has baked, the two of you wander along the mountain trail that leads to a secluded lake. The water is crystal clear and the kind of icy blue that you’ve only seen in paintings. Tom leads you to a small jetty and conjures a pile of blankets and pillows that you quickly set about making a nest out of. You sit cross-legged, Tom’s head resting in your lap as he reads passages from the book he’s brought with him out loud to you. “According to legend, the Monti Pallidi used to be formed of dark looming rock face and the lakes were murky and black, but there was a princess from the moon who took refuge in the Dolomites and to ease her homesickness, the mountains remade themselves with pale stone and clear waters.”

“She must have been lonely, being so far away from home,” You murmur, carding a hand through his hair as you tilt your head to stare at the pale mountains that surround you. “You know, I sometimes think of you a bit like that, like you’re a moon and I’m a satellite in your orbit.” He hums softly, and you’re not sure if it's in agreement or contemplation. You shift slightly and reach for the food that you’ve packed: fresh fruit, cured meats, hard Italian cheese, a bottle of wine that you’d found in the cellars (no doubt worth more than Tom makes in a year), and of course, the bread you’d made earlier.

You tear off a couple of chunks of bread and pass one to Tom, who takes it and sniffs it delicately before he takes a small bit. You breathe a huff of laughter at his behaviour and he lazily reaches up to cuff the side of your head. “See, it’s good, isn’t it? This kind of thing is always better when you make it yourself,” He rolls his eyes but tears off another chunk, which you take to mean he is, in fact, enjoying it.

The afternoon fades into evening, and twilight descends upon the mountains. You rearrange yourselves so that your sat side by side, gazing up at the moon that is just becoming visible. “You know, I would do more than remake a mountain range if you asked.” Warmth settles deep in your bones despite the chill in the night air. Tom turns to watch you and you don’t bother hiding your smile. “I would remake the entire world for you.” You don’t doubt him either, Tom is a force of nature, always has been. He’s a visionary and you’re not always sure if that’s a good thing, but, years ago, he saw something in you and now he looks at you as though you are everything that he wants in the world.

You reach over and hold his hand, letting his touch ground you, “For now, this is enough.” You mean this moment, sitting here with him. You also mean the life you are slowly patching together, one mosaic tile at a time.

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x reader #minific #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fic #harry potter fanfiction #tom riddle fanfiction #prompt fill #prompt #asks #requests #request

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jiminrings · 3 years

Note

omg omg omg... what if jk sees yn WALKING TAE HOME?? like it looks like that but they’re just passing by his place or something and he’s actually walking yn home ?? and to make matters worse jk THOUGHT it wasn’t like that but someone told him “oh yeah she’s walking him home, she’s always done that with him” sorry if it’s not an original idea

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

it’s raining at a party and jungkook gets the wrong idea

“good evening.”

yoongi sQUAWKS at the shock that’s mere inches away from his face, having only woken up from his afternoon nap that ended up with him waking right before dinner

why were you all up in his face

what the fuck was that for ://

“god, never do that to me again,” he grumbles at the abrupt awakening even if it’s his system that told him to, only a convenience that you happen to be there when he was starting to shift in his now-shallow slumber

“guess what!!!”

oh you’re squealinG??? alright that must be good

it’s nice to hear you excited anyways because you haven’t been for a long time ever since j*ngkook lol

“just show me,” yoongi sits up fully from his position on the couch, rubbing the remaining sleep off his eyes

normally, you would be pissed instantly because him not guessing just spoils your whole excitement

but tHIS time you don’t look bothered at the slightest, proceeding to take his faux disinterest in stride

the door clicks open and seokjin strides in like he owns the place, trying to immerse himself in the situation he’s walked on as fast as possible

you squeal in regard, eyes now switching between him and yoongi before you whip out something from behind your back

“i got a lunchbox!!!!”

you thrust the lunchbox (you recreated it in the way you receiver it) to yoongi’s face and he flinches momentarily, eyes focusing on the lunchbox first before his mind processes your words

“that is a really shiny scarf it’s — wait what??”

you,,, gOT A LUNCHBOX????

..... and it’s not from him??

yoongi looks at seokjin and the way he looks perplex but definitely sure confirms that it isn’t him either

“so someone — you received a lunchbox. huh.”

WOOOOOOW

you nod earnestly, admiring the shiny scarf and the handiwork of an embroidery that’s your name on it

“yup! i was with taehyung when i noticed it on the corner of the room.”

oh god

seokjin scratches the back of his head and it’s a dead giveaway that yoongi notices, something sketchy definitely up in the air that shouldn’t be there

“yoongi! come here for a sec. i have a uh, question about weed :-)”

jin is nOT good when it comes to segues

he takes the liberty to pull aside a yoongi who has question marks knitted on his eyebrows, his gaze immediately trained on him once they’re far enough away from you

“long story but!!!!! that jungkook kid gave y/n the lunchbox. taehyung just happened to be there.”

you see

yoongi could only digest multiple things from a single sentence at once

but the problem is, he’s digesting EVERYTHING from jin’s sentence and he didn’t want to

he’s just gonna omit the parts he hates the most :D

“y/n. taehyung gave you that lunchbox. say thank you to him tomorrow morning.”

NO??????

jin sputters because that is clearly not the truth he’s just said

and apparently, you seem to think so to because you just laughed at his cutthroat statement

“no he didn’t,” you heartily laugh, putting down the lunchbox before crossing your arms across his chest

no way

both jin and yoongs freeze this time because does that mean you already know who gave the lunchbox to you??

and if you know who, and if you’re laughing right now,,,, does that mean you’ve already forgiven jungkook????

pls say no

“i already thanked taehyung, yoongs,” you smile at the fresh memory, “but two seconds later, he told me that he WASN’T the one who made it for me. he said he’s good at baking, but horrendous at cooking!!!!”

...

.....

“....... so you really don’t know who it is?”

“nope! not a clue :D”

whew

yoongi thinks you should never get to know who it is

jin thinks you shouldn’t know who it is tHIS early

yoongi dodges the topic easily to refrain from dwelling on it any longer, about to send an angry text full of queries to jin later on

“mmm. what was the lunch?”

“my favorite!!!” you beam and even whip out your phone to show them the picture of the food you ravaged hours ago

you turn your eyes to jin, giddy in excitement while yoongi’s holding your phone-holding hand to zoom into the picture

“and it’s just like your recipe!!!”

.. hehe

..... that’s because it his

goddamn jungkook managed to recreate it like his recipe???? hmm commendable

alright yoongi’s angrily looking at him rn

maybe he’ll send an angry paragraph text this time >:(

“weren’t you concerned like... since you don’t know the person? what if they poisoned your lunch?”

yoongi suggests in an attempt to make you think rationally, away from his insistence that you should nEVER know that jungkook made you your favorite

“then i got a good meal out of it.”

that’s not,,,, that’s not a good answer

b-bestie ??????

both yoongi and jin are speechless and the former takes the lead once more, clearing his throat because the conflict of this lunchbox thing is presenting makes his head ache

“anyways, there’s another party tonight.”

you raise your hand quick in the prospect of unwinding for free

“i’m in!!”

“you should be. hoseok’s the host.”

that makes it even better!!!

it apparently doesn’t for mr. student affairs because jin groans in annoyance, not really digging his school official position because he’d need to sit this one out forcibly :///

“goddamn it. jung’s throwing it? his parties are sO good that it even reached our radar when i was still a senior!”

it it reaches senior-level status of approval then that’s like,,,, the only seal of approval you’d ever need

“no way,” you’re awed at the newfound fact, not expecting that hoseok was already an A+ party-thrower even before he became a senior this year

“even namjoon liked his parties.”

namjoon THEE student registrar??? the same namjoon as in your friend by extension because he’s sort of a friend to seokjin???? :O

“really? even namjoon found his parties great??? BUT HE’S LIKE-“ yoongi finds the right substitute words to a stick up his ass in the most respectful way possible because he’s sort of friends with the guy too, “he’s like namjoon,, he’s the antithesis to hoseok.”

jin shrugs because everyone knows the saying at this point

there’s something for everyone at jung’s

“wear a face mask?” yoongi suggests to jin so he wouldn’t be recognized, knowing he’s a lil upset that he can’t come to this party because the face he boasts about is known by everybody

“no. i’m gonna look like a fucking narc, yoongi.”

alright that makes sense

he bounces back from that, waving his hand to shoo you and yoongi off

“sucks. yeah whatever. i’ll hold the fort down, just don’t do anything stupid enough for me to pick you up.”

you’re not gonna do anything stupid!! :)

jungkook’s too down to even focus at the moment

he’s at his desk and he’s supposed to study for a test tomorrow, and all the material needed for it is engraved in his mind already, but well

yeah his mind’s only fixed on you right now and not chemistry

“she thought it was someone else who gave her the lunchbox.”

jin flinches as his door bursts open, his lunch break sign posted rIGHT outside the door to avoid things like these happening

oh it’s jungkook

oh. it’s jungkook ://

“i keep telling you that counseling’s right next door, kid.”

jin himself digs the running joke but jungkook apparently doesn’t, a sorrowed look to his face that can’t be fixed by some teasing

jin ignored that obviously because it’s not like he’s on jeon’s side!! he’s just here to be as neutral and realistic as much as possible

“and besides, it’s not like you put your name on it, right?? wasn’t that your whole purpose? do it to her like she did to you?

”m-my name...,. i’ll put my name...?”

WAIT HOLD ON

jungkook jolts from his desk, an epiphany forming in his mind

he may not have understood the interaction he had with mr. kim hours ago, but after replaying it in his head for hours now (along with that part of you mistaking taehyung to be the giver), he fINALLY gets an idea

he rushes out of his room and right to the couch where jimin’s sprawled out and watching a movie

“hi jimin!!! is there a party tonight?”

jimin almost falls out of his seat from the surprise of seeing jungkook altogether, gripping his chest

“f-fuck! — yeah. yeah dude, there’s a party tonight...?”

wait why is he asking

“o-okay!! take me with you.”

WHAT

jimin’s surprised that jungkook wants to come with, let alone even ask in the first place

buuuut jimin’s a good friend and he’ll say his assurances first before he gets to asking the why aspect to this

“alright. by the way about last time, kook — i swear i won’t leave you alone this time!! i’m gonna hold my alcohol in and-“

“no, no!” jungkook interrupts and shakes his head strongly, spooking jimin for a second with how determined he looks

“you can leave me alone at the party!! i-i’ll be there on my own.”

this is his idea

he’s a man with a plan!!! he’s also a man who has your eyedrops and the various containers he made with it inside his gigantic hoodie pocket

he’s more comfortable now than he was the first time he came around at a party

he knows you’re here somewhere along the crowd and that alone brings him comfort :-)

“i’m gonna go outside. these vape juices are annoying.”

you huff the moment you get a whiff of sriracha-flavored vape juice one more time, the whole area where you happen to sit in being the most annoyingly-scented room in the whole house

who does that!!!!! who gets condiments as their fucking vape juice!!!!!

yoongi waves you off as he’s also nearing his limit too, his peeve being mint chocolate juice and he’s gonna dip as sOON as this dude at the corner tries blowing it into laughable smoke rings again

yeah that’s what fresh air smells like alright

.... and rain??

it’s raining???

wow you haven’t even noticed and practically no one else did

hoseok’s sound system must be too good for none of you to notice that it’s raining outside!! a light shower that looks like it’s gonna turn into buckets within a matter of minutes

“Y/N!!!”

a voice yells into the street and your eyes widen with how loud it is, squinting your eyes hard to try and see the source

is that-

“TAEHYUNG?!?!”

is he running towards you??

wait why is he running towards you

(tae actually found out about this party through yoongi and he heard that there were non-alcoholic jello shots and mini cake hors d’oeuvres which are his favorites so he’s sprinting)

the way that he’s running towards you and the water that puddles when he steps gives you anxiety, a worried lilt to your yell

“TAE?? BE CAREFUL IT’S-“

taehyung can’t register what you just yelled out because before he knows it, he slips

he slips suddenly in the rain and there’s a harsh twist to his ankle in doing so that makes him choke out

“WHAT DID YOU — FUCK!!^]%{^]”

oh my god

you grab the nearest umbrella in the rack from your right, speed-walking to where taehyung’s fallen on the ground

he’s visibly startled, blubbering when you get to him

“i-i’m not crying. it’s the rain.”

of course :-)

you lift taehyung without much help from him since it’s hard for him to shift his body weight into one foot, putting yourself underneath his arm

“yeah, i believe you,” you smile as to comfort him and he returns it in relief, knocking the side of his head to the top of yours because his adrenaline’s through the roof

“i’ll walk you home. or to the emergency room. your call.”

“ER please??? god, m-my roommate’s into crystals and i don’t think amethyst can help me with this.”

yeah lmao that’s your cue to start walking

you text seokjin to meet you at the hospital instead of here, having to consider the fact that an official from student affairs is picking you up and is indeed your best friend being enough of a shock for poor taehyung at the moment

jungkook’s been looking for you for the past minute ever since you stood up from the couch, following you out the door but uh,,, you’re not here??

who is here?

oh wait!!! that’s vernon at the bench by the front foor!!! he’s from his stem class :D

“was that y/n? a-and taehyung?”

jungkook doesn’t beat around the bush because he’s sort of friends with the guy too, the same guy who’s a lil giggly with the daiquiris at the moment

“hey jimin!! what’s up dude? yeah, that was y/n and taehyung.”

uhm what

jimin’s BLONDE!! how could he get mistaken for jimin?

jungkook ignores the mistaken identity, eyes anxiously pointing towards the road again

“she’s walking him home?”

“totally. she’s always done that with him.”

what

..... what

he’s trying to trust it on good faith that vernon absolutely doesn’t know what he’s talking about

jungkook’s hurt but god does that pain shoot through him instantly, getting out of the porch wistlessly

wAIT

that’s you!!! that’s still you!!!!

and you’re-

????

you’re holding up taehyung and he’s limping

your ears pick up on the sudden running behind you and that pANICS you and in turn panics tae

but that doesn’t matter

it shouldn’t.

the cabs are atleast three more blocks away and neither of you brought a car because the dorms are walking-distance

everyone that’s left at the party has got to be too intoxicated to even put a key in the ignition

the weight on your shoulder eases and it makes you stop in your tracks to see if tae’s suddenly regrouped

is that —

jungkook lifts taehyung by his other arm, the light shower of rain making his hair damp without an umbrella like yours

“taehyung’s hurt.”

it only registers now that you’re seeing jungkook and he’s right here, surprising you as a whole

jungkook’s as startled as you are, swallowing the nervousness upon seeing you to get his words out

“a-and i wanna talk to you.”

#wHAT SHOULD HAPPEN AT THE NEXT UPDATE OMG #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook drabble #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

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duskholland · 4 years

Note

What about a Soft!Mob!Tom where the reader is suuper pregnant and tom gets anything she needs (like cravings or something), and even cuddles her.

Love u

grrr this is so cute. so so so so so cute. thanks for requesting! cw: food.

– it’s mob monday !! –

“How’s that, darling? Is that better?”

Tom’s looking at you, concern written across his face. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, his shirt crumpled. For the last two minutes, he’s been fussing around you, trying to fluff up the pillow behind your back so you’ll be comfortable. It doesn’t matter how much you move and try to reposition—there’s been a sharp pain jabbing into your lower back for the last hour, and it’s been incredibly irritating.

You hum, shifting around slightly as you test the waters with this new position. A broad smile finds your mouth.

“Better!” You announce. You sigh as you lay back, your hand drifting to rest on the curve of your baby bump. You’re eight months pregnant, and though you’re enjoying your pregnancy for the most part, it’s grown tiresome. Your hormones are all over the place, your feet hurt all the time, and the cravings have been incredibly intense.

“Can I get you anything else?” Tom asks. He reaches down to rest his palm on your belly, his pinky finger wrapping around yours. His eyes are tired but still so full of love, and you feel your heart do a backflip as you meet them.

“No, I’m okay.” You link your hand with his and squeeze him softly. “You should go back to your meeting. I’ll be fine here.”

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching together. “If you need anything—anything—you call me. Okay?”

You bite back the smile that threatens to seize hold of your features, and nod. Tom’s been incredibly protective for the entire duration of your pregnancy, looking after you more than you’d ever expected him to. He’s always taken care of you, but it’s been upped—he’s uneasy whenever he doesn’t have an eye on you and doesn’t like being away from you for too long. He’s incredibly doting, and giving, and patient, and you love him so much it makes your heart hurt.

“Go,” you urge, knowing he’d happily blow off another meeting for you. “I just need to rest. Go do your job, mister.”

He kisses the back of your hand before begrudgingly stepping away.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

For a while, you flick through the programmes on the large tv attached to the wall of your bedroom, only paying partial attention as you’re between sleep and consciousness. However, when a cooking show comes on screen, you find yourself waking up. You look at the screen, your eyes widening as they fall upon the delicious spread of food. Suddenly, you feel an incredibly strong, inconvenient craving come on.

You groan as you reach out, looking for your phone. You’re distracted by the tv as you write out some simple messages to Tom.

You: hey can someone get me one of those waffles from that market in camden pls You: a really big one with the strawberries and the syrup on You: please xxxx You: oh and cinnamon. thanks

Tom: give me ten minutes

You smile as you put your phone back on the mattress, stretching your arms out above your head as you sigh happily. Tom’s got men on the ground all across the city, so you don’t feel as bad as you did when you’d begged him to go out at 3am to bring you KFC. He’d done it, because he loves you, but you’d still felt guilty. It eases your heart to know he’ll probably just relay the message to someone else and then continue with his meeting, unbothered.

Instead, you find the bedroom door opening nine minutes later, and in strolls Tom, waffle in hand, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Here you go, my darling,” he announces. He passes you the plate and kisses your forehead before waltzing off to the side, his fingers going to his tie.

“Fuck,” you moan, taking the first bite of your food and feeling your tastebuds delight. “Thank you.” You look to Tom and frown as you see he’s stripping off. “Wait, what about your meeting?”

Tom quirks an eyebrow. “You need me,” he says, stating it as a fact.

You nod along, deciding not to tell him that you needed the waffle, not him, because now he’s walking towards you, shirtless and in a pair of grey sweats, and you realise...yeah. You’d quite like a cuddle.

“Definitely,” you agree. You finish eating and Tom takes the plate, putting it on the side. He offers you a glass of water, then waits for you to finish that too before approaching the bed. “Ah, fuck. I need to pee.”

Tom briefly rolls his eyes, well used to this by now. “You always need to pee,” he teases. He pulls back the duvet and offers you both hands, which you gratefully accept.

“Yeah, well, try carrying around a baby, and maybe then you’d understand.”

Tom kisses your temple before you walk away. You’re quick through the bathroom, and you find yourself yawning as you dry your hands on one of the soft cotton towels. When you walk back into the bedroom, you discover it considerably tidier than you’d left it. Tom’s apparently passed over it like some sort of cleaning fairy, and he’s moved away all the scattered clothes and dress pillows. He’s sitting in bed waiting for you, the big light switched off, and he’s apparently just as prepared as you to have a nap despite it only being late afternoon.

“You’re very cute,” you say as you get back into bed. You snuggle down and Tom curls into your side, throwing one of his legs over yours as he presses his face into your neck. His hand goes to your bump as he kisses up your neck, very softly.

“What d’you mean?” He mumbles, voice quiet and soft. His fingers draw light circles over your belly, and you hum contentedly. Already, you’re feeling sleepier, just from the darkness in the room and the warmth coming off Tom’s figure.

“So attentive,” you say. “So sweet. So...soft.”

Tom grumbles into your neck. “‘M not soft.”

“Yes, you are.” You snuggle further into the duvet and smile into the darkness. “Ditching your meetings for me, bringing me whatever I want, cuddling me all the time… You’re a big softie, Tom. It’s cute.”

“Hmph.” Tom rubs your stomach gently. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay. Happy mum, happy baby.” You roll your eyes as he repeats the buzz phrase which has characterised your pregnancy. Happy mum, happy baby has been his mantra. You aren’t complaining. It’s worked out quite well for you.

“Yeah, but when the baby’s here, you’ll be ditching me for her.”

“Never, darling, never.” Tom chuckles as he kisses your jaw. “You’ll just need to share the spotlight. Can you do that?”

You bring a hand up to play with his hair. “I think I’ll be able to figure something out,” you reply. You’re quiet for a few moments, your eyelids falling shut as you let yourself relax. You’re very content, with Tom’s soft curls against your neck and his soft breathing fanning out across your skin. You feel full of love. “‘M sleepy.”

“Go to sleep,” he whispers. Tom turns his head to kiss your shoulder. “I’m here.”

“Okay,” you mumble, yawning. One of your hands goes to rest on your stomach, and Tom repositions his palm so it’s resting on top of yours.

“Sweet dreams,” he coos. “Sleep well.”

#annnnd that's all i got for tonight ! hope you liked my v soft blurbs.... i would now like a baby pls :)#tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader blurb #tom holland fluff #myblurbs #tomblurbs #dad!tomfic #mob!tomfic #mob!tomblurbs #tom.sfw #q #also ? didnt rlly know what to use as the craving lmao personally the idea of cinammon and strawberry and chooclate makes me feel horrible #but if you like that....you do you fjdkhf #oh what syrup** not chocolate. i dont even know what i wrote hfjdkhf #anyways. enjoy :)

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libraryofloveletters · 4 years

Text

Love To Loss

Eddie Diaz x Reader

Warnings: mentions of childbirth, disagreements

Category: Angst

Word Count: 3k

Author’s Note: this was a product of my insomnia so here we go, also yeah I don’t know why it ended so abruptly but yeah :)

pt.2: Loss to Love

Was love real ?

Was it worth it ?

All the pain and broken hearts and despair, was it all worth it if in the end, I got to come home to you ?

No idea where you were going, where you’d end up or who you’d end up being but you never let that stop you. That’s how you could yourself outside the fire station. You weren't looking for a job, in fact you were looking for someone, someone you had lost so many years ago. The station was quiet, not sure if you were allowed to be in here when no one else was, you paced the empty station.

The sound of a horn made you look up, there was a fire engine that was waiting to reverse in and you were in the way. The door opening and shutting, a man walked towards you. “Excuse me, you can’t be standing there” he says, pointing to the side of the station, you step out of the way, allowing the truck to reverse in. You watched as he instructed the driver, the back of his jacket read Nash. He wasn't who you were looking for but maybe he could help you. The fire engine began emptying, one by one they stepped out.

“Can I help you ?” the same man returned to you.

“Um, I think you can. What’s your name if you don’t mind me asking ?”

“Bobby Nash, you are ?” he stuck his hand out

“Y/n “ you shook his hand. He had a fatherly aura to him, the type that made you feel safe and comfortable, like you didn’t have to worry about anything. Bobby smiled at you, “what can I help you with, y/n?”

“I’m actually looking for a friend. I lost touch with him a while- actually more than a while, it's been years”

“I’d love to help but what makes you think I can ?”

“All I know is that he's a firefighter. I just thought on the off chance, maybe you’d be able to point me in the right direction”

“Who’s your friend ?” Bobby asked

“Edmundo Diaz, he goes by Eddie”

Bobby let out a laugh, your brows furrowed. Either there was good news and he knew him or there was bad news and Eddie had vanished or something horrible. You braced yourself for the answer. “Eddie’s one of ours. He's not in right now, his shift starts at..” Bobby glanced at the clock, “3, if you’d like to wait.”

“Yeah, that’d be great” you smiled. The two of you headed up the stairs, he introduced you to the team. Buck, who was more than happy to show you around, Chim who was also welcoming and super funny and Hen, who you instantly liked and knew you’d get along with. “Can I get you something to drink ? A cup of coffee? Water ?” Bobby rounded the counter, “water is fine, thank you” you took a seat on one of the stools.

“So y/n, how do you know Eddie ?” Buck leant forward, elbows on the counter and his attention on you. “We grew up together” you took a sip of the water. Buck’s head tilted slightly, almost like he didn’t believe you. His brows furrowed “c’mon, there has to be more to the story than just you growing up together”

There was, but were you ready to open that back up ? To tell Eddie’s friends all about why you lost touch to begin with ?

A dry chuckle left your throat, “sure you can handle the whole story ?” you smiled at him, he nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah, I'd love to know. Eddie isn't really one to talk about his past”

Good to know somethings didn’t change.

“Take a seat, you’re in for a story” you patted the chair beside you, Buck sat and once again, his attention back on you. You started from the beginning.

El Paso, 2008.

Hot summer days didn’t even begin to explain the type of weather you were having in Texas right now. The bedroom window was open and Eddie’s back was turned to you. He had been taking a nap when you arrived, the whole point of you coming over was to help him pack up his stuff. Laying beside him, your finger traced over his shoulder, moving down to his back. Tracing shapes and drawing your own little pictures against his skin. “Mhm, Shan- stop” he mumbled as he shifted in bed.

Your heart sunk in your chest.

“Not Shan” you teased, “just me” you sat up, your back resting against the headboard. Eddie’s eyes opened slightly, squinting from the sunlight in the room. “Oh hey” he rolled onto his side, his head now on your lap and his arm tossed over. You smiled at your best friend, if this was the last memory you have with him before he leaves, that's fine.

You’d keep this day in your mind forever, but just the good parts.

“Come on sleepyhead” your fingers running through his hair. He groaned, “5 more minutes”

“You’ve been sleeping all day, mom says you gotta get up” Eddie flips onto his back, head still on your lap as he looks up at the ceiling. The room is quiet for a few moments, the only noise coming from outside through the open window. You break the silence first, “do you really have to go ?” you ask him as he gets up. “You know I do,” he sighs as he looks back at you before he pulls his bag out of the closet.

“I don’t want you to leave” you begin taking some clothes from the closet, folding them and setting them on the bed. “And you think I want to leave ?” Eddie grumbles, you could hear the annoyance in his voice.

The two of you have had this conversation countless times, honestly it was the only truthful conversation the two of you have had in the last few weeks. There was an unspoken level of love between the two of you, far more than just the typical loving your best friend goes. It was more than that but Eddie was with Shannon and he says he loves her, so who were you to go and admit your feelings now. To ruin what he had with her. It would break your heart to break his so you never said anything. Instead, you stayed quiet, telling him that you’d miss him when he left and helped him pack. The rest of the afternoon was quiet, neither of you speaking, quiet exchanges as you shifted around the room and passed things to each other. Eddie sits on edge of the bed, watching as you fold a shirt, his hand wrapping around your wrist. Humming, you go on folding until Eddie tugs on your hand, nodding towards the spot beside him.

Sitting beside him, once again, the room is silent. So silence that you hear the thoughts in Eddie’s head. “Y/n, I-” his sentence is interrupted when Sophia knocks on his door, sticking her head in the room. “Ed, Shannon’s here to see you” she pulls the door in halfway before leaving the two of you in the room. Eddie looks at you, he opens his mouth to say something but you shake your head. “Go,” you breathe, “don’t keep her waiting” giving him a small smile. “Are you sure ?” he asks, his hand on your back. You hum, “I'll be out in a minute, I just have to call my parents” Eddie nods, leaving you in his room. You lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Letting out a sigh, all the possibilities running through your mind

What if you never get to see him again ? What if he comes home a different person ? What if he doesn’t come home at all ? You couldn't leave things unsaid, you couldn't let him leave without telling him out you really felt.

Walking into the living room, Eddie sat on the recliner, Shannon on his lap. “Oh y/n” she smiled, “I didn’t know you were here” you gave her a small smile back. “Yeah, came over to help him pack” she turned back to Eddie, “why didn’t you call me? I would have came over”

Seeing them together, you couldn't go tell him how you felt now. He was happy with Shannon, they were in love.

El Paso, 2011.

Over the last 3 years, Eddie had returned home a few times. Most of his visits home had been spent with family and Shannon, you’d see him for a few hours or if you happened to stop by his parents’ place for dinner. Within the last 3 years, Eddie had also proposed to Shannon, gotten married and had a baby on the way.

Eddie called you earlier to let you know that Shannon had given birth and he now has a son, Christoper. You of course promised to come by and see him and the baby and you made good on your promise.

“Hi, I'm here for uh Shannon” your fingers tapping against the nurses bay counter

“Last name hun ?” she handed you a visitor badge and a pen, “uh, Diaz, I think ? I’m not sure if she chang-” your sentence interrupted by your best friend calling for you. “Found them” you gave the nurse a smile before heading down the hall towards Eddie.

“Y/n!” his arms stretched out, waiting for you to hug him.

“Eddie! or should I say dad ?” you gave him a hug.

God it felt good to be back in his arms.

“Congratulations on the baby,” you smiled, “you're a baby yourself, I can't believe you have a kid” you teased, giving his face a little squeeze as the two of you walked in. Eddie’s arm was over your shoulder and your arm around his waist as the two of you entered the room, Shannon’s look was enough for Eddie to let go and take a step to the side. She gave you a smile, “nice of you to come by y/n”

“Of course, hope you don’t mind”

“Oh no, of course not! You’re Eddie’s best friend”

The baby began crying, “he’s got a pair of lungs on him huh ?” you chuckled, Eddie smiled as he picked up Christoper. Fatherhood suited Eddie, from the way he picked up Chris to just the way he looked at him, he’d go to the ends of the earth and back for his son. “Do you want to hold him?” Eddie stepped towards you, Chris had settled now. “Um, yeah” taking a seat in the chair, Eddie handed Chris off to you. You smiled at the little boy in your arms, you couldn't believe that your best friend, the guy you grew up with, the guy who was barely not a kid himself, had a kid.

“Hey lil man- oh you're so cute” you cooed as Chris yawned. Looking at Eddie who was now sat on the end of the bed, “The two of you have a beautiful little boy”

El Paso, 2017.

Eddie found himself on your doorstep with Christoper. Knocking on the door, you opened it. “Hey,” your brows furrowed, not that you minded the unexpected visit but you were confused. “Come in buddy” you helped Chris inside and Eddie followed the two of you inside.

“Did you two have dinner? I could order a pizza or I could make something ?”

“Can I have ice cream ?” Chris asked you, taking a seat on the couch. You glanced at Eddie who nodded. “Vanilla or chocolate bud ?”

“Both!” his enthusiasm made you chuckle, “coming up kiddo” you smiled at Chris who was already flipping through the channels. Eddie followed you into the kitchen, the two of you on autopilot, your movements in sync, not a word being spoken. Most of your memories with Eddie have been the quiet ones, not a word between two of you, just moving around together. Eddie got the bowl of the cupboard as you got the ice cream.

“What caused the visit ?” you asked, scooping the ice cream into the bowl. Eddie gave you a look, leaving you in the kitchen for a moment to give the ice cream to Christoper. You could hear the two of them talking, Chris telling his father how his favourite show was on tv and Eddie telling him try not to spill ice cream on himself and that he'd be in the kitchen.

Eddie returned, heading straight to the fridge to get a beer. “I take it dinner didn’t go well ?” you ask, sitting on the counter. Eddie let out a chuckle, “well wasn't even in the house tonight”

“What happened ?” taking the beer from him and taking a sip of it.

“They think it's a bad idea to move across the country with a kid, that Chris needed stability and apparently- they’re the only stability he’s ever had.” Eddie groaned. You understood his frustration, you didn’t have a kid but you get what it's like to have parents who are trying to contradict your life choices.

“And you're sure you want to do this ? Move to LA?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, he looked at you. “What do you mean? Are you siding with them ?”

“No, of course not. I’m just asking if you're sure if you want to move”

“Of course I am. I need to get out of here, Chris needs a change, somewhere that doesn’t constantly remind him of his mother.” he sighed

“Eds, you know if you move you’ll be on your own. I don’t agree with your parents, you should be able to take Chris wherever you want but you won’t have the help you have here. You have your parents and me and Chris has his friends, are you sure you want to do this ?”

“Are you going to stop me ? Like you tried to stop me when I enlisted ?” he grumbled. If Chris wasn't in the house, you sure as hell would have cussed him for that. “How could you say that ? I didn’t try to stop you, I just didn’t want you to leave, which was the truth by the way.” you roll your eyes.

“Listen, I just came here for you to say bye to Chris because we're leaving tomorrow” Eddie begins walking out of the kitchen, you grab his hand. “What ? That’s it? We're going to leave things like this ? You being mad for no reason ?”

“You’re the one that doesn’t want me to move on” Eddie’s voice raised slightly

“Are you kidding me?! Did I try to stop you ?” your voice raises as well. Eddie pulls his hand from yours, Chris comes over and gives you a hug. “Bye y/n! see you soon!” he smiled at you, you looked down at the little boy, your arms wrapped around him. “See you soon kiddo” you lean down and kiss the top of his head.

You follow Eddie and Chris to the door, watching as Eddie helps Chris into the truck. Watching as he pulled out of the driveway and down the street.

----

“And that was the last time I saw him.” you sigh, Buck’s mouth hung open. “Are you serious ? He didn’t call or write or even text ?” he asked you, you shook your head. “Nope, not a word since then. He changed his number and that was that”

“Y/n?” the voice called, the voice you hadn’t heard in years. Glancing over your shoulder, there he was.

Eddie Diaz, your best friend.

He looked good, healthy. He hasn't changed besides for the shorter hair which he was pulling off rather well, it was a change from the fluffy hair he had the last time you saw him.

“What are you doing here ? How’d you find me?” Eddie asked, he was shocked to see you and you couldn't blame him. You were shocked to see him and you came looking for him.

“Uh- honestly I don’t know” you chuckled, “to which question ?” he looked over at you

“Both” you gave him a smile.

“Yeah, okay. You need to go, I have a shift” Eddie tells you. “Eddie, we don’t have any calls right now. They can stay, I don’t have a problem with it” Bobby tells him, Eddie nods. “I get that Cap, but I have a problem with it” Eddie turns to you. “You need to go” he tells you again, you didn’t want to fight with him, especially in front of his team so you nodded. Turning back towards the team, you give them a smile, “it was nice to meet all of you”

Heading down the stairs, the sound of footsteps behind you makes you stop, looking over your shoulder. Buck was behind you, “y/n wait!”

“Everything okay ?”

“Oh yeah, where are you staying ? I’ll talk to him, maybe he’ll change his mind”

Buck was sweet, his efforts were appreciated. “Do you have a pen or a piece of paper?” Buck pulled a pen out of his pocket, he couldn't find a piece of paper so he stuck his hand out for you to write on instead, you chuckled. Writing down the address and your number, you hand the pen back to Buck.

“That’s the address and my number. The number’s for Eddie or for you if he doesn’t want it” you smile at him, Buck’s cheeks got red. Poor guy was flustered which made you smile, at least your charms still worked on someone. “Seriously though, thank you Buck. It’s nice to know Eddie has people that care about him” Buck gives you a smile, watching as you watch out of the station.

Buck wasn’t the only one who watched you walk out, Eddie did too, from the balcony. The topic of you and your visit was dropped. No one asked any question or said a word. The day went on as a normal shift.

----

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doctorstethoscope · 3 years

Text

The Right Chapter 24 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Happy Saturday my loves! A little fluff/angst double whammy for your afternoon :)

contains: grouchy aaron, food mention, description of anxiety, canon-typical description of murder

wordcount: 2.4k

“I seem to remember you being the one lecturing me about the bureau’s generous sick leave policy not all that long ago,” You told Aaron as you gently shoved him back into bed three days after he’d broken his leg.

“I also recall that in that situation, you were the one who was injured,” Aaron grumbles, and you roll your eyes.

“Yes, and you stayed home to take care of me. Now, I’m returning the favor,” you reminded him.

“I’m not going to get a brain bleed, I just need the leg to heal. You don’t need to stay with me all day while I sit in bed.” He argues.

“You’re right, but I think we both know that if I wasn’t here, you wouldn’t stay in bed, and seeing as how you can’t get as far as the bathroom without my help, that might present a problem.” You chastise him. “I’m not coming home to you bleeding out in the hallway because you fell over and couldn’t help yourself.”

“You make me sound like I’m eighty years old.” he scoffed.

“Well, if you agree to wear a life alert, maybe I’ll go back to work.” You said, throwing your head against the pillows. There’s a few moments of silence, punctuated by Aaron’s deep sigh.

“I’m glad you’re here. Sorry I’m being grumpy.” He apologized. “I just don’t want you to have to take care of me.”

“You’re injured and in pain. You’re allowed to be grumpy,” you told him. “And I plan on taking care of you for the rest of my life, so you should start to get used to it.”

“Can I hold you for a little while? You don’t have to go near my leg,” he says, knowing you’ve been extra-gentle to avoid his injury since you’ve been home together. “You could put your head on my chest and I could just… hold you,” Aaron asks shyly, and your heart melts.

“Of course, baby.” you say, snuggling your torso in close, leaning your head against his pec and resisting the urge to toss your legs over his. “See? Sick leave isn’t all that bad,” you tease him.

“No, I suppose not,” he smiles, rubbing an arm up and down your back.

“Jack is so excited to have you home.” You comment.

“Not that it matters, I can’t even take him to the park or ride a bike with him.” Aaron grouses.

“Aaron, he’s over the moon just to have time to spend with you. He could sit here in bed with you watching Toy Story on a loop for the next six weeks and I’m sure he’d tell you it was the best month and a half of his life.”

“A month and a half… I’m gonna go crazy.” Aarom remarks, more to himself than to you.

“You’re gonna have to take up a hobby. Maybe knitting,” you snort, and Aaron smiles.

“Yeah, or braiding or something,” he agrees offhandedly.

“Braiding?” You ask.

“Oh, I mean, or maybe I could get back into Chess, finally get good enough to beat Spencer--”

“No, no, back up, what made you bring up braiding?”

“Uh… it’s just… something I’ve been thinking about in case we ever, you know, made a decision, and felt like maybe---”

“Aaron, spit it out,” you laughed.

“Just… if we had kids, or a daughter, I would want to be able to do her hair. Because if you’re not home, I don’t want to be the dad that doesn’t know how to do his daughter’s hair.” He confesses, the embarrassment clear in his tone. You place a kiss to his chest.

“You are a good man, Aaron Hotchner.”

“I’m glad you think so, anyways.”

“Alright, you’re getting grumpy and self-deprecating, which is a bad combo. You need a nap.” You instruct him teasingly.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, tightening his hold on you just slightly.

“Of course, love. You go ahead and rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

You went back to work a little over a week later, when Aaron was mostly off of his pain meds, and able to get himself around the apartment without any assistance. You were still staying there when you weren’t on a case, and found yourself grateful that you’d decided to sign a month-to-month lease-- you weren’t sure what the point was of keeping up the pretense of separate places anymore. But, then again, with Aaron injured, now probably wasn’t the best time for a move. You're working through a few scenarios in your head when Spencer interrupts your train of thought.

“How’s Hotch feeling?” He asks as you and the rest of the team board the jet to head home after a case.

“He’s doing better,” you tell him. “The pain isn’t bothering him as much and he’s getting a little bit of his range of motion back. I’m still trying my best to keep him in bed, but I’m sure you can imagine how well that’s going,” you tell him with a smile.

“Well, tell him I can’t wait to have him back. I hate all this paperwork,” Morgan cuts in with a playful chuckle, and you shove at his shoulder.

“I’m trying to keep him home, Derek. Besides, we all know that Spencer is doing most of the paperwork for you,” you called him out, and Emily and JJ laughed.

“He’s just so fast,” Morgan defends himself, and now everyone is laughing.

“We do want him back,” Emily tells you. “But not until he’s good and ready. And then, you know, maybe even a few weeks after that. Wouldn’t kill him to take a vacation.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” JJ smirks.

“Please, he’s already itching to get back to work. I think he’d leave me if I asked for a vacation.” You tell Emily.

“No, if you asked for a vacation he’d buy a plane ticket in an instant. And he’d bring his work phone and his computer to the beach and try to solve a murder from underneath a palm tree,” Morgan argued playfully.

“Sometimes when we take a case somewhere warm, I stand in the parking lot for five minutes and face the sun. And if you close your eyes, it’s almost like a vacation.” You say.

“Weren’t you literally taken hostage the last time you did that?” Spencer asks, and you roll your eyes goodnaturedly.

“Well, there goes my tropical getaway,” you tease.

With Morgan as acting unit chief, paperwork deadlines are considerably more flexible, which is to say nonexistent. Strauss would probably have a field day when she went to review the case file, but that wasn’t your problem. And, quite frankly, as you rushed to your car to get home to your boys, you couldn’t care less.

When you swing the door open, you interrupt a very spirited game of Connect Four between Jack and Aaron. You notice that Aaron has at least three opportunities to make a winning move, all of which he ignores in favor of allowing Jack to push his chips in at random.

“You’re home!” Jack exclaims when he sees you, scrambling across the living room and wordlessly commanding to be held by you.

You hoist him up onto your hip, not without difficulty. He was getting big, and it made you a little sad. It strikes you that you won’t be able to do this forever, wrap him up in your arms and make him feel small and safe and secure. You squeeze him tighter. “Were you good for your daddy while I was gone?”

“Uh-huh.” He nods, pulling back to look at you and running the collar of your shirt in between his thumb and forefinger absentmindedly.

“And was Daddy good? He stayed off of his booboo leg?” You asked the only Hotchner who would give you a truthful answer.

“Daddy was good.” Jack confirms, and you narrow your eyes skeptically.

“Did he bribe you to say that? Ice cream for breakfast, or a new comic book?” You ask.

“No. We watched Toy Story and I learned checkers. I had cereal for breakfast, not ice cream.” He tells you, and you relent.

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun, bug.” You say, putting him down and crossing the living room to sit next to Aaron on the couch, who leaned over to press a kiss to the top of your head and placed a hand in your lap.

“I did. But I missed you.” Jack tells you, climbing onto the couch next to you.

“He’s not the only one,” Aaron whispers, pressing another kiss to your hair.

“I missed you both, very very much,” you tell them, snuggling closer into Aaron and placing a hand in Jack’s hair.

“We had pasta for dinner. I saved you a plate,” Aaron tells you.

“Thank you, baby.” You tell him. “But, I’m pretty sure it’s past somebody’s bedtime…” You mention, and Jack pouts immediately.

“I told him he could stay up until you got home, but he promised he wasn’t going to fight when it was time for bed, right buddy?” Aaron reminds his son.

“Come on, sweet boy. I’ll tuck you in,” You tell him, pecking Aaron’s lips briefly before scooping Jack up off of the sofa and bringing him to his bed, tucking him in with extra stories and kisses to make up for the nights you missed while you were gone.

When you come back into the kitchen, Aaron has heated up the leftover pasta and is waiting for you at the counter.

“You didn’t have to get up, I would have done that,” you tell Aaron, knowing full well that he’d never actually listen.

“How was the case?” He asks as you settle in and start to eat.

“It wasn’t too bad. We got the guy to surrender without hurting any of the hostages. A few of them were in pretty rough shape, but they should all recover.” you tell him in between bites.

“And the team? Everyone’s doing okay?”

“We’re all good, babe. JJ’s getting really good at the geographic profile, but I think it annoys her to stay at the station when we’re all out.”

“She’s pregnant. It’s not worth the risk,” Aaron reminds you.

“I know, honey, but it’s still annoying. It’s kind of like when you break your leg and you’re not allowed to go to work but you still have to hear all about it from your girlfriend,” you point out, and he smirks at you.

“Morgan’s doing okay? The field agents aren’t giving him any trouble?”

“Morgan can handle himself just fine against any cocky field agent. You don’t need to worry about us, sweetheart. We’re okay. You trained us up good,” you smiled at him, and he blushed, rolling his eyes at you. “We want you back, but we want you back healthy,” you tell him.

“Well, the doctor cleared me to start PT in two weeks. So hopefully I’ll be back sooner rather than later,” Aaron tells you.

“That's great news! So the cast is coming off soon?” You ask.

“Yeah, he wants to see me again to take it off and give me the final go-ahead for PT.”

“And you’re gonna take it easy at PT, because you know you can’t rush recovery, right?” You remind him.

“Yes, mom,” he teases you with a smile.

“It’s my turn to fret over you. Karma’s a bitch,” you smile at him as you get up to take his plate to the dishwasher. As you do so, his phone rings.

“Hotchner,” he says into the receiver. “Woah, woah. Slow down, please. Are you okay?” Aaron says, and you turn around immediately, concerned. “Garcia, hold on. I’m going to put you on speaker. Yeah, she’s home. She’s here with me.” Aaron says, his eyes flicking over to you as he pulls the phone away from his ear and adjusts the volume.

“Okay, so, I have been keeping an eye on Josh’s arrest record, awaiting his arraignment and his court dates so that we could throw a big ‘Josh is in prison for life party,’” she tells you, spitting out information a mile a minute. “There hadn’t been any movement for a few days, and I couldn’t figure out why, but I decided to check one more time before I went to bed tonight, and Josh’s dealer posted bail for him four days ago.”

“What?” You say. You heard her, heard every word she said in perfect clarity. But there had to be a mistake, right?

“Garcia, what do you have on the dealer? What has Josh been doing for the past four days?” Aaron asks, and you hear him, but you also… don’t. Everything sounds like you have cotton stuck inside your ears, or like you’re underwater. This couldn’t really be happening, could it?

“That’s a trigger,” you mumble quietly, and you think that Aaron doesn’t hear you, he’s so focused on his conversation with Garcia that you try hopelessly to follow. He turns to you, after a moment, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

“What did you say, doll?” He asks you.

“That’s a trigger. You know, how we say that serial killers have triggers that make them start killing people. This is probably a trigger to start killing,” you say, staring at a spot of dirt on the tile. Jack must have tracked it on his cleats, and Aaron couldn’t mop with his injury. You should really clean that. You needed to get the dirt off the floor. Mop, mop, where did Aaron keep the mop? You pulled it out of the closet and were headed for the stain when you felt Aaron’s hands come to rest on your shoulders, blocking your path.

“Hon, what are you doing?’ He asks, trying to make eye contact with you, which you avoided.

“The floor needs to be mopped.” You answer, emotionless.

“Why don’t you come sit down, the floor can wait,” he says, trying to guide you towards the sofa.

“Aaron, your knee! Go sit. Go, go. I just need to get the floor clean. Please just go sit and I can fix it. It’s okay. I got it.” You got more and more worked up as you continued to stare at the dirt, watching the stain grow as your vision blurred, as if the dirt were mocking you.

“Hey, hey hey. Where’d you go, angel? Come back here with me, love. You’re gonna be okay. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He says, wrapping his arms around you.

You’d never wished more that you believed him.

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