#but her being locked out of the loop and two steps behind everyone else is kind of... annoying. like alana!!! girl!!!! get with it!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

Good little wife

Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .

Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 8k

“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”

You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.

Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.

You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.

“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”

“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.

“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.

You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.

But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.

After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.

All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.

You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.

Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.

“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.

You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...

But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.

Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”

“I will,” Andy smiled.

You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.

“I do,” since you had no other choice.

“I do,” he repeated.

You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.

The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.

Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.

Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.

You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.

And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.

You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.

Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.

You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.

With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”

“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.

“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”

“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.

“What?”

“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”

“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.”

“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.

You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.

He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.

“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.

“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”

You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”

“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.

“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you frowned.

He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”

You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...

“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.

“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?

He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.

You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.

No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice

“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.

Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.

And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.

For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.

You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.

But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.

You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.

With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.

So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.

After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.

Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.

Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.

You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.

“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.

He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.

“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.

“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.

He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.

He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.

But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.

“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”

“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.

Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?

“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.

“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.

He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.

You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.

While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.

Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...

And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...

“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.

“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.

You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”

“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.

Something was horribly wrong.

Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.

He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.

He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.

Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was

It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.

He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.

“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.

Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.

But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.

He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.

You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”

“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.

“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”

You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”

He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”

“What difference does it make?” you huffed.

“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.

“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”

“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.

“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.

“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”

He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.

“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”

You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”

He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.

While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.

You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.

He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.

He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.

Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.

He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”

“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.

“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.

And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.

“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.

“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.

You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”

“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.

You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.

You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.

He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.

“You like it, honey?” he asked.

You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”

Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”

“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him

He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.

“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.

“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.

“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”

“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.

He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.

“Mmm... I can’t tell...”

“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.

You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.

You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.

Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”

“What?”

“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.

“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.

“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.

He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.

You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.

“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.

You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.

“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.

His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.

He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.

One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.

“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”

You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.

“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.

He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.

He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.

“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”

You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.

“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.

Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.

You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”

It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.

“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.

“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”

“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.

He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

“No...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.

You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.

His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.

Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.

You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.

You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.

“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.

He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.

“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”

He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.

“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”

“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.

He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.

You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.

Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.

Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.

He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”

Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.

You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.

He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered.

“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.

“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.

You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”

He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”

You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.

“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.

You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.

“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”

He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”

“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.

“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.

“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.

He’d make you take it.

You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”

You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”

“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”

You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”

“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”

“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.

You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.

“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.

“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”

You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.

“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”

All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.

He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.

But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.

Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.

You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.

“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”

You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”

His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...

“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.

“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.

“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.

“I love you,” you beamed up at him.

“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”

He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.

He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.

His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.

Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.

“It hurts!” you screamed.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.

“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,

A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.

Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.

You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”

“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”

You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.

“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”

You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.

He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”

You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.

“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.

“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.

“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...

“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”

You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.

Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.

“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.

He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”

He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.

He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.

“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.

“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.

You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.

“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”

“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”

“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.

You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.

You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.

His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.

His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.

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#happyhoelidays2020 #andy barber x oc #andy barber x y/n #steve rogers x reader #andy barber x reader #andy x reader #chris evans x reader #defending jacob fanfic #mob!andy barber

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Toxic Taste

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] It's a perfect day for a picnic with your friends. Well, it seems like one until you suddenly fall very ill.

Warnings: very minor cursing

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: this was requested by @amintyworld! everyone just loves protective dream, don’t they? i had fun exploring this concept, and i hope you enjoy!

You hummed, fixing your hair in the mirror before giving yourself one last once over, nodding to yourself. Looks good. Just then, you heard the door swing open behind you, creaking with a quiet groan. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Hey, are you ready to go?”

Whirling around, your hand quickly grabbed the woven basket on the table beside you as you flashed Clay a bright grin, bounding over to his side with a skip in your step. “I am, now.”

Without having to say another word, he lifted his arm toward you, and you looped yours through his, your fingers tightening around the basket handle. The two of you stepped outside together, locking the door behind you before making your way down the oak path. Above you, only a few clouds dotted the cerulean blue sky, drifting along the gentle spring breeze.

It really was a perfect day for a picnic.

Turning, you cast a curious glance over at Clay. “Are you excited to see what everyone brought?”

He bobbed his head, his lips quirking up into a wicked grin. “Yeah—I can’t wait to make fun of whatever George made.”

You frowned, shooting him an unimpressed look. “George is a good chef in his own right,” you chided.

His smile widened, reaching over to gently tap your nose. “Yeah, but you’re the best.” He patted your basket cover, his viridian gaze swirling with mirth. “They’re gonna love your cookies.”

You rolled your eyes at him, snorting, but he didn’t miss the way your lips twitched. “You just say that because you’re my boyfriend.”

He hummed. “Just because I’m biased doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

You raised your brows at him. “Oh? So you admit that you’re biased?”

Leaning over, he brushed his lips against yours in a peck, pulling back with a dazzling grin. “Of course,” he murmured in that soft tone that made your cheeks grow hot, “without a doubt.”

You swallowed, trying to calm your frantically beating heart. “You’re so cheesy,” you said, adopting a passive tone, “no more dilly-dallying, now. We have a picnic to get to.”

He sent you a crooked smile. “Okay, okay.” His eyes flashed. “I’ll race you.”

“Huh, wh—?”

Before you could even process what was happening, he had suddenly bolted, his arm leaving yours. Almost immediately, your body yearned for the warmth of his pressed against yours, and you found yourself stumbling after him.

“Wait, Clay!” you called after him, your basket bouncing beside you as you watched him crest over the grassy hill. “That’s not fair! Get back here!”

He only turned to shoot you a goofy grin, laughter bubbling on his lips as he disappeared from view, his hoodie fading to nothing more than a tiny speck of green among the swaying blades of grass. You couldn’t stop the laughter from spilling from your lips, bursting from your chest like fireworks.

“You are so dead when I catch up to you!”

He called back over the horizon. “If you ever!”

Your grin only grew wider.

Oh, he was so dead.

“Your bread sucks.”

You gasped, lightly smacking Clay’s chest. “Clay!” Whipping around, you sent George an earnest grin. “George, I think your bread is wonderful.”

Beside you, Tommy made a face, setting his slice down on his plate with a disgusted glance. “Nah, I agree with Big D. This bread is pretty shit.”

Now, it was Wilbur’s turn to gasp. “Tommy!”

Tommy’s brows knit together as he scowled. “What? I’m just telling the truth.”

George let out a long groan, his glasses threatening to slide off the crown of his head as he hung his face in his hands. “I am never baking, again.”

In an instant, Niki was on her feet, flailing her arms. “No, no, no! Don’t say that—baking can be a lot of fun!” She paused for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “I can teach you a new sourdough recipe, if you’d like!”

George lifted his head, blinking at her with wide, hopeful eyes. “You would?”

She nodded, a bright smile tugging at her lips. “Of course!”

Sapnap snorted, taking another bite of steak. “I can’t believe you have to learn from someone else how to make good bread.”

George groaned again, glowering at his supposed best friend. “Why is everyone ganging up on me, today?”

Clay was quick to butt in. “Haven’t you heard? It’s National Be Mean to George Day.”

Tubbo blinked, confusion clouding his features. “That’s not a real holi—” He paused, then gasped. “Oh, wait.” He grinned. “Never mind.”

George’s glare only intensified, and he sighed. “Niki, forget it.”

While Niki practically shriveled into a puddle, Wilbur spoke up, offering him a reassuring smile. “Well, I think your bread is delicious, George. Genuinely.”

George flashed him a thankful grin, adjusting the glasses on his head. “Thank you, Wilbur.”

Letting out another laugh, you leaned back against Clay’s side, his arm firmly wrapped around your waist as you snuggled against him. Your friends were always up to weird antics, and while you didn’t necessarily agree with their actions, you were willing to indulge in them, if only to see what would happen next. In front of you, you gingerly picked up the half-eaten fish skewer from your plate, lifting it to your lips as you took another bite. It was sweet, and vaguely tasted like saltwater, but you liked it. It was unique, in its own weird way.

You watched as Clay reached across the patterned blanket for the plate of cookies you had brought, gingerly picking one up. Glancing up at him, you opened your mouth. “Do you actually think George’s bread is bad?” you asked softly. “Or are you just trying to rile him up?”

He paused, the cookie halfway to his mouth, then shrugged, biting in. “It’s a bit of both. It isn’t half-bad, I guess.” He shot you a cheeky wink. “Yours is still better, though.”

You groaned, feeling your face grow warm. “Stop that.”

He tilted his head at you, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he chewed. “Stop what?” he said, leaning in close to you. “Being honest?”

You did your best to send him a glare, but you knew it was half-hearted at best. “Yes.”

His grin widened, his eyes glimmering with affectionate arrogance. “Never.”

As his eyes locked onto yours, you felt your glare melt away. With a small hum, he dipped his head to yours, pressing his mouth to yours with a smile. His tongue lapped at your lips, and you grinned back. He tasted like chocolate chips and sunshine. You pulled back with a quiet gasp, your cheeks burned with heat as his emerald eyes bore into yours, crinkling at the corners.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered for you and you alone.

Your heart swelled. “I love you, too.”

He stared at you for a moment longer, then pressed his forehead against yours, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Also,” he added, “you taste like fish.”

You sent him a horrified look before smacking his arm again, your heart flipping as he wheezed at your reaction. “S-Shut up!”

He only wheezed harder in response, and despite your embarrassment, you felt a smile tugging on your lips. That was the thing about Clay that got you every time—as much as he would tease you and make your heart go wild in your chest, you knew he meant every single thing he told you. He was just so sincere like that, and it made you want to sink straight into him.

God, you were so, so in love.

Just then, a howl pulled you away from your attack on Clay. You turned to see Quackity, his mouth agape as he pointed at Niki, a bewildered look plastered to her face. “Niki!” he screamed. “You brought cake?”

She blinked, stunned for only a moment before she smiled, nodding. “Yeah! It’s homemade and has vanilla frosting.”

Quackity immediately sank down to one knee, one hand outstretched toward her as he said dramatically, “Marry me.”

Niki’s smile didn’t falter for even a second. “No thanks.”

Quackity’s arm dropped, and he let out a whine. “Damn, you didn’t have to say it so quickly.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he sat down with a pout. “You could have at least pretended to think about it.”

You all burst into laughter, giggling as Niki simply set her cake down on the blanket next to George’s bread. Wilbur had brought three watermelons—how he carted them over by himself, you had no idea—while Tommy brought pork chops. Tubbo had also caught fish for the occasion while Sapnap packed steak. Meanwhile, Quackity had carried a sack of apples over to the picnic, but you had a feeling he may or may not have stolen them, since he didn’t exactly own an apple orchard of his own.

You opened your mouth to ask for a slice of Niki’s cake when you suddenly froze, a bolt of what felt like lightning tingling up your spine. Your head spun, and you could have sworn your vision darkened at the edges. An uneasy pit grew in your stomach, and you frowned. Why do I feel so... strange?

Pushing yourself forward slightly, you tried to sit up straight, only to feel your arms wobble before you crashed back into Clay’s side once more. In a flash, his arms were around you, holding you steady as his green eyes peered down at yours.

“Hey,” he said, his tone growing serious, “are you okay?” He wrinkled his brow. “You look a little off.”

You blinked, feeling your stomach churn with uneasiness. “I’m, um—I feel kind of sick.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, Clay was on his feet, stretching his arm out to you. “Here, let me help you up.”

You slipped your hand into his, doing your best to hang on tight as he tugged you upward. You expected to simply stand on your own two feet just as you would in any other situation, but the moment you were up, you suddenly felt your knees buckle beneath you, your legs going numb. You gasped as your feet went flying out under you, your fingers digging onto Clay’s palm.

“Clay—!”

With a whirl, his arms held you to his chest, your sides shaking. A rush of anxiety rolled through you, and you looked down, desperately trying to move your foot, only to find that you couldn’t. It remained as still as a rock, and you wanted to cry.

“[Y/N],” Clay breathed, his hand on your face as he supported your weight with his other arm, “what’s wrong?” His eyes desperately searched yours for any clue as to what was happening, but all you could manage was a broken, choked whisper.

“Clay, I—” You swallowed, your hands trembling around his arm while something stung at the back of your eyes. “I can’t move my legs.”

He froze, his voice dropping to a deadly low whisper. “You what?”

You shook your head, hanging onto him for dear life. The spinning had gotten worse now, and you felt sicker and sicker by the second. “I-I don’t know, I don’t feel good and something’s wrong and—Clay,” you breathed, tears welling up in your eyes, “I’m scared.” Your heart pounded in your chest, but for all the wrong reasons. “Am I going to die?”

His gaze hardened, filling with determination as his hold around you tightened. “No,” he said without even an inkling of doubt, “you’re not.”

Before you could react, he suddenly swung one arm beneath your numb legs, easily hoisting you up so that you were carefully pressed against his chest. You gasped as your friends’ eyes landed on you, their faces full of worry as your head lolled against Clay’s shoulder.

“Everyone,” he said, his voice booming across the field, “there’s something wrong with the food.” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t eat it.”

He turned his head, dipping his head toward George as he said, “George, I need you to get me as many regeneration potions and golden apples as you can, ASAP.”

George was on his feet as fast as he could, already turning on his heel. “I’m on it,” he shouted as he took off, already booking it down the hill.

Finally, Tubbo spoke up, asking the one question that had been on everyone’s mind. “Dream, what’s going on?”

Clay’s eyes darkened, and you could just barely feel his hands tighten around you while your vision swam.

“[Y/N]’s been poisoned.”

Wilbur gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god.”

Sapnap whipped his head around, gazing at the once serene picnic blanket with sheer terror. “What the fu—”

Suddenly, your hand shot up to grip Clay’s collar, his eyes immediately darting to yours. You gasped, your head absolutely throbbing as your heart rammed against your rib cage all too quickly. You opened your mouth, your spit tasting like salt and ash.

“Clay, I—”

The words died in your mouth as the world went dark, enveloping you in cold darkness.

You awoke with a start, bolting upright as you gasped, the cool air flooding your aching lungs. Immediately, you felt your stomach churn in retaliation, and your skull practically screamed at you to lie back down again. Slamming a hand over your eye, you felt the spinning of your head slowly fade away. Disoriented and dizzy, the blurriness of your vision began to lift as you blinked, taking in the sight of the room around you.

You didn’t recognize the windowsill at your side or the mattress you were lying on. The closed door stared back at you as your gaze swept over it, almost as if it knew you were confused. Not even the sheets looked familiar.

Where... am I?

You swallowed, something sharp and uneasy prickling up your spine.

What happened?

Your eyelids fluttered shut, and you tried to recall the events that had led you up to this moment.

You remembered... cookies. And a picnic. Clay’s hand in yours. There was food, and laughter. Then suddenly, you were queasy. Sick. Something wasn’t right. Then... nothing.

You blanched. Did I pass out?

Just then, you heard the door click, the hinges swinging open with a creak. Your eyes flew open and your breath hitched in your throat, and you turned, your fingers curling tighter into the sheets. Your eyes went wide as Clay walked in, one hand on the handle and the other holding an apple. The moment his eyes met yours, he froze.

“Clay?” you whispered, your voice sounding hoarse.

The apple dropped to the ground.

In an instant, he was in front of you with his hands on your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. His emerald eyes bore straight into yours with an intensity that sent your heart reeling. The words flew from his mouth in a flurry, his gaze never leaving yours.

“How are you feeling? Can you hear me? Is everything feeling alrig—”

“Woah, woah,” you said, waving your hand to cue him to stop, “what happened?”

His fingers trembled against your cheeks, and you could have sworn his eyes flashed with something wet. “[Y/N], oh, I’m—” He swallowed, his neck bobbing as he sent you a grateful smile. “I’m just so glad that you’re here.”

His hands pulled away from your face as he stood upright once more, heading for the open door. “Here, I’ll be back in a second.”

You raised your hand toward him, opening your mouth to say something, but he was already gone, having disappeared down the hall in a flash. Blinking, you sat stunned and even more confused than before, left only to wait and hope for an explanation once he returned.

Hardly even two minutes passed before you heard the rumbling of footsteps racing toward the open door. You squeaked when a series of faces filled the room, their cheeks red and chests heaving as they caught their breath. Clay immediately shuffled back to your side, slipping into the space on the bed next to you before grabbing your hand, squeezing.

“[Y/N]!” Niki cried, her eyes filled with panic. “Are you okay?”

Beside her, Tubbo’s hands shook at his side. “We only just heard from Dream that you were awake.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, your mind still hazy with everything that had just happened. Struggling to come up with an answer, you found yourself blurting the first words that came to mind. “How long has it been?”

You saw George shoot Sapnap a look, shrugging his shoulders before glancing back at you. “Uh, like, half a day.”

You shot forward, gaping. “Half a day?!”

Tommy flashed you a bright grin, leaning against Tubbo’s shoulder with a teasing look. “Yeah, you should have seen Dream run around! He spoon fed you regeneration potions and probably even read three whole fuckin’ libraries’ worth of books on poison antidotes while you wer—”

A hand suddenly smacked into Tommy’s skull, and he yelped. Behind him, Wilbur scowled. “Tommy!” he scolded. There was a soft giggle, then Wilbur whirled, his eyes narrowing. “And Quackity.” The giggles stopped. “Don’t think I didn’t see you laughing. This is serious.”

There was a slight pause. “Okay, but it is funn—”

“[Y/N],” Clay suddenly said, cutting Tommy off as his hand squeezed yours.

You blinked, trying to ignore how low his voice sounded right about now. “Y-Yeah?”

He cocked his head at you, gesturing to the sheets covering your lower half. “Can you move your legs?”

“Um...” Lifting an arm, you flung the sheets off of you, carefully shifting your leg back and forth. “Y-Yeah. I’m still feeling kind of funny, though.” You wrinkled your nose. “I’m not sure if I can stand, yet.”

He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he ran a hand through his hair. “Damn. I had a feeling this would happen, but I still wished it wouldn’t.”

Quackity took a step forward, his hand outstretched toward you. “Here, [Y/N], try—”

A snarl ripped itself out of Clay’s throat, and his shout echoed off the walls. “Don’t touch them!”

A tense silence immediately fell over the room, and Quackity back-pedalled, pulling his hand back as if he had burned it on hot coal. You watched as a pang of guilt shot across Clay’s face before he sighed. “Sorry, I mean—” He shook his head, lowering his head. “Fuck.”

Sapnap sent him a small smile, sincere and reassuring. “Hey, man,” he said softly, “it’s alright. We get it. You’re stressed. I’d react the same way if I was in your position.”

Clay raised his chin a little, his lips quirking. “Thanks, Sap.”

Wilbur suddenly spoke up, his eyes trained on you. “Dream, I think we still have some questions we should ask.”

Clay blinked, then nodded. “Right, thanks, Wilbur.” Clearing his throat, he turned to face you head on.” Do you still remember the picnic?” When you nodded, he continued. “Did anything out of the ordinary happen?”

You paused, then shook your head. “Not that I can remember. I woke up, packed up a basket, walked over to the field with you, ate with everyone, then...” You gestured vaguely. “Well, y’know.”

His gaze hardened. “What did you eat?”

You thought for a moment. “Um, I ate an apple, and I had two slices of George’s bread.” You paused again, furrowing your brows. Then, your eyes lit up. “Oh, and I also ate some of the fish.”

Clay stared at you. “Fish?” he parroted.

You bobbed your head, humming. “Yeah. That’s about as much as I remember.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and you could practically see the gears turning in Clay’s head. “Did anyone else here eat the fish?” he finally said after a while.

Your friends cast curious looks at one another before George raised his hand, shaking his head. “No.” He jutted his head toward you. “[Y/N] was the first and only person to, I believe.”

Clay pursed his lips. “Tubbo.”

Tubbo jumped, looking panicked and shaky as he stammered out, “Y-Yes, Dream?”

Clay narrowed his eyes. “Who exactly brought the fish?”

Tubbo gulped. “Uh, it, um, ah—” He inhaled sharply at the look on Clay’s face, then sighed. “I did, Dream.”

For a moment, it was quiet. Then, Clay sighed, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Oh, it all makes sense now.”

Now, it was Tommy’s turn to speak, his expression clouded with confusion. “How the fuck does that make this make any more sense than it did before?”

Clay suddenly slipped his hand out of yours, your palm meeting nothing as he rose to his full height. You felt the air grow cold.

“Tubbo,” he said slowly, casually—almost too casually. A crooked, charming smile spread across his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “What kind of fish was it?”

Tubbo lowered his gaze to the ground. “Pufferfish,” he said in a tiny whisper.

Tommy stared. “Oh.” Understanding flickered across his face before being replaced by horror. “Oh.”

Clay took a step forward, the grin never leaving his face. “Tubbo—”

Your hand shot forward, grabbing onto his wrist before he could take another step. His arm was tense underneath your touch, but he stopped the moment your skin met his. “Clay,” you said quickly, your words rushed and hurried, “stop, please.”

He turned, looking back at you over his shoulder. You shook your head at him. “I’m sure it was an accident. Tubbo would never poison anyone deliberately, let alone me.”

You heard a soft hiccup, then Tubbo spoke. “I-I wouldn’t, I swear it! I just... I thought cooking pufferfish would make them less toxic for other people.”

Niki raised her hand, her face pleading as her eyes darted back and forth between Dream and Tubbo. “I can vouch for him, and not just because we’re friends. He might have built up his own tolerance for pufferfish poison, but I don’t think he realized just how bad it could turn out to be.”

Tubbo nodded frantically, looking smaller than ever as he finally lifted his head. “Seriously, Dream, I would never do it intentionally, I promise.” He turned to look at you, his sides shaking as your gaze met his.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N],” he whispered, honesty and desperation soaking into every syllable he spoke, “I really am.”

Your face softened immediately, and you could only hope he knew how sincere you were being. “I forgive you, Tubbo.” Your eyes flit to the man in front of you. “Do you, Clay?”

You couldn’t see his expression from where you were sitting, but the look of terror on Tubbo’s face said it all. “Yes,” he said, “but only because you do.”

Your grip around his wrist tightened. “Clay, I’m positive. Please, just let it be.” You tugged a little, and he turned, watching as you kicked your legs at him with a small smile. “I’m all better now, see?”

The coldness in his gaze finally seemed to melt, and he shook his head at you, his lips twitching. “Fine.” Walking back over to you, you tucked your legs back against you as he sat on the bed, levelling a glare at the crowd gathered in front of you. “Now everyone, get out.”

There was a whistle. “Jeez, aggressive mu—”

“Tommy,” Wilbur said again, already tugging at the blond’s collar as he tread toward the hall, “an angry Dream is not someone you want to mess with.”

Tommy glowered as everyone filed out of the room, his voice fading away as they disappeared outside. “Ugh, you are such a killjo—”

Sapnap sent you a friendly smile as his hand wrapped around the door handle. “I hope you feel better soon, [Y/N].”

You returned his grin with a grateful look. “Thanks, Sapnap.”

With one last wave, he pulled the door shut, leaving you alone with Clay. Shifting forward slightly, you swung your legs off the bed, nudging him with your side. “Clay?” you murmured, your eyes searching his face. It was at times like this he was easier to read.

With a sigh, he hung his head in his hands, the vein in his neck bulging out. “God, I know he means well, but I still kind of want to wring Tubbo’s neck, right now.”

You leaned against him, pressing your cheek to his bicep. “Clay, don’t say that.”

He lifted his head, growling. “I know, I know! It’s just—”

He bit his lip, then sighed again, his arm reaching up to pull you onto his lap. Shifting you around so that you were facing him, his leaned his forehead against yours, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“You don’t know how scared I was,” he whispered, sincere and true. “I never want to lose you. Ever.”

Heat crawled up your neck, and your head spun, but not for the same reasons as before. “C-Clay.”

His hand stroked along your back. “It’s the truth, y’know? I’d never lie to you, and I mean every word.” Leaning upward, he pressed his lips to your forehead as he spoke, the words shaking against your skin. “You mean more to me than you may ever know.”

You hummed, your heart blossoming in your chest. “Even if that’s the case,” you said, “you don’t need to be so upset, anymore.” You felt his lips leave your forehead, and you peered up at him through your lashes. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

You leaned back in his arms, reaching up to brush your fingertips over his freckles. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you watched him melt a little at the gesture. “Now,” you said, quiet yet firm, “promise me you won’t be mad at Tubbo the next time you see him.”

He blinked. “W-What?”

You pursed your lips. “Clay.”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright. I promise.” A sly grin slipped onto his face. “But only if...”

You raised a brow at him. “Only if...?”

You half-wanted to smack the stupid grin off his stupidly perfect face. “Only if you give me a kiss.”

You giggled, slipping your arms over his shoulder and around his neck. He always knew how to make you laugh, even at serious times like this. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his in a sweet kiss. He still tasted like freshly squeezed lemonade, gleaming in the light of the sweet summer sun. You felt him smile against you, and you pulled away mirroring his expression.

“There,” you whispered, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Does that seal the deal?”

He hummed, tilting his head at you while mischief danced in his eyes. “Maybe you should do it again just to make sure.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t stop the giddy smile from spreading across your face.

Your picnic may have been a disaster, but you wouldn’t mind ending your days wrapped in Clay’s arms more often.

1K notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

It’s Been Too Long

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: Alright Shinobu Community, take a fuckin’ sip babes. It’s kind of a long one. My brain was like, friends to enemies to friends to lovers? To which I replied, this is going to be simultaneously too long and too short. I love me some slow burn but also I can’t justify putting that much time into something like this lol. While writing this I learned that one becomes a Hashira by killing a demon moon OR killing at least fifty demons. I didn't know that before, but I was in too deep to fix things. Y’all are a Kinoe rank that probably should be a Hashira given how much slaying you’ve done, sorry! As far as warnings go, I think we’re good. Unless fighting and misunderstandings aren’t your thing. It’ll all be better in the end though! Word Count: 15,088

The estate was dark and bleak. It had rained for nearly a week straight, the patter of water against the solid structure of the tiled roof was a near constant companion to the blank static of despair that clouded everyone’s minds.

Kochou Kanae had died of lethal injuries bequeathed to her by a high ranking demon who had left her to bleed out as the sun made its appearance. Perhaps if it had risen even just a few minutes prior, she could have evaded such a cruel fate.

Shinobu had found her of course, the world is just that cruel, or perhaps kind in giving her sister that closure, to be able to see her one last time before she took her last gurgling breath.

It was appropriate, the rain. After the funeral it was a temporary reminder of the warmth that had been reaped from the estate, never to be felt again in this lifetime. Not that (Y/n), Kanao, Aoi, or the youngest residents of the estate needed a reminder. Shinobu certainly didn’t either.

“Shinobu, you didn’t come to dinner. Please try to eat something.” (Y/n) coaxed, sliding the door open. The only light came from a small lantern inside the swirling gloom of the room, highlighting Shinobu hunched over her desk with her head in her hands. “Shinobu?”

“It’s only been a week.” (Y/n) strained to hear the taut whisper of the girl who had grown to be her closest friend. The girl who had given her a second chance at life when she had nowhere else to go. It hurt to hear her sound so broken. “It feels like time is standing still and going too fast at the same time.”

(Y/n) set the light meal in front of Shinobu and leaned against the desk, the wood creaked slightly as she did so. “I know what you mean. I feel the same.”

It wasn’t the first time they’ve talked like this. To be survivors of such unthinkable atrocities, one could go crazy keeping it all locked inside. The guilt, fear, helplessness... sometimes the memories played on loop night after night, waking up to the screams in their minds making sick harmonies with their own.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Shinobu spoke tentatively after a moment of drizzling static tapping against the roof. She raised herself just enough to wrestle a paper out from under her arms and slid it to (Y/n). “Oyakata-sama has sent me a summons to meet with him and the Hashira. He intends for me to take,” Shinobu’s voice grew tighter and she could not bring herself to finish, instead a painful sounding intake of air was all that was audible.

(Y/n) took the paper, holding it close to her face as she squinted, the dull light of the lantern made the letter a bit difficult to read, but the message was clear.

“He wants you to take her place.” (Y/n) frowned, a pained gleam pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s been too long, but yet, not long enough,” Shinobu’s fists tightened, “I know the world hasn’t stopped spinning, demons haven’t stopped killing, but why do they want to replace her so quickly? Why are they willing to toss her aside? I don’t...”

“Shinobu,”

Shinobu finally looked up at (Y/n), angry and mournful tears tracked down her face, “I’m not my sister, I’m not Hashira material. I can’t fill the hole she left, (Y/n)!”

(Y/n) abandoned her perch on the desk to crouch beside Shinobu, enveloping her in her arms. Shinobu tightly grasped her back, watery gasps and sharp inhales fell from her lips as she tried to gain control of her breathing once more.

“Oyakata-sama knows you aren’t Kanae. You’re strong in your own right, Shinobu. He wouldn’t breach the subject if he didn’t think you could succeed by your own merits.”

“I have to keep the estate in order, the infirmary, the girls... I can’t take all this responsibility—“

“You don’t have to,” (Y/n) cut her off, the words came a bit sharper than she meant them too, “you’re not alone Shinobu. We can all have our own parts to play. You don’t have to shoulder this all by yourself.”

“Thank you.” Shinobu’s voice cracked.

They had stayed up well into the night. They hardly talked, the two young girls sat huddled together, holding each other tightly. No matter how much they’ve been hurt, time continues moving forward. Just because a boat has been shredded against a reef, that doesn’t mean the waves will grant reprieve from their assault. No, one is expected to keep swimming or to swallow the salty brine and drown. The Butterfly Estate’s allotted time for grief had passed. Now they were being given the not so subtle command that it was time to get back to work.

***

“I wish you could come with me.” Shinobu said the next morning as she sat on the engawa to put on her shoes. “Even if they made you wait outside I would feel a bit better.”

“You’ll be okay, we’ll be thinking about you all day and waiting for you to come back home.” (Y/n) assured, resting her hand on Shinobu’s back. She was almost afraid to touch the haori Shinobu now adorned, as if her hand would pass right through the material.

(Y/n) was surprised when she saw Shinobu wearing it instead of her usual short white haori, though she supposed there was comfort in holding this piece of her sister close. Perhaps the butterfly patterned haori could comfort Shinobu where (Y/n) and the others could not.

(Y/n) must have been staring too long because Shinobu leaned away from her hand, catching it with her own before (Y/n) could withdraw it completely. Shinobu squeezed the hand a moment, (Y/n) swore her heart froze upon seeing the ghostly smile painted over Shinobu’s lips.

“You’re right. No point in fretting over it, is there?”

“...Right,” (Y/n) blinked, “yeah. You’re going to do great.” (Y/n) managed a smile in return but she could feel the corner of her lips tremble at the effort. She wasn’t sure why, but this smile Shinobu was sporting sent chills down her spine.

“I’ll be off then,” Shinobu stood, releasing (Y/n)’s hand as she stepped away from the engawa, “Do make sure to keep everything in order while I’m away.”

“Of course!” (Y/n) winced at her own volume and Shinobu exhaled a quiet chuckle before turning away to make her way down the path. (Y/n) watched until the haunting haori could no longer be seen between the wisteria trees.

***

It was rather late when Shinobu returned. (Y/n) had just helped the youngest girls of the estate get ready for bed and was heading to the kitchens to prepare some tea to help her sleep. She had jumped in her skin when she saw the back of the butterfly patterned haori in the dim lantern light. Shinobu turned at the sound and sent a small, tired smile (Y/n)’s way.

“I thought I’d catch you here before you turned in for the night.” Shinobu spoke. “You almost always take a cup of tea to bed. I hope you don’t mind having some of what I’ve already prepared.”

It wasn’t the first time Shinobu caught her going to the kitchen to make tea. Though usually it was much later in the dead of night when nightmares and grief kept sleep at bay. (Y/n) wasn’t sure what kind of leaves or brewing Shinobu did, but her tea always managed to knock (Y/n) out cold into deep, dreamless bliss. Something about the way Shinobu was speaking was rubbing (Y/n) the wrong way however. There was none of the familiar attitude. The bashful bitterness that came with the sweetness of the tea. (Y/n) decided to shake it off and returned Shinobu’s tired smile. It would take time for things to seem normal again.

“You know me too well. Thank you.” (Y/n) graciously took the cup, relishing in the cup’s warmth and the relaxing scent that wafted off of the steam. “How did today go?”

“It was... fine.” Shinobu’s smile faltered and she quickly disguised it by sipping her own tea. “I’m officially a Hashira. Insect Pillar Kochou Shinobu.”

“It has a nice ring to it.” (Y/n) put in after a moment’s consideration hidden behind the guise of her clearing her throat. She didn’t know if a ‘congratulations’ would be what Shinobu would want to hear give the circumstances that led up to her new title.

“And how was holding down the fort?” Shinobu asked. It seemed she wanted to shift the topic of conversation away from herself. Not that (Y/n) could blame her.

“Everything went smoothly. Well, Aoi did get a bit aggravated with Kanao about one of her coin decisions but we worked it out. Sumi, Kiyo and Naho are picking up the recovery training lessons quickly and are doing very well. The Kakushi have been taking great care of the infirmary. All patients were still stable last I checked in.” (Y/n) reported.

“Thank you for keeping up with all of that.”

“I have to pull my weight around here somehow.” (Y/n) replied, hiding a yawn behind one hand.

“It’s getting late. You should get to bed before the tea kicks in any further.” Shinobu said, putting her own cup down.

“Aren’t you getting tired too?”

“I made myself a different brew, actually. I’ve got more work to do.” Shinobu allowed herself a little sly smile at the tiny frown (Y/n) wore as she looked into her own empty cup as if it had betrayed her somehow.

“Well, don’t forget you need to sleep too. Don’t overwork yourself.”

“Goodnight, (Y/n).” Shinobu called over her shoulder. She was already walking out of the kitchen.

“I mean it Shinobu. Promise me you’ll sleep tonight.” (Y/n) gently demanded, slipping into the hall to fall in step beside Shinobu.

“I’ll promise to try. Is that acceptable?” Shinobu asked, a bit of familiar snark came through and it made (Y/n) relax a bit and nod.

“Alright. Goodnight, Shinobu.”

At the end of the hall they broke off in different directions. Shinobu to the lab and (Y/n) to her room.

***

(Y/n) went through most of her morning routine before going out of her way to find the newly appointed Hashira. She hadn’t seen her since they parted last night. (Y/n) groaned inwardly, already assuming she’d find the young scientist still balancing equations and mixing beakers.

(Y/n) adjusted her butterfly hairpin before knocking her knuckles against the door, waiting for a reply.

“Shinobu?” (Y/n) had called out after another knock led to no reply. (Y/n) frowned and slid the door open of her own volition, closing it behind her once she was inside. It didn’t take long for her to find the exhausted girl hunched over an array of papers, dead asleep.

“When I told you to go to sleep last night, I had your own bed in mind, not a desk.” (Y/n) sighed quietly.

(Y/n) startled at another knock at the door.

“Who is it?” She asked, keeping her voice soft as to not disturb Shinobu.

“It’s Hayato, miss.” The muffled voice called. Ah, one of the Kakushi. “Kochou-sama has guests to attend to.”

“Set them up in the garden with tea, please. Kochou-sama will meet them just as soon as she finishes these papers.” (Y/n) said. It would not do to have news of the young master of the estate sleeping so late in the morning, and at her desk no less.

The Kakushi dismissed himself to carry out his orders and (Y/n)’ shoulders relaxed as his footprints faded down the hall. (Y/n) didn’t want to wake Shinobu, but if her presence was required, then the meeting must be important.

“Hey, Shinobu,” (Y/n) called softly, gently shaking Shinobu’s shoulders, “you have guests that need to see you.”

Shinobu managed to curl further into herself, mumbling a few curses under her breath that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle at.

“Maybe you’d feel better if you had actually gone to bed instead of passing out like this.”

“Who is it, what do they need?” Shinobu grumped, sitting up to stretch her abused spine.

“I’m not sure. A Kakushi came by to tell you about them. I asked him to set them up in the garden with tea.”

“Thank you for taking care of that,” Shinobu rubbed her eyes and stood, her chair scratching against the floor, “I should get going then.”

“Let me fix your hair quick at least.” (Y/n) said, already freeing Shinobu of her own butterfly clip. “Hold still.”

“It’s a little hard when you keep tugging your fingers through my hair.” Shinobu winced.

“Sorry, just a second.” (Y/n) spoke around the butterfly wing that she held between her lips as her fingers worked to gather Shinobu’s hair. Once Shinobu’s hair was neatly clipped back into place, (Y/n) circled her and smoothed out the wrinkles in Shinobu’s clothes the best she could before finally backing away with a satisfied nod.

“Are you done yet?” Shinobu asked, a faint dusting of blush powdered her cheeks.

“Yeah, you still look tired, but at least you look a little more presentable.” (Y/n) said, opening the lab door and ushering Shinobu through it.

“Presentable.” Shinobu scoffed. “Come with me to the garden?”

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate. I’m not sure who is visiting.”

“Just make yourself busy in the blooms. You live here, you can go where you please.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

The young girls made their way outside, it was warm and sunny, a bit humid as well after all the rain the week before. The sweet smell of the flowers invited deeper breaths to swallow up the scent into every bronchiole of their lungs.

(Y/n) broke off from Shinobu with a little wave, giving a respectful acknowledgment to the people waiting with their tea before busying herself with the flora. Checking on the quality of the plants as Kanae had taught her. The memories spent with the older girl who had taught her so much made (Y/n) shiver despite the warmth of the sun beating down.

(Y/n) would on occasion, discreetly observe the progression of the meeting. The smile Shinobu wore as she spoke to the visitors unnerved her. Even just the way Shinobu was holding herself now, prim and proper, (Y/n) wondered what they could possibly be talking about.

Then the familiar cawing of a crow circling over her head broke (Y/n) from her thoughts. She released her gentle grip over the flower she had stopped to smell and craned her neck to see her crow calling out to her. A mission, her heartbeat picked up in pace. She hadn’t been on one since a few days before Kanae’s death. How out of practice could she be?

“Pardon the noise,” (Y/n) bowed. The meeting had paused in their hushed conversation to observe the bird as well. (Y/n) hardly gave Shinobu a glance as she past. Her fingers trembling slightly as she made her way back inside to retrieve her nichirin blade from her room. (Y/n)’s mind buzzed and her crow’s caws sounded muted and muffled, far away. She kept walking, willing her breaths to remain controlled. Her concentration broke as a hand reached out from behind her and tugged her back.

(Y/n) turned to meet Shinobu’s eyes. Though more subdued, the concern she saw there was genuine.

“(Y/n), I kept telling you to stop. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m sorry, I guess I was just focusing on the mission ahead.”

Shinobu breathed deeply releasing the air in a shaky exhale before gripping (Y/n)’s face in one hand, surprising her.

“No you weren’t.” Shinobu’s grip was firm, “You need to concentrate on your surroundings. I was almost yelling at you just now. I need to know you are going to be able to keep your head about you out there.”

(Y/n) tried to nod her head but Shinobu’s hand kept her head in place.

“I need to hear you say it.” Shinobu said.

“I can keep my head. I will.” (Y/n) swallowed uncomfortably.

Shinobu searched (Y/n)’s face, slowly releasing her grip from (Y/n)‘s jaw and instead grabbed at the neck of (Y/n)’s uniform pulling her so close their noses bumped.

“You better,” She spoke softly.

“I will,” (Y/n) repeated.

Shinobu untensed, her fingers released (Y/n)’s uniform and she wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug that (Y/n) quickly reciprocated.

“Your meeting,” (Y/n) recalled after a moment.

“I asked to be excused. I’m the master of the estate, I can get away with escaping for for a few minutes.”

“I wouldn’t make a habit out of it if I were you.” (Y/n) attempted to joke.

“Only when it matters.” Shinobu nodded seriously, causing (Y/n)’s heart to leap.

(Y/n)’s crow cawed impatiently and the girls parted. (Y/n) left to retrieve her blade and Shinobu watched her back as she left, her hands clenched into tight fists beneath the sleeves of her sister’s haori.

***

Night after night, the missions kept coming. (Y/n) had begun to wonder if she’d ever get to go home again as days became weeks. Scattered letters between waves of demon slaying were the best she could manage to make sure everyone back home knew she was alright.

Another night, a new moon. A few more nights and it would be a full month since she’d last seen everyone. She was glad she took the time to say goodbye before she left. She never imagined she’d be asked to work for so long without reprieve.

Another well timed flower breathing technique beheads another demon and (Y/n) falls against the trunk of a tree breathing hard. She is uninjured but greatly fatigued. The thought to sit and rest hardly enters her mind before her crow commands her eastward to eliminate another threat before dawn.

Breath after breath, technique after technique, night after night (Y/n) fought until everything ached and beyond. When she saw the the sun peak out over the horizon it was almost enough to bring (Y/n) to tears, but she never faltered. She had to stay strong. This was the life she chose to pursue. To save people from the same fate that befallen so many people she had cared about.

It was during an exceptionally hot day when the sun was at its highest point that (Y/n) flinched awake at the shrill squawks she had grown to loathe.

“What?” She hissed between her teeth, her fingers knotting in the grass that had served as her bed for the day.

“Return home to the Butterfly Estate! Return home to recover and rest! Await further instruction!”

(Y/n) lifted herself to rest on her elbows to stare wide-eyed at the bird sitting in the tree branch overhead. For the first time in that very long month, she allowed the tears to finally fall.

***

(Y/n) felt nervous coming back after so long. She opted to return from the rear entrance in an attempt to not garner too much attention. She allowed herself a tentative smile as the gardens came into view. Her fingers skimmed across the colorful blooms as she walked, freezing up only when she saw Shinobu collecting herbs in the distance. Her foot snapped a twig, alerting Shinobu to glance behind her.

“Hi, stranger.” Shinobu simpered, getting to her feet. “Oh!”

(Y/n) forgot all her previous worries and jogged up to Shinobu, picking her up with the added strength that she had built up in her month long absence and twirled her around with abandon.

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu chuckled with surprise, bracing her arms around (Y/n)‘s shoulders as she was flung around.

“I missed you!” (Y/n) sniffled, finally putting the girl down but still holding her tightly.

“I missed you too.” Shinobu said, rubbing (Y/n)’s back. “What took so long getting back, hm?”

“Mission after mission after mission.” came (Y/n)’s bitter reply. “I actually cried when my crow told me I could come home... I don’t know why I told you that. That’s embarrassing.”

Shinobu laughed, pulling back from (Y/n) to get a good look at her. “My, (Y/n), I can tell your time away had made you stronger. Even if you are still a bit of a crybaby.”

“Hey!” (Y/n) pouted.

“(Y/n) is back!”

“Woah!”

(Y/n) was sent stumbling backward a few steps by three blurs of white. Naho, Sumi and Kiyo spoke a mile a minute filling in (Y/n) on all the goings on of the estate. Aoi and Kanao came by soon after and gave (Y/n) their own greetings, expressing their happiness over the slayer’s return in their own ways.

It was good to be home, it was. But after a few days, (Y/n) really got a chance to see how different Shinobu had become.

The tone of her voice carried like a soft breeze and a polite smile could always be seen on her lips. Aoi reminded (Y/n) more of the Shinobu she remembered than the current Shinobu before her. It unnerved her. The way Shinobu would tilt her head just so and giggle daintily into her hand... it was like staring at a ghost.

(Y/n) thought she could get over the change, but she simply couldn’t. Not when staring into those dark, purple eyes. Oh, how they swirled with anger and despair. If Shinobu couldn’t fully believe in the persona she had crafted for herself, then (Y/n) wouldn’t either. Late one night while helping Shinobu in the lab, (Y/n) finally decided to confront her.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?” (Y/n) frowned, worrying the page of the textbook before her between her fingers.

“Hm? I’m afraid I don’t quite know what you mean.” Shinobu replied casually, smile still firmly in place as she crushed some herbs under her pestle.

“You do too know what I mean,” (Y/n) eyebrows furrowed slightly in aggravation, “why do you keep smiling like you’re okay when you’re clearly not?”

“What have I said or done that makes you think I’m not okay? I’m perfectly fine, (Y/n),” she chuckled, “you worry for nothing.”

“That mask might have everyone else fooled... or maybe they’re just complacent, but I’m tired of pretending nothing is wrong. Talk to me, Shinobu.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shinobu shook her head, “there is nothing to discuss. Perhaps I’ve kept you up too late.”

“You shouldn’t have to hide what you’re truly feeling,” (Y/n) persisted, “not from me at least. I thought we were friends.”

“We are.” Shinobu’s tone was nearly clipped as she crushed the herbs a bit more vigorously.

“Then stop acting so, so fake!” (Y/n) spat, wincing almost immediately as fast has the words came out. There was probably a better way she could have said that. Before she could apologize and try again, Shinobu put the pestle on the table with a harsh clink and stalked over to where (Y/n) was sitting. Fighting to keep her tone in check, she stared (Y/n) down with that plastic smile and spoke in a low, hushed tone that filled (Y/n)’s veins with ice.

“So I’m fake, is that right? People change, (Y/n). You were gone for a month, you can’t expect everyone to wait for you, to not change or grow in your absence.”

“People change, yes,” (Y/n) swallowed tightly at the proximity, “but whatever this is Shinobu, I really don’t think it’s healthy. I can tell you’re bottling something up. Kanae—”

“Leave.”

“...what?”

“Leave,” Shinobu closes the textbook in front of (Y/n) and although she does so with care, the sound is deafening in (Y/n)’s ears, “I don’t care where you go, just get out of my lab. I’ve had my fill of this mindless chatter.”

“Are you being serious right now?” (Y/n) clenched her fists and stood from her chair, the legs slid roughly against the wood below.

“Yes, I don’t have time for immature children right now I’m afraid.” Came Shinobu’s airy reply.

“Immature— stop acting like you know better than me, we’re both kids, we’re fourteen!“ (Y/n) seethes, “I’m worried about you! I care about you! Don’t you get it?”

“Your worry is unfounded. It’s late and you are being of no help to me like this so I’ll ask you once more, leave.”

(Y/n) felt heat pricking the corners of her eyes. “I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore.” She breathed. “But fine, I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

“At this moment in time, I couldn’t ask for anything better.” Shinobu replied, turning her back to (Y/n) to continue what she had previously been working on.

Once (Y/n) shut the door with finality and her quick footsteps became softer as she ran down the hall, Shinobu exhaled harshly, gripping the pestle tightly in her hand as she mercilessly pounded the dried herbs into dust.

“Only immature people don’t control their emotions... only immature people...”

As Shinobu repeated her mantra, (Y/n) burst into her room and looked around her. With trembling hands she changed into a fresh uniform and packed a small bag of belongings and slinging it over her shoulder. She grabbed her haori and attached her nichirin blade to her hip.

She looked around the room once more and caught her reflection in the little hand mirror on her desk, catching the bright colors of a wing that secured her hair in place. She reached back, freeing her hair from the clip and stared at it. She ran her thumb over the decorative clip before setting it on the desk. She reached for a plain hair band and tied her hair back with that instead.

(Y/n) left her room, sparing one last hurt glance at the butterfly clip before exiting the estate grounds. Before long, her crow circled overhead and (Y/n) held her arm out for the bird to take perch. The crow cawed at her expectantly, questioning her.

“If she wants me to leave, then what else is there to do?” (Y/n) shuddered in the wind. She turned away from the estate, willing herself not to turn back.

“Where will you go?” The crow asked.

“...I don’t know.”

With every step leaving the warmth of the estate farther behind, (Y/n)’s heart grew heavier in her chest.

***

“Have any of you seen (Y/n) today?” Shinobu asked the girls once they had come back in after hanging the laundry out to dry.

A chorus of negatives and head shakes met her and she sighed inwardly. “Very well then. Thank you.”

Shinobu traveled through the maze of hallways that made up her home, easily finding herself in front of (Y/n)’s door, knocking politely. With no reply, Shinobu forced herself not to roll her eyes and opened the door.

“(Y/n), if this is about last night...” Shinobu blinked at the empty room. Futon made, clean floors, not a thing out of place, but no (Y/n).

“Perhaps she’s out training.” Shinobu said to herself. She was about to close the door and head off into the gardens when a glint from the desk caught her eye and she approached. A soft gasp left her lips as she picked up the hairpin. Cradling it in her hands, Shinobu forced her breaths to remain controlled. (Y/n) had never gone a day without wearing the pin since the Kochou sisters gifted it to her.

In the safety of the empty room, Shinobu allowed herself to slump over the desk. She held the discarded hairpin close to her chest, immediately understanding what this small symbol meant. Yes, she knew what it meant, she just wished to know why. She fought against the waves, against the feeling that she was drowning again.

***

Four years was a long time, and if you asked (Y/n), the demon slayer would say that was especially true with her line of work. The demons were never the same, but the routine in between was lonely and dull. Kill a demon, settle down at an inn or in the trees for the day, move to the next village and repeat. Sometimes the stays were longer, but that was the gist of it.

(Y/n) kept to herself most of the time. There wasn’t really a point in making anything more than loose acquaintances with the constant traveling and dangers her work presented. Even on the few missions she had been paired up with other slayers in the area, she focused on the job at hand before quickly making her way to her next assignment. That started to change after she met Kamado Tanjirou and his demon sister Nezuko.

They did not get off on the right foot to say the least.

(Y/n) had been sent to the same location as the young slayer for a mission and knew something was off about him right away. Something off with that box he carried around anyway. (Y/n) opted to let him be for the time being, focusing on the mission ahead. Skip forward to the heat of battle, and (Y/n) could hardly believe her eyes when a demon burst from the boy’s box to attack another demon that had snuck around Tanjirou’s back.

(Y/n) had no time to watch and focus on this new development at the moment, she had her own demons to take care of. Her flower breathing techniques weaved through her enemies and heads went flying. Before long, the mission was completed and (Y/n) turned to the boy breathing heavily in the dirt with the demon from the box hovering over him looking at (Y/n) with curious eyes.

“You’re really skilled, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou praised, somehow unaware of the danger his sister was in, “You don’t even look like you’re out of breath.”

“I’ve been doing this for years. I know a lot. For instance,” (Y/n) spoke, her face stern as stone as she readied her blade, startling Tanjirou, “every demon must be destroyed.” She went in with a quick slash aimed at the demon’s neck only to pause at the last second when the foolish younger boy leapt to his feet to shield the demon from the blow.

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) asked sternly.

“Wait, she’s my sister! She’s a good demon!”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you that what you are doing is against corps rules. I can sympathize with wanting to hold onto your loved ones, but there is no such thing as a good demon. Step aside.”

“No, Nezuko has never eaten a human and she never will!” Tanjirou held his ground while his sister growled at (Y/n) from behind him.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “Alright then,” she said with a sarcastic sweetness, “prove it.”

“What?” Tanjirou blinked.

“Prove it, take off the muzzle. Let’s see if she has as much control as you claim she does.”

“But—“

“It shouldn’t be a problem, right? If she’s as docile as you claim what’s the issue?”

Tanjirou grit his teeth and gently pulled the muzzle to rest around his sister’s neck. (Y/n) stepped forward, her face inches away from the demon. She wasn’t worried, if the demon lunged for her she was confident she could slice its head the moment the air changed.

“Well demon?” (Y/n) sighed, surprising Tanjirou by slicing the pad of her thumb on her sharp blade, “hungry?”

To Nezuko’s credit, she hardly flinched. However, her eyes followed the path of the blood and a small trickle of drool slid past her lips. (Y/n) taunted her a bit further, waving the bloodied hand in front of her nose, still Nezuko held strong and even went as far as turning away.

“...I must say, I’m rather impressed,” (Y/n) finally spoke, stepping back from the demon and licking at her own wound, “marechi blood such as my own usually makes the demons go crazy,” she turns back to Tanjirou, “still, you must know that keeping a demon alive like this, especially as a slayer, is dangerous for both of you.”

“I know,” Tanjirou bowed his head.

“Well,” (Y/n) stretched and sighed, “as long as you know I guess it’s your own problem.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, just don’t call me out if a Hashira finds you out. I don’t feel like dying a disgrace.” (Y/n) waved him off. “You’re going to have to work even harder and be more discreet. That’s my advice to you.” And (Y/n) was going to leave it at that and walk away, but then her crow chanted in tandem with Tanjirou’s, calling them to continue forward together. (Y/n)′s eye twiched at the grating sounds.

“It looks like we’ll still be working together for some time, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou smiled, catching the older girl off guard by the sincerity behind it. You’d think he’d be more put off considering (Y/n) was planning to kill his sister not five minutes ago.

“I suppose we are.”

“Say, (Y/n)-san, you’re strong. You can help me get stronger too, right?”

“Mm!”

“Hey, get her off of me!” (Y/n) momentarily panicked as the demon wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Nezuko, manners!”

(Y/n) wasn’t sure what she had done to get saddled with the strange siblings, but she could tell her job just went above her pay grade.

***

As it turns out, the Kamado siblings weren’t so bad. In fact, (Y/n) was starting to get really attached to the two. It was when Inosuke and Zenitsu were pulled into their little group, that was when (Y/n) realized she didn’t know what true pain was.

“(Y/n)-san, marry me!”

“Flower Girl, fight me!”

All damn day and night.

(Y/n) thought she’d finally have reprieve once Tanjirou had healed up at the Wisteria House, but of course the two boisterous boys were being sent with them to their next mission, Natagumo Mountain.

Zenitsu cowered at the forest edge and (Y/n) felt no remorse in leaving him behind as she sprinted ahead of Inosuke and Tanjirou, freeing the puppeted Mizunoto slayers.

Eventually they had been split off from each other to fight their own battles. (Y/n) was tired but otherwise unharmed, surprised when a small Nezuko came barreling into her.

“Nezu—?” (Y/n) gasped as the air shifted above her and she dodged the quick swipe aimed at the tiny body that clung to her. She quickly pivoted, blade in hand, and crossed swords with the assailant her eyes blowing wide at the placid face in front of her.

“Kanao?!” (Y/n) yelled out, the nostalgia and adrenaline coursing through her body was an odd, slightly terrifying combination.

Kanao tilted her head, her lips parted ever so slightly as recognition gleamed in her eyes. Despite this, Kanao did have a mission to complete and (Y/n) was keeping her from completing her orders. She continued swiping at the older girl she used to know, trying to behead the demon she could not fathom why she was protecting.

(Y/n) parried and blocked best she could, taking a defensive approach while she tried to talk Kanao down. She didn’t want to hurt Kanao, but she didn’t want Nezuko to be killed either.

Finally a saving grace, a crow swooping by with a message that saved Nezuko’s neck. (Y/n) sighed in relief as Kanao pulled back. Still looking at (Y/n) she pointed to the small demon that had wrapped herself tightly over (Y/n)’s back.

“Is this Nezuko?” She asked looking for a positive ID on the demon in question.

“Yes.” (Y/n) easily replied.

“Come with me then.” Kanao said, already corralling (Y/n) and her demon backpack in the direction of the forest edge.

(Y/n) walked alongside her a bit begrudgingly. If she made a break for it, she could have probably gotten away, but it was very likely Tanjirou and the others were already in custody. The best chance they had now was to do as they were told and hope Nezuko’s resolve would stand firm.

So (Y/n) hid Nezuko in her haori as the sun began to peak over the hills and followed Kanao to the clearing of bustling Kakushi. On the way, she began preparing her story for the trial she was sure her little team was bound to endure.

She was immediately broken from her thoughts at the ethereal sight of the Insect Pillar emerging from another point of the woods with the Water Pillar and a badly beaten Tanjirou on his back.

(Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat as those deep, dark eyes found hers at it was like time was at a stand still. At least it would have been if not for Shinobu steadily making her way towards her, her expression painfully impassive beyond the small upturn of her lips. Shinobu kept coming until she was directly in front of (Y/n).

Nezuko stirred in her sleep, clutching at (Y/n)’s back as if she could sense anxiety in the slayer’s heart. The demon was the only thing grounding her at this point as Shinobu tilted her head, an almost sinister look in her eye as she observed the small demon bundle protected by (Y/n)’s haori. All too soon, her cold eyes found their way back to (Y/n)’s and she spoke.

“I’m not going to have to tie you up, am I?”

(Y/n) closed her eyes briefly and tried to take a calming breath. With a short, almost imperceivable shake of her head, she hoarsely replied.

“No.”

“Let’s try to keep it that way then.”

Shinobu and Kanao had let (Y/n) help Nezuko into her box, but then they immediately separated the two, having a Kakushi carry the box with a wary look in her eyes. (Y/n) did her best not to look behind her where Kanao and Shinobu walked, no doubt watching her for any sign of flight.

She gulped, eyes nervously shifting to the Water Pillar walking beside her, and the Kakushi who was now carrying Tanjirou in his stead. The Water Pillar spared her an emotionless glance as he forged ahead.

“Is he going to be alright?” She asked in a hushed tone.

Enough time had passed after her question that (Y/n) had figured the man wasn’t in the mood to talk, understandably so, but (Y/n) was worried about the state Tanjirou was in. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he actually answered her minutes later.

“That will all depend on how the trial goes.”

(Y/n) felt dread pool in her stomach as they continued to march down the mountain.

***

The garden of the Master’s estate would have been lovely on any other occasion, but (Y/n) could only bring herself to stare at the pebbles below her knees and Tanjirou passed out at her side. They had taken Nezuko somewhere else in the meantime, she could only hope they would let the demon be, let her prove herself in front of them instead of killing her on principle.

(Y/n) could feel that Shinobu was standing just behind her but she dared not engage. Four years of silence between the two and a trial for treason in the highest regard had brought them together again. (Y/n) wanted to scream.

Finally Tanjirou began to stir and (Y/n) allowed herself to push away her turmoil to rouse the younger boy gently. The last thing they needed was for him to be all up in arms before the trial even officially began.

“(Y/n)-san,” Tanjirou winced, “where are we? Where is Nezuko?”

“We’re at the Demon Slayer Headquarters,” (Y/n) replied, her voice was hardly above a whisper as she felt the pressure of all the Hashira’s eyes boring into them, “I don’t know where they’re keeping Nezuko, but right now you need to focus on the trial ahead.”

“The trial?”

“For harboring a demon, Tanjirou.”

“I wouldn’t bother trying to justify it! A crime as heinous as yours only ends one way!” Rengoku Kyojirou loudly proclaimed, rallying a range of replies from his fellow pillars.

“Now that he’s finally awake to witness his punishment, let’s behead these traitors and the demon and get on with our lives.” Uzui Tengen added.

“Please,” (Y/n) forced her voice not to waiver, “allow him to explain the situation at least—“

“You’re in no position to be asking for favors, girl.” Obanai Iguro cut her off, glaring down at her from where he lounged on a tree branch. “You had best hold your tongue. A slayer at your rank should be ashamed. I’m surprised you haven’t already sliced yourself open for the embarrassment you’ve brought to the corps.”

“Iguro-san!” Kanroji gasped at the harsh words.

“Who are these people, (Y/n)-san?” Tanjirou groaned, noticing for the first time that his hands were tied tightly behind his back.

“Tanjirou, are you serious?” (Y/n)’s tone was hushed and urgent, “they’re the Hashira! You know, best of the demon slayers?”

“I don’t know, umph!” (Y/n) hastily covered his mouth, a nervous sweat gathered at her brow.

“Just try to be respectful, will you? You already broke the thin ice you’ve been traveling on, let’s try not to drown as well!”

“This isn’t right, (Y/n)-san! Where is Nezuko? Zenitsu? Inosuke? Murata?” Tanjirou spoke out, his voice heavy with emotion as he fought his way up to his knees.

“What I want to know is why we haven’t tied Tomioka or the Kinoe ranked slayer.” Obanai sneered from his tree, ignoring Tanjirou’s desperate tone. “They are both part of the boy’s schemes and should be punished as such. How are we going to teach them a lesson?”

“Oh they’ll be fine,” (Y/n) shivered hearing Shinobu speak above her from where she knelt in the pebbles, “we’ll come up with a penalty later.”

(Y/n) froze, her eyes refused to look up beyond the feet that stood before Tanjirou and herself.

“What I’m interested right now, is hearing this boy’s story.” Shinobu said. “He’s been traveling with a demon all this time, and I wish to hear why. It must be quite the tale to have Tomioka-san break ranks,” the feet take a step closer and Shinobu’s voice dropped in volume, “and you as well, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) tightened her grip over her pant leg, still refusing to look up. She could imagine an array of expressions her old friend could be wearing right now that could cut her deeper than any blade. Pity, anger, disgust, smugness, apathy, that blank smile... no, (Y/n) couldn’t bear to look up.

“So why, Kamado Tanjirou?” Shinobu asked.

“Who cares?” Uzui scoffed from a few yards away, yet he waited for the boy to explain himself.

“She’s my—“ he broke into a fit of coughs and (Y/n) tried to soothe his back, telling him to breathe.

Shinobu stooped down, a gourd of water in hand, offering the water to Tanjirou and finally catching (Y/n)’s eyes as the boy drank the medicated water. When Shinobu’s eyes returned to Tanjirou, (Y/n) remembered how to breathe.

“She’s my little sister!” Tanjirou proclaimed. “She’s never hurt anyone and she never will!”

A few of the Hashira began casting their doubt, but Tanjirou powered through.

“I became a slayer to find a cure for her! In two whole years since she became a demon, she’s never eaten a single person! Let her continue to fight by my side!”

“Well, well, looks like the fun’s already starting.”

(Y/n) turned her head and her breathing hitched. Of course the Wind Pillar of all people would get his hands on Nezuko’s box.

“Is this the boy who has been traveling with a demon? Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Shinazugawa asked with a sinister grin.

“Please put down the box Shinazugawa-sama!” The Kakushi (Y/n) recalled to have prior possession of the box pleaded.

“Shinazugawa, please do not act out of line.” Shinobu warned.

“Nah, run that by me again, kid?” Sanemi jeered, holding the box precariously in one hand, “fighting alongside a demon? Impossible, you idiot!”

Tanjirou and (Y/n) called out in horror as the Hashira rammed his blade clean through the box, skewering Nezuko.

Tanjirou scrambled to his feet and lunged at Sanemi, (Y/n) was about to get to her feet as well, but Shinobu held her firmly in place, clutching (Y/n)’s arm tightly while shooting her a warning glance.

(Y/n) could only watch, mouth agape, as Tanjirou head butted Shinazugawa to the ground.

Mitsuri attempted to stifle a snort, covering her face in her hands.

“If you can’t tell the difference between good demons and bad ones, then you don’t deserve to be a Hashira!” Tanjirou yelled.

“We’re doomed.” (Y/n) whispered weakly. She felt as if all her blood was sinking to her knees, sinking as fast as their chance of forgiveness down the drain.

Before Sanemi could retaliate, a couple of Oyakata-sama’s children announced the Master’s arrival. (Y/n) was quick to follow Shinobu in a bow, wincing when she heard what could only be Sanemi pounding Tanjirou into the rocks, forcing him to bow.

“Hello everyone,” Oyakata-sama addressed the garden, his voice carried in the warm breeze, “how good it feels to have you all here.”

Sanemi greeted the Master, formally asking for an explanation. If not for the seriousness of the moment, (Y/n) would have rolled her eyes.

“The Kamado siblings have been sanctioned, you see. I request you all respect that.” Oyakata stated simply.

An array of mostly negative objections arose at this ending with Sanemi calling for punishments for Tanjirou, (Y/n), and Giyuu.

The Master stood silently for a moment before asking one of his children to read a letter aloud. A letter from a previous Hashira, detailing Nezuko’s history. The letter also revealing that should Nezuko fail; Urokodaki, Tanjirou, and Giyuu would atone through seppuku.

A few of the Hashira were still willing to speak against such a plan, swearing that it was not a risk worth taking. Once there was a lull in their heated remarks, Ubuyashiki saw fit to address (Y/n).

“(Y/n), my child.”

(Y/n)’s head jutted up at the sudden call of attention to her presence. “Ye— yes, Master?”

“Why do you think that of the squad that has been built around you, only you are here?” Oyakata-sama asked with an warm smile.

“I would suppose it would be because I should know better than a ragtag group of Mizunoto, Master.” came (Y/n)’s subdued reply.

“I would hope so.” The Master chuckled, causing heat to bloom across (Y/n)’s cheeks. “Why didn’t you kill the demon?”

“I was going to, but she proved herself to me,” (Y/n) began speaking more evenly as she recalled the moment, “I presented her with my blood, my rare blood, and she turned away. I have traveled with the Kamado siblings for weeks and not once had Nezuko hurt anyone. She protects people, she sleeps to replenish energy. Based on everything I have observed, I believe in Nezuko. I believe in Tanjirou.”

“Would you stake your life on this along with the others listed here today?” Oyakata-sama asked.

(Y/n) breathed in, firmly nodding her head. Her eyes meeting Ubuyashiki’s milky blank one’s despite his lack of vision.

“Yes, I would.”

Shinobu’s hold on (Y/n)’s bicep curled. (Y/n) hadn’t realized she had still been holding her down.

“And here we have three, now four, people willing to take responsibility for this demon. What say you, my children?” The Master asked the Hashira warmly.

“Forgive me Master, but this is not a matter of numbers!” Sanemi yelled, “Demons are sick creatures that need to be put down and I’ll prove it to you now!”

Sanemi sliced his arm, much more blood than (Y/n) had conjured with the small cut to her thumb that she had presented to Nezuko. She and Tanjirou watched as the blood dripped to the box, staining the lacquered wood.

“No good doing this in the light.” Obanai said, “it won’t come out unless it’s dark.”

Sanemi dashed to the shaded engawa, enticing Nezuko to come out with another stab at the box.

“No!” Tanjirou yelled, he made to scramble to the engawa, but was quickly subdued by Obanai.

“Stop!” (Y/n) echoed Tanjirou’s sentiments, pulling against Shinobu’s hold. “Why are you being so needlessly cruel?”

Sanemi ignored them, a wicked grin on his face as he watched Nezuko emerge from the box, growling lowly.

“Well then, demon?” He sneered, holding out his arm.

(Y/n) could tell Nezuko was straining against the pull of the marechi blood. With all of the injuries she had sustained working against her as well, it couldn’t be easy for the demon to hold back.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou wheezed as Obanai was pincering his lung painfully with his elbow.

“Kamado-kun,” Shinobu addressed, “don’t struggle too much while in that hold, your lung might burst.”

Tanjirou only struggled harder, surprising everyone when he broke through his rope restraints and stumbled towards the engawa. Tomioka stopped Obanai from pinning him again.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou called again.

His voice seemed to finally break through to Nezuko and after a few tense moments, she turned away from Sanemi in disgust.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the relieved smile that overtook her lips.

Once the scene was relayed to the Master, he seemed pleased with the report. He told Tanjirou that although Nezuko had done well to prove herself, they would need to grow even stronger before they could be fully accepted by the others. With that wisdom, he said they were free to go.

(Y/n) startled as Shinobu finally let her go, raising her arm to speak. “If all is well then Oyakata-sama, allow me to provide lodging for them.”

Both (Y/n) and Tanjirou seemed a bit wary of this sudden hospitality, (Y/n) even more so, but if Shinobu noticed or cared she didn’t show it, signaling the Kakushi who had been standing by to gather the injured boy and the demon.

The Kakushi tasked with carrying Nezuko seemed a bit frightened of the little demon kneeling in her box, so naturally (Y/n) rose to carry her instead.

“I’ve got her.” She smiled kindly and reached for the box and secured it shut, but not before giving the demon girl a few well earned head pats that rose Nezuko’s mood greatly.

Another Kakushi picked up Tanjirou then (Y/n) and the two Kakushi quickly made their retreat. That is, until Tanjirou bursted back into the garden asking to headbutt Sanemi.

“Please excuse us!” (Y/n) and the two Kakushi bowed deeply once they got him back under control and sped off twice as fast. (Y/n) and the Kakushi running beside her berated Tanjirou from where he sat on the other Kakushi’s back for such a disrespectful display after being allowed the impossible.

When they reached the Butterfly Estate, (Y/n)’s heart squeezed in her chest. The grounds looked to be near the same as the night she had left. No one was there to greet them at the door, so they went around the gardens and found Kanao standing amongst the butterflies.

“Hi, Kanao.” (Y/n) greeted the younger girl bashfully. Now that they weren’t battling over keeping Nezuko’s head, (Y/n) finally took in how much she had grown in four years.

Kanao stayed silent, a serene smile on her lips as she merely observed the group that had approached her.

“What are you all here for?” A sharp voice called from behind them, causing the Kakushi to jump and spin to quickly explain they were here to put Tanjirou in the infirmary.

“Well then come with me...” Aoi’s words trailed off a bit once her eyes found (Y/n)’s face.

“Hi Aoi,” (Y/n) gave a nervous half wave, “you’ve gotten a bit taller.”

Aoi marched straight up to (Y/n) and berated her with a barrage of small fists pounding painlessly against her chest. “What would you expect after being gone so long!” She sniffed, “Four years without a single letter or visit? We thought you were dead, idiot!”

“(Y/n)-san? Do you know these people?” Tanjirou asked from Gotou’s back.

“Yeah, I uh, sorta used to live here.” (Y/n) replied, allowing Aoi to continue hitting her to her heart’s content.

“‘Sorta used to live here’, you’re family! You have always had a place here! Now come on, I’m sure Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho will have a bone to pick with you as well. And Shinobu-sama!” Aoi’s fist struck especially hard at the thought, “Shinobu-sama is going to have some choice words for you when she gets back I just know it!”

Aoi led them all inside, occasionally throwing a few more jabs into (Y/n)’s side to make sure she was really there. She didn’t admit that was what they were for of course, she played it off more as a punishment for disappearing for so long.

There was screaming coming from the infirmary and (Y/n) would have been worried if she hadn’t recognized the sound almost immediately.

“Zenitsu!” Tanjirou called excitedly.

While Tanjirou and poor Gotou were dealing with the sobbing, snotty boy, Aoi had dragged (Y/n) over to Kiyo who had been tending to Zenitsu only moments before.

“Look who finally decided to come home.” Aoi told the younger girl who looked up, tilting her head. (Y/n) almost thought Kiyo hadn’t recognized her. Being as young as she was, she wouldn’t have blamed her, but then she burst forward and hugged (Y/n) tightly around her waist.

“What’s going on in here? Hm, Aoi-san, Kiyo?”

Naho and Sumi had made their way into the infirmary with a basket of fresh linens and paused at the entryway for a moment before they realized who their friend was hugging and ran over to join her with tears in their eyes.

“(Y/n)-san, where have you been all this time?” Naho whimpered.

“Why didn’t you say anything before you left?” Sumi cried.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) knelt down to better hug them all, “I know it’s not enough to make up for anything, but I’m sorry for leaving like that. It wasn’t fair,” she looked up to meet Aoi’s stern blue eyes, “to any of you.”

“Well, make it up to us by sticking around from now on.” Aoi said, crossing her arms. “No more running away.”

“But...” (Y/n) was conflicted. Had Shinobu not told the girls why she had left? (Y/n) mustered up the best smile she could and nodded feebly. “All right.”

“(Y/n)-san, your box is... humming?” Sumi pointed at the wooden box.

“Oh, um, you see... in this box is my friend, Nezuko,” (Y/n) treaded carefully, not wishing to startle the girls too badly if she could help it.

“You have someone in a box?” Aoi barked, “well let them out for goodness sake!”

“It’s a little bright in here...” (Y/n) shifted her vision to where Tanjirou and Zenitsu were talking, catching sight of Inosuke as well. Poor boar boy looked like he’d seen better days. “And I’m not sure that Shinobu-” should she still speak of her so informally? “-would be pleased if I let her out without her blessing.”

“Why wouldn’t Shinobu-sama allow you to let someone out of a box?” Aoi rolled her eyes.

“It’s complicated. I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you all about it once she comes back. Until then, Nezuko will be fine in here.”

The girls, though incredulous, let the subject drop for now. Although, they couldn’t help but eye the box with suspicion. Once Tanjirou was settled in the infirmary, the butterfly girls dragged (Y/n) away to talk about the goings on of the last four years which soon devolved into hounding (Y/n) for her own stories to share, even Kanao had come by to sit and listen.

“...And that’s how I helped the fishing village take care of the demon that was lurking in the sea.”

“Tell us another one, (Y/n)-san!” The youngest girls pleaded, kicking their feet in the air behind them. They had migrated to lay flat on their stomachs as the stories progressed and watched (Y/n) recount her adventures with their heads propped up on their arms with rapt attention.

“I’m afraid that will have to wait for another time, it’s quite late you know.”

Everyone turned to the door to find Shinobu staring down at them. The youngest girls pouted a bit, trying to get a bit more time to stick around, but Shinobu held firm and directed them to their rooms.

“You’ll still be here tomorrow, right? (Y/n)-san?” Sumi asked from the doorway.

“I...” (Y/n) pulled at the sleeve of her uniform and subtly pursed her lips while trying to figure out how to proceed, to her surprise, Shinobu spoke up on her behalf.

“I promise you’ll see her in the morning. Now of to bed. (Y/n) and I have much to discuss.”

The thought of having a prolonged conversation with Shinobu sent shivers through (Y/n)’s spine. Once all the girls were well out of sight, Shinobu redirected her attention to (Y/n).

“Let’s drop off your cargo first,” Shinobu said, motioning to the box sitting beside (Y/n), “I’ve arranged a room and Kamado-kun has been wondering where his... sister, has been.”

“Of course.” (Y/n) stood, shouldering the box.

Apparently the room was rather far. (Y/n) felt as if the silence between them was slowly eating at her until she finally decided to speak. For better or for worse.

“You’ve taken all of this extraordinarily well,” (Y/n) commented, testing the waters.

“Mm, I’d like to hold off on any conversation until we drop off the demon. Use this time to gather any thoughts, if you have them that is.”

(Y/n)’s brow furrowed slightly, eyes narrowed. She was sure that was some kind of dig at her intelligence, but she held her tongue.

They dropped off Nezuko, (Y/n) and Tanjirou bid each other good night, and then (Y/n) was led to an all too familiar space, the lab.

Shinobu motioned for (Y/n) to sit at one of the less cluttered tables while she closed the door firmly behind them. (Y/n) would have been lying if she said she wasn’t even just a tad bit concerned by the setting of this ‘talk’ that was about to unfold. Finally, Shinobu took the stool across from her on the other side of the table. She laced her fingers together, using them to prop up her chin as her endlessly amethyst eyes bore into (Y/n)’s. That ghostly smile seemingly perfected after four years of separation, had (Y/n)’s hands clench into fists under the table.

“So,” Shinobu began, her voice deceptively sweet, “when exactly do you think it was when you completely lost your mind?”

“Excuse me?” (Y/n)’s eye twitched.

“Defending a demon, offering up your own life for a demon to live... how insanely idiotic. I thought you were smarter than that. I suppose it had been.. four years, was it? Four years since you ran off. And I thought that was the most careless thing you could ever do. You really have outdone yourself!”

“Stop,” (Y/n) had heard enough of these little jabs and she new well enough Shinobu could go all day as long as she hadn’t changed too drastically in their time apart. However, Shinobu powered through.

“Everyone was devastated when you left you know. We were a family and you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word so soon after—“ After Kanae, “Now you’re putting everything on the line for some demon? You’re a coward. A selfish coward.”

(Y/n) was really angry now. She stood up so fast her stool clattered to the ground behind her. She slammed her hands against the table and stared furiously into Shinobu’s placid expression, though she could detect a hint of a heated spark in those deep purple eyes.

“Don’t act like you’re so innocent in all of this! You told me to leave! You want to judge me for trusting Nezuko with my life, fine! But I only did what you commanded of me when I left. You don’t get to say I just fucked off because you think I didn’t care enough!”

Shinobu had the nerve to chuckle, though no trace of humor was there, as she slowly rose to her own feet and assumed a similar stance over the table as (Y/n).

“Did you really think when I said that, when I told you to leave the lab, I meant I wanted you to walk out of my life?” Shinobu asked seriously.

“I didn’t know what you wanted! You weren’t the same person anymore! Don’t try telling me that it wasn’t what you wanted either, you never came looking for me. You never sent your crow. Tell me you weren’t ecstatic when you woke up that morning and didn’t have to deal with me anymore!”

Shinobu slapped her own hand against the table, a vein pulsed painfully under the skin of her forehead. She opened her mouth to retort, poisoned words ready to lash out with a flick of her tongue, but as luck would have it, a Kakushi nervously called from the other side of the door.

“Kochou-sama, the treatments for the, uh, despiderfication of the slayers from Natagumo Mountain are ready to be carried out with your supervision.”

Shinobu closed her eyes, breathing in deeply before opening them again and looking significantly more drained.

“I see. Please inform the others that I’ll be there in a few moments.”

“Right away, Kochou-sama.”

As the footsteps pattered away, (Y/n) fixed her stool upright before heading in the direction of the door, assuming she and Shinobu were done talking, or screaming rather. (Y/n) was surprised to feel Shinobu grasp her hand as she tried to pass by.

“You remember where your room is, right?” Shinobu asked, the undertones of her voice still taut with anger.

(Y/n) too tired to fight on, responded simply with a mute nod.

“I had the Kakushi clean it earlier today. Everything should still be as you left it.”

Shinobu let go of (Y/n)’s hand and it immediately felt cold. The Hashira opened the lab door and stepped out into the hallway, her back to (Y/n) as she made her last parting statement.

“If you know what is good for you, you won’t step a foot outside of estate grounds without speaking to me first.”

“And if I don’t?” (Y/n) asked just to be obstinate.

“Then I guess I’ll have to hunt you down for sport.” Shinobu quickly replied, turning to face (Y/n) just to show her how serious she was.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the weak guffaw that left her lips. To hear such a threat delivered by such a soothing tone was practically oxymoronic.

Shinobu lingered for a moment longer before gliding off to see to her patients while (Y/n) turned down the opposite end of the hallway and traveled down a few more to find herself standing outside of her old room. She opened the door, the space was clean as Shinobu promised. She closed the door softly behind her, blocking off the light from the hall. There would be time to be sentimental in the morning. Right now, between the Mountain, the trial and the emotional battle with the Insect Hashira herself, (Y/n) was exhausted. She scooted her way into the freshly made futon and fell asleep with the nostalgic smell of wisteria petals drifting through her airways.

***

(Y/n) awoke around mid-morning to the sun shining through her window. She stretched and got dressed, her fingers pausing over the last few buttons of her uniform as she glanced over the desk.

The butterfly hair clip she had once worn with pride sat in front of her. It appeared to be left untouched by time. Not even a speck of dust adorned the colorful wings. She reached out to it, but her fingers curled just before she touched it. She pulled her hand back as a knock sounded on the door.

“Yes?”

“It’s Aoi.” A voice called from the other side.

(Y/n) quickly took the last few steps needed to reach the door and slid it open to greet Aoi but before she could, the stern girl stepped inside and pulled the door shut again.

“Were you and Shinobu-sama fighting last night?” She asked hurriedly.

“Where did you hear that?” (Y/n) answered the question with one of her own.

“The Kakushi are partial to gossip. Now what did you do!” Aoi huffed, jabbing (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Why does it have to be me? Shinobu was the one who started it!” (Y/n) backed up, rubbing her shoulder.

“You two better make up soon. It will hurt Naho, Sumi and Kiyo if they find out you’re still mad at each other,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s not that easy, Aoi. It’s been four years. It’s not all going to go away overnight.”

“Do I have to do everything around here?” Aoi grumbled to herself, passing a hand over her face. “I’ll help you, but you better try to be civil.”

“Aoi, I don’t need help. I’m sorry that fight got back to you. If Shinobu and I talk again, I promise I’ll try harder to keep my temper in check, okay?”

Aoi sighed and shook her head, “Fine. That wasn’t what I had come to talk to you about anyway.”

“Oh,” (Y/n) tilted her head, “then what is it?”

“Your friends,” Aoi pinched the bridge of her nose, “they’re driving me crazy. I need you to get the blonde and the boar to participate in recovery training.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” (Y/n) answered with slight reluctance. She knew just how difficult those two could be.

Aoi and (Y/n) arrived at the room that was being used for the boys’ recovery training. Tanjirou was already working hard, trying to catch Kanao in a game of tag, while Zenitsu and Inosuke watched from the corner with bitter disinterest.

“Hey,” (Y/n) addressed the younger teens, “what’s the problem? Don’t you guys want to get better? Stronger?”

“It’s pointless.” Inosuke weakly answered.

“(Y/n)-san, this training is too difficult!” Zenitsu cried.

(Y/n) dodged the weepy blonde’s attempts at hugging her and bonked him on the head with the side of her fist.

“I feel no sympathy for you. Aoi and the others are working really hard to get you back in fighting shape, the least you could do is put a little bit of effort in!” (Y/n) crossed her arms, “before you know it, Tanjirou will leave you both in the dust. Do you really want that?”

Zenitsu and Inosuke grunted, still refusing to budge. (Y/n) motioned for Naho to hand her a cup of medicated water and promptly splashed its contents all over the boys.

“What was that for?” Zenitsu screeched.

“Want revenge? Come take me on.” (Y/n) motioned to the table of cups.

Naho, Sumi and Kiyo made small sounds of excitement, trying to encourage the boys, but they just grumbled and walked back to the infirmary.

“You guys are going to regret walking away!” (Y/n) called after them. “Let me know when you are done moping and want to get back to work!”

“Oh my.” Shinobu giggled as she walked in, watching Zenitsu and Inosuke sulk past her.

Shinobu turned to observe the room, pausing at (Y/n). Her eyes flickered down at (Y/n)’s chest and stayed there long enough for the other slayer to notice.

“What?” (Y/n) had grumbled mostly to herself as she followed Shinobu’s gaze downward. Heat shot to her face immediately as she realized she had forgotten to finish buttoning her uniform after Aoi distracted her. It wasn’t showing a lot, just her collar bones and a bit of her chest, but it was still jarring. With a strangled chirp, she quickly buttoned her uniform the rest of the way.

“Oh please, no need to cover up on my account.” Shinobu easily teased, though she felt a bit embarrassed to have been caught staring. She wasn’t entirely sure why her vision gravitated there to begin with.

After a few false starts, (Y/n) finally choked out, “what do you want?”

“I need Kanao and Aoi to help me gather more herbs for spider demon antidotes, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Kochou-sama,” Aoi interjected before (Y/n) could retaliate, “Kanao and I are helping Tanjirou complete his recovery training for the day. I’ve asked (Y/n)-san to fill in for us and she has readily agreed to take our place.”

(Y/n) gave Aoi a look, prompting the younger girl to pinch at (Y/n)’s side discreetly. A message to keep her mouth shut. Kanao simply blinked, twisting on the ball of her foot to dodge another one of Tanjirou’s lunges.

“Very well then, keep up (Y/n). I hope you still remember a thing or two about plants in that thick skull of yours,” Shinobu glided past (Y/n) to step out onto the engawa, “though I wouldn’t be too surprised if all of that knowledge fell out of your head along with your common sense.”

(Y/n) opened her mouth before shutting it firmly closed. Remembering that the younger girls were there and what Aoi had asked of her, she pursed her lips and silently fell into step beside the Hashira, walking with her to the nearby forest where the herbs they needed flourished.

“You recall what Aralia Cordata looks like, correct?” Shinobu asked once they were well within the trees.

“Yeah, kind of hard to miss that shrub if you know what you’re looking for.” (Y/n) groused.

“Fine, fine. Don’t come crying to me if you touch something poisonous.”

“I won’t. Won’t touch anything poisonous I mean. Because I know what I’m doing.”

“Are you telling me that or are you just trying to reassure yourself?”

(Y/n) chose not to reply, instead she split off from Shinobu to one of the shrubs in question and began harvesting a few leafy tendrils from it. Before long, her basket was filled and she turned just in time to see Shinobu turn back to her own bush, pretending to examine one of the tendrils she had cut.

“You know,” (Y/n) sighed as she stood back to her full height, “Aoi only made me come here in her stead because that fight we had last night got back to her. She expects us to make up.”

“Mm, I figured it was something like that,” Shinobu hummed, “I do believe that for once, she is too optimistic in that regard.”

“Well, you never did like admitting when you were wrong,” (Y/n) shrugged, “or saying you’re sorry. It’s comforting to know you haven’t completely destroyed your old personality.”

“And what exactly have I been wrong about, (Y/n)?” Shinobu’s forehead pulsed, “what exactly have I done that requires an apology?”

“You lie to everyone Shinobu. You hide behind plastic smiles pretending to be someone you’re not to fill a void. Saying your fine and shrugging everyone off while holding them at arm's length. When I tried to talk to you, you pushed me away and told me to leave. You were dismissive, cold.”

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around herself as if a chilling wind overcame her. Continuing on, she spoke lowly before Shinobu could speak her denial.

“Not to say that I don’t have my own fault in all of this. Even if I thought you really wanted me gone that night, I should have fought harder for you. I knew you were hurting, but I gave up and left anyway. That is something I’ve thought about a lot in our time apart and I regret it every day because you were worth fighting for.”

(Y/n) blew out a harsh breath of air, running a hand over her scalp she made her closing statement.

“If there was one thing you were right about last night, it’s that I’m a coward and I’m sorry that I didn’t try harder.”

(Y/n) chanced a look at Shinobu’s face. The Hashira’s eyes rounded and her mouth was ever so slightly agape. The silence hung in the air until a sweet wisteria breeze swept through the trees and (Y/n) cleared her throat and looked away.

“So if we could at least pretend to get along for the sake of the girls, I think Aoi would appreciate it.” (Y/n) added before reaching down to collect her basket. A sudden noise, like air being rapidly released through one’s nose, came from behind (Y/n) and she paused in her movements to glance back at Shinobu who was looking down at the leaf she was worrying between her fingers.

“I... apologize, for pushing you away in such a way that made you think you had to exile yourself. It was also cruel of me to say you didn’t care about us when I knew that you thought of this place as your home. I was trying to hurt you back and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.” Shinobu solemnly said.

Now it was (Y/n)’s turn to stare. Soon, Shinobu leveled a cocky smile and stood with her basket of leaves and a few other miscellaneous plants she gathered.

“Looks like you were wrong about my ability to apologize, hm?” She said.

“Shut up. Don’t ruin the moment.” (Y/n) smiled, reaching for her own basket.

The atmosphere surrounding the girls leaving the forest felt a lot more relaxed than it had upon entering.

***

Days turned into weeks and everything seemed so much better after. It was still awkward at times, but (Y/n) and Shinobu were finding their rhythm again. There was still a little hostility at times, but rather than avoid each other, they talked it out. It was almost frightening how in sync they were when they were working well together.

(Y/n) split her time between helping Shinobu with the slayers turned spiders and helping the younger girls train Tanjirou. She was elated by the boy’s progress as he finally managed to catch Kanao. She had noticed Zenitsu and Inosuke lurking nearby and gestured to the room. Now that they knew recovery training was possible and Tanjirou was leaving them in the dust, the rambunctious boys finally felt the need to catch up with their comrade’s progress.

Before long, the boys were well enough to continue the training on their own and (Y/n) found herself spending more and more time with Shinobu. They would spend hours talking or saying nothing at all, just enjoying each other’s company while they worked away on medicines and poisons.

It didn’t take long for (Y/n) to notice the difference. How Shinobu took up more than her fair share of space in (Y/n)’s thoughts. Even just catching sight of her across the garden was starting to make (Y/n)’s heart leap. On the occasion Shinobu would spot her she’d smile and wave, making (Y/n)’s heart stop all together before kicking into overdrive. The lingering touches and whispered words Shinobu would share with her as they worked in the lab certainly didn’t help either. Just when (Y/n) had thought they finally found their dynamic... Why was it changing again already?

(Y/n) was telling Naho, Sumi and Kiyo the story of how she met Tanjirou and Nezuko while she patted the demon’s head. Ever since Nezuko had woken up, the younger girls, though skittish at first, had grown to be fascinated and even enamored with her. As (Y/n) retold the tale, Nezuko humming happily at her side, Shinobu happened upon the group.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this session short. Tanjirou and the others are ready to get back out on the road now. Something about joining Rengoku-san on his next mission.”

“How did I not here about this plan sooner?” (Y/n) frowned.

“That’s a question best suited for Tanjirou to answer I suppose.” Shinobu replied rather emotionlessly, concerning (Y/n).

So while everyone else was getting ready to leave, (Y/n) pulled Tanjirou aside and asked him what was going on.

“I didn’t tell you we were leaving because I hope you’ll stay and continue to rebuild the relationships you have here, (Y/n)-san. I appreciate everything you’ve done for Nezuko and I, and now I hope to return the favor.” Tanjirou smiled brightly.

“And how do you figure you’re doing that?” (Y/n) crossed her arms.

“Because the longer you get to stay here, the more time you get to spend with Shinobu-san! I can smell that you two want to be together more now than ever.”

“You and your nose I swear,” heat radiated off of (Y/n)’s cheeks, “I think you have intuition and that sense mixed up.”

Tanjirou merely laughed in response.

“So, you guys think you’ll really be okay without me? You’ll stay out of trouble?”

“Don’t worry, (Y/n)-san! We’ll see each other again soon!” Tanjirou beamed.

(Y/n) smiled in return and they rejoined the send off.

“Where did Shinobu-san go?” Tanjirou wondered.

(Y/n) looked around and sure enough, the Pillar was nowhere to be seen.

“She must have had something urgent to attend to,” she answered, making a note to search for her later.

(Y/n) stood out in the garden until the loud group disappeared into the trees and their shouts could no longer be heard over the rustling of the leaves. She took a moment to stare out into the clear blue sky before returning inside.

(Y/n) was going to go look for Shinobu, but she wanted to go to her room to change her uniform first since Zenitsu had snotted all over it in his tearful goodbye.

She opened the door and was surprised to find Shinobu already inside. Shinobu’s back was turned to her as she quickly ran a sleeve over her face. She cleared her throat before facing back with a weak smile.

“(Y/n), forget something?”

“Huh?” (Y/n) blinked, still trying to process why Shinobu might have just been tearing up in her room of all places.

“The others must be ready to leave now. You better pick up what you needed so they don't have to wait too long.”

“They already left, Shinobu.” (Y/n) explained. “I hadn’t planned on going with them.”

“Oh.” Shinobu turned to look outside the window of (Y/n)’s room, hoping the blood that buzzed in her cheeks hadn’t burned its way to her ears as well.

“Shinobu, is something wrong?” (Y/n) tested.

“I just feel a bit silly now I suppose.” Shinobu admitted, bringing a slight smile to (Y/n)’s face with her honesty. “I thought you were gone again.”

“Well, I wouldn’t leave without a proper goodbye, not again.” (Y/n) came up beside Shinobu, intending to give her hand a comforting squeeze when she felt something other than skin instead. Looking down she saw her old butterfly clip in Shinobu’s hand, a quick look at the empty spot at her desk confirmed it.

Shinobu noticed that (Y/n) had noticed and rose the hairclip up between them with a subdued exhale.

“You know, every morning I wonder if it will be the morning you feel comfortable enough to wear this again.” Shinobu said, twirling the insect in her fingers. “When I thought you were gone and I saw this still sitting on your desk, it brought me back to places I’d rather not think about.”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) rested her hand over the back of Shinobu’s haori, “I just haven’t felt... I don’t know, worthy of it? I didn’t intend to make you feel bad.”

A small puff of air left Shinobu’s nose at the words. “It isn’t a matter of worth, it’s about whether or not you feel like you belong here again. Whether or not you’re comfortable here.”

“Agree to disagree.” (Y/n) joked. “But if it makes you feel better, I’m glad I get to spend more time here. I’ve been happier in these last few weeks than in the last few years.”

“I’m glad.” Shinobu watched a couple of butterflies flutter against the window before turning back to the garden. “And if you insist on it being a matter of worth, you are more than worthy. It’s not even a question to me.”

“Thank you.” (Y/n) simpered. Her breathing hitched slightly when Shinobu reached up to run her fingers through a loose lock of (Y/n)’s hair.

“Would you let me do your hair?” Shinobu asked softly.

“I’d like that.” (Y/n) whispered.

Shinobu guided (Y/n) back to the desk and sat her down on the chair. She freed (Y/n)’s hair from its plain hair band and quietly ran a brush through her locks with such softness that (Y/n) felt like she might fall asleep. Shinobu gathered the hair in her hands and styled it as she wished, clipping it together with the butterfly hair clip. Shinobu checked over her work, her hands resting on (Y/n)’s shoulders.

“You look perfect.” (Y/n) shivered. She hadn’t expected Shinobu’s lips to be so close to her ear. Neither had she expected the lips to ghost over her cheek in a light kiss.

“I just remembered I have a meeting I need to attend. You’ll help the girls with the infirmary won’t you?”

(Y/n) had almost forgotten how to speak but managed to pull it together. “Of course! I’ll, um, see you when you get back?”

“Perhaps,” Shinobu removed her hands from (Y/n)’s shoulders, “I won’t be back until late though.”

“Okay.”

A shy hug (in slightly awkward positioning due to the gross state of the Kinoe’s uniform, courtesy of Zenitsu) and Shinobu parted ways with (Y/n). (Y/n) met up with the girls in the infirmary and was almost immediately met with a chorus of cheers from Naho, Kiyo and Sumi when they noticed her hair. Aoi and Kanao smiled at the sight as well. A full day of caring for the infirmary made (Y/n) excited to finally get into bed for the night.

She awoke with a scream caught in her throat. Old demons had visited her in her sleep. As she worked to calm her heart, she noticed the light of the full moon streaming through her window. With a few more deep breaths she sat up from her futon and wrapped her haori around her shoulders.

Quietly exiting her room, she padded through the halls until she found her way to the kitchen, a smile pulled at her lips when she found Shinobu already there boiling water.

“Rough night?” Shinobu asked. She was also in her bed wear, her hair hanging loose from its usual style.

“Yes,” (Y/n) moved to stand beside her, “it’s been awhile since the last one I had.”

“How did you deal with that when you were on the road?”

“I would buy little sacks of tea leaves as I went. On bad nights or whenever sleep eluded me I’d boil up some water and try a new blend. Yours was always the best though.”

“I was already going to make you a cup, no need for flattery.”

“No flattery here. Just the truth.” (Y/n) swore, making Shinobu’s smile just a tad fuller.

Shinobu finished preparing the cups and as (Y/n) took hers about ready to leave, the Hashira asked her to wait.

“It’s a full moon tonight. Want to watch the stars for a moment?” Shinobu asked.

“I’d love to.” (Y/n) nodded.

The pair walked outside along the engawa until they had a pleasant view of the full brightness of the moon. They sat along the engawa’s edge, letting their legs dangle as they sipped their tea in the drowning noise of cicada and cricket songs.

(Y/n) chanced a glance at Shinobu in her periphery and marveled at how the moonlight highlighted her skin to the point where she almost appeared to be glowing. The way it reflected off of her eyes was absolutely enchanting. (Y/n) forced her attention back on the sky. Though beautiful it seemed to pale in comparison to the girl next to her.

As her eyes traced over the larger craters of the moon, she thought back on an old saying she had read at one of the inns she had frequented. An old, battered collection of pages that she read through when sleep didn’t come. She had read that particular work quite a few times.

She wondered if perhaps Shinobu had read it too. Though more likely the girl had her face buried in medical texts than anything else. (Y/n) then wondered, if perhaps she could get away with saying it. A confession without consequence, but on the off change that Shinobu was knowledgeable on the old text it could damage the progress they had made in healing their relationship. Perhaps it would be better to just enjoy the moment. (Y/n) took another sip of tea.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

(Y/n) nearly choked on her tea, spluttering and coughing as she tried in vein to stop herself. Finally she managed to calm down only to notice how intently Shinobu was staring at her.

Had she meant that literally? Shinobu was looking at (Y/n) so expectantly, but it could easily just be because she had nearly blacked out from inhaling her tea!

“...It is.” (Y/n) finally answered hiding her face in her cup, looking at neither Shinobu nor the moon.

Another long silence filled by the chirps of insects enjoying the humid night air. (Y/n) had finished her tea and set her cup to her right, her free hand that had been resting between Shinobu and herself was soon covered by a cool and calloused touch.

(Y/n) shyly turned her head to meet the Pillar’s gaze and jumped a bit when her nose unexpectedly brushed against Shinobu’s.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Shinobu repeated barely above a whisper. She was not pulling away.

(Y/n) felt her throat dry and she wished she had just one more swallow of tea left. With a slight quiver in her lips, she responded. Doing her best to stay focused on the purple irises before her.

“Yes,” she answered with a slight nod, careful not to bump head with Shinobu, “it is.”

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu called to her, cupping her face gently with the hand that wasn’t already resting on top of (Y/n)’s.

“Y.. yes?”

“Would you kiss me if I asked?” Shinobu murmured, filling (Y/n)’s senses with a dizzying wisteria scent. The slayer didn’t even try to talk herself out of answering such a query as the thumb of Shinobu’s hand swiped the corner of her lips.

“Yes.” She replied, nearly breathless already and her pupils blown wide.

“(Y/n), please kiss me.”

It was all too easy to lean in when they were already sitting so closely. The hand Shinobu had been using to cup her cheek weaved through the hair at the back of (Y/n)’s head, pulling her closer yet as their lips met a bit clumsily in buzzing, mind numbing bliss. (Y/n)’s free hand, the one not currently being clutched in a near death grip over the wooden floor, found home at the back of Shinobu’s neck, lightly massaging the skin there.

They broke apart a few times but the breaths they took were quick and few. Eventually they rested against each other while their abused lungs burned with a hunger for oxygen.

“I have wanted to do that for longer than I’d like to admit.” Shinobu quietly confessed, twisting a lock of (Y/n)’s hair though her fingers.

“Even when we were fighting?” (Y/n) joked, rubbing the back of Shinobu’s neck with her thumb.

“Strangely enough, yes. There were times when I thought about doing it just to shut you up. Though I didn’t dare allow myself to entertain the thought for long.”

(Y/n) chuckled and leaned in to steal another kiss, much less heated then the last few and much quicker as a chorus of surprised gasps made them pull apart and turn around.

“They kissed! They’re kissing!” Sumi cheered while Aoi tried to quiet her and push her back into the mansion.

Sumi and Kiyo emerged from the doorway that Shinobu had left open when she and (Y/n) first came out into the moonlight and were immediately hounding them for confirmation.

“We missed it! Do it again!” Kiyo pleaded.

“It’s like a fairy tale!” Naho cheered.

“You three!” Aoi grumbled with embarrassment. “Kanao, help me out here!”

Kanao looked between Aoi, the rowdy girls, then her sister and senpai, before settling on a nice golf clap of congratulations. This made Aoi lightly smack herself in the face and completely give up on trying to rein in the younger children.

“My, what are you all doing up I wonder?” Shinobu smiled.

“We wanted to watch the moon too Shinobu-sama! Aoi-san even made tea!” Naho clapped.

“But it’s clear you’re, busy, with something and we should go back inside.” Aoi rushed.

“Nonsense, it’s a lovely night. These things are best experienced with those you care about, don’t you all agree?”

“Yes!” Three excited voices readily agreed before wiggling in between the older girls with light blankets and their tea.

Aoi grumbled a half hearted reminder to be careful with the tea before sitting down beside (Y/n) with her own cup. Kanao took a seat beside Shinobu, lightly kicking her feet over the engawa as she started up silently at the moon.

They stayed up for hours, naming constellations, spotting shooting stars, and listening for the occasional loud croak of a far off frog in the thick of the cicadas and crickets.

Dawn wasn’t too far off when Naho, Sumi and Kiyo fell asleep. (Y/n), Shinobu and Kanao each picked one up and returned them to their rooms. Aoi gathered the discarded cups and helped with the doors before bidding the older girls goodnight, Kanao trailing behind her.

“What a lively night. I’m afraid chores will suffer tomorrow.” Shinobu mused as she walked (Y/n) back to her room.

“We’ll figure it out.” (Y/n) said, shyly brushing her hand against Shinobu’s and smiling when Shinobu laced their fingers together.

Once at (Y/n)’s room Shinobu raised (Y/n)’s hand to her lips with a smirk, planting a kiss on battle worn knuckles.

“This is where I leave you. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Why does that feel too long?” (Y/n) laughed quietly.

“I’m not sure, you’d think after four years of bitter silence a couple of hours would be a walk in the park.” Shinobu chuckled in return.

“I guess we just have a lot of time to make up for, huh?”

“Mm, that is a plausible line of reasoning,” Shinobu hummed, a spark growing in her eyes, “might I trouble you for one more kiss before I retire to my room?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

(Y/n) hardly got the words out before Shinobu was on her. Four kisses later and they pulled away with matching grins.

“I’ll see you in my dreams.” Shinobu added one last peck before pulling away.

“As will I.”

***

Well into the next morning (Y/n) awoke energized and ready to fight the world. She changed into a fresh uniform and pinned her hair with care, straightening the butterfly pin before rushing out of her room to begin her day with the young woman who had gifted it to her.

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oneshots #shinobu kochou #shinobu kocho #shinobu x reader #shinobu kochou x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #kny oneshots #kny x reader

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lunar-wandering · 3 years

Text

Delirium

@smallpwbbles happy birthday, take some delirious Wukong-

Word Count: 2k

Read on Ao3

MK paused in a mixture of shock, horror, and awe as he took in the sight before him.

Pigsy had his head in his hands, looking for all the world like he was totally done with the situation. Tang was standing beside him, trying to hide his increasingly obvious laughter. Mei had no such qualms, and was laughing out loud, practically on the verge of literally rolling around on the floor. Red Son stood next to her, holding up Mei's phone, which seemed to be recording, the fire demon trying desperately to look neutral to the situation, but a small smirk on the edge of his lips betrayed him, revealing his amusement. Sandy stood slightly off to the side, holding a blanket, ready to step in at any time.

And Macaque stood ramrod straight, appearing to be somewhere between 'embarrassed' and 'would somebody please strike me down already'- as Wukong leaned against him, saying a series of sloppily put together compliments.

MK took a deep breath, speed-running all five stages of grief in under an instant. (Possibly a new record for him.)

"I left. For five minutes." He said, taking note of how some places on the deck seemed to be dented, and was that smoke coming from over there? "How, exactly, did things end up like this?"

He received no answer, the others having jumped and turned to stare at him when he had spoken, having not noticed his return.

...Wait, where did Wukong-

"MK." Wukong said, and MK did his best not to jump as the delirious Monkey King appeared beside him out of nowhere and put a hand on MK's shoulder. "My, my dear su- ......succulent.....?"

"Successor." MK corrected, trying to ignore how the others were barely restraining their laughter. (Macaque, at least, looked somewhat sympathetic, but he also looked far more grateful for the fact that Wukong's attention had shifted away from him.)

"That's, yes. That's the word, yes." Wukong said, before grabbing hold of MK's cheeks, squishing them a little as he made sure MK was looking at him. "I am so proud of you."

"...Thanks?" MK said, questionably, pulling himself out of Wukong's grip. Wukong briefly glanced at his hands, seemingly confused as to where his successor had gone. "Monkey King- I'm right here. You should really be resting, until whatever this is gets out of your system-"

"Red Son!" Wukong exclaimed, the aforementioned fire demon making an audible noise of terror, slipping to hide behind Mei as Wukong spun around to face him-

Only to trip over his own two feet, slamming into the deck, denting it ever so slightly.

...For about the twenty-third time that day.

Sandy took this as his time to move forwards, gently laying the blanket down on top of Wukong, before announcing that he was going to try and make some more healing tea, (Wukong had dumped the first pot of it over the side of the ship, claiming that it was 'too bitter', 'wouldn't work anyways', and complaining that it didn't 'taste like peaches'), and the river demon left, going back down inside of the airship, leaving the others without his calming presence.

"...Okay guys, while Monkey King is....asleep..." MK wasn't even actually sure if Wukong was asleep, but he'd stopped moving and had become utterly silent since slamming into the deck, so- "I suggest we make it so that he doesn't hurt himself or us with anything on the ship."

"What, are you suggesting we should baby-proof the entire ship?" Pigsy asked.

"...More like 'Monkey King-proof', but yes, actually, that is exactly what I am suggesting." MK said, "We're going to need to cover all of our bases-"

"Uh, kid?" Macaque interrupted, grabbing MK's attention by lightly tapping on his shoulder. "If you're going to Monkey King-proof the ship, you uh, might want to start with the railing."

He pointed to the edge of the ship, and MK followed his gaze to see-

"Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me." MK said, just catching the barest, tiniest glimpse of Wukong, wearing the blanket around his shoulders like a cape, leaping over the side of the ship. "That's the fifth time he's done that today."

It wasn't all that hard to find him again. All they had to do was follow the destruction a delirious, overpowered monkey leaves behind.

Or at least, that was MK, Mei, and Macaque's strategy, up until they stumbled upon a perfectly normal, entirely untouched clearing.

"...What do we do now?" Mei asked, and Macaque made to give an answer-

Only to have to jump back, barely avoiding being impaled as Wukong suddenly appeared out of the surrounding woods, carrying a rather large tree. He had twigs, leaves, and dirt all throughout his fur. The blanket was seemingly missing, but neither MK, Mei, nor Macaque really wanted to find out where it had gone. The group of three took a cautious step back as Wukong locked eyes with them.

"Wanna see how up I can lift this tree?" He said, already lifting said tree above his head. (Everyone ignored how he'd seemingly forgotten the word 'high'.) MK and Mei shared a look as Mei slowly pulled out her phone, opening up the camera.

"I mean, we really shouldn't, but..." MK said, and Wukong beamed, shifting to hold the tree with one hand, taking the chance to show off. MK and Mei 'ooh'ed and 'awe'd appropriately, but Macaque rolled his eyes and looked away.

Which cause him to miss seeing the exact moment when Wukong's strength faltered, the tree falling upon the Monkey King's back, pinning him to the ground.

Macaque certainly didn't miss Wukong's screech of terror though.

MK and Mei had froze in shock, but Macaque reacted instantly, running over to the pinned monkey. The panicked mutters of "Not again, not again, please not again-" left little doubt as to what was currently going through Wukong's mind.

Macaque practically sent the tree flying in his rush to get it off of the other, and, not knowing was else to do when that didn't immediately quell Wukong's panic, flipped him over, desperately hoping that seeing the wide open sky, with no mountain in sight, would calm the Monkey King down.

And, well, it must've done something, as Wukong quieted, blankly staring up at the sky, without blinking.

"...Are you....okay?" Macaque asked, fearing that he had made things worse as he kneeled down beside him.

"...Have I... ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?" Wukong muttered, and Macaque paused.

"Ah- no. No." Macaque said, standing up. "No, we are not doing this again- MK, come get your stupid mentor, we're going back to the ship."

"MK- hey- hey kid-"

"What is it now, Monkey King?" MK sighed, tired. It had been unanimous that Wukong could no longer go even seconds without being supervised, and now had to be watched at all times. MK, unfortunately, had gotten the short end of the stick and had been chosen for the first watch, (They had drawn straws, and he had not missed the sighs of relief from the others, nor had he missed how Macaque had magically changed the length of the straws. He swore he'd get that shadow monkey back somehow), which of course meant that he was the first to have to put up with the delirious Wukong's complete and utter bullshit.

"Um- Would, do you think Macaque's fur tastes bitter like his rationality?" Wukong asked, from where he was laying on his back, on the couch, yet another of Sandy's blankets set on top of him. (They'd tried to cocoon him, but after enough protesting they'd given up on it for now).

"Wh-" MK started, confused, turning the sentence over in his head to make sense of it before responding. "...First of all, no, I think it would just taste like hair, second of all, did you mean to say personality?"

"....Yes...." Wukong said, slowly, before a wicked smirk came over his face, and MK felt fear settle into his bones. "Do you wanna see me make a hair buddy-"

"No!" MK yelled, and he may have lost all his powers, including his enhanced speed, but you wouldn't have known it from the way he practically flew to stop Wukong from blowing on his hair. "You are not going to be making any clones any time soon, okay? Monkey King I need you to look at me and confirm that you will not make any hair clones while you're delirious."

"...I will not make hair buddies while I'm serious." Wukong said, and MK sighed.

"Good enough, I guess." He said, sitting back down in his chair, slumping, momentarily closing his eyes in exasperation.

When he opened them again, Wukong was gone.

"Fuck-" MK said, jumping up and spinning around-

Only to see Wukong on the other side of the room, curled up on top of the other couch. He'd somehow gotten more blankets than before too, MK was certain there had only been two in the room before, but now there appeared to be at least seven.

MK didn't want to question where and how Wukong had gotten them.

What he would like to know though, was-

"...Why did you move to the other couch?" MK dared to ask, prompting Wukong to stick his head out of the pile of blankets he had buried himself in.

"Cause this one's more soft! The other one's too....too..." He seemed to blank on the word 'stiff', and instead said; "Boney. Boney couch. Bouch."

MK took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from breaking down then and there. It was, of course, at this moment, that he noticed Red Son try to sneak pass the open the door and down the hallway.

MK didn't let him.

"Red Son!" He said, rushing over (never taking his eyes off of Wukong), and looping his arm around the demon's. Red Son squeaked, but MK ignored it as he dragged him over to stand in front of Wukong. "Perfect timing, I think it was about time for me to have a little break, y'know? Would you mind watching him for me for a moment?"

Red Son was about to say no- but the look on his face, the look of someone who was oh so close to Losing It made him reconsider.

"...Sure..." Red Son said, slowly, "So long as it's only for a bit-"

"Cool! Thanks!" MK said, immediately letting go, turning and practically sprinting out of the room. "Good luck!"

Red Son had the ever looming sense that he had just doomed himself.

(He should have never accepted their offer to join them on the ship. But dammit, MK had offered some of that spicy candy he knew Red Son liked, and the fire demon just couldn't have refused.)

For a few blissful minutes, it was silent, Red Son staring at Wukong in apprehension, while Wukong hardly seemed to have noticed that anything had changed at all, still snugly wrapped in his nest of blankets.

And then Wukong lifted his head, a questioning expression on his face.

"...Does blue exist?" He asked, and a look that was somewhere between exasperation and pure terror made it's way onto Red Son's face.

"Noodle Boy, hurry up with your break and get back in here, your mentor's going existential!" He yelled, looking in the direction MK had gone, desperately hoping that the other would come back and save him from this fate.

"You can handle it!" MK's voice called faintly.

"...If blue doesn't exist......Then red doesn't exist......so does that mean you don't exist?" Wukong asked, under his breath, looking at Red Son with fear.

"I most certainly can not handle this!" Red Son yelled, "Could somebody please get over here?"

Nobody answered his call. Red Son honestly hadn't expected them to.

After all, he would've made the exact same choice.

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying to figure out how to respond to the monkey that currently seemed to be having an existential crisis.

Only to jump as he heard an ear shattering scream of frustration ring through the ship.

This had the fortune of snapping Wukong out of his crisis, instead having him simply look confused. Red Son ignored the faint shouts from Macaque's room (something about 'fuck you've got a serious pair of lungs' and 'warn a guy next time') as he tried to calm himself down from the sudden scare.

Geez. MK had seriously needed that break.

#Monkie Kid #fanfic #my writing #happy birthday!!

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something-fanfiction-ie · 4 years

Text

The Years

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: *SMUT* So you embarrass yourself in front of Derek and Spencer, the details of the case are mentioned and are a little intense, and smut. Like, rough, Spencer smut because there is nothing you can say that could convince me that Spencer Reid is a bottom. And swearing.

A/N: AH THE ENDING PROBABLY SUCKS BUT I TRIED REALLY HARD I PROMISE. Also, this is ridiculously long and not all of it is smut. For a hot second this WAS an OC story but I thought you guys would enjoy a self-insert more so I changed it. LOTS AND LOTS OF THANKS TO MY FAV FIC WRITER AND NEW TUMBLR FRIENDS, @reidmorefanfics and @pomsephone Y’all are the best. Also, remember to shower me in reblogs, comments, asks, messages, likes, and anything else you can think of to boost my ego. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND THANK YOU GUYS FOR READING!!!

___

“Actually, that reminds me of a joke that I know.” At the front of the crowded lecture hall, a young Dr. Spencer Reid looks over at his partner eagerly, a smile already splitting his lips apart. Derek Morgan, however, looks over at his partner with a mixture of fear and secondhand embarrassment.

“Reid, I don’t think-” Morgan tries to save him, he really does, but Reid tucks his hair behind his ears and ignores him by starting the joke.

“Einstein, Heisenberg, Newton, and Pascal are playing hide and seek. Einstein covers his eyes and begins counting. While Heisenberg and Pascal run off and hide, Newton takes out some chalk and marks a square on the ground with a side length of exactly 1 meter, then sits down inside the square. When Einstein is finished counting and sees Newton sitting on the ground, he yells, "Ha, I've found you, Newton!". Newton however replies, "No you haven't! You've found Pascal!’”

A short, surprised laugh joins Spencer’s small chuckles, dragging his eyes to the location the sound had come from. Derek looks too, completely taken aback that anyone other than Reid had actually understood the joke. Yet, lo and behold, a young girl sitting in the front row with her cheeks stoplight red and her hand nervously covering her mouth.

Proudly, Spencer nods for Morgan to end the talk, his chest a little puffed out and a smug smile twitching at his lips. They wrap things up quickly, eager to grab some food after leaving campus and before heading back to the BAU.

When Spencer turns to gather his things, grabbing his bag, he notices the soft shuffle of feet against the hardwood flooring of the stage. A pair of black converse peek into his peripheral vision, attached to a pair of long legs that make Spencer blush for noticing at all. Lifting his eyes further, he meets the shy gaze of the only person who had laughed at his joke. It came as no surprise when he sees that your tee shirt had a picture of a cat with the words ‘Wanted: Dead and Alive’ in block lettering.

“Dr. Reid,” Your left hand comes up to push a stray lock of hair away from your face, a single gold band wrapped around your left index finger, “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I just, uhm, I had a couple questions?”

Looping the strap of his bag over his head and letting the familiar weight of it settle against his hip before he responds, Spencer ignores the way Derek looks at him by pretending he isn’t there at all.

“Of course,” Spencer meets your eyes, which are a beautiful shade of (y/e/c). “I like the shirt by the way. I’m not usually much of a t-shirt person, but I might wear one like that.” You laugh, shifting on your feet and twisting the ring on your finger.

“Thank you, I got it as a Christmas present. Along with ten billion other nerdy t-shirts. But uhm, I was curious how old you were when you joined the FBI?” Morgan holds his tongue, pretending to shuffle papers around and not pay attention to the poor girl’s crush.

“I was twenty-two. I finished two of my doctorates the year prior.”

“I thought you had to be twenty-three? I’ve always wanted to join the FBI as soon as I could but I thought I had a little more time. That’s what I read anyways. I could be wrong, you would know more than I do.” You looked down at your shoes, kicking the toe of one converse into the wood, your hair falling forward over your shoulders.

“No, you’re right. I had an age waiver. You’re eighteen? Nineteen? You’ve still got some time to prepare.”

“I’m seventeen, actually.” Your lips skewed to the side, the confession barely above a whisper as you continued to stare at your feet. Spencer blanched, unable to contain his surprise. He was quick to school his features, though, when you finally looked back at him.

“You’re seventeen and you understood his joke?” Morgan couldn’t help but cut in now, stepping away from the table he’d been pushing papers around on and toward the two younger people left in the room.

“A pascal is a unit of measurement equal to one Newton per square meter. By sitting in a square meter, Newton was being one newton per square meter. Which is, again, equal to a pascal. So he was Pascal.” A smile had worked it’s way past the nerves that jumped around your body. You weren’t very used to talking to young, attractive, intelligent doctors who worked for the FBI.

“Although, even if I hadn’t understood the science behind the joke I might have still laughed. You see, there is this thing called the Halo Effect, which is basically a cognitive bias you might develop based on your initial impression of someone that can change how you feel about their specific traits. Essentially, one example would be that someone you find attractive may seem funnier or more intelligent simply because you find them attractive.”

It takes all of a second for your face to turn beat red as you realizes your nervous ramblings have made you reveal the silly crush you had started to develop on the young doctor. Derek’s lips purse in amusement when he sees the similar shade of red that has colored his partner’s cheeks.

“Not that I’m saying I find you attractive,” Your heart stops cold in your chest and you are quick to retract the statement. “Not to say you’re ugly either, because that’s not what I’m trying to say at all. Just that my first impression of you as a nice and attr- I mean, intelligent man could have very well made my amusement slightly biased because I was more willing to like you based solely on my first impression of you. Which was that you are very nice and, and intelligent.”

It takes all the willpower in the world for you not to throw yourself down the stairwell later that day, the embarrassment having barely faded even hours later. The two men had been quick to assure you they knew you weren’t saying you had a crush on Dr. Reid, but they were obviously just trying to protect your feelings. They wouldn’t be FBI Profilers if they couldn’t tell you had a crush on him. The conversation was pretty much over after that, you being suddenly desperate to make an escape and Dr. Reid just as eager to leave the campus grounds.

The whole team teased him about his teenage fan for months after it happened, Derek had been quick to let everyone know when they came back. Reid had tried to hide from them by scrunching down into his seat and covering his face with a book, but it hadn’t helped him at all.

Eventually though, both you and Spencer were able to move on from the embarrassing moment, though neither of you forgot it. Those moments where you’re all alone and the most embarrassing moments of your life come to creep up and embarrass you all over again? The memory always came back during those moments.

The team, however, seemed to forget about it, Gideon and Elle leaving and Rossi and Prentiss replacing them as the years faded the memory for them.

It wasn’t until JJ took her new position at the Pentagon and Ashley left after her brief consultation on the case in New Mexico that the memory came back to truly haunt you both.

The whole team had heard whispers of a ‘probationary agent’ that would be stepping in to assist wherever needed. Hotch was good at keeping quiet and avoiding questions on the matter, somehow keeping Penelope just as much out of the loop as the rest of the team.

No one was even sure when the new agent was supposed to be coming until the glass doors to the BAU opened and in stepped a young woman with (y/h/c) hair and (y/e/c) eyes. Derek squinted his eyes, your face tickling the back of his memory in a way that annoyed him. Spencer tensed, his eidetic memory quick to remind him of the seventeen year old girl that had basically confessed she thought he was cute, and then called him ‘not ugly’ to try and cover her tracks.

“Agent (Y/L/N), nice to finally meet you.” Hotch said, holding the door open as you nodded your thanks and slipped inside his office with a box in your arms.

“That must be the probationary agent.” Prentiss directed the comment at Reid, oblivious to the resurfaced embarrassment that boiled his cheeks to that same shade of red he’d been in that lecture hall seven years ago. He kept his book up in front of his face while he tried to cool his cheeks, looking over the top of the binding and into Hotch’s window.

You’re sitting ram-rod straight in the seat in front of Hotch’s desk that is closest to the door, your box of things clutched tightly in your white-knuckled hands. Your hair is still the same length, swaying at your shoulders. You’ve switched the Schrödinger’s cat shirt for a deep velvet red dress shirt with the sleeves rolled at your elbows.

But even with the obvious nerves displayed in your current body language, it’s easy to see you aren’t the same stuttering seventeen year old Reid remembers. You holds steady eye contact with Hotch, nodding and fluidly responding in such a way that the usually stoic unit chief actually breaks into a grin that dimples his cheeks. When he stretches over his desk for a handshake, your left hand comes up and grips Hotch’s firmly.

“I’m glad it’s a girl, it was starting to feel a little too testosteronie around here with JJ gone.” Garcia had made her way into the bullpen, a cup of tea balanced in her bejeweled fingers as she, and the rest of the team, size up the girl heading for Hotch’s door.

“I don’t think ‘testosteronie’ is a word, baby girl.” Derek teases, trying to ignore the nagging feelings that he knows this girl from somewhere. Maybe they’d met on a case? But no, that doesn’t feel right.

“It is now, Derek. Don’t argue with me or I’ll have to punish you.” She brings the lip of her cup up, sipping at the lukewarm tea still inside and patting Morgan’s cheek with her free hand. Hotch’s door finally opens again and you step out after Aaron.

A hush falls over the room, all eyes trained to the newest and now youngest member of the team.

“We’ll do introductions on the plane, for now I need everyone in the conference room for a case.” Hotch is quick to make eye contact with everyone, his gaze stern and demanding.

Spencer is the last one into the room, practically dragging his feet to one of the chairs around the circle table. Thankfully, you were sitting across the table. Somehow you haven’t seemed to notice him.

“Yesterday Dawes County police found the body of Julia Hastings along a hiking trail in Kladon. This is the second body they have found in the area in two weeks, the first belonging to Heather Greenaway. Both victims are in their early to mid twenties. Hands and feet bound, buried face down. Each victim was struck once in the back of the head, making cause of death blunt force trauma.”

From your spot at the table, you glance up with narrowed eyes as you open the file you’d been given at the beginning of the meeting.

“Where did they disappear from?” Reid asks, a connection forming in his brain as each picture and detail flies up from Garcia’s tablet and onto the projected pictures before them.

“Night clubs around the area, they were working on the night they each went missing. Both girls were bartenders, had been working at their new jobs a week before they were kidnapped.”

“Justin Millers had the same M.O., kidnapping new female bartenders fitting this exact victimology and holding them hostage for a course of five days, beating and raping them before eventually hitting them on the back of the head with a tire iron.” You don’t look up from the file as you speak, flipping through the pictures and quickly noticing the small odd similarities in the victims between this case and Millers’ case.

“Millers has been locked away for a year and a half.” Derek pointed out, using the opportunity to stare at the face of the girl he was sure he knew but still couldn’t place. When you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed in a way that reminds him of Reid and your head tilted just a little to the side, he can feel his brain grab onto the memory just before it slips back through his fingers.

“I’d guess a copycat. Something seems different, I just can’t put my finger on it.” Your gaze slides over the table, looking at faces to get a gauge of their opinions on you. When you make eye contact with Reid, your eyes widen just a little before you duck your head. You should have known he was still here at the BAU, you’d only hoped he’d went to another unit out of desperation for this job.

“We’ll look into that theory, for now I just want a profile as if this unsub is working from his own killing preferences. We’ll discuss more on the way there. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch stands, flipping the cover over the top of his iPad before making his way out of the room. Go bags are grabbed, certain persons avoid bumping into other certain persons, and then the eight hour plane ride to Kladon, Nebraska begins.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Emily tests the name on her lips, having chosen to move by the younger girl after the fourty five minute theory discussion that started the plane ride.

“You can call me (Y/N/N), that’s what my best friend calls me.” You had popped the first two buttons open of your dress shirt and slipped your shoes off to tuck your feet underneath you. Tucked between your thigh and the arm of the seat is a book with a Greek title, in your hands is the open case file.

“Just your best friend?” Rossi asks from across the way, just as curious about the new girl as the rest of them, but a little better at hiding it.

“She’s really my only friend.” You shrug, but not in such a way that you seem bothered by the fact. You reach up to push a strand of hair behind your ear. Reid notices the gold ring that still circles your left index finger, light coming from the window glinting off the metal when you move. It’s the only jewelry you wears.

“A bit of a loner?” Derek joins the conversation, moving up the aisle of the jet with a cup of something hot cradled in his hands. He takes the seat directly in front of you, blowing at the liquid in his cup.

“I was more focused on getting through school than making friends. Emma just happened to be the only person who wouldn’t let me shake her.” There’s a smile on your lips as you talk about your best friend, your eyes soft.

“What did you go to college for?” Derek is fishing, looking for something to tell him where he knows you from. It amuses Reid, who has sequestered himself into a corner a little further away from you than everyone else.

“I have a masters in philosophy, with a focus in Ancient Greek philosophy. I have a bachelor’s in Greek, which is the only other living language I can speak and read outside of English, and I have two doctorates; one in Classic Studies and one in Criminology.” Rossi whistles, shaking his head and leaning back into his seat to express what everyone else is feeling.

“You young people just keep getting smarter and smarter. You know how many doctorates I had at your age? None. You know how many I have now?” You look at him with genuine curiosity, drinking in all the information you can about the people around you like it was a class you were taking to survive.

“None.” The laugh that bubbles from your lips is infectious and carefree, it pulls Reid’s attention away from his book and it drags Hotch from the constant state of worry that he mentally paces in. Emily, Derek, and Rossi all exchange looks before their own laughter fills the air. It’s nice.

The feeling reminds you of that scene in Mary Poppins where Dick Van Dyke and Ed Wynn laugh themselves into the ceiling. So light and carefree that it could lift them into the sky.

“Why all the attention on the Greek?” Prentiss manages when the laughter subsides, reaching down for the book the young doctor has tucked away. Η φόνισσα, it reads with a black and white picture of arms twisted to the side of the bookcover. You make no move to grab for it, letting the other woman flip through the pages.

“My father was a Greek Philosophy professor before he died, I suppose it’s my way of trying to stay close to him.” Prentiss looks up from the pages, a look of sympathy in her eyes.

“And your mother?” The change in your entire demeanor is like cold water on the conversation, freezing the group in their spots. You reach for the book, tucking it back into the space between your thigh and the seat.

“I don’t know.” It’s the only blatant lie you’ve told since they started talking to you, averting your eyes and shifting in your seat. No one presses the topic, giving the new girl the space you need.

You take the case file with you when you go to make a cup of coffee in the small kitchenette situated in the back of the plane. Reid is already back there, pouring a steady stream of sugar into the otherwise black liquid.

“Dr. Reid.” You nod your head in greeting, avoiding his eyes by setting your folder on the counter and pretending to read it. You’ve been going over every detail of the case for so long that you’ve memorized everything there is to know. There are notes and theories scribbled into the margins and little sticky notes with questions scattered around the papers.

“It helps to step away for a little bit, that way when we land you come back to it with fresh eyes.” The utensils drawer clicks shut as Reid grabs a spoon to stir his coffee, risking the chance to finally look at you.

You’re twisting the ring on your finger and chewing the inside of your cheek. Without your shoes on, the top of your head comes to his shoulders.

When you look up at him, (y/e/c) eyes thoughtful and just as curious as the day they met, Reid can’t fight the urge that draws his gaze to your lips. The skin there is so very soft looking, surprising him when the thought of kissing them hits him like a train.

He clears his throat, focusing all of his attention on the coffee cup in front of him. The sugar is completely stirred in at this point, but he kind of wants to stay in the hopes that you’ll strike up a conversation.

“But everyone is different so you don’t have to listen to me, just do whatever helps you.” His shoulders lift in a shrug and he’s glad that nobody is there to see him interact with this girl. They would know how he felt before he could even come to terms with it himself.

As quickly as you are there, you leave. Completely flustered and unsure how to go about navigating a relationship that’s foundation was an unintentional love confession. Maybe, you thought as you leaned into your seat and closed your eyes, if I just ignore him then everything will be fine.

By the time the jet touched down in Nebraska, you had fallen into a dead sleep with your book sitting open in your lap. Emily was the one to reach out and gently shake your shoulder, the smile on her face gentle and motherly. Still blinking away sleep, you quickly scrambled to grab your bag and book before rushing for the exit.

Unfortunately for you, the shoe laces on one of your shoes hadn’t been completely tied. Add that to the speed in which you were trying to separate yourself from Reid, and you managed to trip over your feet and right into the person you were trying to avoid.

Your bag hit the ground, the book following suit as a warm hand grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled. When you collided with someone’s chest, you didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Reid smelled like old books, laundry detergent, and cinnamon.

“Your shoe is untied.” He said, his voice rumbling in his chest. You didn’t look up, afraid the heat in your cheeks would give you away. You looked down instead, noticing the way your feet were inside the breadth of his stance. One shoe’s laces laid precariously around your foot as if mocking you. Quickly, you took a step away and almost tripped again on your bag. You caught yourself on one of the seats, holding a hand out to keep Reid from grabbing you again.

“Thank you, I’m okay. Really.” You didn’t meet his eyes, every lewd thought you’d had during that stupid lecture about his lips and hands and hair came rushing back at you with every glance. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could see each fantasy written on your face like a lusty, ten-cent romance novel.

Morgan, having stopped to watch the two doctors in your clearly flustered states, suddenly felt it click in his brain. Sure, you were older and not as squirrelly as he remembered, but the way you were looking at his partner was nearly the exact same as you had seven years ago.

Feeling smug for finally figuring it out, he walked up to Spencer with his bag thrown over his shoulder, stopping beside him as they both watched you rush for the exit.

“Can you imagine someone having a crush on you for seven years? Oh, wait.” Bending down to grab his bag, Spencer shook his head in such a way that a few loose curls tangled on his eyelashes. A simple sweep of his hand across his face helped to push it away.

“It took you long enough to figure it out.” Spencer took the lead, dreading the car ride with Derek to the medical examiners. He had been hoping his older partner wouldn’t remember who you were, at least, until the case was solved.

“Oh ho ho, don’t think you can avoid this conversation with insults, pretty boy.” Morgan was hot on his tail, and that was exactly where he stayed for the next three days that the team was in Nebraska.

The killer was, in fact, a massive fan of the infamous Justin Millers. It was just a matter of pinpointing which of the crazy fanatics he was, which might have been easier if the local populace was more open to talking to law enforcement.

It was by a brilliant stroke of luck, or rather misfortune, that the team realized sending you undercover would help on many different levels. Not only did you fit the victimology, (all they needed to do was get you a ‘job’ at one of the local bars) but you would also be able to get information from the civilians that were unwilling to talk to the FBI.

Four days into your undercover mission, you found yourself wiping down the counter after closing. The band was packing up their equipment on stage and your boss had already left. Laily, the only other bartender here tonight, was flirting with the drummer while you closed things up behind the counter.

As was customary, the members of your team had taken turns following you around everyday just in case anything happened. Today just so happened to be Spencer’s turn, you’d managed to slip him into the back room before all the customers had left for the night. It was the only reason you gave Laily the okay when she asked if you would be cool closing by yourself tonight.

“I can’t believe after five years of college, I’m back to bartending.” You grumbled, shouldering the backroom door open with a box full of beer in your hands. Spencer jumped up from the crate he’d been leaning against, holding the back of the door open so you could get in a little easier.

“You were a bartender before?” He asked curiously, trying to ignore the way the low-cut black uniform shirt you were wearing fit against your figure and twisted his insides. Factor in the tight jeans that hung on your hips and the sheen of sweat on your skin from the hot summer night and he could barely focus, let alone protect you from any possible threats.

“The years between my college graduation and my joining the FBI, yeah. I could have done something different, I guess, but I wanted to have a normal young adult job before I spent the rest of my life chasing serial killers and such.” You turned to face him, actually meeting his eyes for the first time this week.

Unlike you, he was wearing his FBI Kevlar. The navy blue tie that he wore was tucked into the top of it, the baby blue sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up around his elbows. You, yourself, were having an awful time trying to keep from getting all kinds of flustered just looking at him.

The young profiler you remember was all wiry and clean cut, the man in front of you is more scraggly. His hair curls around his jawline and his forearms are far more attractive than anybody’s forearms ought to be.

His parents were just showing off, casually bringing a child into the world that looks like that.

“I don’t want things to be weird between us.” He blurted, surprising himself. You could tell by the way his brows dipped down and he took a step back immediately after saying it. Even his cheeks were a little pink.

“What happened between us was like seven years ago and all you did was tell me you had a crush on me. And then take it back. I just don’t want it to affect our work relationship because everyone already likes you a lot and I want to get the chance to like you as well.” For someone who always seems so very shy and awkward, his eyes look directly into yours, narrowing just a little. His tongue pokes out from between his lips and turns all of your bones to jelly underneath you.

He just ages like fine wine and you know that, should you be offered a permanent position at the BAU, that you would have to spend the rest of your working days keeping yourself in check while the man in front of you continued to evolve into a more gorgeous version of himself every year. The Spencer you remember had felt like peak Spencer, now this Spencer felt like peak Spencer, but who is to say that five years from now, when he decides to grow a little stubble and style his hair differently, that he wouldn’t somehow get even more attractive?

You open your mouth to come up with some bullshit answer that you didn’t really mean in order to smooth things over, when the door opens again. Spencer, standing directly infront of said door, looks not unlike a deer caught in the headlights of a truck barreling right at him going way too fast on a backroad.

Time crawls at an unusual pace, the door slowly creaking open and Laily’s voice filtering in the opening. Why did he have to wear that stupid vest? Surely the FBI has bullet proof vests you could wear under your clothing. The only idea you could come up with was, honestly, not a very good one. But it was the only one you had.

Practically launching yourself across the room, you catch Spencer’s lips against your own like the world depends on it. Using your own hands, you position Spencer’s arms around you with one hand on the back of your head and the other grabbing underneath your leg that hooks around his waist. The vest uncomfortably digs into your chest with how close your bodies are against one another, your arms now thrown around his neck, but if he keeps kissing you like this then you’ll be inclined to ignore it.

Just seconds ago he had been begging you to have a normal relationship despite your silly ‘past’ crush, now his tongue was fighting for dominance in your mouth. The irony was not lost on you.

“Oh.” Laily gasps a little when she sees you in such a compromising position. The lights from the bar illuminating every detail so that she could see the way Spencer’s fingers desperately tangled in the strands of your hair or how the muscles in his forearm strained as he hungrily pulled your body even closer than before.

The blush on your cheeks and neck are real when you pull your lips away, fire erupting in the pit of your stomach when Spencer catches your bottom lip in between his teeth for just a second. The look in his eyes is devilish when you tilt your head over your shoulder to meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry Laily, this is my boyfriend, Lance. I just- I heard about all those girls that have been going missing and I asked if he would drive me home.” The look in your coworkers eyes is all you need to know that this does not look like just a ride home. Although, it very well could have led to a ride somewhere if she had been just a handful of minutes slower.

“Nice to meet you, Lance. Gwen, I’ll see you tomorrow. Just,” the mischievous twinkle in her eyes does not go unnoticed by the two doctors in the room still tangled around each other, “maybe clock out before things get anymore heated.” She teases, the tone of her voice suggesting that you will be hearing more of this tomorrow.

“Bye, Laily!” The door clicks shut behind her, followed by the chuckles and giggles of Laily and the band as they leave for the night. You relax into Spencer’s arms, moving as if to pull out of them before they tense around you.

“We should be safe now.” You whisper, looking up into his eyes that burn with an intensity you’ve never seen in them before. That damn tongue sweeps across those perfect lips again, drawing your attention and reminding you that you now know what they feel like locked with yours.

“I think I hear somebody coming.” He whispers back, aware that you can both hear the soft bang of the front door closing and locking shut from the outside. Since the killings, the door was always locked if employees were still inside, as a safety precaution. Nobody else was coming in tonight unless they had a key.

Your lips meet his anyways, too tired to pretend that the heat between you wasn’t there. If this was the excuse he needed to kiss you, then you were all the more willing to give it to him. His tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, causing them to open against his mouth and deepen the kiss.

Both of his wide hands splay against your hips, curling into the soft skin there and pulling you toward him with such force that you nearly trip. The hard edges of his Kevlar vest dig into your ribs and collarbone, the rough material scratching against your exposed skin as you push yourself up on your toes. When he breaks from the kiss, both of you gasping for air not from the length of it by from the passion, it is not to end your tryst.

His lips find the pulse at your neck, sucking a bruise at the soft skin there and pulling a moan from deep within your chest.

“Won’t- Won’t Morgan and Prentiss get worried,” your brain feels like the motherboard of a computer that Spencer has taken into his hands and slammed into a countertop, you can’t think when his teeth nip a love bite to the hickey he’s made on your neck, “if we, uhm, we take too long?”

If you thought the Spencer you met seven years ago was different from the Spencer you knew now, it was only because you’d never seen his bright hazel brown eyes darken with lust from beneath those impossibly long golden lashes. He was a completely different person as he unstrapped himself from the Kevlar, laying it on the floor with a solid thunk before gathering you back into his arms.

“They’ll be okay,” He said in between kisses trailed along your jawline. His movements are confident as he dips a hand down the front of your jeans and into your underwear. Your arms tighten around him, pulling your face into the crook of his neck when his fingers find the already wet entrance to your sex. His answering growl does nothing to keep you from coming undone as he presses the pad of his thumb to the bundle of nerves there. “I’m guessing it won’t be long before I have you in the palm of my hands, anyways.”

You rock your hips into him, your eyes fluttering shut with a gasp when he thrusts two long fingers inside of you. His other arm is wrapped around the center of your back, holding you to him because lord knows you can’t be trusted on your own two feet at a moment like this.

“Is this why you planned on ignoring me? Because you wouldn’t be able to handle it if I didn’t give you this?” You whimper a response, too focused on the relentless pace he has set with his fingers to come up with anything coherent. Everything about the moment is raw and animalistic, every fantasy you’d had about him during the fifty minute lecture did not even begin to touch on the feeling of his hand actually inside of you.

“Spencer, please.” You whined, dropping your arms from his shoulders and gripping onto his biceps like it will keep your soul from leaving your body. Yet, as heavenly as this felt, and as much as it exceeded your fantasies, you wanted more. Every part of you craved the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, sticky with sweat and feverish to the touch.

On a tight time constraint, Spencer doesn’t make you beg anymore than that. Instead, he delights in the way you cry out when he pulls his hand out of your pants and up to his lips. Your own lips part with a tiny popping sound when you watch him put those same fingers into his mouth with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Strip.” He commands, licking the taste of you off his lips and leisurely working at the knot of his tie. You don’t waste a second in crossing your arms over your body to pull the black material over your head and drop it at your feet. Next to come off is your shoes, clattering across the wooden floor when you kick them to the side.

By the time you make it to your pants, Spencer has only undone a quarter of the navy blue buttons on his shirt.

“I need you now, Spencer.” The buttons slip through your fingers, your hands shaking with excitement more than nerves. Although, the nerves are definitely apart of it. Never in a million years did you think you would be here; in the backroom of a bar in Nebraska, with Spencer Reid doing salacious things to you. While on your first case with the BAU, nontheless.

Doing a complete one-eighty, his hands come up to cover your own just before the last button comes undone. His touch is gentle and prompts you to look up into his coffee colored eyes. The light from the single bulb dangling from the ceiling is no good, and yet somehow he manages to look like a piece of artwork painted by the most skilled hand known to mankind.

“We don’t have to do this here. We don’t have to do this at all, if you don’t want to.” You squint your eyes up at him, using your fingernail to pop the last button through the hole on the other side of the shirt. When you let go, the pieces fall away from his chest like he’s caught in slow motion on a Calvin Klein commercial.

“I said I needed you now, not later.” In response, he scoops you into his arms and wraps your legs around his hips. The electricity that pops and crackles between you is nearly visible in the dimly lit room, the fabric of your bra skimming against his collarbone when you breath.

The little whines and whimpers that fall from your lips are driving Spencer crazy, forcing him to push through the door and lower you to a shorter countertop meant for making drinks. Tonight it would be used for other, more wicked things.

“Someone’s a bit excited.” You breathed. There was no way you could take a full breath in a moment like this. Everything was so heated and yet nothing was really happening.

“Shut the fuck up.” And then he was kissing you, his lips warm against your own. Despite the fact that you didn’t think it was possible, he pulled you closer. You knitted your fingers into his curls and gave them a slight tug. God, you loved these curls.

He began sucking a heated trail down your throat, quite possibly leaving a pathway of hickeys. You would be putting makeup over them for at least thirty minutes before you left your hotel room tomorrow, but for now they were heavenly fire against your skin.

Spencer took away his lips long enough to strip from his remaining clothes and throw them over his shoulder. When he stood in front of you looking like a Roman god, bared to no one but yourself, it made you feel like the luckiest person alive.

“I’m so in love with your body.” He groaned just before his lips found your breast, sucking on your nipple. Your head fell back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You fumbled for a moment, patting around the countertop before your brain turned on long enough to get your hand between your legs and down to his naked erection.

He moaned into your breast as you began to move your hand. He let go of your boob and went straight back up to your mouth. His whole body was tensed up but his lips were soft as they parted against against your lips. The whole world felt like it was on fire, and his every touch was another lick of flames.

You move your hand faster, enjoying every groan and grunt and moan that finds it’s way out of his mouth and into yours. He’s already close to orgasm, you can tell by the way he breaks from the kiss, your foreheads pressed together and your breath stirring in the small space between your faces. His grip is tight when he grabs your wrist to make you stop.

“No.” Every nerve and thought and feeling was consumed by you and everything else short-circuited. Spencer couldn’t get the words out of his mouth to properly express what he wanted, it wasn’t often that the young genius was rendered speechless.

But you knew, you knew that he wanted to be inside of you. You knew that because you wanted him inside of you just as much, if not more, than he did. You shift your hips around on the counter, getting closer to the edge as you widen your legs.

“I’m on the pill.” You whisper, watching the sudden realization that he hadn’t come prepared widen his eyes for just a small fraction of a second. Just as quickly, the fear turns into that devlish grin you weren’t aware someone so beautifully shy and awkward could possess.

“Thank you, Pincus, Sanger, and McCormick.” You barely have time to question the comment, although later you’ll realize he’s probably talking about three of the minds behind the invention of the birth control pill. No longer taking his time, Spencer positions himself right at your entrance before running the tip of his cock along your wet folds.

“Fuck!” He slams into you, running his entire length into your body, hitting depths you didn’t even realize had never been touched until he was thrusting against them. It sends a wave of pleasure through every cell in your body as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him like you’re running out of oxygen.

He holds onto your hips as he repeatedly rams his hips into yours. He has buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting every curse and moan muffle into your skin. The glasses under the counter jangle with every merciless thrust inside you. The sharp bite of his nails digging into your hips makes you hiss, but it’s more from pleasure than pain.

There’s no dirty talking anymore. Every ounce of pretend you both go through while around one another is shed like seconds skins, leaving two people so hungry for each other that it had been too much to bare.

Your fingers are twisted around the short curls at the nape of his neck and your teeth are biting into the solid muscle at his shoulder. The bar always had whiffs of sex and sweat in the air that mixed with the smell of alcohol and perfume, but now it was the strongest scent in the room.

Even as your orgasm starts to build in your belly, you want more. You want to hold him so close that your brain wouldn’t be able to distinguish where you ended and he began. Letting go of his shoulder, your head lolls back and your own nails draw long lines of red down his neck.

“Spencer!” His name leaves your lips in a mix of a sob and a moan, the ecstasy of just his touch alone driving you higher and higher. The sting of his nails leave your hips, one hand reaching to the place where your connected and the other coming up to grip your jaw in his hand.

His thumb rubs against the little button of pleasure that causes your legs to start to tingle like they’ve been asleep for too long. All the while, he ruthless pace doesn’t falter. Sweat sticks a few of his curls to his temples, providing a beautiful glowing effect across the smooth planes and angles of his shoulders and collarbones.

He leans forward to catch your lips in a kiss that ends much too quickly for your taste, but you can feel the rapid exhalation of his breaths as it fans across your cheek.

“Come.” Usually a man of so many words, you had always assumed it would be the same in his sex life. Maybe it was true in most cases, but right now his desire to see you succumb to the pleasure of him inside of you outweighs the need to taunt and tease you with words.

Meeting his eyes, getting off on the smug look that twists his lips as much as you are getting off on his dick actually inside of you, you let yourself fall into the sweet release of your orgasm. Spencer doesn’t stop as you come around him, instead he quickens the pace as his own release works its way to the edge.

Your legs are still shaking when he buries himself into you with one final thrust, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He chases the sting of his teeth away with the softness of the kiss that follows, loosing himself in the aftershocks of your own orgasm.

Neither of you move, although he ends the kiss to gasp for air with your foreheads once again pressed against each other. His eyes are closed, the dark pink on his cheeks and neck making him look so much younger than he was. You keep your eyes open, trying to drink in every second and commit it to your memory the way it would forever be in his.

When he steps away, leaving you feeling much more empty than you’d felt in a really long time, the cocktail of your orgasms spill down the inside of your thighs. Suddenly feeling a bit self conscious, you slip off the counter with your arm wrapped around your bared breasts.

The air seems too cold, the bar too quiet, and your mind was too loud with insecurities as you tried to steady yourself on wobbly knees. Nevertheless, you attempt to make a beeline for the backroom door. If you go and put your clothes back on then maybe you could go back to pretending like he doesn’t exist and everything will be fine.

That is until one of those solidly handsome arms come out to stop you in your pursuit of denial.

He’s still naked, standing next to you like a statue carved by the hands of Michaelangelo himself. Although, you aren’t sure the renissance artist would sculpt nail marks into his skin, the signs of your heated escapade only darkening with time. You can only imagine what your own neck looks like, several spots of sensitive skin still overly stimulated from his wandering mouth.

From your vantage point, you can see his swollen lips open to say something, probably that this had been a mistake, when his phone rings from the pair of pants he’d so carelessly thrown to the floor earlier. A small frown mars his angelic features, the side of his mouth twitching with aggravation.

His lips on yours are a surprise you weren’t expecting, despite the sexual encounter you’d just had. This kiss speaks more words than he could ever possibly say, easing all the post-coital dysphoria that comes with the sudden fall from the high you’d been on. It’s gentle and warm, the hand on your arm squeezes reassuredly before he breaks away with one last peck to your forehead. It nearly tears your beating heart out of your chest.

“Come to my hotel room later.” And then he bends down to snag the phone from his pants with an aggravated growl, turning away from you as he lies through his teeth to a worried Prentiss on the other end.

In the backroom, having shimmied back into your pants and going to put your shirt back over your head, you fingers find your lips. They’re just a little swollen, exactly like his, but you wonder if he can still feel that final kiss against them the way that you could.

Oh boy, were you in trouble.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spence reid #dr spence reid #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds #criminal mind imagine #criminal minds smut #smut

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Pick Up The Pieces

Opie Wintson x F!Reader

Request by Anon: Opie being gutted when he finds out Lyla doesn't want more kids, cheats on her with his best friend who actually turns up preggo. I feel like it could be a angst, smut, fluff combo. Idk thank you!

Warnings: language, angst, cheating, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, pregnancy, (this really really has it all my friends)

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: While it is usually against my moral code to inflict pain on my lumberjack husband, I got pretty into this. I hope this is what you had in mind! xo

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SOA Taglist: @garbinge @chibsytelford @mayans-sauce @adela-topaz-caelon @masterlistforimagines @mijop @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @kkim120 @multiyfandomgirl40 @everyhowlmarksthedead @toni9 @unicornucopia-fuckers @shadow-of-wonder (If you want to be tagged just let me know! xo)

You heard the knock at the door and you instantly became confused. It was late on a Friday night and your place wasn’t exactly known for being a party spot. Case in point, you were bundled up in a fluffy bathrobe with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine while watching He’s Just Not That Into You for the millionth time. You tightened the belt of your robe as you stood up and made your way to the door.

Looking through the peephole, you see Opie standing on the other side of your door. It was too dark to get a good look at his expression, but if he was showing up by himself on a Friday night you had to assume that he wasn’t in the best of shape.

Unlocking the door, you opened it and greeted him with a soft smile, “Hey, Ope.”

He didn’t even have it in him to muster a smile, “Hey. Sorry to just show up like this.”

You shook your head as you gestured for him to come inside, “No need to apologize. My door is always open for you,” you shut and locked it once he came inside, “What’s going on?”

Opie towered over everyone, yourself included, but he looked so small as he stood in the middle of your living room. His head hung low, his shoulders slumped, and you could see the defeated look on his face. You stepped in and hugged him, pressing yourself tight against his chest. His arms looped tight around you and rested the side of his head against yours. You felt his chest rise and fall slowly as he took one deep breath after another, trying to keep it together.

“You can talk to me, you know,” you stayed leaning against him, “Did something happen?”

There were a million different things that it could be. The club had been a mess lately, you knew that things with him and Lyla had been rocky, and then there was the hot mess express that was his family. There were a lot of different things to choose from, you just wondered what had him in such a hurt place.

“Shit with Lyla,” he mumbled against your hair.

You sighed quietly, disappointed but not surprised. You had no problem with Lyla—she seemed like a sweet woman. She was a good friend to the club and she was good with her kid and Opie’s. But you always had the feeling that Opie was trying to fit a square peg into a round hole with her. He wanted things to work but he also wanted her to change, which wasn’t fair to either of them.

“What happened?”

“She doesn’t want kids. Never bothered to fuckin’ mention it,” he shook his head, “Lied about being on birth control.”

You couldn’t hide your surprise. Usually, women who hooked up with the guys lied about being on birth control meaning they said they were on it when they weren’t, not the other way around. But it really shouldn’t have surprised Opie, especially given Lyla’s line of work.

“I’m sorry,” you told him.

He shook his head, “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. You told me from the jump that it wasn’t going to work.”

You pulled back from him, “That’s not what I said. I said it was going to take some work.”

His laugh was hollow, “Right.”

You let your arms drop back to your sides, “Take your boots off, stay awhile. I’m only like twenty minutes into my movie if you wanna join me.”

He looked at the screen and instantly knew what you were watching, which he hated admitting, “You never get tired of this one, huh?”

You shook your head, “Nope,” you walked to the kitchen and grabbed a second wine glass, “I don’t have any beer. Wine alright?”

He chuckled and nodded, “I’ll take whatever you got.”

You walked back over to the couch and sat down next to him, handing over the glass as you did. He picked the bottle up off the coffee table and poured himself a generous glass, immediately taking a long drink out of it. You were so used to seeing Opie with either a beer bottle or a shot glass in his hand that it was a bit of an amusing switch-up to see him sipping on Moscato.

“You wanna talk about it?” you’d been friends with Opie long enough to know that sometimes he just needed to brood about things for a bit before having a discussion about them. You still always offered the option, though.

He shook his head, “No.”

“Wanna watch Justin Long get his world turned upside down with me?”

He chuckled, nodding, “Sure.”

You leaned onto his side as you pulled your feet up underneath you. It had been a while since the two of you had gotten to spend some quality one-on-one time with each other. You wished that it hadn’t been brought on by him being so upset, but nonetheless you were glad that he still considered you someone that he could lean on.

“Thank you,” he said after a few minutes of silence, draping his arm around your shoulders.

You nodded, “Of course. Listen, I have movie night here with myself every Friday night. You’re always invited.”

He chuckled, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You felt him press you tighter against his side, “I really am sorry, Opie.”

He sighed, “It is what it is. Just gotta…pick up the pieces I guess.”

You turned and looked up at him, and despite the fact that he sounded calm and collected, you could see it in his eyes how hurt he was. He’d always been a family man. In your eyes, he was a family man who got put in the wrong life, but there was nothing to do about that now. He was being forced to juggle it and figure it all out. Learning was tough.

“You’ll figure it out,” you nodded as you reassuringly rested your hand on his chest, “You always do.”

Behind the tears and underneath the sadness, you could see something else in his eyes. You ignored it, not wanting to make a bad situation worse. You pulled away, clearing your throat as you poured yourself another glass of wine. You offered the bottle to him, and he gladly accepted it and refilled his glass.

You found yourself curled comfortably against his side again, pretending not to notice that his hand had slid down to rest dangerously low on your hip. You could feel the slight pressure of his fingertips through the fluff of your robe. You fought to stay focused on the movie but it was difficult when you could feel him staring down at you.

“Something you wanna talk about?” you finally asked.

Despite the look in his eyes, he shook his head, “No.”

“You sure?”

You saw his eyes dart down and look at your lips, and instantly the heat began to rise in your face. You knew that he was just lost and hurting, and that you were just full of liquid confidence, but part of you was telling you that it wouldn’t be the end of the world. If there was anyone you could maintain a friendship with after a hookup, it was Opie, right?

“You’re beautiful.”

You chuckled, trying to pretend that you were less flustered than you really were, “And you’re full of wine.”

He reached out and cupped your chin when you went to turn away, forcing you to look at him, “I mean it,” his hand slid up so that it was resting on your cheek.

You placed your hand over his, “This isn’t what you need right now, Ope,” it killed you to say it but you knew that it was true.

“Please,” it was the most broken you’d heard his voice sound in a while.

That, and the look in his eyes, wiped away what little self-control you had left. You gave him a slight nod and he instantly leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. You’d imagined kissing Opie a thousand times, even if you didn’t want to admit it, but it never went quite like this. It was desperate, like he was trying to fill a void, and you let him try. His hands cupped either side of your face and you reveled in the feeling of the roughness of his hands against the soft skin of your cheeks.

His hands dropped, gripping onto your hips and maneuvering you so that you were straddling his lap. You kept your lips pressed to his as you tore the beanie off his head, letting his hair fall down to his shoulders. You raked your fingers through it as you bit down lightly on his bottom lip, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you.

He pulled his lips off of yours, letting them slide down to your neck. You tilted your head back to give him better access, a soft moan escaping your lips as he began to untie the belt of your robe. He pushed it down off your shoulders and let it drop to the floor. He drank in the sight of you in nothing but your bra and underwear, hands exploring all of the newly exposed skin that he had access to.

You lifted the bottom hem of his shirt, tossing it off to the side. You gawked at his tattoos, the muscles that flexed throughout his chest and shoulders. You’d seen him without a shirt on countless times, but being able to look and being able to touch were two completely different things. You lightly traced your fingers along the tattoos that covered his skin, but your admiration time was cut short as he pulled you into another needy kiss, reminding you what this was all really about.

His tongue ran along your bottom lip as he pulled your panties to the side, tracing one finger along your folds. You shuddered and moaned into his mouth at the contact, wordlessly begging him for more contact. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he slid his finger into you, moaning at how wet you already were.

You bit down hard on his bottom lip as he slid another finger in to join the first. You hungrily moved against his hand, desperate for any and all contact. His other hand rested on the back of your neck, making sure that your lips stayed attached to his. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body as his grip on you tightened slightly.

You pulled away, hands instantly going to the buckle of his belt. As soon as it was undone Opie lifted his hips off the couch just enough to push his jeans and boxers down below his knees, letting them pool by his ankles on the floor. He gripped back onto your hips and pulled you closer, situating you so that you were right over him. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his as he pushed himself inside you, both of you moaning at the sensation.

Not wasting any time, you began to move your body against his. It was messy, desperate, but the two of you didn’t need anything more than that. His nails dug into your back as you mindlessly tugged at his hair. He swallowed your moans as his nails raked down your back, your hands roughly cupping his face as he did.

How years had gone by without you two ending up in this position until now was beyond you. But as your hips moved against his you knew that you’d dug yourself into a very deep hole that you didn’t know if you would be able to get yourself out of. You didn’t want to go back to how things were before this, regardless of how you ended up getting here in the first place.

Your anxieties were drowned out by the sound of Opie moaning your name, fingertips digging hard into your hips. You cursed under your breath as he bit down on your neck, sucking a dark mark into the skin there.

“Fuck, Opie,” you gasped, “I’m gonna cum.”

He let out a low growl as he gripped harder onto you, hands sliding down do your ass and speeding up your movements. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the sound of his name filling the house as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs trembled beneath you as you blindly grabbed onto his shoulders to support you.

His voice was raspy as he tried and failed to get out at least one coherent sentence, “Fuck, I’m gonna, where…”

“Fuck it,” you pressed your lips hard against his for a moment, “I’m on the pill. Doesn’t matter.”

Moments later you felt him pull you as close as possible as he finished inside you, moaning and biting down hard on your shoulder as he did. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, fighting to catch his breath as he wrapped his arms tight around your middle. You leaned your head against his and lightly carded your fingers through his hair. His chest rose and fell against yours and you soaked up the contact, knowing in the back of your mind that you weren’t going to have it for long.

He stayed the night with you, and it was more of the same. You knew he was just trying not to think about the heartbreak, and you were in no position to turn him away. It was going to make it worse in the morning, but you didn’t care. He wrapped you up and held you against his chest, breathing heavy as he tangled his legs up with yours and slowly started drifting off to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, which shouldn’t have been as surprising or as hurtful as it was. With a heavy sigh you pulled on an old t-shirt and made your way out to the kitchen. You saw a note on the counter next to an already-made pot of coffee. You would be able to recognize Opie’s scratchy handwriting from a mile away.

“Sorry for crashing in and leaving. Thank you for everything. Love you. -Opie”

With a sigh you tacked the note up on the fridge. You knew you should’ve just crumpled it and thrown it out, but you couldn’t. Not yet. With a heavy sigh you went to shower off the events of the previous night in an attempt to get your mind right.

You walked into the clubhouse that night, and the weekly party was already well underway. Everyone was drinking and laughing, and it was a welcome distraction. You couldn’t pretend, though, that you weren’t constantly looking for Opie.

“What brings you here, darlin’?” Jax asked with a smile as he found a spot next to you at the bar.

You leaned into his hug with a smile, “I heard parties can be a good distraction.”

He nodded, smirking when he spotted the dark marks on your neck. He tapped them with the tip of his finger, “Looks like you’ve got a handle on that just fine.”

You laughed, face instantly getting hot, “Something like that.”

“That what you need a distraction from?”

You nodded, not caring to elaborate further, “Opie here tonight?”

Jax looked around the clubhouse as he nodded, “Yea. Got here with Lyla a few minutes ago.”

“What?”

Jax returned his gaze to you, not used to hearing such a bite to your tone, “Um. Yea. You alright?”

You nodded despite the fact that you weren’t anywhere near alright. Your heart felt like it had dropped into your stomach, “I’m fine. I just, I need to step out for some air. You see Opie tell him to come find me?”

Jax nodded but didn’t say anything else as you got off your stool and all but ran for the door. You sat down at the picnic table, running your hands down your face as you fought back the tears. You had assumed that he had ended things with Lyla and that’s how he ended up at your place, but of course not. He was never good at being alone, he wouldn’t put himself in that position if he could help it.

A few minutes later you saw someone take a seat next to you out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t need to look in order to know who it was.

“You didn’t fucking break up with her?” you weren’t expecting to sound so choked up.

“Y/N, I just—”

“Just cheated on your girlfriend with me? And didn’t bother to mention that to me?” you shook your head, “And then I fucking showed up here tonight and…” your bottom lip quivered, “Fuck, Opie.”

“I know.”

“Do you?!” you snapped, “Lyla didn’t deserve that! And I sure as hell didn’t either,” you stood up, pacing back and forth in front of the table, “Y’know what, fuck this. I, I can’t be here.”

He stood up to walk after you, “Y/N, don’t. Come on.”

You were already digging your keys out of your purse, “Don’t give me that. I can’t…I can’t look at you or be around you right now. Figure your shit out, Opie.”

That was the last thing you said to him. It’d been a little over a month since then, and you hadn’t spoken to him or been back to the clubhouse since. You were currently hugging the toilet bowl as you threw up what little was left in your stomach from dinner the night before. On top of the actual nausea, you had an uneasy feeling that you knew exactly what was causing it.

Once you rinsed out your mouth and brushed your teeth, you grabbed the pregnancy tests out of the bag from the pharmacy. It was a long shot but they did always say that even the pill wasn’t 100% effective. Just your luck, you would be in the 1% that could still get pregnant on the pill.

You set the test on the sink counter and set the timer on your phone, your entire body shaking in anticipation as you waited. You didn’t know what you wanted the result to be, really. You’d always wanted kids at some point down the road, with the right person. This just felt so sudden, with so many blank spaces.

The timer went off and with a deep breath, you looked at the test. Clear as day, the little screen said pregnant. For a moment you felt like you were going to throw up all over again. But you managed to keep your composure and take another test just to be sure, and you were rewarded with the same answer. You sighed, running your hands over your face as you tried to figure out what you were going to do.

You took out your phone and texted Opie, “Come over ASAP. We gotta talk”

After a month and a half of not speaking, that was probably an alarming text for him to get. It was effective, though, because within the hour you heard the sound of his motorcycle outside. He let himself in, finding you sitting at the kitchen counter with your head in your hands.

“Got your text. What’s going on?”

Before you got into it, you wanted some answers on a few things first, “How’s Lyla?”

He sighed, thinking that you had called him over just to continue berating him, “Wouldn’t know. Haven’t talked to her in weeks,” he paused, “Broke it off the week after that party.”

You nodded, “Right. Good. You tell her what happened with us?”

He shook his head, “No point. Didn’t want to drag you into all that shit if you weren’t even coming around anymore,” he waited for you to meet his eyes, “What’s this about?”

You sighed, waving for him to come closer. He walked into your kitchen, leaning on the opposite side of the counter from you. Your leg bounced nervously as you tried to put the words together, “I, um, fuck,” you took a deep breath and forced yourself to make eye contact with him, “I’m pregnant.”

His eyes went wide, “What?”

You nodded, “I’m pregnant. Missed my period a couple weeks ago. Took two tests today to be sure.”

“Is it…” he didn’t have to finish the sentence for you to know what he was asking.

You nodded, “Yea. Yours.”

“But I thought you were on the pill?”

Your laugh was hollow as tears appeared in your eyes, “I was. Called my doctor about it and everything. It happens. Not common but it happens,” you shook your head, “I’m not saying you need to be involved or that we need to be together or whatever. I just, I couldn’t not tell you.”

There was a long stretch of silence as he processed what you had just told him. He drummed his fingers on the countertop, “Do you want me to be involved? You want,” he gestured back and forth between the two of you, “this? Us?”

“I’ve been in love with you for years, Ope. I never said anything because you’ve always been in love with someone else. Which was, fine. It was what it was. But when you came over here that night? I almost had a fucking heart attack. And then when I found out that you hadn’t even left Lyla I was fucking…gutted. I felt so dirty and…and used.”

“Y/N, it wasn’t—”

You held your hand up to stop him, “Don’t lie. Not to me, alright? You were a mess and I shouldn’t have let it happen. But I did. That was just as much on me as it was on you. I just never thought that you would do that to Lyla. Or to me.”

“I came here that night because I trust you, because I love you,” he said, his eyes glued to the counter, “You’ve always been…safe. And I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have used you for that. That was fucked up. And I’m sorry. But,” he walked around to the other side of the counter, “if you want to do this, I’m here. For you, for the baby. I’m here.”

“I can’t just pretend…”

He nodded, “I know. And I don’t want you to. I know that I’ve got work to do,” he reached and thumbed the tears off your cheeks, “But that’s work I’m more than willing to do if you’ll let me. I love you.”

You let the words sink in for a moment as you shut your eyes and rested your hand on top of his, “I love you too.”

“And I’m sorry.”

You nodded, opening your eyes to look at him, “I know.”

“But I think we could do this. I really do. If that’s what you want.”

You paused, finally giving a slow nod, “I do. But I just…I need some time to get right with all this.”

He pulled you against his chest, pressing a kiss against the top of your head, “I got all the time in the world for you two.”

#soa #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #opie winston #opie winston x reader #opie winston x you #opie winston angst #opie winston smut #sons of anarchy fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

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Words: 3,778 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: None really! A/N: This is the final part of a miniseries! Find the previous part on the Masterlist!

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The next morning, Daryl was still sitting watch outside the barn as he had promised you when some movement up at the farmhouse caught his eye. He straightened up when he saw it was you stepping onto the porch. He immediately started heading over and met you at the steps. The bruising on your arm from your boyfriend’s hand and fingers and on your face from where he had hit you had darkened overnight and his stomach twisted and clenched with anger. The split in your bottom lip glared out against the delicate pink around it, a dark crimson slice.

“Hey. Are ya alright?” His blue eyes were narrowed in concern.

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.” You glanced over at the makeshift campsite. It was quiet and still. “Everyone still sleeping?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Ya sure ya should be up and about? Ya got a concussion.”

“I’m okay.” You gave him a long look and Daryl waited. He could sense you were on the edge of saying something. You tried to gulp down the nerves. “Would you—will you take me to go talk to him?”

Daryl’s brow furrowed more deeply. “Ya dun owe him anythin’,” he drawled. The gravel was heavier in his voice than usual.

Daryl nudged his nose up at you in a nod. He turned to lead the way but you called him back.

“Daryl—” There was worry and anxiety etched in your brow and somehow the archer knew what you were trying to ask.

“I won’t leave ya alone with him. Don’t worry.”

You gulped, grateful that he understood implicitly, immediately. You went down the steps and fell into stride beside him.

“How’d ya sleep? Ya get some rest?” he asked, casting a sideways glance in your direction. It almost physically hurt him when his eyes hitched on your injuries.

You nodded. “A little. Except Hershel had someone coming in to wake me up every hour or so… I guess that’s to make sure I wasn’t going into a coma after the—the concussion…”

Daryl felt that familiar burn of rage in his chest. “Is it that serious?” he asked, stopping dead. “Maybe ya really shouldn’t be up. We should get ya—”

“I’m fine. I think he was just being cautious,” you countered.

Daryl gulped under the fixed gaze of your eyes but ultimately nodded and started toward the barn again.

“Did you get any sleep?” you asked kindly, concern in your tone.

Daryl shrugged vaguely. “Nah. But s’alright. Wanted to make sure he was locked up and couldn’t get to ya. Once the others are up, I’ll catch a few hours.”

You gave him a grateful smile, feeling your cheeks warm a little with a blush. “Thanks for that.” He only nodded.

Finally, you both arrived at the barn and Daryl unlocked the door and paused with his hand on the latch. “Ya sure?” You looked a little afraid, but you nodded. He swung the door open and followed you inside. He passed in front of you as you crossed the space to a huddled figure leaning partially up against the opposite wall, half-slumped over toward the dirt floor. Daryl rushed up to him and kicked the bottom of his boot hard. “Wake up, dumbass!” he growled.

He stirred and lifted his head. You could see that his face was bloody and bruised, with one eye completely swollen shut, the result of Daryl’s fists the day before. You felt sick when he noticed you were there, his whole body language changed. His whole demeanor changed, but you knew it was just all an act.

“Oh, baby. Babe, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you! I just got so jealous. Please, I just—I love you so much!” He was immediately pleading. Your heart started to race and the sick feeling in your stomach only increased.

Daryl was immediately on him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and thrusting him hard against the wall. “Shut the fuck up! I don’t wanna hear another goddamn word out of ya. Ya ain’t even deserve to look at her, but she’s got some things she wants to say, and you’re gonna listen. Got it?” Your boyfriend averted his eyes and said nothing, and Daryl released his hold on him. Your ex-boyfriend’s eyes drifted back to you. They were cold, hard.

Daryl stood just behind you, watching the scene carefully for anything going the slightest millimeter wrong.

“They asked me what to do with you. You’re gonna be gone, but whether that’s away from here or dead is mostly up to me.” You paused and gulped again at the tightness in your throat. “But I think a quick and easy death is just too good for you. Besides, I don’t want anyone’s blood on my hands, even yours. So, I’m gonna tell Rick to take you way out, alone, into the middle of nowhere and just leave you. So maybe you’ll feel a modicum of the fear you put me through every day. You’ll experience how alone I felt, how isolated. How helpless. How robbed of every part of me that mattered. And then the walkers can have you. Or maybe you’ll meet someone just like yourself and get a taste of your own medicine.” Your bottom lip was quivering a little but you were determined to get through this. “And there’s something else you should know. Right now, this is the last time I will ever think about you. But you? You’ll think about me every day. You’ll think about what you did. But I don’t care about you anymore. It’ll be like you never existed.”

You stared at him once more for a long moment and then turned to look at Daryl. He nudged his nose up at you in a nod and you headed for the door, leaving behind the man you had once loved who you now didn’t recognize. Daryl latched and locked up the barn and you waited for him, your arms across yourself again, subconscious armor. He was anxiously chewing his bottom lip when he turned around and caught your striking eyes. “Ya did good in there. Ya feel better? After havin’ your say?”

Your expression turned a little sad. “Maybe a tiny bit. But mostly no. Besides, it was a lie. He’ll haunt me for a while. But it’ll be different. He won’t have control over me anymore. And I won’t live every day like I’m walking on eggshells.” You studied Daryl’s face for a moment and felt a warmth growing in your chest. “Thank you, Daryl. For everything.”

He shook his head. “S’nothin’.”

Your lips curved in a small smile and Daryl watched with surprise as you came close to him and stretched yourself up on your toes to place a kiss on his cheek. Setting your heels back down, your eyes flickered between his, memorizing the shades of blue in them. His expression was a little impassive, but you didn’t mind. You smiled up at him again. “Get some sleep,” you said, gently touching his arm, before turning and heading away back up to the farmhouse. The trail of warmth and slight tingling, like the remnants of a static charge, were still strong on his skin even as your figure faded away.

Daryl’s heart was hammering in his chest still as he laid down on his cot in his tent, chasing sleep.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Two Months Later “Hey!” Daryl jumped up from the log he was seated on beside his small fire circle as he saw you starting to cross the green space toward the tree line. You paused and turned at the sound of his voice and the smile you gave him sent a rush of heat to his chest which quickly poured into his face. You just brightened when you smiled and he found it damn near irresistible. “Where the hell ya think you’re going?” he said, jest plain in his voice as he jogged over to you.

You adjusted the strap of your pack on your shoulder and rested the other hand on the hilt of your knife, which was sheathed at your hip. “Gonna go see what I can forage. If I have to listen to Rick and Shane bickering anymore today, I’m going to lose my mind,” you joked.

“Yer just gonna go off out there? By yerself?” he asked you, his brow drawing down low over his blue eyes. “Real nice. Where the hell is my invite?”

You laughed jovially, and Daryl felt another jolt to his heart, causing it to skip a beat. He loved the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed, and how now you gave into it with your whole being. You were just like that, despite everything you had been through and despite the state of the world, you just gave into it. It gave Daryl hope. You straightened up and gave him a half-smile. “Well, where’s your crossbow? Come on. How are you gonna keep me safe from walkers without it?”

Daryl smiled back at you, just a small one like he always did, but it still filled you up every time you saw it. He lifted his chin in a nod. “Be right back,” he drawled. You were happy to wait for him while he grabbed his gear and returned to your side.

You fell into stride beside each other at an easy pace and headed toward the tree line. “So, Rick and Shane were goin’ at it again, huh?” Daryl asked. “What was it this time?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Nothing. That’s the thing… Shane is just—I don’t know. He takes any excuse he can to pick an argument with Rick. He’s just—I don’t know…” you trailed off. “He makes me uncomfortable,” you said.

Daryl glanced over at you, his face darkening with a shadow of concern. “He do somethin’?” He felt a swell of protective fire in his chest.

You met his blue eyes and shook your head. “No. No, nothing. I just mean he seems… unstable,” you said. You had reached the edge of the woods now and you pulled a small bag out of the side pocket of your pack and unsnapped the loop over your knife hilt. You scanned the ground for edible plants and mushrooms.

“Ya, cuz he is,” Daryl agreed, glancing around to check for any sign of walkers. “I’ve known plenty of assholes like him before… He just seems to be better at foolin’ people about what he really is. At least he was. Promise me somethin’, though?” You looked up at the archer with a quizzical expression. “If he does anything to ya, tries anything ya don’t like—Hell, him or anyone else, ya tell me, alright?”

You suddenly lost your courage to hold his eyes in the wake of his protectiveness and you felt your cheeks burn a little with a blush. You averted your eyes back toward the ground but nodded. “What would I do without you, Daryl?”

He shrugged and hummed a vague and somewhat dismissive noise, even while he felt that fluttering between his lungs he always associated only with you.

You passed the time easily beside Daryl, and managed to find some wild mushrooms and berries that would add some much-needed variety and nutrition to everyone’s diet. You had just been thinking that it was probably time to head back when Daryl suddenly straightened up and looked skyward.

“We better get goin’,” he said. “S’gonna storm.”

No sooner had he spoken those words than the light seemed to shift and darken. You nodded. “Yeah. Those clouds don’t exactly look friendly.” You shoved the bag you had been collecting berries in back into your pack. “Let’s go.”

Daryl led the way quickly through the underbrush as thunder rolled in the distance. You both emerged from the tree line into the pasture just as lightening cracked and the sky opened up and unleashed a torrent of rain. You were both soaked in an instant and you let out a gasp of surprise at the coldness of the rain. Glancing over at Daryl, who was squinting at you through the downpour, you couldn’t help laughing at the situation as you tried to fend off shivers as the freezing rainwater rolled down your skin.

“C’mon! My tent is closest!” he yelled over the rain. You nodded and took off with him through the grey veil, running with abandon the way you had when you were a child trying to get home before dark. Your socks squished inside your inundated boots as they pounded the saturated ground. Your jeans were heavy with moisture and you felt your clothing and hair clinging to you as you moved.

When you arrived at Daryl’s campsite, he hastily unzipped his tent and held the cloth door open for you to pass inside first. You rushed in but tried to corral yourself in the middle of the tent so you wouldn’t shed rainwater all over his space. “Oh my God,” you said with a laugh, looking over at him as he zipped the door closed. “Soaked through and through.” He set his crossbow down at the edge of the tent and you gulped as you watched water droplets roll down from his wet hair and descend over his collarbone and strong arms. You tried your hardest to prevent a shiver from wracking through you, but to no avail. You were soaked and the autumn rain had been stinging with cold.

Daryl was trying his hardest to avoid looking at how your wet clothes were clinging to the curves and angles of your body and he was grateful for a distraction when he saw you shiver. He went to his duffel bag and pulled out a clean towel.

“Thanks,” you said, accepting it gratefully and trying to wring the water from your hair with it before wrapping it around your shoulders. “Not sure how much good it will do,” you said, laughing as you looked down at your sodden clothing and boots.

“Guess I shoulda pulled us outta there a little sooner,” he drawled, still avoiding looking at you because every time he did he felt like his brain started to go fuzzy and the warmth kindling in his chest was almost overwhelming.

It suddenly struck you how familiar this felt, but at the same time how different. “Not the first time I’ve hidden from the rain in here,” you said suddenly, not even really meaning to speak the thought aloud.

Daryl’s eyes snapped up to your face. That night had been on his mind since the moment the first raindrop hit him. He anxiously chewed his bottom lip and nodded.

The atmosphere between you in the small space, with the rain hammering on the outside of the tent, was sudden charged and heavy.

“But it feels different this time,” you said softly. “Nothing to hide from. Nowhere I’m supposed to be.”

Daryl’s blue eyes flickered between yours. “I shoulda known,” he said regretfully. “I shoulda done somethin’ about him sooner.”

You gave him a sad smile and shook your head. “That’s not on you. Any of it. You did enough.” You took a somewhat hesitant step toward him and Daryl watched as the towel slipped from around your shoulders and fell to the floor in a soft pile, forgotten in the intensity of the moment. “You do more than enough.” You studied his face, each fleck of blue in his eyes, the angles of his jaw. His shirt was clinging to his strong chest and you wanted more than anything at that moment to reach out and touch him, press your hands gently to him in the way he too deserved to be touched.

Daryl couldn’t look away from you. Your gaze, you were magnetic and he felt like he was being drawn in, pulled in. He was seconds away from tumbling into something he would be only too happy to get lost in.

But you suddenly turned and Daryl watched, puzzled, as you went to the upended box that served as a table beside his cot. You carefully moved aside a stray crossbow bolt and a wrinkled paperback and found what you were looking for; the pressed honeysuckle you had found that night, months ago, picked even longer ago before that. You laid the delicate, papery flower out on your palm before turning back to the archer.

He shifted a little anxiously as he saw what you had in your hand.

“You kept it. This whole time,” you said, glancing from the crimson bloom back up to meet his eyes, which were narrowed slightly at you as he waited to see where this was going, nervous but reeling with hopeful anticipation. “Why?” you asked simply. You were merely half a foot apart now, your palm held up flat between the two of you revealing the muted shades of green and red.

Daryl gulped down his nerves and shifted in a shrug. “Ya know why,” he said simply, his deep voice almost feeling like it was wrapping around you.

You stared back down at the flower in your hand. “It’s just a flower. It’s not—” But whatever you had been about to say was stopped by Daryl’s lips on yours. He clasped your face delicately in his hands and kissed you with an urgency that wouldn’t be ignored, couldn’t be.

At first you let out a soft noise of surprise, but Daryl’s nerves vanished as your lips gave softly beneath his and suddenly you were kissing him back eagerly. Your hands were on his sides, feeling the tensed muscles beneath his wet shirt and neither of you noticed the honeysuckle bloom floating gently to the floor as you sank into one another. You arched up onto your toes and looped your arms around his neck, pulling into him more deeply. Daryl’s hands lightly found your waist, your hips, one finally settling in the small of your back keeping you against him with gentle pressure. The world outside seemed to fall away and vanish and it was just you and him and the sound of the storm. The kiss was hungry and fervent but eventually softened and Daryl watched with disbelief as you pulled slightly away and your eyes opened, eyelashes fluttering, revealing the striking color of your irises which he was finally able to study as closely as he wanted, memorizing each hue, fleck, and ring of color. Your lips curved in a smile as you looked up at him and you were sure your cheeks were flushed, because wow. God you had wanted to do that for a long time, longer than you had admitted to yourself.

You clasped his face gently and ran your thumb along his strong jaw, subconsciously biting your bottom lip.

You felt one of his fingers lightly moving on your lower back, like he needed to feel you, really feel you to know this was real.

“Can we, uhh, do that again?” you said with a smile.

Daryl’s mouth twitched up on one side in a smile and he nudged his nose up at you. Before he could even lean in you had arched up on your toes again and pressed your lips to his. This kiss was soft and wanting and sent bolts of electricity through both of you, sending goosebumps rising on your skin that weren’t at all related to your soaked clothes.

You finally broke apart, breathless, and loved that Daryl’s arms were still around you. He seemed unwilling to let you go, and you hoped he never would. You were both all shy smiles for a moment until another shiver ran through you and Daryl felt it beneath his hands. One of his eyebrows immediately quirked down and he broke with you only long enough to collect the towel from the floor and wrap it around you again. His fingers then gently plucked the pressed honeysuckle from the canvas floor and he reached around you to replace it on his improvised nightstand. “Ya should go get some dry clothes on. Can’t have ya getting’ sick.”

Your eyes were still connected with his and you nodded vaguely. “Yeah. But I don’t want to leave,” you said quietly. Daryl chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully.

“Ya ain’t gotta. I got plenty of dry clothes in here. C’mon,” he said, gently tapping his fingers where they were resting on your lower back. “We can both change. I’ll face this way. I won’t look. Promise.”

You smiled widely at his sweetness and nodded in agreement. The idea of cozying up in Daryl’s clothes sounded like the best thing you could imagine at that moment, wrapped in his smell, and safe and warm with him close by.

Soon you were both in dry clothes. Daryl’s eyes drank in the sight of you in his oversized shirt and gulped at the rush of heat pouring outward from his chest. He’d wanted this for so long and now that it was happening it still didn’t feel real. You went and sank down on Daryl’s cot, moving toward the back edge to make room for him, giving him an irresistible and expectant look. The archer sank down beside you, gently putting one of his arms underneath your head and draping the other over your waist, his fingertips lightly tickling your back. You both just couldn’t stop looking at the other, and the sound of the storm outside was the perfect backdrop.

You reached out and rested your palm lightly against his chest, feeling the expansion of his lungs and the steady cadence of his heartbeat. “I’m sorry it too me so long to figure this out,” you said softly.

Daryl only looked back at you with a soft expression. “Don’t be. I woulda waited as long as I had to. You’re worth it.”

You gave him a smile and a look of wonder before kissing him softly again. “So are you.”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #daryl dixon gifs #my gifs

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markosmate · 3 years

Text

taken away

Pairing; Marko x Emerson!Reader

Summary; Moving to a different state with your younger brothers and mother just to live with your grandfather was hard enough, but falling in love with a vampire and then watching your brother do the same thing? Much different story.

Warnings; strong language

au:// Woohoo y’all part 4 and we’re finally getting into the good stuff, only two more chapters till the smut ;)

Part 3 - Part 5

“Where you going, Star?” My eyes snapped up to the owner of the voice, and they temporarily widened when I realized it was the same man the girl had left with the night prior. Apparently, her name was Star. His gaze was sharp, a silent warning that she better not defy him and proceed to get on Michael’s bike.

“For a ride. This is Michael.” She explained softly, gaze never leaving the mullet man. My own gaze flicked away from the conflict and towards my right where not even two feet away sat Marko, sitting atop his bike, and eyes already on me. He grinned a devilish kind of smile when my eyes met his and he sent me a small wink when I couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes away for a good few seconds.

“Let’s go.” Michael’s voice broke me out of it as he continued to try and get Star to leave with him. It didn’t work.

“Star.” Mr. Mullet warned. My eyes flicked between him and Star as she finally gave up and stepped away from Michael’s bike, grabbing the man’s shoulder and hoisting herself onto the back of his bike. I raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding the dynamic of whether or not they were together.

Once Star was seated comfortably and the dark-haired biker pulled the small child onto the back of his bike, Mr. Mullet turned his attention back to Michael. “You know where Hudson’s Bluff is? Over-looking the point?”

Michael scoffed a bit and shook his head. “I can’t beat your bike.”

Mullet grinned deviously and revved his engine. “You don’t have to beat me, Michael. You just have to try and keep up.” Before any of them made a move to leave, his gaze flicked to mine. “You’re more than welcome to tag along, doll. Wouldn’t want to leave a girl like yourself here alone.” And despite everything screaming in my head that I would be crazy to leave with these guys, and that I promised myself I wouldn’t associate with them and would turn in the other direction if they even glanced at me, I nodded.

His face lit up in an arrogant smirk and before I could even make the move to mount the back of Michael’s bike, Marko locked his gaze onto mine. “You could ride with me sweet thing, I’ll keep you safe. Promise.” There was a teasing tone to his words, and I rolled my eyes at his stupid pet name, but accepted his invite nonetheless. I hated riding with Michael, he was always jerky with the steering and switching between going way too fast and way too slow. These dudes couldn’t possibly be worse drivers than him, no matter where they were taking us to.

I pushed myself up and off the railing and walked around the side of his bike. I didn’t miss the victorious smiles the two long-haired blonds sent each other, but I chose to ignore it. I grabbed his shoulders and hoisted myself up onto the seat behind him. He looked back over his shoulder with a sly grin and whispered quietly to me. “Hold on.” I listened to him, wrapping my arms tightly around his torso and holding on for dear life as they set off.

The four bikes sped down the boardwalk, weaving between crowds of people and almost hitting a few concession stands, and finally the boys all quite literally jumped the staircases onto the beach sand. They must have done that a thousand times, because Marko was able to steady the bike as soon as it hit the sand and he kept going as fast as possible without ever making a move to slow down. I lifted my face from being buried in the back of his shoulder and turned my head to see how Michael was holding up.

He seemed to slow his bike to a stop at the top of the staircase, hesitating and debating his options, before eventually opting to rev the bike down the stairs. His back tire kicked out as he hit the sand, but he quickly balanced the vehicle back out again. Once I knew he was safely traveling behind us, I turned back around to face the direction we were heading in. The boys seemed to be riding in a kind of diamond shape so they could all make eye contact with each other if need be. From my spot, I caught sight of Star turning to catch a glance of Michael before turning to face forward and grin happily as the boys cheered.

I loosened my grip on Marko’s middle slightly, but not too much because I liked being this close to him in a weird sort of way. He turned his head to cheer with Paul who was laughing his ass off on his own bike a few yards away. I laughed and pressed my cheek to his shoulder blade to watch the ocean as we drove across the entirety of the beach. Soon the bikes moved into a line instead of the previous diamond, and we were speeding through the wooden stakes of the pier and swerving over a dirt path leading through the woods.

Finally, we emerged from the woods into a large cloud of fog, something completely abnormal at this time in the night and near this close to the bluff. I hugged myself closer to Marko as he, and the two other bikers pulled off to the side to let Michael and Mr. Mullet play a rather dangerous game of chicken leading towards the edge of the point.

At the last moment, Michael laid down his bike, skidding to a stop just before he plummeted over with his front tire hanging inches off the edge. Mullet braked his bike just in time, and he and Star stared out over the edge down towards the waves crashing against the bank. Marko and the two others quickly stopped their bikes as Michael stood sharply and whirled on Mullet.

I quickly stood from the bike and moved off to the side to get out of the boys’ way. The three bikers pushed themselves off their bikes, laid them down to the ground, and quickly moved closer as Michael ran towards Mullet. “What the hell you doing, huh?”

“No!” Star’s short scream of protest cut through the air as Michael pulled his fist back before punching Mullet clean across the face. The three others of the group quickly grabbed ahold of my brother and yanked him backwards, but he reciprocated just as fast and used both arms to shove back the dark-haired biker and Marko on either side of him.

He pointed at Mullet and began speaking once more. “Just you, come on! Just you.” He repeated, glaring Mullet down as the biker turned to look back at Michael with an eerily calm grin. “Come on, just you.” Michael mumbled again as Marko turned to grin at the other blond at his side.

“How far you willing to go Michael?” He mocked, watching with calculated eyes at Michael’s next move. Mullet gestures for his three friends to head down into the cave, and they all disperse from the three and begin to move their bikes so they’re out of sight. Before I can even try to make my way over to Michael to check if he’s alright, a pair of arms wraps around my waist from behind and swings me for a short moment. I let out a short squeak of a laugh, deciding that the chances of it being Marko are very high and there was no need for me to panic at the contact.

The wind blows hard from behind us, and a few locks of curly hair are blown forward across my shoulders. That confirms it, I note to myself.

After Michael’s and Mullet’s bikes are hidden away with the others, the eight of us make our way down a set of stairs that lead to an opening in the rock. The dark-haired boy leads us, a large burning stick in his hand that he uses to light a couple of fires around the cave.

The glam-rocker dude jumped down the last rock hand-in-hand with the young child. “Rock bottom, bud.”

“Yeah.” The kid laughed along, moving off to the side towards a large radio speaker. Marko gripped the loop of my jeans, pulling me to jump off the last rock and land next to where he was standing. I tore my eyes away from where Michael was to look at the curly-haired boy next to me. He was watching what Mullet was doing, not looking me in the eyes, but a smirk curled his lips when he noticed me staring.

As Mullet began explaining the history behind the cave we were in, Marko scooped a pigeon up from where it was picking at crumbs, and held it against his check as he pulled my belt loop to have me leaning against one of his legs. “Not bad, huh? This was the hottest resort in Santa Carla about 85 years ago.” Mullet’s voice echoed through the cave as glam-rocker leaned down to grab the heavy radio from the kid. “Too bad they built it on a fault. In 1906, when the big one hit San Francisco, the ground opened up, this place took a header-” He clapped his gloved hands together loudly as he walked around the fountain and in the direction of the corner where Marko and I stood. “- right into the crack. So now it’s ours.”

“So check it out, Mikey.” Glam rocker teased from on top of the fountain, busying himself with lighting a blunt. The guys all laughed at his teasing, before Mullet turned to where Marko and I were standing.

“Marko,” Said boy immediately stood a bit straighter, shifting from foot to foot and loosening his hold on the pigeon and I. “Food.” Marko gave a short nod, letting the pigeon go and turning to me. He jokingly kissed my cheek before whispering a little too softly into my ear.

“Be back soon, sweet thing.” When he pulled back he was sporting a large Cheshire grin, and he winked as I smacked his hair with a small laugh before turning and hopping back up the rocks we originally came down.

Now that he was gone, I couldn’t make myself look occupied and avoid contact with any of the other boys. I watched as Mullet held the blunt glam-rocker had given him up to Michael and offered it to him as an appetizer. Michael declined, and while Mullet’s attention was diverted I analyzed everyone else to see who the most approachable was. I decided on glam-rocker, shyly moving over to the couch he was seated on and plopping down next to him.

He grinned at me when he saw me make myself comfortable. “Hey, babe. Nice to meet you.”

I smiled back at him and gripped the hand he was offering to me, shaking it firmly. “Ivory.”

He laughed, almost a disbelieving kind of laugh, before locking eyes with me again. “Oh, we already know. Marko told us. I’m Paul, that’s Dwayne,” He pointed towards the dark-haired one sitting on the furniture opposite of us who sent me a small smile and tiny wave. I waved back before keying back into what Paul was saying. “And that’s David. You might wanna start calling him his name, I don’t think he takes too kindly to just ‘Mullet’.”

I felt my face flush and my eyes shot back to lock onto Paul’s. “Oh no, have I been calling him that out loud?”

I don’t remember calling him that out loud at all to be completely honest, but Paul grinned back at me like he knew something that I didn’t and went right along with it. “Oh yeah, definitely. Like three times, if I’m telling you the truth.”

I shot him a bewildered look before laughing. “Well, great first impression for the scary one I guess.”

Paul chuckled along with me. “Hey, you’re after Marko right now, if there’s anyone to be labeled the scary one - other than David - it’s him.”

I shrugged at his words. “My feelings for the blond can’t be helped.” I quite enjoyed this little banter we had going back and forth, it was flowing easily and I enjoyed being able to have an ongoing conversation with someone without it turning awkwardly quiet halfway through. After a little more banter between Paul and myself, footsteps echoed across the rocks and Marko jumped down into the cave.

“Feeding time, come and get it boys!” He called out voice echoing.

“Alright.” Paul cheered quietly as Marko carried the large box towards where David was sitting in his wheelchair.

“Chinese... Good choice.” David complimented when he saw the food inside the carryout box. Marko handed a container to David, before turning and tossing one to Dwayne.

“Over here bud.” Paul called out and Marko tossed one to him as well. The curly-haired biker then pulled out another container and leaned over to hand it to me, shooting a small smile my way when I thanked him.

I leaned back against the couch, Paul at my side, and watched as David opened up the box of rice in his hands. He took a bite of it before leaning over and offering some to Michael. “Guests first.”

“No.” Michael politely declined, holding up his hand and shaking his head softly. “You don’t like rice? Tell me Michael, how could a billion Chinese people be wrong?” David questioned, his joke causing the other boys to laugh at Michael’s expense. Mike snorted quietly before leaning over and excepting the rice, pulling the fork out and taking a bite.

I shifted in my seat, pulling my knees up to my chest and watching as David grabbed another box from Marko’s hands. A weird feeling filled my chest as I watched David look up at Michael instead of continuing to pick at his noodles.

“How are those maggots?” David’s voice suddenly broke the air and my eyebrows shot up. Michael looked up at him, eyebrow quirking and eyes filling with confusion.

“Hm?”

“Maggots, Michael. You’re eating maggots, how do they taste?” Michael rolled his eyes at what David was saying but looked down at his box nonetheless. I followed in his steps and brought my gaze down to my own box. Rice, that’s all that was in mine. My eyebrows furrowed and I lifted my gaze over to Michael’s box and had to physically fight myself against gasping aloud. Maggots wiggled around each other, almost completely overflowing from the container. Mike’s eyes widened and he threw the box to the floor, leaning to the side to spit out the creatures while the four boys laughed and Star protested against what was going on.

Mike reached up, and grabbed a piece of rice from his lip before looking back down at the box. We both stared in disbelief as the contents spilled on the floor weren’t even close to resembling maggots anymore - now all that sat there was the same rice in the rest of the boxes. “Sorry about that. No hard feelings, huh?”

“Nah.” Michael shook his head, obviously trying to play it off cool as I switched my gaze between the spilled rice and David, who shoved his chopsticks into the noodles he was holding. How had he done that? I had clearly seen maggots rummaging in the take-out container, but the next second they were back to looking like parcels of rice.

Suddenly, David leaned over and offered Michael the box of noodles in his hand. “Why don’t you try some noodles?”

I watched Michael physically recoil from the offered food and I was almost scared to look down and see what it was this time. “They’re worms.” Michael wasn’t lying, I caught a glimpse of the box before David pulled it back to himself and there were, indeed, clumps of worms twisted around each other.

“They’re worms.” David snorted in disbelief, rolling his eyes and collecting a few on his chopsticks.

“Hey, don’t eat that-” Michael tried to protest but shut his mouth when the only thing that was wrapped around the chopsticks and getting stuffed into David’s mouth were a tangle of noodles.

David swallowed his food, before looking back down to Michael with a small satisfactory smirk. “They’re only noodles, Michael.” I stared at the platinum blond in admiration, how had he managed to make both of us actually see something that wasn’t really there? How had he managed to make both the maggots and the worms seem so realistic?

“That’s enough.” Star spoke clearly, trying to get the boys to listen to what she was saying.

“Ah, chill out girl.” Paul shushed her from beside me, clearly enjoying the show David was putting on for them at Michael’s expense.

Suddenly, David’s cold eyes turned to me. He smirked, and gestured Marko over to him.

Marko leant over, letting David speak quietly into his ear and letting his eyes lock onto mine as the leader spoke. He nodded a bit, breaking his gaze from mine, dropping his food onto a small side table, and turning and walking over to an old, dusty collection of drawers. I watched him intently, feeling in that moment like I could live the rest of my life completely content if I could just watch Marko do absolutely anything. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a large bejeweled bottle with red liquid swishing around on the inside.

He carried this bottle with both hands and made his way back over to David’s side, handing it over to his leader as gently as possible. Everything became silent, and Star made her move to stand over to the side of where Michael was sitting against a broken fountain. Marko maintained his spot beside the platinum blond, but this time his eyes stayed on me - regardless of if mine returned his gaze or not.

David popped the cork of the bottle and raised it to his lips, taking a large gulp of the liquid and letting his eyes roll back into his head in pleasure after swallowing it. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the interaction unfold. He opened his eyes, now a faint bloodshot, and locked them immediately with Mike’s.

“Drink some of this, Michael.” I didn’t like the feeling I got in my chest just then, a deep unsettling feeling that shook me to my core and made me want to run up and out of the fallen hotel and hightail it home. Judging by Michael’s expression, he obviously didn’t have even close to the same idea I did. He watched David with interested eyes as he spoke his next few words. “Be one of us.”

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 6

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence, and a line that hints at past physical abuse (depending on how you choose to interpret it) Warnings: Mild TW for implied/referenced abuse Notes: Okay so this was supposed to be somewhat therapeutic? But it ended up taking longer to get to that part than I intended, so... Don't worry though, next chapter will be fluffy and also involve more, like, actual Daniela scenes. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2 Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco

Chapter 6: Elegy

(Elegy: A piece of music in the form of a lament)

When you dream, you do not dream of being locked in a tower, awaiting a kindly knight to come save you. When you dream… you dream of your old home, infested with monsters, nearly unrecognizable. Of being forced to flee, leaving everything you loved behind. Of escaping to a remote, quaint little village, only to end up trapped once again, as friendly faces morph into gaping maws and fangs dripping red. When you dream, it is less a nightmare, more memories retouched, covered in a fresh coat of paint.

Waking up is but a brief source of comfort. One hand goes to your head, rubbing gently, as if you could wipe away all traces of your past. A quick glance around your shared room leaves you confused, but serves as a welcome distraction. Though there are six beds in the room, yours is the only occupied one, the others having all been vacated and made presentable. The only explanation that fit with what you knew was that everyone had gotten up, and gotten to work, without waking you. Panic filled you as you connected the dots, knowing that missing work was a death sentence.

Rushing, you rise to your feet, throwing your dresser open to search for fresh clothes. While the castle’s staff was almost entirely female, the Dimitrescu family didn’t enforce traditional gender presentation, allowing maidens to choose whether to wear a dress or a button-up and trousers. Remembering the wound on your neck, you pause, glancing in the dorm’s singular mirror to inspect your injury. Most of the blood had rubbed off in your sleep (and would likely be a nightmare to clean from the sheets). There were, however, a few spots where dried blood mingled with the protective scab. Considering how late you already were, you didn’t believe you would have time to clean up.

As much as you hated the thought, the best you could do was go for a button-up, hoping the collar would hide the worst of your disastrous appearance. Your hair was another matter entirely, far messier than it normally was, and you struggled to brush/comb it enough to be mildly presentable. Good thing Daniela won’t see me today, you think, remembering her insistence on skipping today’s lesson.

Then you remember the rest of your conversation with her; the yelling, being dragged to your feet, and the pain in her eyes. For a moment you feel woozy, pausing in the middle of buttoning your shirt. Your eyes focus on a spot on the now-closed dresser… and suddenly you wish you had paid more attention when you first woke up. There’s a note stuck to the furniture, clearly addressed to you.

Heard you had some trouble yesterday. We’re just glad you’re alive! A certain someone has been a lot nicer since you started playing the piano, and we’re grateful. To show that, we decided to split your morning duties among ourselves, so you can sleep in. If you’re reading this, then it’s still before 4 AM. Feel free to just relax for a while, or even get some more sleep! We’ll be by to make sure you’re up eventually.

Sincerely,

Daphne, Rosalia, Ygritte, Alexandra, Juniper, and Riley

“I… have… freetime?” You mumbled, still a little drowsy, but now also shocked. This was a complete first for you. Maybe even a first among the servants! Sure, you had been given breaks before, but having a couple hours to do whatever you wanted? No one had ever pulled strings like this for you before. It made your chest feel warm, and you just about forgot the whole mess with Daniela. “I’ll have to find a way to pay them back, even if they think they’re paying me back.” With that said you relaxed a little, no longer rushing getting dressed, though still leaving your neck the way it was. You figured you’d stop by one of the maidens’ restrooms before you officially started your shift.

In the meantime, you knew exactly what you’d be using this time for: finding those damn piano books you had been promised!

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“Let’s see… dust, more dust, a dead spider, even more dust, and- oh shit, the spider is not dead,” you said, barely holding in a yelp as the arachnid scurries away from you. If you had known the attic would be so unclean, you might not have bothered to come up here. So far your targets had alluded you without giving so much as a hint towards their location. The library had seemed a likely location, but you had heard Daniela’s voice within, and anxiety had sent you dashing away. Up here, in an area clearly used for storage above all else, was the next best guess, as far as you were concerned. Still, you hadn’t seen anything worth your time yet.

Just insects, really. Not even terribly interesting ones. Well, there had been a shiny beetle of some sort, but it had crawled into a crack in the wall mere seconds after you saw it. Other than that, though, nothing but creepy crawlies. Creepy flyers?... Both, for sure. One fly in particular kept buzzing around you, weirdly interested in what you were doing.

Somehow you didn’t understand what that meant until a firm hand had wrapped itself around your neck. The grip was tight, putting more than enough pressure to make your vision blur. Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, the culprit didn’t intend to just choke you out. Instead they lift you and toss you aside- casually, at that. You hit the wall with a terrible crashing sound, certain to leave bruises, and narrowly avoid toppling into a stack of heavy crates. So much for enjoying some free time, you think. Stunned for several seconds, you find yourself left helpless as your attacker approaches.

“You’re not allowed to be up here,” a voice snarled, familiar enough to leave you terrified. Of course you had to run into the most violent of the Dimitrescu sisters. “Looking for a way out, hmm? Or are you stupid enough to think we’d leave a weapon where a wretched thing like you could find it?” Cassandra asked, pausing only to send a swift kick your way. A grunt escapes you, leaves you coughing, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as hitting the wall. Despite wanting to curl up and give in, you tried to drag yourself to your feet. Surprisingly, Cassandra makes no move to stop you, perhaps enjoying the sight of you struggling.

“Lady… Daniela… gave me permission,” you said between painful breaths. By the time you’re back on your feet, the vampire before you is watching you with narrowed, albeit curious, eyes. Normally it would take a lot of courage to face her. But you’re exhausted, in pain, and you’ve taken nearly as much hurt from someone who called themselves your lover. It’s not brave to stare down Cassandra, it’s foolhardy. It’s idiotic, really, and yet you find yourself unable to care. “I’m just looking for a couple piano books I’ve been told about, so I can use them to help teach Lady Daniela.”

“Oh? You’re her instructor?” Cassandra asked, a strange smile overtaking her expression. Something in the atmosphere has shifted, dangerously, but you can’t figure out why. Clueless to your self-betrayal, you nod in response. Instantly Cassandra’s smile turns into an open-lipped snarl, and she reaches out to grab you by the shirt, this time slamming you into the wall with her own hands. “Then you’re the reason she kept me up yesterday, crying non stop! I’m going to rip you apart, you vermin.”

The look in her eyes is, most definitely, the scariest thing you had ever seen. It’s feral, inhuman, and unstoppably determined. But when tears fall from your eyes, it’s not because you know you’re about to die. No, it’s because the last thing you think you’ll ever hear is the news that your partner had been sobbing for hours… and that you were the reason why. Your heart aches, both physically and emotionally, as you brace yourself for the bloody end.

Instead, the grip on your clothes loosens. You don’t dare open your eyes to see why.

“What the fuck do you want, sis?” Cassandra asked, sounding like she had turned her head away from you. Before you know it you’ve been let go, and you slide to the ground, too surprised to hold yourself steady. When you look up, you see an irritated Bela pulling Cassandra away from you, whispering something you can’t quite hear. They argue for a minute, under their breath, keen on keeping you out of the loop. Eventually the younger of the two storms away, but not before making a dent in the wall with her fist.

“What a child,” Bela said, rolling her eyes at the display. Then she’s walking back towards you, extending a hand in an offer of assistance (one you gladly accept). “That girl has the foresight of a magic eight ball, I swear. If she had actually killed you… ugh, I can hardly stand to imagine how inconsolable Daniela would become. Then I’d have two insufferable sisters. Regardless, do tell me why you thought it would be a good idea to come up here unaccompanied? It is normally off limits for servants, after all.”

“I-I, well… I mean, firstly thank you for saving me, I had no idea-” Bela holds a finger up in a ‘shut up’ motion, then puts it away as soon as you pause- “right, you don’t care. Look, I was just trying to find the piano books that Lady Dimitrescu mentioned, but I’ve looked all over and I can’t find them, so I should really just go,” you explain, eager to get out of the attic. To your surprise, Bela gives you an odd look before turning away. Then she takes no more than five steps, shifts to the side, and opens an old cabinet. Inside you can see a dozen books of sheet music, notably from several different decades, all worn but still in decent condition. “How did-?... I thought I checked there.”

“Well, you must have been distracted. Nonetheless, you know where they are now, and you owe me twice over. With that in mind… come with me. We have things to discuss,” Bela commanded, walking away before you could protest. All you can do is grab the sheet music, tuck it under one arm, and follow her to who-knows-where.

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“I’ll have to have you make my tea more often,” Bela mused, letting the mug keep her hands warm. The two of you were sitting in some sort of study, a room that you had never been inside before. From what you could tell it belonged solely to the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. Inside were several shelves, each filled with well bookmarked collections, a desk next to a massive window, a couple simple chairs, and a few instrument cases. All in all it was an aesthetically pleasing room, organized but not exactly neat. You could certainly imagine Bela spending entire days in this chamber. “Now, why do you think I brought you here?” Her voice brings your focus back into the present moment, as well as sends a spike of anxiety through you.

“Based on what nearly got me killed earlier… Does it have to do with Daniela crying?” You asked, doing your best to indicate just how bad you felt about the subject. No matter how cruel she could be, you did honestly care about Daniela, and even wanted a real, healthy relationship with her. Desire, or willingness, wasn’t the root of the problem by any means. Something told you that Bela understood this, maybe even respected you for it.

“Guess there’s more in that pretty head of yours than air and symphonies, hmm?” Bela replied, laughing a little as she did. It was a far nicer sound than Cassandra’s maniacal giggling, for sure. “Now, I don’t know all the details about what happened- just that there was an argument, clearly a bad one, and Daniela barely made it through dinner before locking herself in her room. Luckily for you, our mother doesn’t seem to know about your little ‘fight’. She’s not sure what upset Dani, and I doubt my sister would tell her, so your secret is safe. Assuming that I blackmailed Cassandra well enough, that is. Anyway, I can’t help you, and by extension my sister, if I don’t know the full story. In case it wasn’t clear, that’s your cue to start talking.”

You’re surprised, admittedly, by a number of things. But Bela seems impatient, so you go over the details of the previous night with her, occasionally pausing to let her ask questions. The whole time her focus is on you, unwavering. There’s also a noticeable lack of judgement in her expression, even when you voice your regret about how you handled the situation, and what is there seems directed more towards Daniela than yourself. Once you finish, Bela releases a deep sigh. One of her hands goes to rub her forehead as if warding off a migraine.

“Well, I can’t say I’m terribly surprised, as much as I wish I could. Daniela’s always had her head in the clouds, and it’s left her tripping over her own feet more than once. Still, this is certainly one of her bigger messes…” Bela said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m going to have to talk to her about this, aren’t I? There’s no way she’s going to process this correctly on her own.” This time she seemed to be talking to herself, gaze locked on her tea as if it might suddenly offer to speak to Daniela in her place. When the tea stayed silent, understandably, she returned her focus to you. “You seemed upset, earlier, about this ridiculous situation. I am going to assume, from that, you are genuinely interested in my dear sister. Normally, this would be the part where I drain you of all blood, and possibly keep your skull as a memento... mori. Yours would look lovely on a window sill, I think.”

She pauses, head tilting a little to the side, clearly evaluating your artistic value.

“However, Daniela appears to care about you, far more than her usual fleeting infatuations. So, for now, I have decided not to eviscerate you, you’re welcome,” Bela cooed, teasingly, enjoying the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Still, you were glad that you would apparently be surviving the day. “So I’m going to give you some advice, which you will take, and you won’t even owe me anything extra for this. Daniela is in love with the mere concept of love- and she has been for as long as I can remember. Romance novels are practically the only books she reads. It’s… embarrassing, truly. More than that, I get the impression that she couldn’t even begin to describe what love actually feels like. She’s digested so much of that written drivel that it warped her senses. Of course, the, ahem, situation we find ourselves in, here at the castle, has undoubtedly added to this effect.

“To get to the point, Daniela’s terribly, hopelessly clueless when it comes to things like what she wants from you. And so I take it upon myself, as her older sibling, to ensure that you understand. Moreso, that you are not dissuaded. If this is an actual chance for her to experience real romance, then it could make her happier than I’ve ever seen her,” Bela explained. The look in her eyes was incredibly soft, to the point where it made you realize just how much this odd little family cared for each other. “Don’t give up, don’t let her occasional infuriating antics push you away. Given enough time… I think the two of you could, I suppose, compliment each other quite nicely. But if you break her heart? I will pull yours from your chest and eat it raw. Understood?” Gulping, you nodded quickly, ignoring the feeling of heat rushing to your cheeks. It was one thing for Bela to want her sister to be happy, but another thing entirely for her to acknowledge your “suitability” for the position. “Good. Now return to whatever it is you maidens normally do. I have a sister to talk sense into.”

-----------------------------------------

Hours later, you stand alone in a display room, dusting various relics from bygone times. A trophy here, a bizarre art piece there, strange, unlabeled tools you can’t quite imagine are for wine-making. It’s a fascinating collection, really. But your mind is focused on other, far softer things. All you can think about is what Bela had told you, about how Daniela really is interested in you, and how she thought the two of you could make it work. After the chaos earlier in the day, this was exactly what you needed. Just some time to yourself, working quietly, thoughts all to yourself. Even your bruises bother you less, the pain fading out into the background. Considering where you are, though, it is not at all surprising that your peace cannot last. As soon as you finish your task you move towards the exit.

The door swings open, outwards, at your touch, only to reveal a familiar figure reaching for the doorknob. Both of you gasp, taken by surprise, before your gazes meet. Of course it’s Daniela. Who else would you bump into right now?

“I thought about what you said,” she blurts, suddenly, eyes wide and hands shaking. “We need to talk, yeah?”

#daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #cliff hanger oops #had fun writing this one

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twelfth-harbinger · 3 years

Note

Hello!! I just finished reading your Zhongli piece and it’s so so good! I love the way you write and your descriptions, unlike other writers who just dive into dialogue and feels very 1D, yours is 3-D!! I love it! Do you plan on continuing the Zhongli one with part 2 NSFW?!?

Also, may I please request a NSFW Diluc piece with female reader, who’s his co-worker/bartender who works at angels share with Charles?

Thank you for your hard work!

A/n: Firstly, yes!!! & thank you!!!, ilysm <3. Secondly Diluc is fucking hot & this is something I couldn’t get out my mind once I read your request. Pls Enjoy ^^

Mentions: Master Diluc likes being called...Master Diluc. Don’t taunt him it’ll lead to something spontaneous and igniting! Bar sex.

Warnings: Nsfw! So spicy hehe

The Angel of Angel’s Share

He spotted you on his occasional endeavors to Angels Share, being an outstanding and tremendous help to Charles when it came to cleaning up and serving drinks to the patrons of his humble business. You insisted that Charles let you help out once in a while as a side job — you needed the mora. Upon getting Dilics rather passive approval in a letter you got in! You spend most nights tidying up, wiping down tables and cleaning glasses periodically. Many of the bar patrons converse with you. Calling you the literal Angel of Angel’s Share. Your beauty was no secret, every man and woman there simply adored you. How could they not? You were friendly, outgoing and most importantly, kind. Your smile was as radiant as the sun itself and of course Diluc had to witness it with his own two eyes. Word did not spread around his establishment without him in the loop. Kaeya frequented the bar more often to flirt with see you; he was a regular before, but now? You rarely go a night where you don’t see him, even if it’s for a short while. Charles has to make snide comments about him slacking off to get him to leave.

All it takes is one night for things to burn brightly into something new, a night akin to this one. Diluc stood behind the counter to relieve Charles for the night shift — he had been there all morning and the night before. You walked in as Diluc was speaking to Charles, you wasted no time in maneuvering to the second floor to clear those tables first.

“Enjoy your night off Charles, I’ll take it from here.” Diluc waved him away and well, it left you there with him. Not alone of course, not yet. As the night pressed on you entertained the customers, served them delicious drinks Diluc prepared and made friends with Stanley?? The busy happy hour of Angels Share gave you no time to take a break. Not until it was well after hours and Diluc had locked the doors to Angel’s Share for the night.

“Good work today.” You chirped happily, as you sat at the bar of the counter atop a stool. Diluc prepared you spiked wolf hook juice on the house; it had a bearclaw kind of taste to it. One of Dliuc’s hands held an empty glass whilst the other dried it with a plain off-white dish cloth.

“I should be saying that to you, you overachieved tonight.” He didn’t mean for his comment to come off as brash, even though it did. You glanced up at him over the top to your glass, your eyes narrowing slightly in amusement. He quickly corrected himself with a light clear of his throat. “Not...that, that’s a bad thing. You..did well.”

Talk about awkward, you and he hadn’t spoken much since your employment over the past few months. You were undoubtedly curious about this handsome man with hair the color of fire. All dressed in black and a wielder of a claymore. He had to have some form of immense physical strength to do so and it only made you wonder what else he could do.

“Why thank you Master Diluc.” Your lips curled into a coy smile as you peeked up at him over the rim of your glass once more. His eyes were like flames too, and his gaze made you burn. It’s strange, so many people address him as Master Diluc regularly and yet you were the only person that was able to stoke the fire within him. Intentionally or not he enjoyed the way it rolled off your tongue and he wanted to hear it again. His hand stopped moving in the glass and he set it down neatly next to the others that were lined up.

“There’s no need to thank me, everyone deserves recognition for their hard work.” He played it cool, you’ll give him that. You stood up, hopping off the stool to the bar, only to walk around it and move past him. You were shorter than he was, he saw the top of your head. He was in the midst of asking you what you were doing but you stopped in front of him to drop to your knees. He fucking froze, he watched you completely unsure of what was going to happen next. He prayed to the gods that you weren’t going to do what he wanted you to do. He wouldn’t be able to keep it together otherwise and he doubted he’d stop you. With a cheeky grin you stood back up with a large jug of homemade grape juice in a hand. He exhaled quietly, letting out a silent sigh that caught in his throat. His face remained straight with a hint of a slight irritable frown threatening the corners of his lips. You proceeded to stand in front of him, turning your back to him to pour a glass of his favorite beverage.

“I know you don’t drink and I heard you liked grape juice from your brother. Why not sit and join me for a while?”

His eyes drifted down the back of your figure before he stepped aside shamefully, Kaeya rubbed off on him more than he cared to admit. Even so, he was ignoring any and all signals you were sending him. Or at least he was trying his very best to. Certainly nothing came that easy— a passing thought you both shared. He sat beside you at the bar, it was silent for a little while. You looked at him with a slight turn of your head and moved to place a hand on your cheek. He lowered the glass from his face and looked over at you. Seeing him up close was making you nervous, you thought you had it in you to seduce this man but you began having second thoughts. He stared at you as if he was trying to read you like a book. It only made things more complicated which lead to you doubting yourself even more. Kaeya never made you this nervous even when he flirted with you.

“My brother told you I liked grape juice what a nuisance.” He said, breaking the silence; he had to the cat ripped out your tongue. You looked at the glass jug and then at him and finally smiled, breaking a light sweat from your overthinking.

“O-Oh, yes haha.. he was teasing you quite a bit.” Diluc didn’t find it amusing Kaeya could get under his skin like it was his job. A light ‘tch’ left his lips as he raised his glass. You followed suit needing more liquid courage than you initially thought. “It’s okay,” You sighed out, you cheeks warming from the bitter sweet drink. “Apple juice is superior in any case.” Diluc looked at you and a light smile crossed his features as he shook his head.

“It’s not.” He stated, “At all in fact.” You caught his semi playful gaze, you narrowed your eyes a little at the comment. “Sunsettia juice is even better in all aspects.” You chuckled and lowered your hand onto the table.

“Coming from the juice enthusiast himself why am I not surprised.” Diluc smirked a bit, finding your comment funny. He looked at you and your radiantly warm smile; it really did resemble that of the morning and setting sun. The two of you remained there conversing with each other well into the night, losing track of time. He hadn’t felt this at ease with anyone by his side in a while. Jean was a great friend to talk to but she was so busy he rarely got to speak with her. He was too in his own right, running the wine industry in Monstadt was no easy task.

“Do you enjoy working here?” He asked as you stood up to stretch, the tables in the back still needed to be cleared, a few drinking tankards, bottles and glasses were scattered about. His question made you think, you loved the night atmosphere of the tavern and the people that came with it.

“Of course I do, it’s very inviting I dare say more than Cats Eye.” You looked his way with a grin he stood up along with you a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Though I do have my work cut out for me here.” You quipped lightly before making your way to the back of the bar where a wooden bench table sat nestled in the corner with a small cabinet and barrel behind it. Diluc followed after to aide in an easy clean up you worked hard enough for tonight. With your back turned you bend over the table without fully walking around it to reach for the glasses and tankards. Your arms were quite short given your stature, without thinking too deeply into his actions Dilic stood halfway behind you to grab the bottle.

“It’s fine to take a break once in a while. There is no need to overwork yourself.” He stated plainly as he picked up the second bottle that sat next to the first. Unbeknownst to him you felt his presence the moment he stepped up behind you. He smelled like a freshly lit fire in the middle of the Whispering Woods his warmth drew you in. You stepped back somewhat unintentionally, your backside grazing him lightly as you turned around to face him. Even on your toes you wouldn’t be at eye level, he stared down at you a bit embarrassed by what he believed was his fault. He opened his mouth to apologize, you couldn’t stop yourself from stealing a kiss. When your lips pressed against his in a sweetened and heated kiss, you noticed Diluc tensed up. The bottles he had fell over onto the surface of the table. Upon hearing that you pulled away and stood flat footed against the edge of the able. You avoided looking at him and tugged on the ends of your hair sheepishly.

“Sorry I...don’t know what came over me, I thought maybe...“ With your half hearted apology you trailed off looking up at Diluc who stared down at you with a perplexed look in his eye. With his gloved hand he reached up to cup your cheek and leaned down to press his lips firmly against yours. His other hand moved up to hold the other side of your cheek. He wanted to kiss you the moment everyone left. Your lips moved in time with his, your hands finding themselves holding onto the sides of his coat. Without breaking the kiss, he lowered his hands to your waist and then to your thighs. In one swift movement he effortlessly lifted you to sit you on top of the table. The bottles on the surface rattled upon him doing so, slightly moving the table in the process. Your hands moved up his chest from his sides as his own slipped further down your legs to hold onto your waist. His pants were growing tighter by the second, you were so beautiful and he hadn’t voiced it yet. Not that he was given the chance to, the moment you both came up for air you pulled him into another fierce kiss, you legs locking around him in efforts to draw him closer. You needed him to ruin you on that table top and he wasn’t going to deny you of one of life’s simple pleasures. After all this man made it so that people could drink happily within the safety of Angel’s Share. Your tongue moved past your lips and Diluc gladly glided his own over yours to gain access. His hand moved back up to your cheek only to slip down to your neck to hold you in place as his other hand moved up the side of your thigh to squeeze. His leather gloves felt so good on your skin, you wanted to feel more of him.

Your hands moved from his sides to his pants, fumbling with the belts and buttons to try and get them loose. Diluc moved to kiss your neck, his warm lips trailing hot kisses against your soft skin. He made an audible sound, a muffled moan as he kissed the nape of your neck. You tugged him closer upon finally undoing his bottoms. His hand wandered down your side and moved to hitch up your work tunic, the other pulling onto the string to your top. He yanked it down to reveal your bare chest, as he exposed your legs and thighs. He was going to thoroughly enjoy fucking you on top of that table. A slight smile crossed his features as his index finger and thumb moved down to grip your chin, he tilted your head up to look into your eyes. Never has a man made you this weak with such a simple gaze.

“Is this what you want?” He asked quietly, he wasn’t going to begin without asking you. Your brows furrowed in need and you nodded as your eyes searched his face. His own were a bit complacent when he didn’t move to give you what he knew you wanted; he wanted to hear you say it. He only moved in to kiss you once more before his lips found the skin of your neck again.

“Diluc..please.” You whined, he smiled lightly against your neck and kept kissing. You wondered why he was only kissing you, unbeknownst to you his hand moved down in between your legs and his crotch to free his fully hardened member from the confides of his trousers. “M-Master Di—“ Your breath hitched in your throat and you moaned out the rest of his name, a deep growl moving past his lips as he slipped inside of you. He stretched you out continuously as you contracted around his length in utter bliss. Your legs squeezed around him and his hands gripped your waist and thigh. Pulling you closer to his chest as he bottomed out inside of you. Your eyes rolled back as he pushed himself further; your lips parted in a light moan and your hands tangled in his red locks. Diluc’s hand moved from your thigh to your neck to hold you in place briefly as he leaned back to look at your face. It was intoxicating, if he could get drunk off your facial expressions he would. He pulled back and thrusted hard into you, your body jerked up and the table moved along with the bottles and glasses on top of it.

You cried out in pleasure and your hips bucked against his. He bit down on his bottom lip to surpress a groan, he thrusted once again, finding a hard and steady rhythm that left your body jerking upwards against the table and your chest exposed for him to see. An alluring sight that made him thrust even harder and your loud moans to fill the atmosphere of the bar. Mixed in were his own light goans and mild grunts, even as he laid you flat onto the table he didn’t stop. Though the pace slowed a bit, he became more forceful with his movements which made your back arch into his chest and your legs shake. You were going to cum a lot harder than you expected, you could feel it and so could he, you caught wind of a faint smirk that slipped across his face as he kissed you. A kiss deep enough where you could lose oneself. Your hands tugged at his hair and your face pleaded with a need for release.

The bottles, tankards and glasses had since fell onto the floor of Angel’s Share. Not that either of you could be bothered by it now. As your climax rushed at you like a battering ram Diluc groaned out low into your ear the sound made your body quiver, you were about to milk him dry. Your hands slipped out of his hair and fell back onto the table as you convulsed in an intense high. Diluc held you in his arms and sat you back up, with your legs wrapped around him once again. He turned and sat on the edge of the table with you on top, allowing you to ride out the rest of your orgasm as he filled your depths with his hot seed. The feeling itself made you shutter as he buried his face into your chest and his arms wrapped around you, the moan he let out was something you could never get tired of hearing. The area in Angel’s Share that you two both shared had grown hot, the sweat you broke out was enough to cause your breathing to be ragged.

“Master Diluc...” You mumbled into his hair with closed eyes and a smile, his hands rested on your waist as his head rested on your chest. He moved back to look up at you, his hand moving to brush your cheek. He kissed your cheek as he pulled back to look at your face.

“Yes?” He replied, a smile crossing his features, you grinned at him finding the humor in his answer. You kissed him once more, this time slowly to savor the taste of his lips. He looked up at you, his eyes flickering like fire. “There’s going to be a shipment at the Dawn Winery from Liyue, Charles usually comes to pick it up but, I trust you enough to be there in his stead.” Upon hearing those words you knew you’d see him again.

“I will gladly be there, Master Diluc.”

Bonus

After your visit to the Dawn winery a few day ago, you decided to get an afternoon drink at Angel’s Share. Outside you ran into Kaeya and Diluc sitting at one of the tables outside. Kaeya spotted you first of course and when your eyes met Diluc’s a smile surfaced onto your face and his own softened a bit. Which, caught Kaeya’s attention quickly; being the absurdly perceptive man that he was.

“You’re here early, I thought your shift doesn’t start until sundown.” Kaeya spoke with a smile that was suspiciously sly. Diluc sat there with his arms crossed and a placid frown on his face, you sat with them and looked at Kaeya unamused.

“I thought I’d get a drink before my shift, I’ve been quite busy as of late.” You replied moving a hand to rest on your cheek, Diluc was silent and Kaeya looked between you both before his eye settled on you.

“Have you now? You know, a few days ago I went to the Dawn Winery looking for you and Diluc seeing as Charles said you were going to be there.” Kaeya held up a letter from grandmaster Jean and waved it in the air idly. “I needed to deliver a letter from the active grandmaster to Diluc and hoped I’d run into you there and yet...I couldn’t find either of you.” Diluc frowned deeper and your smile began to fade slowly, your hand moved up casually to cover your mouth a bit and Kaeya’s smile grew as he went on. “So, I took it upon myself to look around given your maids told me you were in his study.” Diluc’s expression shifted from displeasure to pure annoyance. You were a bit nervous though wondering if you two had been found out already. You knew the answer in the back of your mind though. “When I couldn’t find you there I saw a maid walk out of the west wing hallway with blush staining her cheeks so, naturally I went that way and much to my surprise there you two were behind the semi closed doors to dear brothers bedroom-“ Diluc snatched the letter from his brother and narrowed his eyes. He stood up and narrowed his eyes at him.

“You finished ?” He asked, short tempered as always, you were a blushing mess on the other hand, with your face covered in attempts to hide your embarrassment. Of all the ways to be found out, it had to be Kaeya happening across you two at the Dawn Winery! Kaeya chuckled lightly and leaned back in the chair.

“Ah-Ah you interrupted me brother, I was just getting to the good part.” You peeked up at him and shook your head Dliuc let out and irritable sigh and turned his back to Kaeya and then looked over at you, a smile on his face one he’d only show to you really.

“I’ll see you later.” You nodded with a warmth to your cheeks as he walked off ignoring Kaeya all together. The three of you knowing Diluc was working tonight with you again. It left you two sitting there in a painful kind of silence where only one of you were inflicted and the other found it jovial.

“He must like you.” Kaeya sighed raising his wine glass to his lips, you glanced over at him with a slight glare and he smiled your way.

“Your point?” You retorted, it lead to him shrugging lightly as he finished the drink. He stood up, preparing to take his leave, moving to place a hand on his hip.

“None really, it’s just he got to you before I could.” Kaeya wouldn’t admit to him being beaten at his own game, he also wouldn’t voice at how it made him proud and happy for his brother at the same time. You looked at him with a straight face and he chortled. “You’ll make each other happy, especially with the sex you’re having. I’m not worried.” He patted your shoulder before he walked off in the opposite direction of his brother. Leaving you there blushing and with the future to think about, one where both you snd Diluc shared.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc #diluc x reader #I deadass had to open the game to describe the bar and where he was fucking you lmfaooo!!#I feel like Diluc is a great kisser bc Kaeya gave him tips on how to do it right randomly one day #like — Kaeya: You’re awkward with women so let me tell you how to kiss right Diluc: :/ go away #genshin impact x gender neutral reader

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 2 years

Note

congrats on the follower milestone!! can i please request 13 & 21 for abel or santi from the small details prompt list? thank you!

Part of Youvebeenlivingfictional’s 3K Follower Celebration Thank you!! Also 'brick' is New York slang for cold

Warnings: Just fluff and smooches!!

The progression of your relationship with Abel has been relatively slow. There are a few reasons for this.

For one thing, as you begin, you’re not exactly on the same page. You’re almost entirely certain that when Abel is flirting with you, he’s simply being polite. Abel thinks that when you make short, almost light responses to his flirtations, you’re playing hard to get.

For another, when the two of you do reach a point of understanding, there’s a self-conscious embarrassment that begins to pervade your every interaction with him. You can’t believe that you thought what you did; you feel silly sometimes, speaking to him.

But when Abel proposes that the two of you go to dinner, and that you start from scratch, you don’t hesitate to take him up on it.

A third reason that things move slowly—you work together. It’s not the same as when Anna and Abel worked together; there had been no power imbalance in the office, no propriety that the two of them had had to tip-toe around. It’s quite different for the two of you. You’re his subordinate, have always been, and working with him day in and day out doesn’t put a drain on your relationship, per se, but it does test it, sometimes.

Your days are spent stealing glances and shading smiles from others. You share tender brushes of fingers as you pass off files, cups, forms. You fight the urge to wink, and to step into his office, and lock the door behind yourself, and squirrel him away for a few hours. You can’t afford to, and you know how it could impact his image, and his business.

The office is so busy these days, and is such a flurry in the colder months, so to find yourself alone with Abel in the office is a surprise.

“What are you still doing here?” You hear Abel ask.

You glance back, brows raising before turning back.

“I’m um…I’m just sorting away a few files, some things that were in my out tray that I didn’t get to earlier.”

“Has everyone else gone home?” You note that the sound of his voice is just a touch closer this time, but you shift through the few things left in your arm before you open a drawer, tucking away the requisite folder before shutting the drawer.

“Yep,” You answer, reaching for the next file and tucking it away in turn, “Debbie was the last person out, that was, uh….Like…Twenty minutes ago? I mean, she technically left, like twice, she came back because she’d forgotten her hat.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, I mean, glad she got it, it’s frickin’ brick out.”

“Have you much left to do?”

“No, I’ve got, um…Three more here—”

“Alright.”

You’re confused as Abel plucks the files out of your arms. You watch as he turns, setting them down on a nearby desk before he reaches out, hooking his two fingers into the waistband of your pants. He tugs you close, and you stumble just a little bit as you drag your feet. “What has gotten into you?” You laugh softly, “Abel! We’re in the office—”

“Alone,” He points out, lowering his voice as he leans back against the desk, “We’re in the office alone.”

You bite your lip, glancing around as he pulls you to stand between his legs. You know that you’re alone, but some little part of you feels like someone will pop up at any second. But Abel is smiling and relaxed, his hands smoothing over your hips. You crowd just a touch closer, ducking your head and pecking his lips. Abel smiles against your lips as you slide your hands over his shoulders before looping your arms around his neck.

The two of you haven’t had time like this. Your evenings often feel rushed, with the expectation of going home early because the both of you have early mornings the following day. It’s ironic that the place where the two of you find a moment of calm together is in the office.

Abel lifts a hand, cradling your jaw as he tips his head to the side, teasing his tongue along the seam of your lips. You part them with a quiet sigh, leaning more fully against his chest as he strokes his thumb over your cheek. Your tongue slides against his tenderly, smiling a touch as Abel hums contentedly against your lips.

“You know,” You mumble as you lean back a touch, grinning as Abel leans up, pecking the corner of your lips, your chin, your cheek, as you go on, “I’ve still got to put those files away.”

“They can wait,” He murmurs, brushing his lips along your jaw, “They’re not going anywhere.”

He lowers his arms, wrapping them around your middle as he tips his head, pecking your lips again.

“I’ll bet that we both forget to put them away—and Debbie’ll be confused as to why they’re on your desk.”

“Why don’t we worry about that tomorrow, huh?” Abel nudges his nose against yours. You smile, sliding a hand up into his hair and gently massaging his scalp. “I want you to remember that you said that in the morning.”

Abel chuckles, brushing his lips gently against yours.

“You’ll just have to come into my office,” He murmurs, “And remind me.”

#Abel Morales x Reader #Abel Morales x You #Abel Morales/Reader #Abel Morales/You #Abel Morales fic #Abel Morales imagine #asks #replies #requests #follower celebration #youvebeenlivingfictionals 3k follower celebration #youvebeenlivingfictional 3k follower celebration #Smoochy Abel

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wlntrsldler · 4 years

Note

hey!! love ur writings so far, could i request you belong with me with fred weasley? thanks! <3

PROMPT: based on you belong with me by taylor swift (an installment of my taylor swift x harry potter series. to read more about it, click here) Fred realizes that he loves Y/N after seeing her so close to George.

WC: 2.6K+ words

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

you belong with me (f.w one shot)

“Sorry,” you mumbled, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of your nose as you collided into someone’s chest. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the ginger boy to the right of you, flashing his toothy grin at Angelina. She laughed at his joke, brushing against his arm in a flirty manner. Your heart fell apart at the sight, almost making you want to crush your glasses under your foot to prevent you from seeing anymore. But it was too late— the image was already burned into your mind.

“Y/N,” the voice called, waving a hand in front of your face.

Suddenly, you were pulled back to reality. You looked up at the person you ran into, flustered that you completely forgot their existence. George. You visibly relaxed, shoulders rolling back into a less tense state, “Sorry, Georgie.”

“Fred, again?” he asked, a sympathetic look on his face as he watched you stare at his older twin longingly. George took some of the books you had pressed against your chest, helping you carry the weight of the stress that occupied your mind. “Will you ever tell him how you feel?”

At his words, your eyes widened. You shook your head furiously, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, as you bounced up and down on your toes. You gulped, looking back at the older twin, who left his earlier spot and was no nowhere to be found. You frowned, “Never, Georgie. He’s my best friend and I wouldn’t want to mess that up.”

He cocked an eyebrow, faking a look of hurt on his face, “I’ll pretend you didn’t just call him your best friend when I’m right here-”

“You know what I mean.”

“As I was saying,” he shot you an annoyed look for interrupting him before he continued. “He may be my brother and your best friend but you’re my best friend too, Y/N. I’d rather not watch my best friend get hurt over and over again.”

You sighed, lifting your glasses up to rub your tired eyes, “It’s not worth it. I’d rather stay like this and keep Fred in my life than mess up what we have because of my stupid feelings.”

George rolled his eyes, wanting to somehow find a way to convince you to tell his twin how you felt, but when he saw your face drop at the sight of Fred and Angelina in a lip lock, he decided to move on from the topic. He wrapped a protective arm around you, leading you to the other side of the castle. “Come on, Y/N. There’s nothing for you to see here.”

The day continued to drag on with everyone whispering about their excitement for the Yule Ball. You tried your hardest not to roll your eyes at the constant gushing from the girls you passed about their dates. George chuckled beside you, copying the scowl on your face, and gagging as Hermione and Ginny talked about their dates.

You looked up at him as you sat down next to each other, “Who are you going with, Georgie?”

“No idea,” he replied, “Wanna be my date?”

“George Weasley, do not take me as your date because you pity me.”

“Hey, I’m sure I’d have more fun with you than with any other girl I may ask,” he argued, nudging you with his elbow. “What do you say, Y/N? Let’s show my dumber and less attractive twin what he’s missing out on.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, unable to stop the smile that appeared on your face. “Can’t wait.”

George saw you like a sister— almost like Ginny. He wanted to protect you and make sure you were alright, that nobody could hurt you. It just happened to be that it was his daft and dear twin brother to be the perpetrator. He saw this one coming, really. Growing up together, he saw the way you and Fred always had a special connection. It wasn’t until you began to understand your feelings did you stray closer to him than Fred. He took pride in being the more sensitive brother, more observant than the older one, so he always made sure he was there to pick up the pieces after everything happened, like a brother would.

George caught onto your feelings for his brother a few years ago when he saw you staring at him a bit too long for it to be friendly. For years he watched you pine after Fred, too afraid to face rejection or to lose your friendship to say anything. If it were up to George, he would lock you and Fred in a room together until you confessed to him how you felt or until Fred got his head out of his arse long enough to figure it out himself. But he knew it wasn’t up to him so he had to go through the pain of watching his two bestest friends in the world run around in circles. It’s pathetic if you asked him.

You weren’t exactly discrete with your feelings. You were sure all of the Weasleys— Charlie included, who hasn’t seen you since you were 13 when he took a break from tending for his beloved dragons, choosing to visit the Burrow for the summer— caught on to your affections, apart from Fred. Molly would often assign the both of you to do chores together. Even Harry, the most oblivious person you’ve ever met in your life, knew of your feelings for Fred.

You’ve come to the conclusion that nobody could be that clueless. Fred was simply ignoring your feelings so he didn’t have to be the one to break your heart.

The night of the Yule Ball was equally magical as it was confusing for Fred. You descended from the steps, looking gorgeous as ever, snatching the breath of everyone who awaited at the bottom. George beamed proudly at you, eyes twinkling as he watched you strut down with confidence. Fred’s back was turned, not seeing your entrance as he was too busy chatting with his date. You didn’t expect any less from him— he was a gentleman.

It wasn’t until Ron spoke up did Fred finally turn around to look at you. Ron’s eyes bulged out of their sockets, “Blimey, Y/N, when did you get so fit?”

When Fred turned around, his jaw fell to the floor. It was like everyone else disappeared. Angelina’s chatter was reduced to white noise. The sound of the music from inside the Yule Ball was faint. All he could focus on was you.

Ron has a point, Fred thought.

You looked absolutely gorgeous. The color of your dress complimented your skin so well. You looked so mature, no longer the shy girl that he and his brother took a liking to. You were Y/N. And Godric, you were absolutely breathtaking.

Hermione slapped Ron’s arm, scowling, “Ronald, that’s not very nice.”

You chuckled, eyes darting over to Fred for a split second. You blushed when you saw him staring back, mouth agape, like he couldn’t believe it was you. You immediately moved your eyes to the younger twin, taking his outstretched hand before he leaned closer to your ear. George’s breath tickled your skin, making you shiver. He whispered, “Looks like you got his attention.”

You were flustered, hiding your face in the crook of George’s neck to hide the redness of your cheeks. He laughed at you, pulling away to guide you to the entrance. Because your back was turned, you didn’t see the confused look on Fred’s face.

Since when did that start? He made a mental note to ask his twin about it later, an unfamiliar feeling overcoming his senses as he watched George’s hand find the small of your back.

“Fred?”

He snapped out of his thoughts, now aware of the beautiful girl by his side. He turned his head to look at Angelina, an apologetic look on his face. He sent her a small smile, “Sorry, love.”

“No worries, you ready to go in?” She asked, looping her arm through his. He nodded, clearing his throat, trying to shake the image of you and his brother out of his head. As they walked in, Angelina spoke again, “I didn’t know Y/N and George were a thing.”

“They’re not,” Fred blurted out, blinking rapidly as Angelina shot him a quizzical look. He was sure his cheeks were now pink, a sure sign of his embarrassment, “Uh, I mean- I don’t think they are, at least. I’m sure they would’ve told me. He’s my brother and she’s my best friend, after all.”

You would’ve told him, right?

Fred would be lying if he said there wasn’t a weight lifted off his chest when George stumbled into their shared room at 11 PM. He couldn’t bring himself to spend the night with Angelina because the thought of you and George plagued his mind. He shivered at the thought that George would take you back to your room, and Merlin knows what else might ensue. Fred didn’t want to think about it.

He laid in the dark, hoping that the younger twin would make his way inside at a reasonable hour. He still had on his dress shirt but his tie was undone as he laid against the frame of his bed, arms folded behind his neck. His shoes were in two different places in the room. He quite literally shook them off his feet, frustrated that he didn’t know what he was feeling. Fred perked up at any sound that might indicate George’s arrival, deflating when the sound of footsteps walked past his door.

Finally, George walked in, shoes in hand but the rest of his ensemble still neatly on his body. Well, that’s a good sign, Fred thought. George flicked the light switch on, making Fred hiss at the sudden light. The younger twin threw his shoes at Fred, thinking there was an intruder in their room, half-expecting Fred to still be out with Angelina.

Fred squinted his eyes, “What was that for?”

“Oops, sorry,” George chuckled, undoing his tie and plopping onto his bed. “Didn’t expect you to be back so early.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“Why is that my dear brother?”

Fred felt bile rise up his throat, hating the words that rolled off his tongue, “You and Y/N looked rather cozy.”

George cocked an eyebrow, leaning forward to interrogate his brother, “Is that a problem?”

Fred was too worked up to detect the teasing tone in his twin’s voice. He cleared his throat, choosing to look everywhere else but at George’s smirking face. “Yes it is a problem. I’d like a heads-up next time my brother and my best friend start shagging.”

He snorted, “We’re not shagging, you git. We’re just best friends.”

“I thought I was her best friend too and she didn’t go to the ball with me. She went with you, so I find it hard to believe that you’re just friends.”

“Believe what you want, dearest brother,” George hummed, getting up to get ready for bed. “But did you even ask her to the Ball? I’m sure she would’ve said yes if you did.”

“Well, I’m dating Angelina so that wouldn’t work.”

“Precisely,” George rolled his eyes, throwing his balled up tie in his brother’s direction. “That’s why she went with me. You’re dating Angelina, so what’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“I do not have my knickers in a twist.” Fred huffed, getting up to do the same. Silence fell upon the two boys. George was enjoying their confrontation a bit too much, while Fred was now rethinking everything he thought he knew. Was it possible that he was jealous?

No, that couldn’t possibly be it.

Can it?

You’ve preoccupied Fred’s mind since the Yule Ball. Although, he hasn’t brought up his suspicions— and as much as he won’t admit it, his jealousy— over your relationship with his twin, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. It’s gotten in the way of a lot of things.

For starters, Angelina grew tired of Fred’s absentmindedness, forgetting dates and always daydreaming or staring off to where you and George sat when he was with her. She broke it off with him, and truth be told, he was relieved.

He skipped over to where you and George sat, prying the both of you away from each other as he squeezed himself between you. He ignored George’s protests and turned his back on his brother, facing you with a comedic smile on his face, “Hello, Y/N.”

You raised your eyebrows, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, “Yes, Freddie?”

“Just wanted to see how my best girl is doing.”

You shook your head playfully, trying to hide the obvious blush on your cheeks. George giggled from behind Fred, getting up to leave the two of you alone. George knew his plan would work.

You pushed Fred off a bit, his body heat making you more flustered than ever, “Put a cork in it, Weasley. I’m sure your girlfriend would not appreciate you saying that to me.”

“My huh?” he cocked his head to one side, a twinkle of mischief in his eye as he explained his situation to you. “I don’t have one of those anymore, my dearest.”

You dropped your quill, shocked, as you turned to the red head beside you. You imagined he would be much sadder, given the fact that he no longer had a girlfriend, but the grin on his face told another story. It made you believe that the boy in front of you was pulling your leg. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “Not funny, Weasley. Don’t joke about that.”

“Not joking,” he mused, shrugging it off like it was no big deal. “We broke up like two weeks ago.”

“And you’re not in shambles right now because..?”

“Because it was bound to end, anyway.”

A puzzled look took over your features as you gave Fred your undivided attention. His eyes were studying your face, a small smile tugging on his perfect lips. He leaned over and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, keeping his hand there longer than necessary, cupping your jaw. You managed to speak despite the shocks that shot through your body— albeit it was more of a squeak, but you were proud of yourself for even uttering something out, “Why is that?”

“Someone…” he trailed off, brushing your skin with the pad of his thumb before blushing madly, like he just became aware of what he’s been doing. You suddenly missed his touch when he pulled his hand away. Fred cleared his throat, “Someone else caught my attention.”

You whispered, still half-dazed from his previous action, “Oh.”

“Y/N?” Fred mumbled, eyes glued to your lips.

“Mhm?”

He licked his lips, inching closer to you. His breath tickled your lips, making your heartbeat a million miles an hour. “Can I?”

“If you want,” you gulped, allowing yourself to melt under his touch.

“I’ve never wanted something more than this. You belong with me.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Weasley.”

He smirked before letting his lips touch yours. He pulled you closer to his body, almost forgetting that you were both in public. It’s not like he cared much over an audience anyway. He only pulled away from you when he felt his ear being twisted. Fred grimaced in pain, eyes screwed shut.

You giggled as you watched Professor McGonagall picking him up by the ear. She wore a fond look on her face that she tried to disguise with a scowl, “Mr. Weasley, I will not have you corrupt one of my best students.”

“Come on, Professor,” he groaned, sending you a cheeky wink, “With the way she was kissing me back, she was the one corrupting me.”

You flushed red, placing your face in your hands, “Weasley!”

Unfortunately, he got a week’s worth of detention. It was worth it because he got a girlfriend in return.

TAGS: @rexorangecouny

#harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine #frances x taylor swift x harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x yn #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley one shot #frances writes #frances song fics

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plant-flwrs · 3 years

Note

hi! could you do a draco x reader imagine where it’s enemies to lovers and one night at a party draco gets drunk and confesses his feelings?

drunk // draco malfoy

masterlist!

a/n: i literally had an idea exactly like this n my drafts omg but it was smut :0 wut r the odds. n e way, hope u like it, thanks for the request anon!!

summary: You and Draco are enemies until one drunken night leads to a confession of secret feelings.

(4.4k)

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It was no secret that the Slytherin house was plagued by Draco Malfoy. The house was split; people who went along with Malfoy’s bullying and those who hated the boy. You were proud to say you definitely did not get along with Draco.

Over the many years of mutual torment between the two of you, you had both improved on your ways you made the other’s life a living hell.

This week, you had decided to casually mention to Ron that in his sleep, Draco sucked his thumb. You had no idea if this was true, of course, but you knew Ron would tell everyone he knew.

In retort, Draco had been stealing any of your school work you left out in the common room. He would return it a few days later with all your work erased.

This was typical. It would have been unusual if you didn’t have the added stress Draco gave you.

The worst part was the classes you shared. You shared a fair amount of them, being in the same house and finding a lot of your courses to be the same. The both of you were fairly smart, proving to be good competition.

Charms was your least favorite. You had an awful memory, and when you had to remember the physical movements with the vocal spell, you struggled miserably. Draco did fine in Charms, which made it even worse.

Today was particularly difficult, having to memorize at least ten spells, each with different movements and verbal aspects. You sulked out of the room, loosening your green tie in frustration.

“Finding Charms a little hard today?” Draco mocked, raising his voice so it mimicked that of a baby’s.

“Not as hard as that Transfiguration test was for you last week. How much like a tea pot did your poor little mouse look like? I seem to recall it still had its tail,” you retorted, feeling better already about Charms as you looked at Draco’s sour expression.

“So what? What good will a mouse teapot do me? At least I can cast a gouging charm without nearly killing half the class,” Draco shot back, taking an intimidating step closer to you.

The two of you stood off in the middle of the hallway. This often happened after Charms, for it was the last class of the day and neither of you had anything better to do than shout at each other.

You rolled your eyes at the boy and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I didn’t even come close to killing anyone, Draco. Your such a drama queen,” you teased him, enjoying the flush on his cheeks.

“Oh shut up,” he managed to still sound fierce, even with the pink hint on his face.

“Gonna cry about it?” you teased further, hoping to rile him up more.

He squinted his eyes at you and gave you one last critical look. He lifted his lip in a sneer and stalked off, Goyle and Crabbe following after him.

That was how you and Draco interacted. You would tease him, press his buttons, and he would get incredibly angry. It either ended with his storming off, or him saying something hurtful enough that actually made you sink to his level. He didn’t do it very frequently, because usually it resulted in him having a bruised eye for a few weeks.

You were happy to stand up to Draco, because not many other people did it. He was often too favored by Snape to ever get too badly hurt by Harry, and everyone else was too scared of him. Snape didn’t often interfere with the interactions between you and Draco, and you assumed he simply did not care.

You left Charms for the day feeling significantly more confident than when you had entered. You failed miserably at the assignments, and that upset you, but your little victory over Draco made up for it. You walked with Pansy to the Black Lake, books clutched tight to your chest as shields against the cold air nipping your skin. Your scarf clung to your neck and did its best to defend your vulnerable lips.

“You really can’t go?” you asked again, adding a slight whine to your voice.

“I can’t,” Pansy replied regretfully, “I’ve got loads of work to do, and my mum’s been on me about it recently.”

Pansy had fallen behind in more than a few of her courses. You supposed you could blame yourself a little, but didn’t like to think that hard about it. You and Pansy had been fast and loose recently, attending almost any and every party you could find, and spending a little more money than usual on certain substances. You justified it, though, thinking you’d be spending just as much at Hogsmeade every weekend.

“It won’t be any fun without you, though,” you said, still hoping she would change her mind.

“You’ll have Daphne,” Pansy said teasingly, “give her enough firewhisky and she’s a hoot.”

You giggled with Pansy, thinking back to the last time Daphne got drunk at a party. She had climbed on almost every elevated surface to dance, and when she ran out of tables to stand on, she had tried walking on the heads of the nearest first years.

“Can I help you on some of your work? Get it out of the way?” you offered, practically desperate at this point.

“Would you? That might actually work,” Pansy exclaimed, rushing to the nearest tree to sit against with her school things.

You trailed after her, sitting next to her and pulling out some of your quills. You looked dutifully at Pansy’s Ancient Runes work, starting to write in your best attempt at your best friend’s handwriting.

You knew there was an ulterior motive in wanting Pansy at the party, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. She was usually the only person who could effectively stop you from drunkenly interacting with Draco. She was the only one who could keep you two separate. As much as you hated Draco, something in your drunk subconscious always made you drawn to him. You needed her at that party.

Pansy stole a glance from her Potions work, looking at you. She smiled thankfully, tucking her short hair behind her ear and returning to her work.

The two of your worked silently for as long as you could, but the sun was against you. It crept away, hiding behind trees and clouds. The two of you began to collect Pansy’s scattered books in the dusk, some faint and lingering sunlight peaking through trees branches lighting the ground. You pulled your robes closer to you, feeling the air get colder as the sun was no longer there to warm you. You and Pansy struggled back to the castle, avoiding stray tree roots carefully.

The both of you heard leaves crunching from a few feet away. You ignored it, figuring it was just some other students making their way up to the castle for dinner, too. The light was fading more and more, and you and Pansy were just about to clamber out of the heavily forested area when something hard knocked into your shoulder from behind. Draco had come from the left of you, walking past you and throwing his shoulder into yours. You stumbled forwards, but Pansy’s vigilant hand was quick to steady you before you could fall forwards.

“Merlin!” you said out of surprise, before you realized who it was.

His hair looked white in the moonlight that now illuminated the field. The bottom half of his face was shadowed by a tree, but you could tell by the glint in his eyes that he was smirking. You rolled your eyes, feeling your feet firmly planted on the ground again, and began walking past Draco with Pansy’s arm looped in yours.

“Scare ya?” Draco snarled, taking a few long strides to walk in pace with you and Pansy.

“The only thing about you that scares me, Draco, is your nasty breath,” you said, pretending to sound sweet.

Draco scoffed, and you made a disgusted face, pretending to smell his breath from the few feet you were away from him.

“Honestly Draco,” Pansy said from beside you, struggling to hide her smile but going along with your joke and lifting her hand to cover her nose, “you’d think some of your daddy’s money would go towards toothpaste.”

You laughed earnestly, looking to Draco so you wouldn’t miss the offended face you knew he always made. He wasn’t doing it though, his brows weren’t furrowed and his lips weren’t curled. He looked off. His eyes narrowed but his lips were spread into some sort of crooked grin.

You narrowed your eyes back at him in suspicion, which he noticed. He quickly snapped out of whatever he was in, and his usual sneer was directed towards you and Pansy as he sulked off to the castle.

You and Pansy sat at the Slytherin table in your usual spots. Draco was a few people away from the both of you, as he usually was, but you both ignored him. It was easy to do, especially recently. Blaise had taken a peculiar interest in Pansy, and wherever Blaise went followed his friend Klein.

Blaise was busy fawning over Pansy, watching her with a dazed look as she brushed her hair from her face. Klein kept his eyes locked on you, something you did not mind.

The boy was a year ahead of you, and he was the interest of just about every Slytherin girl. His green eyes were piercing, especially against the black hair that fell onto his forehead. He always kept his tie remarkably straight, and you often found yourself twirling it in your fingers to tease him.

Tonight, he and Blaise walked with you and Pansy around the grounds before curfew.

“Are you going to the party on Saturday?” Blaise asked Pansy, bringing his arm up to wrap around her shoulders.

“I don’t know yet,” she said, and upon seeing your pitiful face she continued, “I’ll try, but no guarantees.”

“Are you going?” Klein asked you, pulling a hand from his pocket to adjust his green tie.

“Of course,” you smirked, “I would never miss a party.”

Klein stared at you for a moment longer, and aware of his gaze, you bit your lip. You liked to mess with him, he was always so uptight and serious, it was fun to see him unwind just at your little actions.

You and Pansy said goodnight to the boys as you went to the girls dorms.

The next day was odd, for as you came down the stairs to the common room, you saw Draco. It was not odd to see Draco in the common room, but it was odd for him to not immediately find you in a room and insult you. Instead, he merely locked his eyes with yours and stared at you. When you crinkled your face in confusion, he looked away, turning his attention back down to the book perched in his lap.

“Ready for breakfast?” Pansy asked, coming from behind you on the stairs.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, still looking at Draco as you followed her out of the common room.

In Potions, Draco didn’t torment you. In Transfiguration, he only stared at you, no sneer or grimace present. Most strangely, in Charms, he didn’t even bat an eye when your wand movement was off and your spell rebounded and hit Hannah Abbot.

You apologized to Hannah profusely, even offering to walk her to the infirmary as her hand began to swell two times its normal size. She blushed, obviously embarrassed by the affliction, but insisted she could go by herself. She made sure you knew she forgave you, smiling politely as you followed her to the door and watched her go down the hallway. You shouted one last apology at her as she turned the corner, and she lifted her swelled hand in a friendly wave.

Draco watched the entire interaction from his seat, his eyes following you as you held Hannah’s large hand in yours to look at the damage you caused. He looked at the guilty expression on your face, the red tint in your cheeks. He felt two things bubbling in his stomach: adoration and rage. He felt adoration, as he had been feeling for you for a while, and felt rage because he felt this way.

He swallowed hard as your eyes met his. In your flustered and guilty state, you shot him an annoyed look. He widened his eyes, embarrassed to be caught staring, and plunged his face downward to look back into his Charms textbook.

Draco had been weird lately, you noticed. For it was the third day, Friday by now, of no loud arguments in the hall, no insults in the common room, and not even a stray dinner roll being launched at your head during dinner (yes, he did that often). You and Pansy, however, were too busy doing her late work to do anything about Draco. She really was behind, and it was hard for you to do her late work as you had new assignments to do yourself. Pansy found a similar difficulty, leading you both to spend your Friday night poured over textbooks in the common room.

“Hard at work, girls?” you and Pansy looked up to see Blaise and Klein.

They fell into the couch across form you where you sat at a wooden desk against the wall. You had pulled two large armchairs to the table, the leather giving you some sort of relief as you bent over the work. Klein’s long arms stretch the length of the two person couch, and his stalky fingers tapped against it. Blaise leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at Pansy. Klein eyed you hungrily, obviously enjoying the sight of your tie undone and your skirt riding up as you sat with your legs tucked beneath you.

Normally, you and Pansy would have engaged the boys, entertained yourselves with their mindless presence, but you had real things to do. Blaise and Klein may have been handsome, but they definitely weren’t the company you wanted right now.

“Hello Blaise,” Pansy mumbled tiredly, not looking up from the Transfiguration essay she was about to finish, “how’re you?”

“I’m alright,” he said airily, leaning back into the couch and taking Pansy’s simple question as an invitation to stay and talk.

You fought the urge to groan, not looking up form the Arithmancy problems you scrawled over and over.

“How about we sneak to the kitchens tonight?” Klein suggested, and you heard the smirk in his voice without having to look at him.

“We’re busy,” you said curtly, clenching your jaw as you came across a difficult set of numbers.

Pansy looked up at you from her paper, flashing you a warning look. You rolled your eyes, giving her an exasperated look. She raised her eyebrows, her face becoming stern. You sighed, releasing the tight grip on your quill.

“I’m sorry boys,” you forced your sweetest voice, “we’ve got loads of homework to do before the party tomorrow. Another time?”

Blaise looked disappointed, but accepting. Klein stood to his full height, and your eyes followed him as he grew. He looked down at you with a playful smirk, licking his lips.

“Of course. We’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded and Pansy waved kindly to Blaise. You decided then that you were no longer interested in Klein. He had been fun when he got flustered just from a glance, but now he was becoming like every other teenage boy. His smirks made you want to gag, and his lingering looks were creepy. You figured you’d tell him tomorrow night, if you still cared that much by then.

You and Pansy continued to work until Pansy slouched back in her chair and groaned loudly.

“I can’t get it done tonight. I’ll have to work on it tomorrow,” she pouted, but looked resolute.

You didn’t bother to attempt another guilt trip, or convince her otherwise. Pansy’s mind was made up. You had to go to this party alone. Pansy wouldn’t let you stay in the dorm all night with her, either, so it’s not like you even had a choice. At least Klein wouldn’t bother you. He seemed to only have the guts to come up to you if Blaise did too, and he wouldn’t come up to you if you weren’t with Pansy. Now all you had to do was make sure not to get roped into an argument with Draco. You had to be the bigger person for one night and make sure you wouldn’t do anything you’d regret in the morning.

Pansy was right, she couldn’t get all her work done that night. She sat on her bed with books sprawled around her. You looked at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the clothe hugging your body. You looked good, you felt good.

“You’re going to be fine,” Pansy reassured you for the tenth time as you sat at the end of her bed, “you can go to parties without me.”

“Okay, but if I come back here tonight having lost a shoe or something, it’s your fault,” you joked, smiling as Pansy laughed.

You, Daphne, and Millicent stayed in your dorm for a little while longer. You moved some clothes around in your trunk, lifting a hidden compartment at the bottom. You retrieved two bottles of firewhisky, handing them to Daphne and Millicent. You closed your trunk, meeting the impressed expressions of the girls. Usually Fred and George Weasley provided alcohol for the school, known for their impressive parties. You and Pansy, however, had your own supply you liked to keep for rainy days. While this wasn’t a rainy day, you couldn’t help the need for a little liquid courage as you had to go to your first party without your best friend. You took the bottle from Millicent and Pansy giggled as she looked up from her Ancient Rune dictionary to watch you take a large swig of the drink.

You felt it burn as it traveled down your throat, and it spread through your body like a warm blanket. You handed the bottle back to Millicent, and the three of you finished off an entire bottle. You didn’t want to go downstairs until you heard the music become loud enough, and by the time you were putting the empty bottle back in your trunk, the party roared downstairs.

The three of you said goodbye to Pansy and went to the common room. The music became louder and louder as you got closer to the party. Soon, Daphne was dragging you and Millicent to a large table with assorted drinks. You watched a boy on the other side of the table pouring himself a heavy amount of a clear liquid. He met your eyes and handed you the bottle. You looked at the label but all that was there was a cartoon drawing of a witch with bubbles spouting from her mouth. You raised your eyebrow at the boy, and he smiled, taking a sip of his drink. You filled your own cup with the liquid, drinking it quickly. It burned more than the firewhisky did, but it was still enjoyable.

You felt your head feel lighter as Daphne clasped onto your hand to pull you out to the dance floor. You danced with her, and as you moved your cup slid from your hand. You and Daphne looked at it for a moment, the cup spilled over as a wet spot formed on the carpet. You looked back up at each other and fell into a fit of giggles.

You continued to dance, looking around the crowd with ease. You felt like someone was staring at you, but you couldn’t find anyone in particular. The music and alcohol coursed through your veins. You felt lighter than you had in months, no worrying thoughts of homework or boys, or even Draco Malfoy.

The second you thought about how you weren’t thinking about Malfoy, you were immediately thinking about him. Part of you missed the hateful sparks between you, the natural narrow of your eyes at the sight of him.

Your body tensed involuntarily, and your drunk subconscious was already hoping to see his blond hair in the crowd. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking of what to say so Draco’s stern face would devolve into a furious expression.

You slowed next to Daphne, a wicked look overtaking your dazed face.

“What is it?” Daphne shouted into your ear, pulling you closer by your arm.

“I’ve got to go find someone,” you shouted back, “I’ll be back in a second.”

You were moving through the crowd before Daphne could reach out and stop you. A small voice in the back of your head sounded a bit like Pansy, her familiars warnings from the last party you were at with Draco. She had found you as you were just about to pour your drink down his front, and her soothing words floated into your drunken mind like good-natured clouds.

“He’s not worth it, honestly. All the stress he causes you is going to give you wrinkles, you don’t want wrinkles. Leave him be,” Pansy was right then and she would have been right again. Alas, Pansy was not here and her words did not echo loud enough in your head as you finally found the blond.

He was draped across a leather couch. His legs dangled off the arm as his head was perched on a pile of blankets. At the floor, Crabbe and Goyle hunched over, goblets clutched loosely in their seemingly unconscious hands. Draco’s eyes were closed, his long eyelashes delicately hovering over his pink flushed cheeks. His hair was pushed off his forehead, falling in handsome tufts onto the blankets under him. You stood there for a moment, interchanging which leg to rest your weight on.

“Are you going to say something,” Draco suddenly drawled, barely loud enough to be heard over the music, “or are you content to sit in silence for once?”

You scoffed, taking a breath that made your chest rise. You walked towards him, curling your warm fingers around his legs and flinging them off the arm of the couch. His body twisted and his eyes opened at the touch. You sat next to him, at least a foot between the both of you.

“What do you want?” he asked, leaning over to take Crabbe and Goyle’s full goblets from them. He handed you Goyle’s as he drank from Crabbe’s.

“Just wanted to see if you had done anything embarrassing that I could tell the whole school about tomorrow,” you lied, taking a considerable sip from the goblet.

Draco scoffs next to you, “Not yet, darling.”

You gave Draco a glance. He seemed distressed about something. The way he cradled the goblet in his hands and drank with an urgency was the way someone drinks when their upset.

“What’s got your panties all tied up, Draco?” you asked teasingly, leaning in his direction slightly.

Draco looked at your lidded eyes, the natural smirk on your pretty lips, the outfit you wore that you looked absolutely amazing in; he couldn’t feel any rage as he looked at you that night.

“You,” he said softly, staying stiffly straight but turning his head to face you.

You felt your cheeks warm, looking at him with a curious smirk.

“Really?” you indulged, wondering what else Draco may drunkenly confess. His words weren’t slurring like yours, but the faint pink flush on his cheeks and his unseemly kindness told you he was not sober.

He nodded silently, looking down at the goblet in his lap.

“Draco,” you said, turning to rest your back against the arm of the couch as your legs spread on the cushions. Your feet were inches from touching Draco’s thighs, and he tensed as he looked at the lack of space, “You’ve been acting odd with me recently.”

Draco, if possible, tensed even more at your statement. He was not nearly as drunk as you thought he was, or as you were.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he stuttered, biting his bottom lip. This was the first time you had ever seen Draco Malfoy seem flustered.

“Draco?” you slurred, not speaking again until he turned his face to yours.

You moved forward, bending your legs so you still didn’t touch him, but so your face was close to his.

“Do you fancy me?” you drawled, intrigued.

Draco’s previously tense and stiff stature seemed to relax, as if a secret was released that he had been bottling up. He brought his goblet to his lips slowly, and you did the same, the both of you finishing off what Crabbe and Goyle had been drinking.

“If I’m going to be honest-” Draco had turned his head to you and began speaking, but you weren’t listening. His lips looked so soft and his eyes looked so kind, you couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him.

He was surprised at first, unmoving against your lips. You smiled, still against him, and it seemed to make him realize what was happening. Within seconds, one of his hands was on your waist as the other was on your cheek. You sighed into the kiss, tasting a cinnamon flavored alcohol on his tongue as he slid it into your mouth. Your brought your hands to his neck, unable to stop yourself from playing with his hair. You ran your fingernails across his scalp and down to the nape of his neck, smiling again as he moaned into your lips.

You pulled away when it felt like your lungs needed air, which they did, and kept your eyes closed. Your shoulder fell into the side of the couch, your forehead resting on Draco’s shoulder.

You felt yourself drifting off into a drunken sleep, your body feeling heavy as it slumped into Draco’s.

“I really like you, Y/n. I really do,” Draco confessed from beside you, stroking your hair, “I think you’re the most clever person I’ve ever met.”

You felt your heart swoon at his confession, wondering if he said it because he thought you were already asleep, or if the alcohol was affecting him as much as you. You shifted, bringing your legs to fall into his lap, to which Draco wrapped his slender fingers around your thigh and pulled your closer to his body.

“I hope you’re not too drunk to remember this,” he mumbled, his own eyes fluttering shut as the both of you fell asleep.

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