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lavender-creame · 1 year

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i guess this is probably really niche but would you be able to write even just something short about Ryan with a reader who's like almost the same size as him? im afab and a lot of fics cater to smaller bodies and it always makes me feel like Ry wouldn't be into me like at all

if not totally feel free to delete this!! no pressure!! I hope you're having an awesome day!

Thank you so much for the ask, I hope I didn't take too long to reply! I hope your holidays bring you joy as we're rolling up to late December! Also, this isn't niche, or at least it shouldn't be. You are beautiful and deserve to see yourself as such!

| Minors DNI | 18+ only | 1.3k words

Summary: You and Ryan are about to go out on a group date, but you're not so sure about your outfit. Ryan shows you that you mean the world to him regardless.

Warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, oral (afab receiving)

a/n: Woah! 2 one-shots in a day? I know, right? I would have wrote this sooner, but unfortunately, I've been swamped with homework and studying. Anyways, I am confident that both Ryan and Matt love all body types, and I mean that genuinely. I try to write as non-specific as possible with body types because they are ‘x readers’ not ‘x oc’s’. This stands for my black and brown girls out there too- you are all beautiful and deserve inclusion for all skin, hair, and body types. Anyways here’s a small piece for my big, beautiful afabs out there <33 You can also find my stuff on a03 at lavender_creame

Once a month, Ryan and a few of his friends would all get together to do something fun, often taking the time to invite their significant others, as well. The late August air meant that it was the perfect season for some mini golfing and so when one of them found a popular course not too far away, everyone agreed that would be this month’s destination.

Stepping out of the shower, you dried off before slipping on the outfit you had picked earlier, but when you saw yourself in the mirror with it on, you began to get a bit embarrassed. It was a casual outfit, just shorts and a crop top, and something that you figured most of the other girls would be wearing too, yet as you tugged at the hems to cover up more skin, the way your plush curves outlined the fabric made you second guess your choice of clothing.

Sighing, you stepped out of your's and Ryan’s shared bathroom to see him relaxing on the bed, probably scrolling through Twitter.

Hearing the door open, Ryan looked up, “Hey Babe, looking cute. If you're still wanting to get there early, we should probably leave soon if you're about ready.”

You blushed at his compliment before responding, “Thanks, Ryan. Yeah, I’m just grabbing a hoodie real quick."

He furrowed his eyebrows before responding, “Are you sure? It’s pretty hot outside.”

You nodded your head quickly, hoping that would convince him to drop the subject, “Yeah, I'm sure," you responded as you searched through your closet for a zip-up.

Suddenly, you felt arms wrap around you from behind and you felt soft kisses dot your neck, "This isn't about your body, is it sweetheart?" Ryan urged you, lovingly.

The way he said that word sent shivers down your spine, yet you weren't ready to just admit it yet, you knew how he felt about your curves- he loved them, but you just couldn't see it. "Ryan, what if I just want something to wear in case I get cold?" You mumbled as you continued searching for the hoodie you needed.

Ryan chuckled slightly, still kissing your neck, "Then I don't mind holding it for you until you need it."

Ryan knew you too well, this wasn't the first time you had tried to change right before leaving, but he wouldn't have it this time. He could tell when you were trying to hide something.

"It's really no big deal Ry," you muttered while pulling the hoodie over your head "Really, I'm fine."

Ryan didn't respond immediately, instead opting to turn you around, pulling you into a deep kiss, "Talk to me, Baby, let's figure this out," he insisted, gently stroking your cheek.

Knowing you wouldn't win, you sighed, finally giving in, "I can't explain it, but the way my body looks in these clothes makes me feel like I'm not enough. Every time I look at myself in the mirror, I feel like I don't belong," you confessed softly.

Ryan gave you a sad smile as he pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours, "Y/N, I understand how you feel, I still feel that way sometimes too, but we'll get through it together, okay?" he murmured as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

You smiled at his words, wrapping your arms around his waist, "Thank you for being here for me, Ry, but I'd still feel more comfortable with the hoodie."

After letting go of her for a moment, Ryan turned back to his phone and typed out a quick message, "I told the boys we might be a little late. I can't stop you from covering yourself up, but I can show you just how much I love your body," Ryan started kissing down your neck, unzipping the hoodie as he did so, "Okay?"

Your face heated, "Ryan! You've been looking forward to this for weeks!"

He smiled as he removed the rest of your clothes, "You're much more important to me than a few rounds of mini-golf, babe With that, he kissed you again as he stripped you down completely, making sure his lips stayed pressed to yours even after he finished undressing

You melted in his arms, letting your eyes close in contentment. When you opened them once more, you felt Ryan's gaze on you, his hands caressing your sides slowly.

As Ryan stared down at you, his eyes glazed over with adoration. His lips forming a soft smile as he ran a hand through your hair, "You are truly beautiful, Y/N," Ryan admitted, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your nose.

You giggled as you blushed, reaching up to place a kiss on Ryan's lips. As the two of you pulled apart, Ryan moved to lay you down on the bed as he settled himself above. Reaching down, he trailed kisses along your collarbone until he reached your breasts, cupping them with one hand before moving his mouth down towards your abdomen and sucking softly. Your hips arched upwards instinctively, a soft moan escaping your lips. Ryan placed featherlight kisses along your stomach, teasingly running his tongue across the sensitive skin.

"All of this, I love all of this," he muttered. He continued to kiss and suck your stomach and hips, moving further down to trace the edges of your thighs.

His hands came to rest on either side of your hips, pushing you up slightly until your legs were wide open to him. Moving slowly, he began kissing his way up your inner thigh and between your folds. Before you could say anything, Ryan slipped his fingers inside you, causing you to let out a moan. With his other hand, he began gently massaging your clit with his fingertips, his mouth still kissing at your plush thighs.

When your back arched and your breath hitched, Ryan grinned against your skin as he continued to praise you, "Fuck, baby, you're so beautiful- especially like this. I wish you could see what I'm seeing right now, Sweetheart "

Unsure of how much longer you could last without coming, you moaned loudly, your fingers digging into the covers as you pushed your hips upwards, needing more friction.

Ryan's fingers sped up as he continued his ministrations, bringing you closer and closer to the e Ryan leaned forward to capture your lips, gently trailing down your chin and chest. Your hips bucked, and your breathing grew heavy as you came undone beneath Ryan, a string of moans leaving your mouth.

"Come for me, Y/N," Ryan mumbled in your ear, "Come for me if you're the most beautiful person on Earth."

Suddenly, you weren't sure you wanted to come, you weren't sure you believed him, but it was no use as your walls clenched tightly around Ryan's fingers. Ryan pulled his hand free of you, allowing you to catch your breath, before dipping his head in to place a chaste kiss on your stomach.

"Well, that settles it," Ryan chuckled, "We're all on the same page about that."

He stood up to grab a washcloth to wipe you down before helping you get dressed again, but he didn't leave the jacket on the floor.

"Y/N, I'm not going to make you wear anything you're uncomfortable in, I want you to have a good time above all else, so I'll bring the hoodie for you of course, but just know that I love you and your body regardless," Ryan said earnestly before placing one last kiss on your lips.

You smiled, thanking him before you checked your phone, "Ryan, oh my god, we're already 20 minutes late. We have to go, like right now."

Ryan chuckled and shrugged his shoulders as he took your hand in his, unfazed by the time, just happy that you were feeling a bit better.

#ryan magee #ryan magee x reader #ryan magee smut #supermega #supermega x reader #supermega smut #sweethearts asking sweet questions #lavender creame writing

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bbyheedeungie · 3 years

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Fluttering Machinery | Robot! Sunghoon AU

Genre: Fluff, mild angst

Pairings: Robot! Sunghoon x Reader

Warnings: Character death, little suggestive content

Synopsis: Sunghoon was a humanoid built by your father, with the sole purpose of taking care of you once he passes away. But it seems like taking care of you came with discovering emotions that wasn't necessary for cooking, cleaning, and keeping you safe. What is this warm fuzzy feeling that resonates deep inside Sunghoon's mechanism?

It's been months. 6 dreadful months since your father has passed away. The doctors have warned you that he didn't have much time left, but that didn't make the goodbyes hurt any less.

You were 4 years old when your mom left you and your father for another guy. A more successful guy. Your father was bright, with an insatiable hunger for discovery and invention. But his field of work didn't always bring food to the table. And so on most days you had to, well, compromise.

But you loved your father so much, and still do. Although you didn't grow up to be a scientist like him, you knew the basics on automation and robotics. You were 11 years old when you first saw it, the humanoid that he worked on for years came to life before your own very eyes.

He had no skin nor face that made him look human yet. Just a chunk of metal with a head, arms and legs that moved mechanically. Nevertheless, you will never forget the joy and pride in your fathers' face as he watched his creation. The humanoid was a work in progress and you knew one day he's going to change the world. Unbeknownst to you, he was going to change your world.

And now here you are, years into the present as you stood infront of the humanoid who had his eyes shut. Yep, he's a he now. He is Humanoid SH-1282. Your father made him for the purpose of serving the community, to help people. But when he discovered his illness, he started making alterations to his design. He made SH-1282 to serve as the perfect companion, but only to you.

He filled the humanoid's hard drive with everything that he'll need to help you and take care of you. He input cooking, cleaning, and even martial arts. You sighed, remembering your father's last words.

"I'm gonna leave him in your care now, err leave you in his care or whatever. Take good care of each other okay? I love you both so much."

You were such a crybaby, holding on to your father's arm as the nurses were ushering you to wait outside because the doctors are about to perform surgery.

"You'll be okay." Your father mouthed as he smiled knowingly in content.

You reach for the humanoid's neck to find the power button, finally deciding to activate him after holding it off for months.

You held your breath as his eyes open, immediately scanning his surroundings. His eyes land on you, a smile forms on his lips.

"Hi, I'm SH-1282. It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N." He said naturally, offering his hand. If you didn't know any better, you would think he was a normal boy.

You let out a shaky breath as you accept his hand. He frowns, it seems like he is studying your facial expression and posture.

"You seem like you are in distress. Are you alright?" He asks in concern.

"Yeah, I am." You reply weakly.

"Will a hug improve your mood?" He asks. He was programmed to know about the benefits of physical intimacy, but he was also programmed to know consent and so he will not do anything unless you want to.

You contemplated, biting your lip.

"No, thank you." He simply nods, stepping out of his charging port.

"Will you show me around the house?" He asks and you nod.

"Damn this feels so awkward." You think to yourself.

"So here's the living room." You say as SH-1282 takes a good look around the area, his eyes falling to the dirty coffee table with tons of papers stacked messily. The couch looked greasy, with breadcrumbs stuck to the sides of the couch cushions. He scrunches his nose, involuntarily adding a new emotion to his database: disgust.

And as you led him to the kitchen, this emotion intensifies as he sees the containers of Chinese takeouts and cup ramen littered around the counter. He walks to the fridge and finds it empty except for a carton of milk that you put into your cereal for breakfast.

This awakens another emotion for the humanoid, frustration. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he contemplates on what to do with the mess, aka you.

"This won't do. You have been living unhealthily which may reduce your chances of living a long life."

You scoff, "Excuse me?" He gives you a dead stare, an eyebrow raised.

"No, excuse me while I clean up all this. I'll leave you to your own devices, thank you for showing me around today." He says sassily as he goes to find where you hide your cleaning utensils. You stood there dumbfounded.

"Unbelievable." But you let him be anyway. He wasn't wrong, you've been a total mess this past few months but that was all because of the grief. You basically had no family now.

And so for the rest of the day, you lock yourself in your room and do homework. About 5pm, you hear a soft knock at your door.

"Hello, it's me. Can you spare me a minute? I have something to ask of you." You inwardly groan, not really wanting to face the humanoid.

"Can you accompany me to get groceries? I swear this will only happen one time. It is only because I am not yet accustomed to my location. But after I mentally note the directions, you won't have to come with me next time." He didn't really want to bother you, but he knew that going out by himself and getting lost will be much more bothersome for you.

"Sure thing, just let me change into— oh no, you have no other clothes. It's kinda chilly outside today." You mentally facepalm yourself. Why didn't I go shopping for men clothes first before activating him?

"That is fine, I am immune to any temperature." He says as-a-matter-of-fact. You roll your eyes.

"I know that but people will probably get suspicious to see a man walking around in a shirt and jeans when everybody else has coats on. We need you to fit in as much as possible."

You search for your father's old coat that you refused to throw away even months after he's passed.

"Sorry dad, but he kinda needs this right now." And so you dress the humanoid in your oversized university sweatshirt (which surprisingly fits him perfectly) and your father's old coat.

"How do I look? Will I fit in now?" He asks as he scans his appearance in the mirror.

"You look—" absolutely breathtaking. You had every urge to slap yourself. Your father really didn't play around when he made the humanoid's face. He could pass up as an idol. And the cute little mole on his nose was a good addition to his features that made him even more realistic.

"Great. People won't suspect a thing."

The two of you head out. Contrary to your expectations that he would marvel at everything he sees outside, he just casually looks around. You ride the bus together, and the humanoid processes everything that you do, noting how everything works.

What caught you by surprise though, is how he immediately stands up in instinct to let an old lady sit down in his place. He sure was programmed with manners and chivalry. You smiled at the thought.

You made your way inside the grocery store, only intended to grab a basket but the humanoid insisted on a push cart.

"We have so much to buy, I've taken a mental note of everything we'll need." You simply roll your eyes and let him push the cart around as you wandered behind him. You look around as he reads the nutritional facts of every single thing he sees.

"This is definitely going to take a while." You muttered.

"Y/N? Is that you?" A voice squealed. You hissed and attempted to turn away, pretending you didn't see her. The humanoid saw how you reacted and swiftly rushed to your side in a protective stance. The stranger eyes the humanoid, her eyes sparkling at the sight of such a gorgeous man.

"Why hello there. Y/N you didn't tell me you've been busy with your boyfriend, we haven't hung out in a while." Both of your eyes widened at the misunderstanding.

"Oh, no he's not— we aren't—" You tried to explain but she just laughed out loud.

"Look how flustered you are. You know what, it's okay. But we have a lot of catching up to do!" She said, squishing your cheeks in a playful manner.

"So what's your name, handsome stranger?" She asks, turning to the confused humanoid.

"I'm S—"

"Sunghoon! His name is Sunghoon." You blurted out. Sunghoon was the name of your childhood crush when you were like 7 but that'll have to do. Unfortunately, it seems that the humanoid got even more confused.

"I am Y/N's—"

"Neighbor. He lives next door to my apartment. I was just showing him around because he just recently moved into the city." You say quickly. She can't know that you're living with a guy. Even if said guy wasn't human.

"Awww how sweet of you to go shopping with your neighbor." She said, winking at you. She's definitely not convinced.

"I'm Yeonmi, Y/N's friend." She introduced, offering her hand to Sunghoon. He took her hand reluctantly.

"You mean my super obnoxious friend." You roll your eyes.

"Shut up, you love me." She teased. Admittedly, you've been avoiding her for months now. Ever since your father passed, it was as if you didn't want to deal with anyone anymore, with the fear of being left behind again. So you shut everyone out. You know it was a very selfish move and must've made everyone worry, but you have yet to figure out how to fix things back to how it is.

You said your goodbyes not without a long, tight hug from Yeonmi and Sunghoon noticed from his scanners how your vitals greatly improved from it. This made him feel another new emotion: relief. He was very thankful for your friend who made you feel better.

You continue venturing down the aisle of food, and you find the humanoid smiling to himself. He notices your attention on him and he shakes his head, as if shrugging his thoughts off.

"What?" You asked.

"You gave me a name. Although I'm unsure if it is necessary, thank you." He says genuinely as he smiles at you, your heart skipping a beat.

"You're welcome, Sunghoon." You smiled back.

He picked up lots of fruits and vegetables, with you whining the whole time. Your whines unlocked another emotion of his; annoyance.

"No wonder her father thought she is in need of taking care of, she acts like a child." He concludes, running his fingers through his hair as he lets you get an ice cream of your choice. Oddly, seeing a bright smile on your face as you show him what flavor you got seems to put him at ease.

The two of you got home at dawn, with quickly stacking up the groceries into the cabinets and fridge, with you slumping down on the now squeaky clean couch.

It had been quite a long day and you found yourself dozing off. You woke up from the light tap on your shoulder, eyes fixating on Sunghoon with your apron wrapped around his torso.

"I could get used to this." You thought, admiring how adorable the humanoid looked but quickly pushing the thoughts away.

"Sorry to wake you, it's time for dinner." He announces and you lazily nodded, not before yawning and stretching your arms.

"Uhh, what is this?" You asked, eyeing your plate.

"It's your dinner." He says nonchalantly, expecting you to start eating. Your face shows utter disgust at the plate of vegetables.

"Please don't make me eat that." You begged. Sunghoon rolls his eyes; a trait he adapted from spending just a day with you.

"Don't be dramatic, vegetables are good for you." He states, taking the plate from you and attempting to feed you.

"Come on, say ah." He says playfully. After realizing how much you acted like a child, he researched on how to take care of children and downloaded it into his database. You scrunch your nose, leaning away from the food and shooting him a glare.

"Sunghoon, I'm not a kid." You deadpanned.

"Oh, but you won't get your ice cream if you don't eat this." He says, pouting at you teasingly. He's really good at this. With a sigh, you open wide and allow him to feed you.

"Yep, definitely a kid." He thinks to himself as he smiles in satisfaction, another emotion unlocked.

That night, you decided to move his charging port (with his help) from the lab into the spare room of the apartment.

"You know, I'm completely okay with staying at the lab." He reasoned but you quickly hush him.

"Nope. That is no way to treat a person. You deserve your own room, okay? A room that you can fill with your own stuff and decorate with your own preferences. End of discussion." You sassed as you fix his charging port into place. Sunghoon blinked at you, unable to express how grateful he is of how kind you are to him.

"She wants to treat me like a real human being." He thinks, his mechanical heart overwhelmed with gratitude.

Days went on with a routine, with him cleaning all day and you attending online classes. There were occasional bumps in the road, with you getting annoyed with how much of a neat freak he is and him getting irritated with how lazy you are at taking care of yourself. You've also taught him how to watch tv, deciding not to let him use the internet yet because he might gain too much unnecessary information online.

And so on a saturday night, you sat together on the couch as you watched figure skating competitions. Sunghoon was at complete awe the whole time, studying how the skaters moved through the ice.

"I want to skate too." He states absentmindedly, attention still on the television. You smiled, thinking how it was the first time he actually said he wanted something.

"Then let's do it, let's go skating tomorrow." You say, his head immediately shot to you.

"What, really?" Sunghoon asks in disbelief, his eyes widening.

"Yes, really. Although I'm warning you, I don't know how to skate." You laughed, with him chuckling as well.

"Then we'll learn together." He promises.

What a total lie that is. He didn't need to learn, as you watched him move swiftly against the ice, the wind in his hair as he circled around, his focused eyes twinkling in the fairy lights. He looked ethereal. You could have sworn there were tears there as you cheered him on like a proud momma. Ah, they grew up so fast.

People at the park also stopped to watch Sunghoon, whispering about how talented the young man is. His eyes caught yours, and you weren't sure if you were seeing things but you thought you saw him send you a wink and smile.

"The TV been teaching him things." You muttered, blushing but not from the cold. Sunghoon skates towards you, pulling you with him. You're eyes widened in fear.

"N-no Sunghoon I can't—" but he was already leading you through the ice, eyes never leaving yours.

"You can." He whispers, taking you by the waist as he spun you around. You giddily laughed as you threw your arms out, savouring the chilly air. You didn't even notice the people watching and cooing at you as some joined in as well.

That night, Sunghoon felt something he never felt before, and you in a long time. You felt happy.

"Say aaaah~" Sunghoon said as he fed you chicken soup. You caught a cold from skating yesterday and now you're wrapped in a super cozy blanket with Sunghoon worrying about you.

"You know I can feed myself right?" You said, swallowing the food.

"I know, but I just feel responsible because I was the one who wanted to skate. You got sick because of me, and that kinda defeats my purpose because I'm supposed to be keeping you healthy." He rambled. You roll your eyes at him.

"Colds are normal, okay? Besides, I haven't had that much fun in a while. Thank you for that, Sunghoon." You say, reaching up to tussle his hair playfully. He froze, cogs in his mind unable to process as something inside him stirred, but in a pleasant way.

"So you dance while rubbing your body on a stranger?" Sunghoon questions, but he's not sure if he wants to know the answer. Tonight, you wore a simple black dress that teasingly showed a little bit of cleavage and a decent length of fabric that hugged tightly around your upper thighs but had a daringly high slit. Sunghoon approves and disapproves at the same time.

"Yeah, it's kinda like that. But don't worry, I won't be doing that. I'll just stay by the bar the whole time." You reassured as you struggled to put on your strappy heels. Sunghoon kneels down infront of you and helps you clasp the straps around your ankles, handling it very delicately. Your heart thumps as he looks up at you.

"Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?" He asks for the fifth time as he follows you around the house like a puppy. You sigh, actually considering it. Although it was supposed to be a girl's night according to Yeonmi, you thought maybe having Sunghoon tag along wouldn't do harm.

But it did. It did harm to you, alright. And you wanted to harm those girls who kept on grinding their asses onto Sunghoon as slow, sexy music played. You were fuming, regretting dressing Sunghoon in such fashion that screamed big D energy. Why am I being so possessive? But then again, Sunghoon does look uncomfortable. I should go save him. Yeah, I'll do that.

"Hold my drink." You tell Yeonmi as you made your way to Sunghoon.

"You go girl! Get your man!" Yeonmi cheered drunkly.

Your train of thoughts were blurred by the alcohol as you struggled to walk straight. You had only one clear thought in mind: Sunghoon. I need to get to Sunghoon.

Sunghoon stood uncomfortably, eyeing the girls who rubbed their bossoms and derriere all over him. Is this supposed to be fun? He thinks innocently. He sees you walking towards him, swaying your hips side by side as you strode towards him like a predator.

Girls hovering around him going unnoticed as you were the only one he could see.

Stunning, beautiful. He thought.

"Hey handsome, care to dance?" You asked, pulling him to you before he could even answer. The girls spat at you, telling you to 'get in line' but you just shot them a smug look.

"Sorry ladies." Sunghoon apologized, but his smile told otherwise as he let you pull him away from them.

"You don't know how badly I wanted to get away from—" He froze in his spot as you wrap your arms around his neck, inching closer than ever before. You felt bold, but maybe that was just the alcohol in your system. And as you started moving your body against Sunghoon, you knew it wasn't just you who felt the heat. His large palms go down south, resting on your swaying hips as both of you moved to the sultry rhythm.

His mechanism was going nuts, threatening to malfunction as his sensors detected your very close proximity to him. Whatever you were playing, it was dangerous. But Sunghoon couldn't help but to want more, to desire more.

"Y/N." He whispers, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. And damn did he find you so sexy right there, under the strobe lights. No girl in the club could ever compare.

"Home?" You suggested.

"Home." He agrees.

As you got in the cab, you immediately find yourself half straddling Sunghoon's lap as you attempt to kiss him. Luckily, Sunghoon can think clearer now and concludes that a drunk Y/N is a very horny Y/N. And though the thought that it was only the alcohol that made you want him made him feel sad, he knew it was wrong to demand such things from you.

And so with your futile attempts to get into his pants, he gently lays your head on his shoulder and hugs you to keep you still. But even that couldn't stop you from squirming to get away from his hold, trying to get some action. He chuckles as he held your hand tightly in his to prevent it from landing into his crotch.

"Now now, you have to stay put. I won't be taking advantage of your state." He scolds gently. And by the time the cab had stopped in front of the building of your apartment, you were fast asleep in Sunghoon's arms.

Times like these were when Sunghoon is glad he was made of aluminum. He scooped you up in his arms like a pillow as he walked up to your apartment. You snuggled up into his chest, looking so innocent as you soaked up his warmth. Sunghoon cooed about how adorable you are, talking to you in your sleep.

He placed you delicately on your bed, contemplating whether to change your clothes or not. He decided not to, noting how your privacy is important to you. You're too drunk and asleep to give him permission right now anyway. He took off your heels and wiped your makeup off very gently, and tucked you in properly.

Long minutes pass as he studies your face, stroking your hair softly as the corners of his mouth lift up unconsciously. He really loves taking care of you. He loves you.

This realization hits him like a truck of overwhelming emotions, but it all makes sense to him now.

"I love you, Y/N." He whispers, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before retiring to his own room.

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wri0thesley · 3 years

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A Well Rounded Education (4): Equality Statement (Fem!Reader x Naoya Zenin, 7.5k)

series synopsis: you are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. gojo, unfortunately, does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: you make the mistake of crossing naoya zenin at a sports festival and are forced to apologise. but as you well know by now, nothing ever seems to go to plan where any of your student’s fathers are concerned.

NSFW. MINORS DNI. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. misogyny, weird power dynamics, hate-sex, piv sex, blowjobs. naoya.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation) ♡ (jujutsu kaisen masterlist)

The Saturday morning that your first ever undokai is scheduled for dawns bright and early, and you can’t help the little thrill that goes through you at the golden fingers of dawn lighting up your room. There’d been talk of the weekend bringing rain, and things needing to be rescheduled – but it’s perfect weather, as you put on a comfortable tank top and shorts instead of your neat pencil skirt and suit jacket combination.

This will be your first event of the kind, and you’re excited about it. The kids in the class have been practising all of their cheers and routines and the like constantly, whilst the ones involved in the competitive sports have been cheering one another on and snatching time when they can to race against one another in preparation. It’s been nice to see all of the camaraderie between them – even some of the quieter ones have seemed to come a little bit out of their shell, with so much team spirit in the air.

Well. Most of them have. You’ve noticed Junpei still hanging back, face sad, uncomfortable when other boys crowd him and tug him off to who knows where – probably to get him involved in their own practises or rehearsals.

It’s been long and hard preparing for it, but even Gojo has been focused on something for once.

“There’s just something about events like this!” Gojo chirped to you, once, as he’d held up a megaphone he did not really need and called his class back into formation in front of him. “You know! The joy of youth! I want them to have the best time possible! They deserve it.”

Seeing Gojo’s mischievous eyes sparkle with determination instead of humour had made you smile at him, and you’d felt a strange pull in your chest when he’d smiled back, needing to pull your gaze away to ask Yuuji to stop poking Megumi in the back to get him to look at a weird caterpillar he’d found on the ground.

As a junior high undokai, things are a little more competitive than they might be if this were an elementary school or even a middle school event, but there’s still a big emphasis on the teamwork and the cheering on portion of the day. You’ve watched and applauded what feels like a hundred practises for the cheering section, confiscating whistles when they’re sneakily blown whilst you’re trying to teach a mathematics lesson.

Still, you’re not surprised to see that Gojo’s class have been corralled into his classroom whilst your vivacious teacher and mentor gives them a rallying encouragement that seems to contain a lot of bigging up the fact that they are, in fact, his class.

“I thought the pep talk was for them,” you say, as heads turn to you when you walk into the room. It’s strange to see all of the faces dressed in their gym uniforms instead of their school uniforms – and it’s even stranger to be wearing an approximation of it yourself.

“You look nice!” Yuji pipes up, and you smile at him.

“It is for them,” Gojo brings a hand to his sunglasses to push them down a little, giving you a charming smile and the full force of the galaxies swirling in his eyes. “I’m just reminding them that as Satoru Gojo’s class, of course they’re going to do well! We’re going to be the strongest, and win!” He looks at all of them – bright shining faces turned to him, all lit up with the excitement of competition. There’s something in him that you rarely see right now – something encouraging and bright and compassionate. He genuinely seems to want them to do well. “I believe in all of you!”

The warmth spreading through your chest at Gojo’s words is a new experience. You’re far more used to exasperation and frustration where he’s concerned.

But now, you can’t help the infectious smiles of the children and the determination in their face to do well enough for everyone to be proud of. Maybe Gojo isn’t so bad after all, you think, as he bids the children in the class farewell and tells them to go and join everyone else outside in preparation for the day’s events.

“What d’you think?” He asks you, as Junpei leaves the room, still dragging his feet a little. You can’t blame him. He’s involved in the cheering section, as so many of the less athletic kids are, but the undokai is not optional and you think that Junpei is the kind of boy who hates being looked at. “Are we gonna win?”

“I don’t think that’s quite the point of the exercise,” you say, eventually. “We’re supposed to be fostering team spirit and co-operation--”

“Yeah,” Gojo wrinkles his nose and grins. “But we’re still gonna win, right?”

You sigh.

“With Yuji and Maki? Probably. But that’s not the point!”

Gojo stands up and stretches his arms out above him. He’s in a shirt that clings tight to a surprisingly muscled abdomen, and dark grey sweatpants. He’s never been the ‘formal wear’ kind of teacher, but it’s still jarring to see him dressed so casually – and even more jarring to realise that he’s handsome, despite the fact you’ve spent most of the last few months rolling your eyes and sighing and cursing the world that you’ve ended up having to endure Satoru Gojo so much.

“I know, I know – but it’s nice to think about, right?” His grin is infectious. “Did you have time to have breakfast this morning? I know it’s an earlier start than usual, I’ve got a spare blueberry muffin in my bag – hope it didn’t get crushed too badly by my stretches--”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, already dreading the idea of him pressing a crumbled muffin into your hand. “I had a healthy, nutritious breakfast.”

“So did I!” He says, hotly. “The blueberry muffin had fruit in it, croissants are glazed with egg so that’s protein, and I had a slice of honey on toast too just because I felt like I’d have to keep my energy up today--”

You are constantly impressed by how he manages to consume all of this sugar without going into overdrive – then again, maybe that does explain a lot about him.

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing today,” you admit to him. “I mean, I know I’m here to cheer on the kids and stuff, but I don’t know what my role’s supposed to be--”

“Oh!” He comes around and begins to walk out of the classroom, beckoning you to follow him. “Didn’t I tell you? They told me ages ago--” He did not tell you. You don’t know why you find this a surprise. “You’re gonna be in charge of the refreshments table for the first half of the morning – Yuta, you know, the other teacher’s aid, he’ll relieve you for the second half so you can cheer us on and help me a bit. Not that I’ll need it! It’s not a hard job, just be polite to anyone who needs to use it, most of ‘em bring their own lunches and snacks but we find that it’s always good to have a table with some extras – especially when it’s so hot outside!”

“You didn’t,” you say, but you follow him anyway. You have learnt by now that the most you’ll get from Gojo is a shrug and an airy ‘sorry’. And you suppose, in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t so bad. It’s not like you needed to have time to stop and prepare yourself to give people a polite smile and ask them if they’d like you to pour them a glass of water.

The two of you spill out into the grounds of the school, which is already full of excited students and proud parents. You recognise a few of them – your face heats up as you see Nanami forcibly pressing a bottle of sunscreen into Yuji’s hands, and as the two of you walk past Geto who is tying back Mimiko and Nanako’s hair, ensuring the team hats that the students are all wearing sit neatly on their heads.

There’s a man stood with Maki and Mai who you assume is their father; a blond with a sneering face and a presence that makes you feel like you shouldn’t even be looking at him. Maki has her arms crossed, her chin jutting forward – the two of them are clearly involved in some kind of argument. Even as you watch, some other men are walking towards him with their heads bowed, like he’s something special.

You vaguely recall that you’ve heard some tell about the Zenins being a very rich, very old, very respected family. Judging from the way he carries himself and the way people keep looking at him, you think that must be it.

“Is that Maki and Mai’s dad?” You ask, curiously, as you’re pushed past him towards a collection of tables beneath a bright yellow awning. Gojo makes a noise that sounds like a sigh.

“Yep,” he says, sounding short. There’s some kind of history there, you think. “That’s Naoya Zenin. Better for you to avoid him, if you can – he’s not the kind of guy you want to cross, y’know?”

“But Maki’s--”

“Absolutely nothing like him,” Gojo deposits you in front of a table heaped with water jugs, ice cubes and plastic cups. “Really.”

You wrinkle your nose as you look around. At least everyone else seems happy – excited, buzzing with energy and the promise of an exciting day ahead. You can’t help but worry about Maki’s expression, though. She had looked like her and her father were having an argument that had been going on for months--

Gojo waves at you as he jogs across the field, moving surprisingly quickly for a man who ate nothing but sugar for his breakfast. You watch him go, unable to stop a smile forming on your face as he pauses by Maki and Mai. He slaps a hand onto Maki’s shoulder and says something with a bright grin that she seems to respond to with a smile, turning to follow him. Her father’s eyes narrow, as he spits something that even you can work out is venomous at the retreating backs of one of his daughters. He sighs as he says something else to Mai, a smile almost tugging at the corners of his mouth as his attention shifts back to her.

It’s clear who the golden child is there, then.

You try and shake your thoughts away from Naoya Zenin and his two girls and concentrate on the place that you’ve been given, reminding yourself that even if it doesn’t seem like a big role, you all have to work hard to make sure that today is a success. Your students have been practising and getting excited for this event for weeks, and you want all of the parents to be as proud of their students as you are.

You have a good view from the refreshments table of everything that’s going on. You watch a few of the races, a few cheering displays from the other classes to the beat of the drums – and when kids run up to you, sweaty and panting, you hand them a plastic cup full of cool water and they thank you as if you harvested it from a spring yourself instead of merely pouring it out.

Some parents ask you politely who you are, and you tell them with a smile and a bright look, hoping that you being friendly and polite will get back to other people. A few of them exchange looks when they hear that you’re attached to Gojo’s class; the man has a reputation that follows him everywhere. You give out oranges and other pieces of fruit to some of the students who need an extra sugar boost, or the ones who have a bandage wrapped around their knee or grazes from falls that have recently been cleaned. Shoko is busy today, and you often see her direct these injured children to you as a rest stop, and so their parents can find them easily.

You pause for a moment as the names are called for a relay race, and you hear Maki and Mai being summoned. This is the first race that they’re taking part in – if their team wins this one, they’ll qualify for the final this afternoon. You can see Gojo lifting his arms and hollering and hear his loud, excited voice even with all of the other people crowding into the school grounds to watch, and despite yourself you feel a smile spread over your face.

You’re still smiling when you hear a scoff.

You turn around to see what the fuss is – only to see Naoya Zenin, holding a plastic cup of water as if it’s offended him mortally. Seeing you looking at him, his lip curls.

“Is this tap water?” He asks you. He has a curious accent; slow, drawling, and clearly much superior to your own. It’s not an accent that Maki and Mai have inherited – and as he raises one eyebrow, the sun catching the rings in his ears, you find yourself glad of it. “Well?”

“I think so,” you say. You are on edge. He peers into it, and sighs.

“Don’t you have anything better? Cell-gen or Tennensui or even I LOHAS, at least?” He speaks to you slowly, like you’re a child, or as if he’s not sure whether a peasant like you would even know the names of any bottled water brands. You can’t stand being talked down to, and you curl your hand into a fist as you say, trying to keep yourself polite;

“I’m sorry, Sir. There’s just this.”

“You’d think with the money pumped in-- fine.” He sighs, taking a sip of the water, his face scrunching in displeasure at – you don’t know. The disgusting taste of tap water, you suppose. You try not to look at the bob of his throat as he swallows. Everything about this man seems to be unpleasant except the way he looks.

You take your own cup of water, just to quell some of the dryness that has made itself known in your throat at interacting with him.

The cheering gets a little quieter, and you turn to see what’s happened. As it turns out, all that’s actually happened is Gojo has stopped putting forth his own shouts to the fray, his eyes focussed on you and Naoya, a look that you think is almost sympathy spread across his face. You see that the race is about to begin, and you don’t look at Naoya as you say;

“You’re Maki and Mai’s father, aren’t you? Their first race is about to start. Maki’s been training really hard, I think she’ll pip it for us—”

A dark presence at your shoulder, and a sneering, uppity drawl.

“I gather you’re the teaching aid I’ve been hearing so much about from everyone.” he says. It does not sound like a compliment. “Maki has really found you . . . encouraging.” He says it like it’s a dirty word.

You force yourself to remain cheerful, and not ask him what the fuck his problem is.

“Maki’s really talented,” you say. “Mai’s fast, too – they’re both really good representatives for the class--”

Naoya snorts.

“They should be on the sidelines,” he says, coolly. “Supporting the men. Not running. Not getting all sweaty and hot and messing up their hair and their pretty faces.” He shakes his head. “It’s unwomanly, and if Maki listened to a word I’d said, she wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Mai is doing it too,” you point out, hating yourself for getting involved in this. But you just can’t let him stand there and be such an asshole, spewing his narrow-minded ideas when there are impressionable girls around.

“Mai’s already agreed that if they win this race, she’ll ask one of the boys to switch in for her. I’ve sorted it with the principal. It’s not ladylike for her to do any more than she has to. She’s not going to get a husband in good standing based on her athletic prowess--”

Oh, this is too far. You’re seething, though you’re trying to keep your respectable face on. You’re at work, you’re at work, you’re at work--

“Perhaps there are some other things they consider more important than finding a husband, at the age of twelve?”

Naoya’s laugh is nasty, mocking – and you hate that there’s something in it that sends a curl of heat right through you, blooming between your thighs.

“The younger a girl learns her place,” he says, his voice very slow. “The better it is and easier it is for a man to be assured she’ll do her duties. I don’t see a ring on your finger, Miss – I’d hate for them to end up working some dead-end little job just because they don’t have anyone to cook and clean for--”

Nope.

You can’t take it any longer.

You turn and you throw the cup of ‘shitty tap water’ in your hand right over Naoya Zenin’s stupid, smug, asshole face.

Gojo, for what you think must be one of the first time in his life, looks uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know you were going to throw water on him,” he tries to say, weakly. “Look, we all hate him, but . . . ugh. This is so frustrating! I hate all of this bureaucracy bullshit--”

It turns out that Naoya Zenin’s family – and Naoya Zenin himself – donate rather a lot of money to the school for such functions as the one you’re all currently attending. It turns out that nobody wants to piss off the bank-roll that’s keeping their gym maintained, their events fancy and expensive, the library well-stocked – and you get that! You really do! You know that school budgets are overstretched already, and that donors like the Zenin family are something to be gently courted and kept around for as long as humanly possible.

You just wish that the big donor for this school was anybody else.

“I didn’t know all of this,” you say, reasonably. “I know I shouldn’t have thrown a drink over him, but Mr. Gojo--”

“How many times? You can call me Satoru.”

“If you’d heard the way he was talking--”

“Oh, believe me,” Gojo’s full lips press into a thin line. “I know exactly what Naoya Zenin’s modus operandi is. Let me guess: he was all on at you about how Maki’s not a proper young lady, how the boys should be doing the hard work, how he’s trying to make sure his daughters get a proper start and a rich husband – ugh.” Gojo tugs at his shirt, clearly frustrated. “I’ve had it way too much.”

“Yeah,” you say. You find yourself sighing too.

“The Vice Principal’s in his back pocket,” Gojo says, taking a seat on top of the desk that you’re currently sat behind, cooling off some of your anger – Principal Masamichi had sent you inside to calm you down, and Naoya himself had been escorted into the building by Vice Principal Gakuganji to dry off, all the while saying placating things to calm down the school’s meal ticket. “They want you to apologise to him.”

“I suppose I should,” you say miserably. “But it’s gonna feel like swallowing gravel.”

“I certainly don’t blame you,” Gojo says, with a smile, trying to cheer you up. “Hell, I know some of the other staff members have been dying to do it--”

“Ugh,” you bury your face in your hands. “This is a horrible impression in front of the whole school.”

He pats you gently on the shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, “when this is all over, I’ll take you out for ice cream. I know the best places in the city, and they all know me too!”

You summon a smile for him. He’s not so bad, really – sure, he’s chaotic and thinks too highly of himself for his own good, but . . . at least he’s nothing like Naoya. You stand up and pull down your shorts, wriggling your tank top down to cover you as much as you possibly can. You feel a bit exposed, not in heels and stockings and a blouse.

“I should get this over with, then.”

Gojo has too much to do back on the field to escort you to Naoya himself, so he tells you that Naoya’s in the Vice Principal’s office and gives you another friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he tells you. “Remember: ice cream at the end of this!”

“Ice cream at the end of this,” you repeat, as you watch him jog out of the corridor. You’re almost tempted to tell him off for running in the halls – Gojo moves so fast that sometimes you lose track of him entirely – but you push back the urge. Gojo is being decent today. You’re thankful to him for sitting with you and helping you calm – and also, evidently, for being one of the things that keeps Maki’s fighting spirit inflamed.

You stand there for a moment, in front of the door to the office, balling up your courage tight and hot in your stomach. You do not want to have to apologise to Naoya, but you know it’s for the best. The sooner you can put this sorry incident behind you and try and avoid Naoya at every single function from herein, the better – so you tap hard on the door and wait until you hear his slow, drawling voice.

“You can come in.”

At first, you’re surprised to see that he’s alone in there – sitting in front of the desk in a comfortable chair, clearly at ease with everything. His arms are sprawled over the back of it, his legs wide apart. You chastise yourself for thinking it immediately – of course the vice principal is busy right now, of course he trusts someone as well-known to the school as Naoya to be alone in his office.

It’s hard not to think about every other time you’ve found yourself alone with the parents of your students, though. A heat crawls onto your face at the very thought of it. You find Naoya repellent, disgusting – but then again, he’s also (and you’re not being glib about it) handsome. You’d be lying if you’d said you sometimes hadn’t ignored a man’s personality for a night in favour of a face and a body that had drawn you in.

Not now.

You close the door behind you, clasping your hands together so you don’t clench your fists, and bow your head so that Naoya can’t tell that you’re grinding your teeth.

“I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me, Sir,” you say, though it really does feel like you are gnashing ice to get the words out. “I should have been more polite. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Mmm,” Naoya says, and you peek up at him through your lashes to see that he’s clearly enjoying having you at his mercy, his lips tilted into a smirk. His hair is still a little wet at the ends, but all that you throwing the water over him seems to have actually done is made his shirt cling tight to a surprisingly chiselled chest and stomach. Asshole. Fuck him. “Yes. I should hope not.”

You straighten yourself up, still a little stiff.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you say. “I . . . I am still learning my place in the establishment.”

He laughs, low and soft.

“Your place?” He asks, the words dangerously sweet on his tongue. “Yes. I can see you still need some help on that one.”

His eyes crawl over you slowly, dragging up and down the length of you, lingering over where your shorts cling to your hips and the tank top hugs your chest. You resist the urge to shift – you don’t want to let him know that he’s making you uncomfortable. You know, though, that he can sense that you have gone hot and prickly all over. He has that smug air; the one men who know what they do to people always seem to have cultivated. The knowledge that they are good-looking.

You suppose for Naoya, it’s the heady combination of knowing he is good-looking and powerful and rich, and you breathe through the force of all of his attention concentrated on you.

“Seeing as you’re still . . . new to all of this,” he says, bringing an arm forward to tap his long fingers on the desk. “And you did apologise prettily, I suppose I can forgive this transgression – just this once, darling.”

The pet name crawls up your spine like ice. He’s still staring at you, enjoying the view like you’re a piece of meat on a market stall he’s considering purchasing.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” you say, hating yourself a little bit but hating him all the more.

“You know,” he says. “You’re not exactly bad-looking.” He stands, rising to his full height, stretching out, frustratingly comfortable in this environment when you feel like a deer who’s about to turn tail and flee at any moment. “You’d be much better off at home raising children than here.” He wrinkles his nose. “Working for a living.” The way that he says the words makes it clear that he considers this a task far beneath the likes of him.

He’s moving towards you now, and your breath seems to get stuck in your throat as he’s suddenly in front of you, stalking elegantly. You want to snap back something about how you’d rather work for a living than have to rely on the whims of a man, much less a man like him – but as he grabs your chin to tilt it up to the light, you find that the words seem to die in your throat.

“Hmm,” he says. “Not bad at all.” He makes an approving noise that sends a flutter right through you, making you dully aware of a pounding ache between your thighs. He leans a little further in, until he’s so close that you can see the pale colours dancing in his eyes, the way the light hits his high cheekbones. “You’re trembling with rage, you know. It’s adorable.”

“You’re very easy to be angry at,” you half-breathe, half-hiss, and Naoya’s smirk is going to be burnt into your memory forever and ever.

“If you’re so angry,” he murmurs, “I can certainly think of a way I wouldn’t mind helping you work out your aggression.”

You shouldn’t do it. But your heart is beating a frantic rhythm against your ribcage and your breath is short, and part of you wants to wrestle him to the ground and dominate him so that he can have a taste of his own medicine. You grab a handful of his hair and drag him down into a bruising kiss.

Oh, and he kisses back. His mouth is soft against yours, but the kiss itself is rough – both of your tongues fighting for dominance, both of you trying to nip at one another’s bottom lip and seize the victory. You’re practically shoved backwards so that your ass catches the edge of the Vice Principal’s desk, even as you tug hard on Naoya’s hair to tell him that you’re not going to be overpowered by him so easily. You feel the feral curve of his grin as he pulls back just enough to whisper;

“Oh? You really think you’re going to get the better of me? You’re cute--” and then you push his shoulders hard, and he stumbles and falls back onto the chair he started this whole escapade sat in. You reach down to tug off your shirt, dropping it onto the floor beside you – Naoya looks for a moment like he’s going to stand back up and resume trying to wrest back the situation into his favour, but as he sees the slight bounce of your breasts in your bra he seems to decide it would be more interesting and beneficial for him to stay exactly where he is and watch you disrobe.

So you do, wriggling your shorts down past your hips – he lets out a low groan at that, as you stand before him in nothing but your underwear with your fists clenched on your hips.

You feel surprisingly powerful like this. It definitely makes a difference from all of the other ways you’ve felt when you’ve been alone with somebody’s father--

“Take off your shirt,” you tell him, and you’re almost surprised at the imperious tone in your own voice. “It’s your turn--”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but he does as you ask. Long fingers curling around the hem of his shirt, taking his sweet time pulling it off his body – and yes, it’s a nice one. Nice, too, are his thighs as he undoes his trousers that probably cost more than you make in a year and pushes them down, sitting before you in nothing but his equally as expensive-looking underwear – an impressive looking bulge outline pressed against the fabric. Even as he looks at you, he takes hold of himself through it and squeezes it, his grin crooked.

Your body does a throb of need.

“Oh,” you say, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realise you were so needy already--”

“Like you’re not dripping,” he says sharply, his eyes zeroing in on the space between your thighs. “Don’t flatter yourself. I can see the damp patch from here.”

“Who’s to say that’s for you?” You walk towards him. You can’t help but feel powerful and in control at how his eyes follow you with rapt attention, how his tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip as he drinks in your form in front of him.

“Please,” he says. “As if there’s anyone here more deserving.”

He reaches forward and his hands settle on your hips, dragging you closer to him – hot fingertips brushing your waist, the bare skin beneath your bra before he’s unclipping that too and your breasts are bare. He breathes in deeply.

“Pity,” he says, though his voice is thick with his own arousal. “You’re such a cute little thing, if only you didn’t open your mouth--”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me opening my mouth to do something else,” you breathe, and you reach down to ghost your fingers over his cock through the tent in his underwear. He hisses through his teeth, his eyes half-lidded.

“Don’t just say it, princess,” he says. “If you’re going to run your mouth, the least you could do is make it do something useful--”

“I’d rather die than get on my knees for you.” Your mouth is very close to his neck – to punctuate the statement, you give his earlobe a tug with your teeth, and he practically groans. You’re almost straddling him on the chair, and you do not miss, either, the twitch that his cock seems to give at the tug.

It seems like for somebody who really wants to be in control, and wants women to know their place so badly, Naoya actually is rather enjoying somebody giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He grabs your underwear and pulls it down, clicking his tongue as it bunches about your knees.

“Just give into what your body wants,” he says, all saccharine sweetness in that slow, deep voice. “You’ve made a mess.”

You know you have. You can feel slick when your thighs press too close together, hot and wet between your legs. You really are practically dripping. But it’s not just from Naoya, you don’t think – it’s from the sudden power you’re feeling, the rush of being an equal participant in everything, in feeling like you have the upper hand. And not a small part, you think, is because of the adrenaline that’s coursing through your veins at the thought of putting Naoya Zenin in his place. You tip your head to the side innocently.

“What about you?” You ask, with a mean shade to the pitch of your voice. “You’re so hard it’s a wonder you’re not in pain--”

He grabs a hank of your hair with one hand whilst spreading your legs further with the other, so strong that the breath’s knocked out of you. The tip of his finger skims the outer lips of your sex, gathering your slick arousal on the pad as he growls;

“I’m still a man, darling. I see a pretty cunt to fuck and a pair of nice tits and I want to bury myself into it until the bitch remembers her place--”

“Good luck,” you breathe. “I think you’ll be the one remembering his place, here.”

He laughs breathlessly.

“Oh,” he purrs. “You’re going to be singing a different song when you’re begging me to fuck you harder.”

You give him a smile with your teeth bared; the challenge is obvious. It’s a smile that says ‘we’ll see’, even as you both tug at his underwear to pull it down and reveal what he’s been hiding beneath it.

You don’t want to admit that he’s got a pretty cock, but he has. He’s not the biggest you’ve seen, but it’s still impressive; a slight curve giving it an elegant angle that you realise with a clench will hit you exactly in the right spot when you take it inside of you.

He’s slick with his own pre-come, bubbling from the reddened slit – and as you shift forward and trap it between your thighs, he groans aloud again.

“That’s right,” he grunts, as the tip catches on your entrance and you begin to sink down upon it. “This is what you were made for, princess--”

“What?” You pant. “That would be disappointing. You barely fill me up--”

He grabs you and pulls you into another kiss as you finish off sheathing his cock inside of you – perhaps to save his pride, perhaps to muffle the noise that comes out of him, transferred into your mouth instead of his own. Whichever it is, you hate that you were right about the angle of his cock – you can feel it pressing snugly against the spongy G-spot even now, threatening you with a better time than you’d like to have.

You break the kiss to pull yourself off of him and sink back down, forcibly taking the lead and setting your own pace. You know it’s fast, you know it’s greedy – but fuck, if you aren’t boiling over with need.

You splay your hands across his shoulders, nails digging into his skin with little care to how you might mark him. You need him for leverage, as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. Naoya tips his head back and groans, enjoying the feeling, before he remembers that you two are engaged in a battle of wits and attempts to get the better of you once more.

“I-is that,” he groans, coming to cling onto your waist and force you down on him with even more strength, helping you along in the too-fast rhythm of your thrusts and bounces. “The best you’ve got?”

“Come on,” you say breathlessly, as his cock continues to stroke that spot. You can hear the sounds of him sliding in and out of you, shamefully loud – too, you can hear the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, echoing and mixing with the breathless pants and the attempts to trade barbed insults. “Y-you’re making me do all the work?”

“Fucking pity you’ve got such a nice cunt,” Naoya snarls, his hips flexing, somehow managing to hit you deeper even as you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet and straddling him on the chair. His words are starting to sound very far away. “You should be in my fucking bed, keeping it warm, better off than wasting away here--”

Both of you are running your mouths, overwhelmed by how close one another’s bodies are and the intense heat radiating from you. There’s a frisson of electricity in the air, showering sparks, as the two of you continue to snatch words in between moans and groans and pants and whimpers--

“You’re pathetic--”

“You’re so fucking tight, I shouldn’t be surprised when you’re such a bitch--”

“F-fuck, harder, c-can’t you even keep the momentum going? You’re weak--”

“Baby girl, you’re fucking shaking – you gonna come first? Women are so predictable--”

You can feel your release hovering on the edge of your vision, blurring it as your eyes squeeze shut and you feel tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. There’s a heat inside of you that’s close to overspilling – and as you come down on him particularly hard, the head of his cock rolls over your g-spot just right, and you feel a dam inside of you break as your nails dig hard enough into his shoulders to draw blood. You bury your face into his neck so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you cry out his name, teeth worrying into his neck to leave a love-bite reminder of exactly what transpired between you two in the Vice Principal’s office.

You feel yourself twitch and tighten around him as your orgasm rocks your body, heat running through you like veins of marble. You can’t breathe – all you can do is bite, your hips chasing the final aftershocks.

Naoya is still hard inside of you as you lift yourself off him, letting his cock slip out of you as easily as butter. His own hands clench around your hips.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asks, his voice rough and hungry. Despite that, though, you can hear the thread of some other emotion sewn in to them – and with a shiver of delight, you realise it’s neediness. He’s been left wanting, and you’ve been handed all of the cards. “I haven’t finished.”

“And you won’t finish inside me,” you snap at him, enjoying the longing in his voice. “Ask me very nicely and I’ll finish you off with my hand.”

“Mouth,” he demands – and he grabs your cheeks, squishing them, pulling you down and reminding you of all of the power that he has even though it’s your body that’s got the advantage of the high ground. “You don’t really think I’m going to be satisfied with your hand, princess--”

“You don’t deserve it,” you spit at him, but you sink to your knees anyway.

You’re not entirely lacking in manners. You suppose you did get to come. It would be rude to just leave him like this. Especially when the whole reason you’d ended up in this office in the first place was to apologise to him politely.

“This is the perfect position for you,” he sneers, as you open your mouth and envelope the head of his cock within it. You can taste yourself on his shaft. “Fuck, that’s right – put your mouth to good use for once--”

You give him a mean, slow lick along the slit of his cock head that makes him groan in the back of his throat. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, fingers digging into the nape so he can control you at least a little bit, pushing you a touch too far so you almost choke. You pull off it, drooling.

“Choke me again and I’ll bite,” you snarl, and he pats your cheek like you’re an obedient dog.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he says – and you narrow your eyes at him in a way that says ‘try me’ before you return to sucking at him, hollowing your cheeks. You want to do a good job. A part of you wants to make him come so hard that he regrets being an asshole to you, even though you know that’s ridiculous and not going to happen.

Still. You’re not going to back down from a challenge, so you use your tongue to play along as much of his cock as you can.

“Fuck,” Naoya breathes. “Good . . . good fuckin’ girl—”

You’ve been hearing that low, polite drawl swear and curse for what seems like hours, but that one sends another pulse of heat through you – at your heart, you can’t argue that you love being praised. You whimper against his cock, glad that the fast pace you’ve managed to establish and the wet noises of your mouth around him muffle the noise so Naoya can’t dangle it over your head.

The hand on the nape of your neck jerks, so that you’re forced to look up at him and meet his eyes proper. His hips are slamming to meet your bobs now, the noise of him fucking your mouth filling the room. His teeth dig into his bottom lip and you feel him twitch, his voice pitching--

Salt coats your tongue as he fills your mouth.

But he doesn’t let himself finish there.

He pulls out, and he pumps his cock himself two, three times – coaxing out the other ropes of come, that hit your neck and chest and breasts hot and white and glistening. You’re too surprised by it to do anything – you’d expected him to keep your mouth on him, make you swallow down everything he gave you. He seems the kind of guy who gets off on that sort of thing--

But instead, he’s sighing, relaxing back into the chair as he looks at you with lazy eyes.

“You look cute like that,” he says, his voice low and sated. “I should take a picture.”

“Fuck you,” you breathe, getting off your knees. You are so fucking thankful for the box of tissues on the Vice Principal’s desk, as you reach across and grab some to dab at yourself so you’re not sticky and disgusting for any longer than necessary.

If you leave them in his pedal waste-bin, you hope that the cleaning crew will dispose of them before the Vice Principal is even aware that they’re there. Your lip curls as you wipe your mouth. You wish you had a mint – or at least a glass of water. Even tap water would do.

For what it’s worth, Naoya seems a little agitated as he puts himself to rights too. Evidently he was not expecting you to fight back so much – he places a finger on his shoulders and scowls when he sees that you made him bleed.

“I should sue you for assault,” he says. You tap your own body, at the curve of your hips and waist.

“I’m going to bruise,” you tell him. “So I guess it would be self-defence.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he tells you, with narrowed eyes – and you give him another smile, one that is clearly fake, as you pull your tank top and shorts back on and re-tie your shoes.

You’re surprised as you go to leave the room and he sets a hand on the small of your back in a mocking echo of polite manners. As the two of you walk down the corridor towards the exit, he does not remove it. To the assembled crowds, you hope it will look entirely innocent – like the two of you have merely had a little chat and come to an agreement instead of heatedly fucking one another’s brains out.

You blink as you emerge out into the light, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. You see Principal Masamichi give you a sympathetic smile – and there’s Gojo, immediately charging towards you like an overprotective bear. He slows down as he sees the way that Naoya is still touching you.

“I hope everything’s alright,” he says, sounding stiffer and more formal than you usually hear. Naoya’s smile towards him is cold.

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “Perfect. You apologised beautifully, didn’t you, Miss?” Naoya looks down his nose at you, a conceited smile on his mouth. “I’ve decided to overlook this little transgression.” He leaves a pause, and you swallow as you realise what he’s waiting for.

“Thank you so much, Mr Zenin, Sir,” you say. Again, it feels like you have to force the words out through a mouthful of marbles – but they make it out of your mouth.

“Oh, don’t be so formal, Miss,” he smirks. “You can call me Naoya. I look forward to seeing you again – soon, I hope.”

“You’re just in time,” Gojo says coldly. “Maki just won the final race of the day for our team.”

Naoya’s gaze is sharp as he looks at him. His lip curls. You can tell that both of them want to do something – maybe have an out-and-out fist fight on the field. But Naoya manages to get a grip (you’re glad about it; you’re not entirely sure whether Gojo would have been able to hold back) and turns on his heel to stalk away.

He does give your ass one last squeeze, though, that you desperately hope that Gojo doesn’t notice.

Gojo’s shoulders stay set, his chin thrust proudly forward, until Naoya has been swallowed up by the crowd at large – and then, he turns to you. For the first time, you see his normally humorous eyebrows draw in with worry.

“You look upset,” he says. “Sweaty. You smell terrible. Do you need a minute?”

Your shoulders fall. Gojo gives you a sympathetic pat on the back.

“It’s a rite of passage to deal with someone from the Zenin family,” he says. “You’re just unlucky it happened to actually be Naoya today. He usually sends an underling or an uncle or someone to pretend to care about the girls.”

Wow. You sure hope the rite of passage has gone differently for everyone else.

“Why d’you think he came here today, then?” You ask Gojo. He looks at you strangely, a spark of something you can’t quite read in his eyes.

“Well,” he says, “he’s related to the Fushiguros, you know. I heard he and Megumi’s father have met up recently for drinks – it ended in a fight, of course, it always does. But maybe he expected Megumi’s dad to be here too?” He shrugs. “He can never resist an opportunity to relish over someone in his family winning, even if he doesn’t want Maki doing anything unladylike. Megumi’s dad isn’t here, though, so looks like that backfired on him--”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you think about Megumi’s father fucking you on Gojo’s desk – and the lingering way that Naoya had said that he’d heard so much about you from everyone.

#naoya zenin x reader #naoya x reader #naoya x you #naoya smut #naoya zenin smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #not sfw #afab reader #fem pronouns #jjk teacher aid au #jjk writing #writing

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

Text

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugo Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 16:

Another day, another round of assignments that made you want to tear your hair out. You’d made virtually no progress on your project- seeming to find nothing but Dynamight smear pieces no matter where you looked.

You felt a little hopeless and frustrated, but that was alright- you knew the perfect pick-me-up.

You frowned. That wasn’t an answer you wanted to hear, but you figured you should’ve have been that surprised.

It you’d learned anything about him over past two weeks, it was that you were expected to live in Bakugou’s world and it was his way or not at all.

You rolled your eyes in minor frustration, but answered him anyway.

You huffed, your annoyance growing.

You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t tell you anything. Was he not curious about you the way you were about him? Did he not care even a little bit?

Oh well- you knew when to pick your battles, and you could see from miles away that this was an incredibly idiotic one to pick right now.

You decided to ask him something lighter next. Maybe he’d answer then.

You sighed in nothing but utter bewilderment. Bakugou had to be the strangest person you could ever remember meeting.

You groaned audibly.

Talking to Bakugou was like pulling teeth, almost every time, and you couldn’t figure out why you kept coming back. All you knew is that you were going to, even with how annoying he was being right now.

Huh?

Embarrassing?

You wracked your brain, searching and searching for anything that could’ve been embarrassing to him. He already said he wasn’t going to ask anything inappropriate, and he’d already swore several times that he wasn’t a liar, so it wasn’t that- but if it wasn’t that then what was it?

He read your message, but didn’t begin typing.

You were just intrigued now, what was he talking about? Why was he being so cagey about it?

The more you thought about it, the more nervous you were getting. You genuinely had absolutely no guesses on what he wanted to ask you. When you told him you’d answer anything you’d meant it, but now you weren’t so sure.

Bakugou began typing a few minutes later.

You waited for his response with bated breath and shaking fingers.

It was a long shot, and you knew it. He’d been so secretive and reluctant to reveal anything about himself, you’d be really surprised if he said yes. You couldn’t help it though, typing out the suggestion the second the thought entered in your head. You wanted to know everything about him. Anything at this point- even if it was just what he sounded like when he spoke.

Bakugou began typing, but deleted his words. He didn’t start typing again.

You sighed, walking away from your phone dejectedly but not altogether that disappointed. You didn’t really have high hopes that he would’ve said yes anyway. You doubted Bakugou wanted to hear your voice as much as you wanted to hear his.

Over twenty minutes past before your phone started ringing.

Bakugou :)) - Incoming Call 7:31 PM

You took a shaky breath, unable to tell if your nerves were excitement or anxiety. Seeing the notification almost made you forget almost everything that wasn’t him.

You hit accept, bringing the phone close to your ear and holding your breath. You didn’t want to miss a single thing he said.

“Hey, dumbass.”

Wow- his voice was not what you expected but definitely what you should’ve. It was low and raspy, deep and guttural; his greeting sounded more like a bark than anything as a result. And he was loud too. So very loud and if you paid extra close attention, maybe a little breathless.

“Hey, angry man.” You couldn’t keep the joy out of your voice. “Hi.”

“Oi-idiot. I can hear you fuckin’ smiling. Knock that stupid shit off.”

“Yeah, okay.” Giggling, you shifted the phone from your right ear to your left. “I was just happy to hear your voice at first. I’ll stop now if you want.”

“I- jesus. Fuck. Don’t say embarrassing shit like that again, or I’ll hang up.” His words were fast, and sharp, and loud but you think that maybe you could hear him smiling too. “Got it, shitty woman?”

“Yep. Got it- no smiling, or fun, or laughter or emotion because wet-rag Bakugou said so.”

“Hey! Shut the fuck up! That’s not what I fuckin’ said! I’m not a shitty w-“

“I know, I know, I was joking.” You couldn’t fight the smile stretching your cheeks even wider, but you tried to sober up for him anyways. “Now, c’mon, ask me what you were gonna ask me.”

You heard shuffling on his end, the sound of a door slamming shut, and the flick of a light switch. Otherwise he didn’t say anything.

“Did- did you just switch rooms to ask me?” You asked, nerves beginning to settle in your stomach. “Jeez, how serious is this?”

Truth be told, you were a little worried now. What kind of question would require a secondary location?

“It’s not- fuck. I did switch,” He shouted, voice still breathless. You couldn’t figure out why though. “But not for that fuckin’ reason, just didn’t want shitty people- nevermind.”

“Wow, that was a whole lot of words there, and most of them were swears.” You couldn’t help teasing, hoping it would lighten the mood. “Very eloquent, Bakugou.”

“Fuckin’ suprised or somethin’? I swear like this over text too, idiot!”

“Yes, yes, I know.” You pulled the phone away from your ear, wincing slightly at just how loud he really was. “Now stop stalling, I wanna know.”

“Are you making demand-“

“Yes.”

“Don’t interrupt me, shitty woman! I’m fuckin’ gettin’ to it, Jesus! Y-you make everything so goddamn d-difficult.”

You were sure now. Bakugou was nervous. Maybe it was the excessive swearing, or the little stutter, or maybe it was the way he spoke his words so quickly that you could tell he forgot to breathe- either way, you knew it for a fact, and it only made your heart grow warmer than it already was. He was just as breathless as you and you found it adorable.

You didn’t say anything in response, instead waiting for him to start speaking again.

“I- shit. I don’t- I don’t know how to fuckin’ ask this without sounding like a pansy-ass!”

“Bakugou.” You nearly snort, already absolutely endeared by him. “C’mon- it’s fine. Just ask, it’ll be okay. What if I promise you I’ll only make you say it once?”

“Only once?”

“Yes, angry man, only once.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you can hear him breathing. Even through the phone, you can tell that his presence is loud- that nearly everything about him must be loud. It makes you wonder what a face-to-face conversation with him would be like.

You decide then that you’ll do whatever it takes so you don’t have to wonder anymore. So you’ll know for certain exactly what he looks like when he swears and screams so much.

“I wanted- I just-fuck,” His voice is somehow louder, words blurring together as he nearly screams through the speakers. “I wanted to know- I wanted to know if you were mad about that stupid shit I said a few days ago, okay?!”

You blinked slowly, trying to figure out how to respond. What- what was he talking about? A few days ago?

Oh.

You always just run your mouth no matter what I say. So just do that since that’s about the only thing you’re capable of.

You- you forgot about that until now. Almost completely, like he never even said it in the first place. And truly, at the time Bakugou said it, it did hurt; but not for that long, you knew he was just upset and probably didn’t mean it. So when you told him it was alright, you meant it. It was a shitty thing to say, for sure, but you were a big girl, you could choose your battles, and you could recognize when somebody was irritated- especially someone like Bakugou, who was incredibly obvious about his frustration.

Still though- why was he still thinking about it? Was he- was he feeling guilty? Was he really worrying about your feelings that much?

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Jesus, see, this is why I didn’t wanna fuckin’ say anything!” Bakugou’s shouts interrupt your thoughts. He speaks almost faster than you could keep up with. “Fuckin’ say something already, idiot!”

“No-no, sorry, um,” You place your phone on the ground, turning it on speaker to avoid further hearing loss. “It’s not- I don’t think it’s embarrassing or anything; I just wasn’t expecting you to ask that. I was thinking.”

He goes quiet again- and you think you can hear him huff in frustration.

“You didn’t- you didn’t fuckin’ answer, dumbass. That’s not an answer.”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re right. It’s not.” You push your knees up to your chest, crossing your arms and pulling them into your body. “I’m not. I’m not upset- we’re good. It was shitty, but I get it, you were mad.”

“Okay. Because I-I didn’t mean it, okay.” Bakugou says, softer this time, but muffled, like he’s got his hand over his mouth. “But, I-I didn’t like care or anything, I only asked because I was just curiou-“

“Curious, huh?” You couldn’t help the teasing tone from dripping into your voice. “So you weren’t even the least bit concerned about my feelings?”

“No!” Bakugou shouts.

You roll your eyes when you hear the sound of a crash, like something fell on Bakugou’s side of the call. It sounded like glass, maybe? You didn’t think it could possibly get any louder, but once again he seemed to make it happen.

“I don’t care or anything, okay? I just didn’t want you to be fuckin’ annoying as shit and still be crying like a little bitch and not be tellin’ me about it!”

“So you want to know if I’m crying or not?”

“Yes- “ Bakugou says immediately, and even you can hear the surprised gasp that leaves his mouth. “No- I meant no! I don’t care, or whatever I-”

“Mhm. Calm yourself, angry man. Whether or not you care, we’re still all good. I’m not crying.” Your tone was indulgent. “But, you know, if you really wanna make it up to me thou-

“I don’t! I’m not- there’s nothing I’m sorry about, idiot!”

“If you really want to make it up to me,” You continued, talking over his complaints without missing a beat. “You could answer something for me.”

“No.”

“Oh c’mon, this is easy. Don’t be a wuss.”

“I’m not a fuckin- fine. Go. Ask.” His words are harsh, but the tone of his voice softens just a little. “Just don’t be weird about it.”

“I’m not.” You laugh under your breath. “I just wanna know- what was it that fell earlier, angry man?”

“N-nothing!” He screams, and you could only imagine just how red he was. “Nothing fell- so, so just drop it!

“Really? Because it sounded sort of like glass?” You snicker, moving to lie down, your head next to the phone. “Are you so nervous that you’re destroying your apartment, Bakugou?”

“I’m not-“

Another crash, and then you hear popping. It reminds you of when you cook bacon on the stove- is he cooking?

“Fucking goddamit! Fuck-“ Bakugou roars so loudly you swore you could hear the spit in his mouth. The popping abruptly stops. “I’m not fuckin’ nervous! I’ve never been nervous so stop running your mouth and saying stupid shit like that becaus-“

“I’m nervous.” You say, voice small. “You make me nervous.”

There’s silence on the other end, and you think that maybe you made a mistake.

It wasn’t a lie. Bakugou did make you nervous- but maybe it wasn’t the right time to say that? Maybe it was too much vulnerability and he’d hang up out of a sheer discomfort? He was pretty allergic to emotions after all.

That thought made you frown. Your ear drums might have been screaming for him to leave, but you certaintly weren’t. You liked him and wanted him to stay on the phone- asinine wailing and all.

“Being nervous is stupid, dumbass,” Bakugou bites out, all teeth and huffed breath. “Only stupid people do it. And you’re not actually stupid so you shouldn’t do it.”

You snorted, clasping a hand over your mouth. Of course, that’s how he would respond! It wasn’t clear to you now why you ever thought he’d hang up. Bakugou always seemed to stick around- even if only to make fun of you mercilessly.

“Wow. Thank you, Bakugou. Sage advice.” You laughed.

And then it was like you couldn’t stop laughing. You couldn’t help it- that was such a Bakugou response and just by virtue of it being that, you found it hilarious. You found him hilarious, and you were so beyond happy to be hearing his voice.

“G-get closer to the phone, idiot. I can barely fuckin’ hear you.” Bakugou suddenly snapped. You heard him take a deep, slightly shaky breath. “If-if you’re gonna laugh like that then at least let me hear it.”

You felt your face warm, heart racing wildly in your chest. “Yeah. Y-yeah, okay. Got it.”

Grabbing your phone with shaking fingers, you pulled it to your chest, curling around it as you rolled on your side. The floor was slightly uncomfortable, the wood digging into your skin, but you didn’t think anything could’ve made you disrupt this moment. Nothing in the world.

“Can you hear me?” You asked, utterly breathless and suddenly very shy.

“Yeah.” He says softly. “I can.”

And you agree with him- you think that maybe you can finally hear him now too. Yelling and screaming and surprising care and all.

#mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou soulmate au #bakugou soulmate textfic #bnha fic #mha fic #bakugou imagine #bnha soulmate au #bakugou fic

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sunlight-moonrise · 3 years

Text

The Law of Attraction (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader cannot understand how Spencer is in a relationship with someone who is his complete opposite.

A/N: Hello Everyone!!! Here’s another story from the secret-fic-swap in the Discord server. I tried my hand at a new genre and I like how it came out. A big thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins for helping me make this real nice for y’all (this story was also written to her). Enjoy!

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Content Warnings: If you’re a fan of Max or Maxcer, this may not be the story for you. Sacrifices needed to be made for this story to be told.

Word Count: 4.2K

Masterlist

The thought that the concept of ‘opposites attract’ was only true when it comes to physics. After all, the comparison of people to magnets doesn’t make any sense. If two people are together, there should be some similarities to build an established relationship, right? Without that foundation, the structure will surely crumble back into the fragmented pieces that created it, leaving them cracked and weaker for it.

Compatibility is necessary, yet there is none whenever I look at them. This is the fourth function that he has brought her to, and with each event, I find it harder to look their way. But when I do find them among the crowd, I can’t look away. Like a car crash or thunderstorm ripping tree roots from the ground.

It doesn’t make sense to me, why on earth would Spencer Reid be with a girl like her.

“If you keep staring at her, she might drop dead,” said a sarcastic voice, breaking me out of my reverie. I turned to see Tara with an amused smile occupying her face.

“I just don’t get it,” I mumbled, focusing my attention on the drink in my hand.

“What’s not to get?” she asked, glancing over at the couple in question. “They seem cute together.”

“They have nothing in common. He might as well be talking to some random person in this bar.”

I chugged the remainder of my beverage with desperate hope that the alcohol will somehow make things better in this situation. It didn’t.

“You sound bitter.”

“I am not bitter,” I bit back.

“I didn’t say you were, I said you sound.”

I didn’t respond to her because deep down I knew she was right. I just fiddled with the straw in my now empty glass as Tara continued, “Look, they both like coffee and going to the park, that’s something.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped my throat at the thought.

“So do half the people on the administration floor, he might as well have a harem if those are the main qualifications.”

“So what type of person should Spencer Reid have?” she asked, an eyebrow arching up as she focused her attention on me.

“I don’t know. Someone who is family-oriented and loves kids. Someone who doesn’t judge him for his idiosyncrasies. Someone who listens to his rambles and actually responds to them. Someone who he can escape to when things get too tough. Someone who understands when to give him space but will continue to support him unconditionally. Someone who can challenge him and make each day exciting and interesting. Someone who can ke—”

“Whoa there, I didn’t think you were going to give me a whole novel.” If she thought that was a novel, then the rest of what I wanted to say would be considered an encyclopedia. The only one that Spencer would never read.

“I just want him to be happy,” I relented.

It was the simple truth. Everyone deserves some sort of contentment in their life, but with everything that Spencer has gone through in the past, his happiness should be at the forefront. He always put others before himself. It was time that someone prioritizes his wants and needs for a change.

“And she doesn’t make him happy?”

Not in the slightest.

But I didn’t want to say that. I was sure half of the team already thought, or knew, that I was infatuated with him. But I didn’t need to give them the satisfaction of a confirmation by talking about this any further. The looks that Tara had been giving me the past few minutes validated my belief that I didn’t need to dig myself into a deeper hole.

“Maybe,” I said, hoping to put an end to the topic.

But just then, I heard a laugh despite how noisy the place was. I knew without a doubt that was Spencer’s laugh – it was the only sound that would demand my attention that quickly. It was the one he used when he felt uncomfortable.

“Excuse me, Tara.”

I didn’t give her a chance to reply before I hopped off the barstool and made my way to where Spencer and his girl were as casually as possible. Jennifer and Penelope were also with them, and it seems as if the three ladies were doing most of the talking.

“….like kids someday?” I heard Pen say. I didn’t need to hear the beginning of the sentence to know what it was about.

“Ehh, certainly not. My nephew is a handful as is, I don’t think I need any more than that one in my life,” she laughed. She, of course, being the ever loving, ever annoying, Max. A quick glance at Spencer's face confirmed that he was bothered by the subject being discussed. If the rest of the ladies were a bit more sober, they’d probably have seen it too.

“Hey guys,” I interrupted, taking my previous seat next to JJ, “I ordered some water for us and some appetizers. Tara is going to bring it over when it is ready.”

Cheers and thank you were shouted across the small table, but there was only one face I cared to pay attention to. Spencer’s mouth was quirked in a sad smile that was meant to hide the discomfort that had already taken root in his heart like an invasive vine.

“Did you place my fries order?” Max asked, garnering my attention. As much as I wanted to ignore her, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t openly be a bitch to her, no matter how much she irked me. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Other than stealing the affections of a man I’d never actually pursued, that is. But I couldn’t really blame her for that one, right? I should’ve jumped on the opportunity before. It was my fault.

“Yup,” I answered quickly with a small fake smile before focusing on the wooden décor of the bar.

“So any plans for Halloween? Assuming we don’t get called in for a case of course,” JJ asked the table.

“There is this pop-up haunted house coming that weekend.” Spencer said, his voice laced with that childlike excitement that made my heart race, “It is near the annual fair, so I’m going to try and do both.”

“Awww, that’s a cute date idea.”

The table was silent for a moment before Max announced, “I probably won’t go. I am not a big fan of anything spooky or… horror. I’ll leave all of that to this guy.”

The table shared an awkward laugh in a poor attempt to lighten the mood.

“Anyway,” I coughed out, attempting to save this poor conversation, “you guys need to hear this terrible joke the bartender told me. So basically, this screwdriver walks into a bar….” and just like that, the topic had been changed.

Tara joined us shortly after and the conversation remained lighthearted for the remainder of the evening. We later said our farewells and readied ourselves to go back home. While I should’ve been sad to leave him, I couldn’t help but feel a bitter joy from the fact that Spencer and Max didn’t talk directly to each other for the rest of the night.

●●●

It’s been a couple of weeks since the last team outing. Rossi must’ve missed us, because he decided to host a dinner at his place to celebrate the ending of a long and tough case. No one was going to pass up the opportunity of free food and wine, especially after dealing with a bunch of cops and detectives with entire tree trunks up their asses.

I was the last to arrive, which was not surprising since I live the furthest away from Rossi. Krystall welcomed and settled me in while informing me where everyone was. What I assumed was a team gathering turned out to be a whole party. There were definitely more than two dozen people occupying the space.

Good god.

“What’s all this?” I asked as I greeted Rossi in the, thankfully, empty kitchen. Because, of course, Rossi wouldn’t be Rossi if he didn’t take care of all the hors d'oeuvres himself.

“Krystall wanted to celebrate our anniversary,” he sighed, as if this ordeal was somehow troublesome. I had to roll my eyes; he wasn’t fooling anyone. We all knew that Rossi would move mountains for his wife.

Their love was pure and genuine, a perfect example of two people meeting again at the right time and sharing something wonderful with one another. As I reminisced on their beautiful wedding day, a thought came to my head.

“Isn’t your first anniversary coming up in a few months?”

“That’s for our second marriage, this is for the first.” Rossi simply stated with a proud smirk, as if it was standard to celebrate any and all anniversaries in life. I supposed that for him, it was.

“Why do I get the feeling that this was more your idea than Krystall’s?”

“Guilty.”

Classic. Well, I wasn’t going to tell a man what he should celebrate nor how to do so. I wasn’t going to ruin any opportunities to eat some fresh crostini.

Once I made my way back out into the main room, I was able to find my team within seconds. My eyes instantly landed on Spencer’s tall and lanky form. And I would’ve been excited for that, if it weren’t for the familiar woman standing beside him.

Max was there. Hooray.

Usually, I was able to properly prepare myself for seeing her. It actually, unfortunately, took a lot of effort to not be openly hostile to someone I dislike. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but it was true. Typically in a situation like this, I’d avoid the person all night. However, I wasn’t going to allow her presence to influence the night, much less stop me from spending time with one of my closest friends.

“Hey guys.”

“Ahh, you’re finally here,” squealed Penelope, “I already grabbed your favorite drink!” She stepped aside to make room for me in the small gathered circle before handing me the glass.

“So what did I miss?”

They all caught me up on the harmless gossip circulating around the office and the new happenings emerging in everyone’s lives. Everything was going well until I heard the next words from Max, words that felt like a bucket of ice water and lead being poured over my head.

“Well, Spencer and I are moving in together.”

Time slowed down, I was sure it had. Because I was able to gauge everything in a matter of seconds. Tara’s concerning glance my way, her hand reaching out and retreating as if to hold me. Penelope’s joyful appearance over the news, her arms rising quickly causing her wine to slightly spill on Rossi’s floor. Matt expressing congratulations as he roughly patted Spencer on the back.

And Spencer….

Spencer looked like he rather be anywhere but here. His lips were drawn in a too tight smile that I knew was far from authentic. He was tapping his heel against the floor and wringing his hands together.

If this was merry news from the two of them, why did he look like he swallowed a spiked fruit?

The loud clanging of metal against glass brought everyone’s attention to the noisy source. Time returned back to its normal pace at Rossi’s call, thanking everyone for joining in on the celebration and announcing that the food was ready in the dining room.

While everyone cheered and made their way towards the ornate display, I headed to the balcony. It was too hot, too stuffy, too loud inside the house. There was one too many people there.

As soon as I passed through the double doors, I took a deep breath of cool, refreshing air. Everything around me felt muffled. Like I had stumbled into a small pocket universe that only differed from ours by a few notches on the volume knob.

I was thinking too many things, and none of them adding up or making sense in my head. How do you move in with someone you’ve only known for such a short amount of time? What was he going to do with his apartment? With his personal belongings that were scattered and settled on crowded shelves? Why did he look so uncomfortable when she announced it? Did he not want us to know? Did he want to say it himself?

“What are you doing out here?”

As if being brought back to reality by the very same hypnotist who enchanted me in the first place, I became aware that I was not the only one on the balcony. I turned to look at Spencer, taking in his disheveled and tired appearance.

“I just needed some space. I was feeling a bit crowded.” It wasn’t a lie, but my companion and I both knew there was a lot more than just that. Trying to keep the attention off me, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you. I saw you come out here dressed like that and wondered what would drag you out into the freezing cold.”

Now that he mentioned it, the breeze was hitting hard. I didn’t notice my body trembling until now. It is funny how you can’t feel much when lost in your own thoughts. The pain was a welcome distraction, I supposed.

Spencer stood next to me and shrugged off the suit jacket he was wearing. I opened my mouth to refuse, but he gave me a pointed look before I could. Instead, I accepted the warm jacket over my body. The scent of cinnamon and spice immediately enveloped my form and I tried to hide the way my inhales grew deeper. Trying to keep him as close as I could for however long he would allow. He kept his hands on my arms, rubbing them up and down the sleeves of the jacket to instill some heat in me.

“So whatever happened to taking it slow?” I asked bluntly, keeping my eyes on the interesting speck of dirt that had ended up on my shoe. I didn’t feel bad about getting to the point -- There was no way I could subtly ask him what the deal was, and I’d rather not beat around the bush.

“Well, after the whole situation that happened, sh— we decided to pick up the pace of things,” he spoke lowly, as if he was unsure of the words coming out of his mouth.

“Has she even met Diana? Or know about her?” I instantly regretted asking, the angry look he shot my way had me feeling remorseful. But it also answered my question.

Max only knew the surface level of Spencer. She wasn’t aware of all the good, bad, beautiful, and ugly layers that comes with a man like him. She wasn’t the only one to blame, but I wondered how a profiler couldn’t tell that he was hiding those parts from her because he didn’t want to share them with her. He didn’t want her to know, because the knowing made it real.

“I just want the best for you.”

His irritated expression dissolved into a defeated one as he released the breath he was holding.

“I know, I know. It’s just…”

He stopped talking, appearing scared to share his opinions and feelings with me before he remembered that, unlike Max, he never had to hide things from me. He didn’t want to.

“It’s just…” I prodded, hoping he would continue with what he was going to say.

But he just stayed stuck there, opening and closing his mouth multiple times. I could practically see the cogs in his brain whirling as he properly tried to explain. “Well, the thing is that Ma—”

“Spencer?”

We sharply turned our heads to see Max and Tara staring at us. It wasn’t until that moment that I remembered our position. With Spencer’s hands rubbing tenderness heat onto my arms, his jacket over my shoulders and our bodies pressed together to keep warm.

It would be one thing if everything was settled, but this situation was anything but. Max had every reason to be angry. This wasn’t a new thing to her. So when she turned around, she stomped away fueled by the belief that she’d nearly caught her boyfriend committing adultery. Again.

“Fuck,” I heard the man in front of me whisper as he released me back into the cold night.

Still, as he left, he looked back at me. His eyes burned into mine up until he tore them away, making his final decision and hastily running from the balcony. Away from me. Towards her.

Tara and I shared the silence, but she looked at me with those inquisitive eyes, as if I was a client seeking out therapy from her.

“What?” I hissed, “We were just talking.” I refused to feel guilty over something that I didn’t do. If anyone had done anything, it was Spencer. But at the same time, I didn’t think he was entirely wrong, either.

“I didn’t say anything,” she muttered, holding her hands up high as a sign of surrender.

“You didn’t have to, I can feel the judgment from here.”

“Look, I’m not judging you. But I do want you to put yourself in Max’s shoes. You guys were gone for a while and she finds you two all over each other.”

“What are you talking about, Tara? Christ, it’s not like I was fucking him on the balcony!”

Although I didn’t intend for my words to be humorous, Tara laughed. I was conflicted on whether it was at me or with me, but it ended up amounting to nothing, anyway.

“Look, the night is young and you need to relax. Come back inside, enjoy the party, and don’t let them bring you down. At least for the next few hours.”

She was right, as she usually was. It was why I usually sought her out as the voice of reason; I knew that despite everything, she would always have my best interest at heart.

“Okay,” I agreed before following her back into the chaotic fray.

I heeded her advice and avoided the couple for the remainder of the night. Shockingly, it was pretty easy, but I was sure it was because they were avoiding me too. There were times, lots of times, where Spencer and I made eye contact, but we’d just as quickly look away, as if we were ashamed of what we have done.

All we did was talk. So why did it feel like something more?

There were also times when I made eye contact with Max, but instead of shame, there was anger and contempt. If looks could kill, like Tara had suggested, I was sure my heart would have given out.

It wasn’t until later in the evening that I saw Max take a cab home while Spencer was still inside the house. No one else but me noticed that they didn’t leave the party together.

●●●

I hadn’t seen Spencer since the incident at Rossi’s a few weeks ago. He had to take his mandatory sabbatical leave and I had to take an abrupt trip back home. What used to be almost daily texts between us became nonexistent in a matter of hours. It was a terrible predicament that I was hoping to fix soon.

As I arrived, I spotted him at his desk. For a long time, I stood there staring at him. If he wasn’t nose deep in a bunch of files, I was sure he would’ve seen me, too. I contemplated on how I should go up to him, but nothing I could think of was good enough to say.

Hey, I have your jacket, I took it to the dry cleaner’s, so it is all clean. Rid of me like you wanted to be.

Hi, how were the lectures this time around? Still have a bunch of teens crushing on you?

What’s up, it’s been a while, do you want to get lunch during the break?

I hated that things were awkward, even though I was pretty sure that I was the only one that was making it so. I should have just gone up to him, greeted him, and acted like everything was normal, because everything was normal. Right?

Just when I was about to do so, Emily called us in for a meeting. Impeccable timing.

We had a serial killer case in Louisville, Kentucky. My situation with Spencer was going to the backburner.

During our stay in Louisville, Spencer and I barely interacted. We exchanged notes and passed long messages, but that’s pretty much it. I wasn’t surprised. Our specialties don’t really correlate when we are working on a case. Anytime I did catch some free time, I’d look his way, longing for the opportunity to speak to him. He didn’t look back.

Then, just as the case ended, another chance presented itself. After five days of hardly any proper rest, we finally found the unsub. Everyone was in their respective room catching up on some much needed sleep. Except for Spencer, whose gangly body was tucked away at the bar by himself, a glass of what appeared to be soda in front of him.

Silently, I took the seat next to him, and for a few minutes, everything was quiet. But unlike the usual, comfortable quiet, it was torturous.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

I stared at him, letting the silent communication denote the fact that I knew he was lying to me. Spencer released a sigh and looked at me with eyes more intoxicating than any whiskey that shared their color.

“Actually, no, I’m not okay.”

I was going to ask him what was wrong or if there was anything I could do to help, but before I had the chance to do so, he hastily answered the question I hadn’t asked.

“Max and I broke up.”

I stared at him, my face and mind blank as I tried to comprehend what he’d said. That Max and Spencer broke up. They were no longer together. Spencer was single.

I thought that if this ever happened, I would be happy, elated, jumping at the chance to take her place by his side. But I felt none of those things.

“What happened?” I didn’t want to appear nosy or meddlesome, but I needed to know.

“We were fighting a lot, and I couldn’t take it.”

“Oh.”

“We were… actually fighting about you.”

I sharply turned my head at him, both intrigued and disturbed by the implication that I had anything to do with the failure of their relationship.

“What? What about me?”

“She thought I liked you,” he said while staring straight back at me, daring me to scan through each fleck of gold and green to ensure that he was telling the truth. But his hazel eyes expressed nothing but honesty as he continued, “and she was right. I do.”

“Y-you do?”

All he could do was nod his head, lifting his hand and catching a loose strand of hair before tucking it behind my ear.

“Can I try something?” Spencer shyly requested.

Once again, the universe felt different. I held my breath, trying to wake from the dream. Although he didn’t say it, I had an idea of what he wanted. If the hand on the side of my face and the staring at my lips were anything to go by, I knew what was going to happen next.

I nodded back and closed my eyes. A few seconds passed, the sweetest kind of anticipation. But then I felt the gentle pressure of his lips against my own, sweet and tender. He moved his head to get a better angle while I brought my hands up to cup his face. The roughness of his stubble against the tip of my fingers was a perfect contrast to the softness of him. I could taste the soda he was drinking on his tongue and breathed in the cinnamon scent that seemed sunken into his skin.

When we pulled away, it was full of hesitation. All it took was one look for us to know we couldn’t do this. Not now, not yet. He was still healing from the recent break up and I didn’t want to be a rebound. I didn’t want us to resent one another for jumping into a relationship so soon. We weren’t ready.

We sat there in relative silence, taking in everything that has happened.

“Maybe one day,” he paused “one day we can give it a chance.”

“Yes. I’d like that.” I beamed at him, “And I look forward to that day. Until then, we remain as friends.”

He returned my smile and I realized that it had been a while since I’ve seen his real smile. I missed it so much.

“Friends,” he confirmed.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt relief and comfort. Because I knew everything was going to be okay. I had hope that someday Spencer will get the happily ever after he deserves and he’ll get it with me by his side. One day.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid reader insert #reader insert #hurt/comfort #secret fic swap

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motherjoel · 3 years

Text

hot cocoa (spencer reid x reader)

summary: spencer accidentally spills some of penelopes famous hot cocoa onto a beautiful stranger in the airport (who just so happens to be sitting next to him on the plane)

a/n: this one takes place during the holidays but its not all about xmas! also i tried to make this gender neutral and i think it is but if i missed something let me know

wc: 2.2k

warnings/includes: reader curses a lot & has flight anxiety, spencer is awkward and sweet

Spencer was rarely late- even when he had food poisoning from some bad chinese food, he made it into work with time to spare. Sure, he might have turned green at the sight of the evidence board, but he even made it to the trash can in time. His punctuality had come into question today, however, as he booked it to the boarding area. I shouldn’t have let Garcia distract me, he thought back to the holiday party at the office. Well, surprise party- they had all returned from a case sore and exhausted, but of course Penelope had baked an entire array of cookies and decorated the office to the brim. He stayed for one cup of hot cocoa, which turned into three, and before he knew it, his flight was an hour away. With his travel mug filled with cocoa in hand, he awkwardly ran through the airport to catch his flight home to Vegas.

Spencer never considered himself a coordinated person- sure, he had to have a certain level of finesse to be an FBI agent, but if he wasn’t a genius he never would have passed the physical. So when he found himself tripping over his own feet in the middle of an airport, he wasn’t as much surprised as he was perturbed. That annoyance soon shifted into pure embarrassment when he looked up to see you- the ethereal being he had just spilled Penelope’s famous hot cocoa onto. The beautiful person whose “I <3 DC” sweatshirt was now stained an unattractive shade of brown. His mind went completely blank in that moment, the apology he had wished to conjure up lying dead on his tongue. As he began to stammer in shock he stopped in his tracks- you were laughing. A noise Spencer swears could find world peace and end world hunger. A voice that finally encouraged Spencer to find his own.

“I am so sorry,” he apologized, hands frantically flying to his personal pack of tissues he kept in his bag. You continued to laugh, doubled over as you accepted the wad of tissues.

“Oh, it's okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “God, I definitely seem insane. Sorry, I’ve just been having one hell of a shitty day,” you began to explain, confusing Spencer even more. “So my boyfriend breaks up with me the morning of my flight across the country, which I’m running a bit late for,” you continued, glancing at your watch. “But I have to go home for the holidays of course so I pack my shit and head out anyway, but I forget a sweatshirt! I’m freezing cold so I buy this overpriced ugly thing,” you gestured to your now-stained sweatshirt. “Only for you to spill your…” you sniffed the mess, “hot cocoa?” you questioned, Spencer nodded frantically, “all over it. I guess that's one way of warming up,” you huffed.

“Wow, I- um, I don’t really know what to say. I’m really sorry about your day being bad. And for spilling my drink on you, of course, um,” he reached into his suitcase and pulled out his backup cardigan. “Here, take this,” he said, almost shoving the knitwear into your hands. “Please, it’s the least I can do,” he said, unintentionally flashing what Prentiss called his “puppy dog eyes.” He exhaled in relief as you grabbed the sweater from him, sliding off your stained hoodie and replacing it with his soft and coffee-scented cardigan.

“Thanks. And I’m sorry for dumping my days' trauma on you, but I really do have a flight to catch, so,” you gestured towards the boarding area (which just so happened to be his designated boarding area). You rushed off to board the plane after giving him a tight-lipped smile and a soft wave, leaving him in a dazed state. Breaking out of his trance, he grabbed his suitcase and continued his beeline towards the plane.

There was something about you that stuck with Spencer- although it may not have been your proudest moment, he was incredibly intrigued by you and the way you reacted to disaster. Spencer had seen his fair share of terrible coping mechanisms, but the way you laughed in the face of tragedy was something he admired- envied, almost. Envy wasn’t the right word for it, there were no negative connotations he associated with the way he felt about you. Perhaps it was too soon to tell.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped onto the plane, the anxiety of missing his flight finally lifted. Said anxiety was soon replaced by a new feeling that was ruled by a flutter in his chest, one that he had only experienced a few times in his life. This fluttery feeling was the result of seeing you planted in the seat directly next to the one written on his plane ticket. His breath caught in his throat as you looked up from the book in your hand, giving him a small wave. His eyes widened as he looked around, wondering if you were actually waving at him. You laughed and looked back down at your book, a soft smile rested on your lips. As Spencer got closer to his seat he could feel his heart rate picking up. You looked up from your book as he struggled slightly to lift his carryon into the overhead compartment. His cheeks heated up in embarrassment over the struggle, but he eventually managed to secure his carryon, taking a seat in 32 B.

“So we meet again,” you smiled at the disheveled man next to you.

“So we do,” Spencer smiled and grabbed his copy of Les Miserables from his backpack- he lost track of how many times he had read it, but it was an easy plane read for him.

“I’m Y/N, by the way. Sorry, I probably should’ve introduced myself earlier after telling you my life story. I just didn’t expect to be sitting next to you,” you said with amusement.

“I’m Spencer, and no problem. Hows, um, the sweater?” he asked, trying to continue the conversation. Normally he’d be a quarter through his book by now, but you were a rare something that was more interesting to him than Victor Hugo.

“It’s great! Cozier than my ‘I heart DC’ hoodie for sure,” you laughed and Spencer swore he heard angels singing.

“I’m glad, I felt really bad. Hot chocolate is actually a really difficult stain to remove because it has fat, sugar, tannins, and protein. It would take a lot of work to remove that stain, especially with the chocolate to milk ratio Penelope uses,” Spencer rambled, the embarrassment setting in the second he closed his mouth.

“Penelope?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, she's my coworker. She’s known for her hot chocolate and her cookies. Oh!” Spencer remembered the plastic bag of cookies Garcia had sent him home with. “Want one? They’re chocolate chip,” he said, grabbing the bag of cookies and holding it out to you.

“Sure,” you laughed, taking a bite of the surprisingly delicious cookie. “Oh. My. God. That is incredible! This Penelope person has a gift,” you laughed, finishing the cookie surprisingly fast.

“I’ll be sure to let her know,” Spencer smiled, taking a cookie for himself. A comfortable silence ensued as the two of you munched on your cookies, the plane almost done boarding.

“So, what brings you to Vegas?” you asked. Spencer was a little confused as to why you wanted to talk to him, but he decided not to question the anomaly.

“Oh, I’m visiting my mother for the holidays. I work at Quantico in Virginia so I don’t get to see her too often,” he shared, surprised at his willingness to be open.

“That’s nice! I’m kinda doing the same, except I am not returning to DC,” you sighed. Spencer felt his heart drop as he internally begged for you to elaborate, and as if reading his mind, you continued. “That boyfriend I mentioned earlier was kinda my only reason for moving here, and now that he's a cheating jackass- sorry, oversharing again, um, now that we broke up, I’ll probably just stay in Vegas,” you explained, opening the book in front of you and mindlessly flipping through the pages. He focused on the chipped nail polish painted on your bitten nails as you turned the pages, eyes moving to the title of the book.

“Le Petit Prince?” he asked, pointing at your book.

“Oh, yeah. I’m trying to teach myself some french so I’m reading this to get a little better,” you smiled before your eyes drifted down to the thick book in his lap. “You’re reading Les Mis?” you asked, slightly shocked at the french writing on the cover.

“Yeah, well it's my.... fourth, I think, time reading it. Well, in the original french,” he said, oblivious to his accidental brag.

“Damn, are you a genius or something?” you laughed, noticing the blank stare on Spencer’s face. “Wait. You are,” you pointed at him, your shock turning into joy.

“Well, technically, I am I guess,” he smiled awkwardly, trying not to flaunt his intelligence.

“That’s so cool! God, maybe if I was a genius I could get past the first chapter of this book,” you huffed, looking defeatedly at your book once again.

“May I ask, why are you learning French? It’s the fourth most important language behind Mandarin Chinese, Spanish and German. That’s just my opinion, of course,” he said, slightly flustered by the look on your face.

“Yeah, I guess it's not the most practical. But there's something so romantic about France, you know?” you asked and he nodded, blushing lightly. “I’ve always wanted to visit Paris, hell, maybe even live there. It’s stupid,” you laughed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“No, it’s not. It’s called the city of love for a reason,” he said with a tight-lipped smile. You were both silent for a moment before the flight attendants began their safety announcements and prepared for takeoff. Spencer noticed you stiffen as the engine started to rumble and the plane got faster. “Are you okay?” he asked as you shut your eyes tightly together.

“Yeah, yes, um. I just have really bad flight anxiety,” you confessed, eyes remaining closed. The plane lifted off the ground and you sucked in a deep breath, instinctively reaching over to grab Spencer's hand. All thoughts of germs and disease had completely left his mind at your touch- facts and logic meant nothing at this point if it meant you wouldn’t let go. “Could you just um, distract me?” you asked, peeking at him from the corner of your eye, hand still clutching his.

“Oh, yeah of course,” he said, thinking quickly for a distraction before grabbing the book from your lap and opening it to the first page. In perfect french, he began to read. “Lorsque j’avais six ans j’ai vu, une fois, une magnifique image…” he read for almost an hour before he felt your head relax on his shoulder, eyes closed. He continued to read for a bit longer before the lull of sleep pulled him under as well, your touch comforting him and providing safety.

Spencer woke a few hours later with a start to the seatbelt light beeping on. Gathering his bearings he looked to his left to see you already awake, looking at him with a smile.

“You’re cute when you sleep. Snore a bit, though,” you laughed and yawned, looking out the window. Spencer's heart rate picked up at your mussed hair and dazed expression. “Thank you for reading to me. I’m completely chill now,” you reassured him.

“Oh, no problem. Also, I’m not the only one who snores,” he quipped, a soft smirk on his lips.

“Hey, gimme a break! That was the most I’ve slept in days,” you defended.

“Believe it or not, me too,” Spencer realized, surprised that he slept more on an airplane than in his own bed. Maybe that difference was you.

“Looks like we’re almost landing,” you noticed, causing a pang in Spencer’s chest.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” he acknowledged with a slight tone of disappointment.

“Hey. So this might sound crazy, but what if I gave you my number? And while you’re still in Vegas, maybe we can hang out? Sorry if this is too forward,” you cringed in embarrassment.

“No!” he started, eyes wide.

“Oh, okay. I shouldn’t have asked,” you immediately took back your statement.

“No! I mean, it's not too forward. I, uh would love to… hang out with you,” Spencer said, the words seeming unfamiliar on his tongue. The smile you gave him seemed to stop the earth for a few seconds (although Spencer knew this was scientifically impossible, something about you defied laws of science).

The plane soon landed and numbers were exchanged, and one unexpected (but lovely) goodbye hug was given, and Spencer was floating. He couldn’t wait to tell his mom.

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#spencer reid #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid/OC #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds Reid

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obeymeluv · 4 years

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Signs they Love You

Back for my 1 post a week to prove school hasn’t totally killed me! When I get a semester break, I’ll post more often. In the mean time, feel free to leave me chats or PMs for stuff you want to see! :) Something nice and sappy for an okay Saturday

These turned out really long so I only did Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, and Satan. I have to get back to studying :/. Maybe I’ll have part 2 next week?

Lucifer

You wouldn’t be able to notice it because his pride wouldn’t allow you to. One of the brothers (or, to Lucifer’s extreme mortification, Lord Diavolo) would have to tell you

He’s not sure if it’s just the appreciation of you not being as totally chaotic as his brothers or genuine human naivete that has somehow worn off on him, but he loves you

Will be outed by sappy, soft stares that last 2 seconds too long.

Asmo and Satan are the first to notice and he LOATHES that

If he’s tasked with waking you up that morning, his knock will be firm but his voice will be gentle. Almost persuasive or commiserating

If you’re feeling overwhelmed by school workload, he may have a private conference with the teacher and grant you a minor extension. Will you know it was him? No. Is he happy to see you brighten up and refill with hope just a bit? Definitely. Is it worth the teasing from Lord Diavolo? ...Sure.

If he responds to texts in the wee hours of the morning when he’s still pouring over paperwork, he likes you.

Anyone who knows him can see how his eyes soften when someone else talks about you. There’s a fond slowness to his actions, how he glides his hand imperceptibly over his chest as if to feel where that emotion is coming from. Boy is whipped.

Should Lord Diavolo invite him out for a meeting, he will bring you back something small. Something he thought you’d like. Beel is upset. Levi yells “SIMP!” from the second floor and prepares for Armageddon.

Actually reminds you about assignments if you’re not already up on it yourself. Your success is his joy.

Is very keen on if/when you burn the candle too long and has a sixth sense for bad sleeping habits. Will put you on a stricter schedule for your own health

It may take almost all of the brothers to do it (or just help from Diavolo) but if he gets drunk on Demonus you’re getting a whole BOOK about why he likes you. He almost charms your memory away but everyone practically dog-piles on him not to because he needs to deal with his feelings.

You’re the only one he won’t chase out of his study when he’s doing paperwork. He’ll even set up a little fire if you like the fireplace.

How he confesses: tries to take you on a fancy date to Ristorante Six. Does not know that Lord Diavolo and Barbatos know about this (damn time-travelling butler!) and basically crash the date just to encourage him. Just long enough to encourage him.

Kind of an, “So you chose this idea, Lucifer? Admirable! I’m sure your date will be amazing! Enjoy your evening!” as Diavolo walks back to his table.

Does Lucifer deny it? Look and see how red his face is. If you’re really not sure, ask Diavolo. He will gladly yell, “I cannot lie!” across the restaurant.

Mammon

For all his talk, when he really, really decides he likes you, he doesn’t know what to say.

He can console himself with how obvious it is and how you made the best choice, but he has to show it! What to do?

Mammon’s kind of confused about it because he doesn’t really change how he behaves. You didn’t catch on already?! C’mon, human!

What, does he have to spell it out for you? Do an interview with Majolish?

His first tactic is to just be around you. Be subtle, and maybe cuddle a bit more than usual. Things to show he’s kittenish and at your mercy. Comfortable with you.

You don’t seem to be getting the hint so he throws the net a little wider by trying to find things you like or that you’ve been talking about. They mysteriously show up at your door.

It sends the others on a gossip train about who your admire could be and when they list off everyone BUT him, he wants to slam his head on the table.

Feeling tired? Coffee! Backpack heavy? Silly human, the BEST man can help you with that, OBVIOUSLY! Mammon jumps at the chance to do any little thing for you because he cares. His actions always speak louder than words.

Feeling kind of defeated and embarrassed, Mammon will go talk to the flock of crows that meander around the House of Lamentation’s yard when he really needs them.

For the next few days you’re accosted in the nicest way, birds chirping at you and dropping off various shiny things

You collect them, finally showing them to Mammon and he’s embarrassed that his representative animal has taken to courting you on his behalf.

He calls them to him, embarrassed and ready to rant or fall into the ground never to be seen again, when they start talking. Repeating all the things he’s practiced saying.

“Hey baby,”, “Hey human,” “Love you!”, “Silly! Silly!”, “Dummy, no, dummy!”, “My human.”

It’s broken and confusing, six or seven bird children cawing in your face and bobbing, but you get it.

Levi

Levi’s not the best at expressing himself but it counts, right? As much as he hates to admit he’s some kind of shy tsundere, you know what that is, right? He doesn’t have to say it?

Yes. Yes he does. His brothers are getting too chummy with you and you don’t understand his signals. Time for Plan B.

If you get invited to stand in line for a midnight release, he hopes you take it. Then it’s just you two hanging out in line? What’s this? He brought snacks? Totally not for the two of you BUT you an have some if you’re hungry. It’s whatever

When he’s not doing boss raids and playing with online friends, he’ll ask if you want to play something with him. A Player 1 needs a Player 2, you know?

I headcanon that Levi knows how to play some unusual instruments like the kalimba or a real ocarina. I could see him making you a song on one of those. Or just playing it because you inspire him. He’s very good with a harp and will play it when he’s in the mood.

Boy also likes to draw and paint. Especially loves watercolors. Would it be weird if he gave you a painting of you as a mermaid? Just you and the ocean. Beautiful.

Was there a really cute plush or knickknack you liked? Levi has his ways, regardless of how rare or limited edition it is. It will be yours.

He has a hard time understanding a passing comment of interest versus a genuine want because he genuinely wants everything he’s interested in, so if you hear a whisper about him almost securing something, stop and look it up. Make sure it’s not super expensive!!

Probably outed by Belphegor, who feels like Levi’s broadcasting all of his stress, frustration, and hope through his dreams. (”His dreams are weird. Just different ways of asking them out, and if he messes up it restarts like a simulation. My brain hurts.” he says to Beel)

You’re allowed to come into his super-restricted bedroom haven when everything’s too much. It’s very exclusive since the Mammon incident. Be happy.

Might go swimming in his big tank and pick a seashell or rock to make a necklace out of. He hopes you like it.

If he’s not outed by Belphie, some of his online friends made a game demo they wanted him to try. They specified it was two player so he asked you to join in. While he’s in the middle of bragging about how he knows people, knows developers, he totally misses the dating-sim like dialogue and the big reveal.

Doesn’t really kick in until he realize the characters look like you two. You’re busy saying ‘Yes’ to “Do you like me?” as Levi absolutely threatens to rip them apart six ways to Sunday. Almost in full demon mode, too.

Everything falls out of his brain and quiets in his throat when he realizes the characters are kissing and ‘THEY SAID YES!’ flashes on the screen.

“Y-You like me?”

“Yep.”

It was that easy all along. Levi thinks he’s going to faint.

Satan

Becomes aware of it pretty quick but ignores it for a looong time

Is it rude or foolish of him to assume you would also like him back?

Run away into books. A solid plan. If you don’t think about it, it’s not an issue

Oh, but it is an issue when you fall asleep after a mutual day of reading, forced in by bad weather. He finds his heart fluttering in a painful squeeze as he quietly whispers all the things he dare not say when you’re awake

It’s nervous poetry, and it’s beautiful

Satan tries to get himself back on track, to focus on reading, and he gets frustrated when he’s stuck on the same page almost an hour later

When you’re on the brain he just can’t do anything else

How does one show their affection? He’s swimming in books for a new reason now, as voracious as ever

He brews you a pot of Melancholy Coffee and is a bit disappointed you don’t know the meaning behind the bitterness. Wants to break the pot when Lucifer jokes about how it tastes exceptionally bitter to him as well.

Okay, so coffee didn’t work. What else do people do when they show their affections?

Asmo suggests a ‘not a date’ date and Satan sighs inside. Sounds like a lot of work and effort. It’s not that you’re not worth it, but he has a feeling that everyone will know and look at him the whole time.

Tries anyways. You guys go to a beautiful nature conservatory and take a tour of the plants and some indigenous animals

You’re starting to realize it now, he can tell. Satan tries to answer your question without saying it while you’re at school. You walk together, he offers to carry some of your books, and always requests that he be your project partner

Nearly there. If there was a single defining moment for him, he’d want it to be classic. He shows up at your door with a rose and asks you to go on a moonlit walk.

Mammon’s poking fun about how cheesy and cliche it is, Asmo’s gearing up to shut Mammon’s stupid mouth, and Satan just whisks you out the door with an aggravated sigh.

No matter what side of the house you’re on, Asmo throws up the biggest, gaudiest handmade sign that’s like ‘CUTEST COUPLE! 10/10!’

#Obey me!#Obey me x reader #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Levi x Reader #Leviathan x Reader #Satan x Reader

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peachtree-dish · 3 years

Text

A Te Che Sei Il Mío Grande Amore

Chapter 3: Senza che tu mi dica niente tutto si fa chiaro

Luglio 01, 1969

Luca’s birthday rolled around faster than anyone expected, the day arriving with clear skies and high temperatures. Luca awoke to his mother’s voice echoing through their home as she prepared breakfast. Stretching, the fifteen-year-old shook his nonna as gently as he could to wake her. She grumbled at his attempts and swatted at his claws.

“Nonna,” he sighed, shrugging with a smile and swimming into the kitchen to greet his parents. During his time in Porto Rosso, Luca enjoyed every moment he could swimming and spending as much time in the water since he couldn’t do as much in Genoa. He, along with Giulia and Signora Mia, had snuck to the shoreline in the early hours of the morning every few weeks or so just so Luca could refresh his scales and get the nutrients he needed. It was especially necessary when the temperature had become too cold and made him lethargic and ill. Luca shook his head softly, sending bubbles rippling above him in search of the surface. Signora Mia had been just as kind as Massimo, and just as headstrong in a lot of ways. He made a silent promise to call her with Giulia to make sure she was doing well, even if he were sure nothing could fell the infamous Mia Berni.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Daniella kissed Luca’s cheek and handed him a plate full of seaweed and fish flank on his way to the table. Returning the sentiment, the youth sat beside his father and informed his parents that grandma had decided to sleep in a little longer.

“Ugh, she does this every time. MA!” Daniella shouted in frustration, only to be startled by her own mother swimming around the corner.

“You’re being dramatic, dear. I only do it when I think it will annoy you.” The elderly sea monster smiled toothily at her disgruntled daughter who muttered, “Which is every day,” and finished setting the table.

“So, how does it feel to be another year older, son?” Lorenzo floated a piece of fish to his mouth and chewed animatedly, his gaze never leaving Luca’s. Luca shrugged in response and picked at the seafood drifting across the coral table.

“Not any different than last year, honestly. I still feel like I’m fourteen, so nothing special.” He slurped the seaweed into his mouth, much to his mother’s chagrin, and instantly missed the taste of pasta.

“Fifteen is a pretty big deal, though, you’re becoming a young man and that means changes and more responsibility.”

“I hardly think now is the time to discuss any of that at the table.” Luca’s grandmother scoffed before he could reply.

“What, it’s just the basics; Longer tail and fins, not to mention attracting the pretty lady gills, eh?” Lorenzo nudged Luca in the side who nearly choked on his food and spluttered white bubbles over the table, his scales flushing darkly.

“Lorenzo!” Danielle cried, her claws slapping the table in mortification.

“What? We were around his age when we met. If I remember correctly, you thought I was quite the catch.” He batted his eyes at her, pursing his lips teasingly.

“I was young and silly; I didn’t know any better.” Try as she might, Daniella couldn’t stop the smile that threatened to break her scowl. She busied herself by shredding the fish flank and wrapping it in seaweed. Undeterred, Lorenzo lifted from his chair and leaned in closer, trying to further fluster his wife.

“Yeah, maybe, but you still accepted my courting pearl after the Spring Swim Festival.” Lorenzo pulled a reluctant Daniella out of her chair and began to lead her around the room in spins and pivots, grinning madly as she shrieked with laughter. Luca watched with a mixture of amusement and confusion, his discomfort fading as he pushed the idea of ‘lady gills’ far from his mind. When he peered at his grandma, she appeared nonplussed and continued munching on her food although a genuine smile lifted her aging scales.

“You were skinnier and more handsome then, of course, she fell for you.” Lorenzo pouted at his mother-in-law and led both he and Daniella back to the table.

“I simply grew into my man body,” He emphasized his point by sticking his gut out even farther and patted it proudly. The table burst into laughter and Luca quickly finished eating after, his stomach nearly as full as his heart.

After he finished, he turned to his mother and asked, “Is it ok if I go visit Alberto and Giulia for the afternoon?”

Daniella conceded with a content nod, “Just don’t forget about our dinner tonight at Massimo’s, we don’t want you kids to be late.” Luca agreed cheerfully and kissed each family member on the cheek before swimming out the entrance.

“Hey!” Luca turned mid swim to see Daniella at the entrance. “I love you.”

“I love you too, ma!” Grinning, Luca took off, the water gliding past him as he made his way to the surface and his friends. As he leaped through the blue waves, he imagined he was like the superhero from the newspaper comics that Giulia and Mia both read. Pointing both fists forwards, Luca broke the surface with a whoop, water streaming behind him like a cape.

When he arrived at the Marcovaldo residence, the only beings there to greet them were Machiavelli and a few of his kits, each of whom wanted his attention and brief affection. Finding some of his spare clothes in the drawers of Alberto and Giulia's shared room, Luca quickly left the house and wandered the streets, eager to find his friends. Judging from the sun, he knew the morning fishing trip had come to an end not too long before which should mean Giulia, and Alberto was out delivering. Walking through the town square, Luca waved to a few of the patrons he recognized, mentally wincing as he remembered his first attempts at greeting Porto Rosso’s patrons. If anyone had been the stupidi, it had been them.

Chuckling as he went up the city’s hill, Luca caught sight of two familiar heads of curls along with two faces he was not expecting. Tensing at the sight of Guido and Ciccio, Luca prepared himself for a fight and made to run the rest of the way before he heard laughter. Guido was laughing at something Alberto had said and lightly touched his shoulder. Somehow, the movement was worse than if he had punched Alberto instead. A dark and ugly feeling reared its head within Luca’s belly, causing his face to burn and his hands to clench. Clenching his teeth, the young sea monster marched up the cobblestone pathways, intent on not showing his discomfort.

“Ciao,” he muttered shortly, arriving beside Alberto, and instantly causing Guido to lift his hand from Alberto’s shoulder. Giulia nodded hello from her seat on the bike as Alberto wrapped an arm around Luca’s shoulder.

“Oh, hey Luca,” Alberto cheered even more so upon seeing Luca. “You remember Guido and Ciccio, vero? I helped their families in the off-season while you were away.” Luca looked at the two teens who stood abashedly in front of him and offered his hand after a moment of hesitation.

“It’s good to see you both again,” Not, he thought as he shook the brunette’s hand. Ciccio spoke up, his round features coloring.

“We realize we never officially apologized to you before you left, si? We’re really sorry about last summer, Luca.”

“Si, Ciccio, and I were very foolish and ignoranti, we hope you can forgive us, and we can start again.” Guido smiled warmly, his gaze sincere. Taking a deep breath, Luca felt his earlier feeling of… whatever it was, fading away. If Alberto and Giulia both felt they could trust these boys again, then he could follow their lead.

“Lo apprezzo. I know being around Ercole wasn’t the easiest either, it’s all water under the bridge now anyway.” He smiled genuinely this time, heartened when the two ex-henchmen immediately relaxed.

“Bah, no lie, I’m so happy to be rid of that jerk,” Guido nodded at Ciccio who nodded and twisted his hands anxiously.

“He ate so much of my family’s bread,” Ciccio whispered horrified, his gaze wide. Giulia shared a weirded-out expression with Alberto who only shook his head.

“I didn’t know your family baked,” Luca interceded, ignoring his friends’ lack of subtlety Snapping back to the present, Ciccio grinned widely showing his perfectly white teeth.

“Oh, si, Pasticcini al sale Marino is the pride and joy of Porto Rosso and my family. Our baked goods bring customers from miles around; you should see the line of people who want to buy my mother’s Sfogliatella.” He leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “My siblings and I have been helping since we were little, so only we know the recipe.” He puffed his round chest out proudly, only to be poked by both Alberto and Guido.

“Knowing a recipe and following it correctly are two different things, Ciccio. Your batter was not very good the last time you tried to make Bombolini.” Guido teased and Alberto nodded knowingly.

“I still don’t know how you mixed up salt and sugar,” the older sea monster screwed his face in disgust, remembering how the supposedly sweet treats and mistakenly been made with copious amounts of salt. “Seriously, Ciccio, even the ocean’s not as salty as those things were.” Ciccio pouted good-naturedly as the group laughed.

“It’s still not as bad as the time Guido set the auto garage on fire,” the blond argued mildly to which said boy grimaced.

“I thought we agreed to never speak of that again; I thought my papa was going to skin me alive.”

The teens chatted a bit more and Luca began to warm up to the two boys who had hurt him so much the past year. Perhaps, he reasoned, they had been good all along and had simply needed the chance to prove themselves.

Bidding Guido and Ciccio farewell, Luca joined Alberto and Giulia as they made the rounds. Luca asked a question that had been on his mind since arriving in Porto Rosso.

“So, whatever happened to Ercole? I haven’t seen him since we’ve been in town.” Alberto placed the cash from his previous sale into the leather pouch of the cart before answering.

“Honestly, the guy kind of disappeared after the race. I think he was embarrassed enough to keep his head low for a while, but other than that, I’m not sure. Maybe he left?” Giulia thought for a moment, her gaze focused on the road ahead.

“Maybe, I don’t think he went away to university, but he could have. His family is really wealthy, so they could afford it no matter the grades he got.”

Luca kicked a pebble, his thoughts skipping back to that one word: university.

“What’s the point of grades anyway, doesn’t that, like, stress you out more?” Alberto mused.

“It certainly does for me,” Giulia huffed. She bid Buongiorno to a young mother who bought the last of their fish and both Luca and Alberto filled the empty space as they headed back down the hill.

“I think it’s mostly competition, to see who really wants to be an academico or no,” she contemplated. “Sometimes if you have really good grades, the universities will pay you to study in their schools. That happened to mama when she moved to Genoa.” Alberto winced slightly at the mention of Giulia’s mother, the story of her separation from Massimo fresh in his memory.

“I wonder if I was good enough, they’d do that for me?” Luca hummed, his eyes following the drains that spread across each building they passed.

“Well, duh, they’d be stupid not to; you’re better than good enough right now,” Alberto bumped his shoulder with a smile. Luca blushed and tossed his friend a grin.

“Hey, happy birthday by the way. It’s about time you got to my age,” the older boy winked and wrapped his arm around Luca again, causing Luca’s skin to hum with energy.

“Oh, yeah! Are you excited for tonight?” Giulia asked over her shoulder.

“Thanks, you guys, really,” Luca felt warmer with Alberto’s arm around him, and he was sure it had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. He wondered briefly if said boy could feel how hard his heart was pounding. “Should I be excited, I thought we were just having dinner?” Luca asked, brow furrowing in confusion. He twisted around to face Giulia as she pulled into the plaza and made her way towards the small coastal home. Alberto lifted his arm when Luca turned away, causing him to feel its loss.

Giulia glanced at him and grinned excitedly. “Papa saved some fireworks from the Festa Della Repubblica since we were in Genoa, and he wants to set them off for tonight.” Luca gasped and jumped in his seat.

“Santa mozzarella! Are you serious?!” He shared an animated glance with Alberto who smiled as he hopped off the cart.

“Of course! I mentioned to him how much you had enjoyed the fireworks during Vigilia di Capodanno last December. He decided that would be his gift to you this year.” Giulia locked the bike and carried their bag of earnings inside, the two boys following after her.

Inside they found Massimo at his stove, his presence filling up the majority of the room. He turned to greet them as they entered, placing a kiss upon Giulia’s curly head.

“Buon cumpleanno, Luca. May you live to see many more,” Massimo rumbled fondly, patting Luca on his checkered shoulder. Luca returned the sentiment and wrapped a short hug around the large man, his arms too small to wrap fully around him.

“Grazie, Massimo. For your wishes and for your surprise gift,” Luca pulled away while Massimo smiled happily, his eyes disappearing behind his bushy eyebrows.

“Giulia,” Massimo chided lightly, turning to his daughter who was counting out money, “I thought we agreed to keep it a secret until after dinner?” Giulia smiled apologetically.

“Scusa, papa, we were just too excited,” She and Alberto began counting the coins on the table while Massimo ushered Luca over to the stove.

“Come, Luca, you will help me prepare dinner,” Massimo handed him a bag of clams and ordered him to wash them thoroughly in the sink. Luca would be the first to admit he was not a cook, but Massimo was gentle in his orders and easily guided Luca in making a perfect pasta dinner.

Once the Paguro family arrived along with Ciccio and Guido, once again to Luca’s surprise, the night was filled with much laughter and filling food. The linguine pasta alle vongole was instantly a hit and paired nicely with the red wine Ciccio had brought on behalf of his family. To the teens’ disappointment, the adults were adamant that they were still too young for alcohol. At one moment, Lorenzo laughed so hard, he inhaled his pasta and sent part of it into his nose much to the delight of the children. After dinner, the group trouped outside with fireworks and dessert in hand. While Massimo and Lorenzo set up the fireworks near the edge of the waterline, Daniella, Giulia, and Ciccio helped serve gelato and watermelon.

With a happy sigh, Alberto nestled himself into the sand alongside Luca, happily chewing on the red-fleshed fruit. Luca’s eyelids were drooping as his body felt full and warm, accompanied by his own friend’s radiating heat. His gaze lingered as Alberto licked gelato from his lips, the cream dripping from the corner of his mouth. Forcing his eyes to look anywhere else, Luca shifted closer to Alberto. Instead, his gaze landed on his father asking animatedly about the fireworks in Massimo’s hand, the larger man looking both confused and entertained by Lorenzo’s energy.

“I know I already said it, but happy birthday,” Luca dragged his eyes back to the tanned boy next to him and smiled. He jumped slightly at the first explosion, watching in delight as the light of the fireworks made his friend’s skin glisten with multicolored hues.

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” He replied easily. Neither made comment as their arms brushed or as their hands splayed out behind them with barely any space between. Up above the merry group, bright color after bright color bloomed across a starlit sky, the stars twinkling their own delight.

#luca #pixar luca #luca fanfiction #alberto scorfano #disney #alberto x luca #giulia marcovaldo #luca 2021 #luca x alberto #my fic tag #my favorite siblings #my fish bois #mutual pining #queer fanfiction #massimo marcovaldo #Daniella Paguro #lorenzo paguro #found family #a te che sei il mio grande amore

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vs-redemption · 3 years

Note

Ahhh I just discovered your blog and I love it so much! Sorry to be angsty right off the bat, but can I request an Aizawa x reader where he has to assure them that the reader's interests have value or something along the lines? I get shut down so often when I accidentally gush about stuff I find cool (ladybugs) so I'm unfortunately more reserved now but yeah :)

From Cindy: It is now two hours past my usual bedtime and I don’t think I’m going to make it much longer. Before I sleep though, I am posting this as promised. I did reread it a couple times, but my tired brain isn’t up to full capacity. I hope it’s okay. Also, please don’t let people make you feel bad about the things you enjoy. Seriously, I hate when people do that. There’s enough negativity in the word without the good stuff being taken away on top of that. As long as you aren’t hurting anyone else, like what you like and never be ashamed of it! ♥

Ladybugs Aizawa x Reader

Everyone has those certain things they avoid revealing about themselves at the beginning of a relationship, romantic or otherwise, for fear of scaring the other person away. In some extreme cases, people might want to keep those parts of themselves hidden forever. For you, it was a particular hobby of yours being revealed too soon that made you a little cautious when meeting new people. You had a ready list of suitable answers stored in your brain for the inevitable moment someone asked you about your interests. It wasn’t like you were into something taboo or anything like that. It’s just that you’d been on the receiving end of enough judgmental looks to know it was better to keep that particular information to yourself.

When you first started to get to know Aizawa, you’d stuck to topics you knew he’d be able to relate to like music, movies, and books. It was easy enough to find common ground that way and you wouldn’t have to worry about him thinking you were some kind of weirdo. This strategy worked well for you and it wasn’t long before the amazing man was asking to be your boyfriend. Things between the two of you were really great, and on the random day when he called you up and asked if you wanted to get some ice cream and take a walk in the park, your secret pastime was the furthest thing from your mind. You were just looking forward to having a fun date with the guy you were slowly falling in love with.

“The weather is so nice today!” You sigh happily, walking hand in hand with Aizawa through the park he’d taken you to.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” he tilts his head toward you with a content smile, “I got lucky having today off.”

“You really do work way too hard, Shota,” you tell him seriously. “Between your classes and hero work it’s a wonder you have any free time at all.” He lets out a laugh and nods his head in agreement as a planter full of flowers on the side of the path you were walking on catches your eye. Aizawa notices the shift in your attention and slows down a little so you both could admire them.

“They plant new flowers in this park every couple months,” He mentions offhandedly. “It’s one of the reasons I enjoy coming here. Do you know what kind they are?”

“Geraniums,” you answer automatically as your eyes scan over the plant, a smile growing across your face as you spot a ladybug crawling over one of the leaves. You let go of Aizawa’s hand so you could crouch down and reach out to invite the insect into your palm. “Ladybugs are attracted to plants like this because there are plenty of smaller pests for them to feed on.” You turn to look over your shoulder at him as the ladybug crawls over your fingers. “Did you know they can play dead like possums do?”

Aizawa raises his eyebrows and before he has a chance to respond you realize what you’d said. You place the ladybug back onto the plant and stand up quickly, taking his hand into yours again and offering to continue your walk. Your boyfriend eyes you curiously as you lead him forward. Embarrassment washes over you and you internally berate yourself for being awkward. You try to go back to eating your ice cream normally, hoping to move past the moment quickly.

“I actually didn’t know that,” he replies after a pause. “I’m guessing they do that as a way to avoid getting eaten by predators?”

“Yeah,” you simply nod, knowing you could probably give an entire lecture on the topic but the thought of boring him to death held you back.

“That’s interesting,” Aizawa continues to watch you for a moment. “Are you really into gardening or something? You looked pretty excited for a minute. We can go back over there if you want.”

“No, it’s fine,” You assure him with a smile. “I just… think ladybugs are kind of cool, but I know that’s a bit weird so…”

“I don’t think that’s weird,” Aizawa rubs his thumb over your knuckles.

“Maybe,” you say after a small glance up at him. “Still, I’ve been told that it’s annoying when I go off on tangents and I don’t want to bother you.”

“Hey,” Aizawa stops walking and gives you a serious look. “You’re allowed to talk about the things that make you happy, especially around me.” He lets out a laugh of embarrassment of his own while giving your hand a squeeze. “You’ve never met any of my students but you let me rant about them to you all the time. Is that annoying to you?”

“No! Of course not!” You assure him, a smile blooming on your face. “It’s nice that you’re so passionate about your job and I like seeing the joy on your face when you talk about them.” Aizawa returns your smile and nudges your arm playfully.

“I feel the same way about you,” he confesses. “I want to know all about the things you love. If something is important to you, it’s important to me. And if it brings a smile to your face, that’s even better.” You both continue on your walk as Aizawa hums thoughtfully. “And honestly, nobody should judge you or make you feel like you’re not allowed to talk about things that interest you anyway. Your hobbies make you who you are and if everyone liked the same stuff, life would be extremely boring.”

“Thanks Shota.” You could tell he was being genuine by the look on his face, and it felt nice to have a bit of validation. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”

“I’m not just saying it,” He assures you, “I truly mean it. And unfortunately, there are always going to be people who try to make you feel bad for being happy, but it’s usually because they’re unhappy themselves. It’s easier said than done, but we have to try not to let people like that get us down.” Aizawa leans in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Just remember that you can always come to me to rant and rave about whatever you’d like.” The pep talk was short and sweet, but his words did give you a little more confidence. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more open about your unique interests in the future.

“So,” Aizawa speaks up again a moment later, “when did you start getting into ladybugs?” You smile at his question, hesitating for just a second before launching into the full story.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #cindy's writing #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa

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nerdywriter36 · 3 years

Text

To Help the Helpless

AO3

FFN

erik sees himself in all the sick, injured, and abandoned pets he sees in animal shelters and is determined to give them the love and comfort that they deserve in their time of need when he wasn't granted the same as a human being. christine and their friends could not be happier to help.

this concept was born out of a discussion about erik and his pets with @ofserien, so thank you to her for helping to bring this idea to life :) it's been so long so I've posted on here because of my hiatus, but the first oneshot I've written since officially returning to tumblr. i really hope you all enjoy it! likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

"You brought in another one, Erik? Isn't your house full enough already?"

Erik simply rolled his eyes and turned to look back at Nadir, who was glancing at the variety of dogs and cats residing in their crates throughout his living room. "There is never too many rescues, Nadir, especially not when I'm taking them away from people who will put them down simply because they aren't getting adopted," he replied.

"And what's wrong with this one?" Nadir queried, gesturing to the puppy that his friend was carrying rather like a football - tucked against his side and laying along his forearm. "It looks fine to me."

"He had an old injury that was never fixed before he was turned in, so he doesn't look as perfect as people want," Erik said as he held the puppy up so Nadir could see his bowed front leg. "Otherwise, he is completely happy, energetic, and healthy, but people don't care. Looks are everything in this world."

His voice broke a bit, he noticed, and he knew that Nadir had heard it too. Every day was a different story when it came to how emotional he would get when it came to explaining why the animals had been abandoned and why their little lives were at risk. He hated that it still happened; he had been rescuing shelter animals for the better part of two years, not to mention the fact that most of his own struggles because of his appearance were behind him, but some days were simply harder than others.

He really was fortunate for all that he had to make his life as "normal" as possible, even with his physical differences. A prosthetic nose saved him far more grief than he believed people could understand and the mask he wore was so realistic and close to his skin tone, as remarkably pale as it may have been, that he hardly got rude stares anymore when he was out and about. It made quite the difference in his professional life as well; no one at the Paris Opera House wanted to accept compositions from a deformed freak, no matter their talent. His heterochromatic eyes were enough to put people off sometimes.

"I know, Erik, I'm sorry," Nadir piped up as he shot him a sympathetic smile. "I think what you're doing is great, you know that, I just worry about your stress levels. Not having to worry about you financially, but you're a composer making consistent contributions to the Paris Opera, you run an animal rescue, and now you have a girlfriend. That's a lot for one person!"

"Nadir, I'm fine," Erik replied, passing the puppy he held to his friend and smirking as it eagerly started to wiggle and lick at Nadir's neck and chin. "I'm managing it all, and having a girlfriend doesn't change much."

"Right, you say that now." Nadir turned his head away from the eager puppy, wiping his chin on his shoulder. "What is this thing anyway?"

"Australian shepherd, hence the energy." Making his way around the room, Erik checked the status of every food and water dish, but a buzz from his cell phone made him pause. As he pulled it out of his pocket, he couldn't help but smile when he saw a message from the new light in his life: Christine.

He still wasn’t exactly sure how he had gotten so fortunate as to have Christine in his life. After all, their first introduction had been at the Paris Opera House when he had nearly run her right over in his eager rush to leave the very same building. As intricate and realistic as his mask may have looked, he never enjoyed being out in public, and he knew that everything about him was under harsh scrutiny when it came to the committee of men taking his submissions and suggestions for the music at the Opera. He wouldn’t have become a successful composer, having his music played at one of the most prestigious opera houses in the world, without them, but with the way they stared at him whenever he walked in, it certainly wasn’t easy to face them.

“Is that the new light of your life?” Nadir asked with a smirk, watching the lovesick smile growing on his friend’s face. “What did she say?”

“Just ‘hi’,” Erik replied, his unmasked cheek already flushed pink as he replied to the message.

Nadir scoffed and set the puppy down in a small pen filled with blankets off to the side. “You are in deep, my friend. How long have you been dating, three months? And just ‘hi’ still manages to make you blush? Does she not make more flirtatious comments than just that?”

“Oh, like you were any different when you and Kheya first got together,” Erik retorted.

“Hey, now, that...that is not a fair comparison.”

It was his friend’s turn to blush and Erik laughed at the sight. Mockery aside, though, he genuinely was happy for Nadir; he had been through a rough patch before meeting Rookheeya one year before, his father's death hanging the heaviest over him and stealing so much of the joy that Erik knew was in him. Once he met her though, everything seemed to fall into place; Erik still remembered the moment Nadir practically choked on his drink when he first noticed her from across the room at a small gathering at the Garnier. She was a beautiful young woman who shared his faith, many of his interests and balanced out his almost painfully realistic views with the necessary imagination and optimism that he needed. A match made in heaven, if Erik were to pair a phrase to their relationship.

“Sure it is,” Erik replied, smirking when he caught a glimpse of Nadir’s lock screen as he pulled out his phone: a photo of the happy couple themselves, both smiling wide. “You’ve practically wanted to marry her since the moment you met, you’re lovesick.”

“Okay, I love my girlfriend, so sue me,” Nadir retorted. “And I will have you know that I plan on proposing in the next few days.”

“Well, it’s about time!” Erik said with a laugh, patting him on the back as the pair walked into the kitchen. “Congrats, Nadir, that’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” Nadir chuckled, crouching down to scratch the elderly golden retriever lounging under the kitchen table. “You and Christine have to catch up now.”

“No, no, this is no race. We are taking our time, I refuse to mess this up.”

“You aren’t going to mess it up, Erik.”

“I could. You remember how things ended with Lucy,” Erik said in a soft voice as he leaned over his countertop and scribbled on a notepad.

“That wasn’t your fault,” Nadir sighed. “She was a toxic mess, the end of your relationship was no fault of yours.”

Erik shrugged ever so slightly. “She ran off with some other guy and slept with him when we hadn’t even taken that step. I clearly did something wrong or she wouldn’t have left.” That breakup had hung over him like a dark, heavy cloud for weeks and still did at times. That said, the very same bout of depression and dejection had pushed him into the world of animal rescue that he still found himself in two years later, so for that he was thankful. Now, though, Luciana hardly ever crossed his mind; he had found someone to get him out and keep him out of that world of darkness.

“You didn’t, but anyhow, it doesn’t matter anymore. You have a girl that you love and who loves you, an amazing career, and an animal shelter in your living room. You’re doing alright for yourself,” Nadir pointed out. “Speaking of that, has Christie been over here yet? To meet the pack and all?”

“No, not yet. Believe me, it is on the list of things to do,” Erik replied, still scribbling away on his notepad as they spoke.

“That along with two hydrotherapy sessions, settling the new puppy in, getting groceries, working on your new composition, and going to see if you can pick up two tuxedo kittens. When do you have time to breathe, Erik?”

“In between everything. I manage just fine and I will slot Christine meeting everyone in. It’s a delicate process with some of these guys, you know that.”

Nadir scoffed. “Yes, I remember how slow it all was when you first introduced me,” he said, putting a hand up when his friend opened his mouth. “I know why it was slow, but that doesn't make it more enjoyable.”

“Right, well, unlike you, Christine is very patient, so it’ll be fine,” Erik replied. “She’s coming with me tomorrow to pick up those kittens, so I’ll probably ask her over after and try to introduce me.”

“Let’s hope it goes well. We wouldn't want you to have to choose between your lady friend and your pets. I don't know if you’d survive that.”

"Thank you for helping me today, Christine," Erik said, smiling over at his sweetheart, who sat beside him in the front seat of his car with two tuxedo kittens on her towel-covered lap (she had insisted on the towel, even though his car was covered with fur on practically a daily basis). "These two seem like a very sweet little pair. I doubt I'll have trouble finding them homes."

"Why weren't they getting adopted just at the shelter?" Christine inquired, an inquisitive frown on her face as she turned to him for an answer.

Which he did not really have, so he simply shrugged. "They don't let enough time pass to give people a chance, frankly. Not to mention that this would mean adopting two kittens at once, what with how closely bonded they are, and not everyone is willing to take on that kind of commitment."

"It doesn't seem like too much trouble." Christine looked back down at the kittens, her sweet giggle escaping her as one of them mewed and set its paws on her chest to get closer to her, almost inspecting her. "Hello there. You're not trouble, are you? You're just a sweet little baby."

Erik couldn't help but chuckle when he heard the voice she put on to talk to the animal - a light tone, using grammatically incorrect sentences, almost as if she were speaking to a baby. Which she was, in a sense.

"You'll have to help me name them. I name so many animals that I end up running out of options after a while."

"One of them - the boy, that is - should be...Sylvester. Like from Looney Tunes! He looks just like him, it's too good to pass it up!"

"A very good choice, I think," Erik nodded as he began the drive towards his home. "I'm not sure about the girl yet. Perhaps I'll call her Christine."

His girlfriend scoffed and glanced over at him. "Erik, you can't suggest naming any and every female animal you bring into your house after me."

"Why not? I like your name."

"I know you do, but once you get to Christine the Eighth or whatnot, there's a problem."

He couldn't help but laugh; her sense of humour and mild sarcasm had been part of what had endeared her to him in the first place. "I suppose there might be. I do like your name, though, I wouldn't mind it too much."

"Yes, I know that, and if we ever had a daughter, she would be Christine Junior, I know how much you like my name." She giggled again, and he noticed her look over at him in his periphery; he was just glad that he had his mask on so she wouldn't notice him blushing at the thought of sharing a child with her. "You need some new options."

He tried to shrug nonchalantly. "I...I just think it's a nice name. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman," he said softly.

The comment must have been the right one, as he was rewarded with a quick peck on the cheek. "You're very sweet," Christine replied as she turned back to the kittens and stroked their backs as they cuddled together on the towel. "So once we drop these little ones off, I suppose you'll just take me home? I'm sure you'll have lots to do."

There it was - his opportunity to make the offer to her to finally come over so he could truly introduce her to his life in its entirety rather than trying to hide parts of it. A glance over at her was enough to tell him that she was disappointed at the idea of having to go home, as she so often was, and he hated to upset her, so he would do his best to fix it as best he could at that moment.

"Actually, I was thinking...would you like to come in today?" he asked, looking at her briefly again and smiling a bit when she looked back at him, wide-eyed and shocked at the question. "I'll have to settle these two in, but I would love to-"

"Yes," she replied, cutting him off rather abruptly. "Yes, I would love to. Do I have to do anything? Not do anything? Can I help with anything, wh-what can I do?"

"Just be yourself," Erik said, unable to stop a quiet laugh from escaping him at seeing how enthusiastic she was. "Your sweet, gentle, caring self, my dear. That is all that I can ask of you when it comes to meeting the little pack that I have at home."

"That much I can do," Christine said with a firm nod, clearly very dedicated to her mission. "Thank you, Erik."

He frowned. "What for?"

"For trusting me with this, with meeting them. I know that their health and security means a lot to you, so knowing that you trust me to come in and make myself a new part of that arrangement that you have really means a lot to me."

"Of course I trust you, my darling. I...I love you." The phrase still felt foreign in his mouth after not using it for so long after losing Lucy, but he was making an effort to use it as often as he possibly could with Christine; she meant more to him than anyone ever had before and she deserved to hear that from him.

"I love you too," Christine said with a warm smile on her face. "Come on, then, drive! I have puppies to meet!"

"Are you ready, Christine?" Erik asked from where he stood at the end of the hallway, having just collected a young bulldog puppy from her kennel and was presently walking towards the bedroom, of all places, where his sweetheart was waiting. An unconventional setting, yes, but there was a purpose to it.

"Of course I'm ready!" he heard her call back, her excitement practically dripping from her voice. "There's a puppy involved, how could I not be ready?"

"Alright, alright," he said with a quiet laugh as he stepped into the room, the puppy starting to squirm in his arms at the sight of the new person and the sound of Christine's giddy squeal. "This is Lily."

Christine gasped, a hand to her chest. "Lily, oh, how precious," she said with a giggle. "Can I hold her? Or would you prefer that I didn't?"

"No, you can hold her. She's generally good with people," Erik nodded, sitting next to his girlfriend beside his bed and setting the puppy on her lap. "Just watch her back legs."

"What's wrong with her?" Christine asked softly, looking at the puppy's legs that splayed out behind her rather than tucking beneath her to hold her body up.

"It's called swimmer's syndrome. They can't really say what causes it; some people think it's hereditary, others think it's because their environment as newborns kept them from getting around a lot, even others say it was because of defects before they were born, so I'm not entirely sure," Erik explained. "Still, as bad as it looks, it's treatable, which is why we are here in my room."

Scooping the puppy up again, he stood and walked a few steps away to a sling apparatus set up against the wall and slipped the puppy into it so she hung with her paws just above the ground. "She'll sit in the sling for about 20 minutes every day, and I'll just massage her legs and try to mimic walking motions with her. I do this a few times a day."

He carefully began to act on the same procedure he had just described, smiling as Christine stepped over to join him while he carefully rubbed the puppy's legs and helped her to move them the way she would if she were walking as she should. He knew that there was always a risk that the therapy he tried to do for the animals that were struggling wouldn't work, but he was going to try his best. Very few people had ever tried to help him throughout his life, so he thought he would allow the animals to have that, whether they knew they had it or not.

"How many others do you do this kind of thing for?" Christine softly asked a few minutes into the therapy session.

"A few. Whether it's for little ones like this who have defects of some sort or for older animals who struggle with arthritis and different things like that, therapy does a lot. I do this kind of thing, as well as hydrotherapy, which entails me getting very wet," Erik replied with a chuckle. "But it's worth it when I see the results. True, it doesn't always happen, and they end up turning into hospice cases more than anything, but if I can try and get them back on their feet, as happy and healthy as can be so they can go to a good home, then I'll do what I have to do to make that happen." He turned towards her and smiled just as she cupped his face in her hands and drew him into a gentle kiss, distracting him from his therapy session momentarily. "You are one of the most kind-hearted people I know. You know that, right?"

"You tell me that enough, so I suppose it carries some truth. It's never occurred to me much otherwise, though."

"Well, you had better believe it because it could not be more true," Christine said with a grin.

Erik couldn't help but chuckle as he gave her another quick peck on the lips. "If you are trying to earn yourself brownie points or extra kisses or something, I admire your effort, it just might work out in your favour," he replied, returning his attention to the puppy.

"Fantastic," she giggled, leaning her head on his shoulder and watching while he worked. "Did you have any other plans for the day for us? Dinner, perhaps?"

"Yes, I was hoping you would help me with dinner," Erik nodded, letting the offer hang for a moment before he added, "For the dogs and cats, that is."

"Ah yes, how romantic, exactly what I had in mind," Christine said with a laugh. "Filling food bowls. I can't wait."

Ever since Erik had given her the go-ahead to come over and spend time with himself and his little pack of rescue animals, Christine had taken full advantage of it. Whenever she could manage it, she was at his house, helping him with feeding and bathing all of the little pets in his care, keeping him company while he was cleaning, and even learning how to do hydrotherapy on a few of the dogs that happened to need it. A couple of months had already passed since that day, unbelievably, but she had cherished every second that she had gotten to spend with both Erik and all the animals in his care. She found herself getting close to every single one of them, and she could see how happy it made her sweetheart; Erik smiled even wider than he normally did when she was around, a photo of the two of them with one of his eldest dogs - a golden retriever named Buddy - had become the photo on the lock screen of his phone while others had been printed and framed on his wall. She knew that he had had little joy in his life, but if she could contribute to that happiness along with allowing him to pursue one of his passions, then she would happily support it.

Getting to play with cute puppies and kittens while she was at his house was a nice perk too.

A short while into the arrangement - about a month after Christine herself had been introduced, - she had convinced Erik to let Meg have a gentle introduction of her own to all the animals he cared for. Her roommate had just about lost her mind when she had found out that she had finally gotten to meet all of her boyfriend's pets and hadn't stopped begging her to get Erik's permission for her to meet them until she had finally agreed to give it a shot.

Erik had been hesitant at first, that much was for certain, but she promised him that Meg knew how to keep calm and quiet when she had to be. Eventually, with a slightly skeptical expression on his face, he had agreed to allow her over to meet some of the animals, much to Meg's delight.

As Christine had predicted, the introductions had gone perfectly fine and Meg was quickly scooped up into the little pack Erik seemed to be steadily building. Their visits brought them closer to the animals, to Erik, as well as to Nadir and Rookheya, Erik's best friend and his fiancée. There was something endearing about seeing her sweetheart interacting with someone other than just herself; she knew that he did it for work and all, but watching him so at ease and laughing with his closest friend warmed her heart, even if Nadir didn't seem completely at ease around the animals in the house. For a while, their little group was complete and happy, enjoying every moment they had.

But not every joyful moment could last, unfortunately.

It was the middle of the night when she got the first phone call. Her ringer was quiet, true, but it lulled Christine out of her sleep, though she didn't bother to look at the screen to see who was calling. 'Whatever scam caller it is can just leave a message for me to delete,' she thought to herself as she rolled over onto her side and buried her face in her pillow to attempt to fall back to sleep.

Her phone fell silent for just a moment, but within moments, it had started ringing again.

With a huff, Christine sat up and grabbed her phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen, and saw her boyfriend's name and picture on her screen, which made her frown. It was just past two in the morning, why would he be calling her? Her heart was already racing a bit as she pressed the green 'Answer' button and held her phone to her ear.

"Hello? Erik, what's going on?"

Hiccuping breaths were what she heard first, which only serve to worry her more. "C-Christine, come over," Erik finally managed to say, his voice choked with tears. "Buddy is...something's wrong, please come over."

"Okay, it's okay. I'll be right there and I'll bring Meg with me," she replied, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible despite her own worry about the dog that she'd become so close with. "Have you called Nadir?"

"He's here already. Rookheya too," Erik said, sniffling quietly. "Just please come over, Christine, please."

"Okay, okay, I'm coming. I'll be there as soon as I can. I love you."

Not hearing a response from Erik told her how distracted and worried he was - he always returned her affections, and she wasn't even offended by the lack of reciprocation; she was only worried.

Christine quickly climbed out of bed, deciding not to bother changing out of her pyjamas given how warm it was outside and only grabbing a pair of socks to quickly slip on. Throwing open her bedroom door, she hurried next door to Meg's room, walked inside and over to her bed to shake her gently. "Meg. Meg, get up, come on."

She rolled her eyes when her friend simply moaned sleepily and pulled her covers over her head. "Meg, please get up. Erik just called me, something's wrong, we have to go over there."

That was enough to make Meg's eyes open rather quickly and she moved the blankets to look up at her friend. "What's happening?" she asked.

"I don't know, all I know is that it's Buddy and Erik is crying, so it's bad," Christine replied with a sigh. "Please get up so we can go."

"Okay, I'm up. Go get your shoes on, I'll be down in a sec," Meg said, clambering out of bed and shuffling past her friend to get dressed.

Within minutes, the two of them were in Christine's car driving towards Erik's house, the open roads with that time at night helping their travel immensely. Not knowing what was wrong was driving Christine half-mad, though she was drawing some unfortunate conclusions, considering the animal that was involved. If she was right, it made sense why Erik had sounded so upset; she knew how much he loved that dog.

"Nadir just texted you," Meg said softly, looking at her friend's phone while she couldn't do so herself. "Asking if we're going to be there soon."

"Just tell him that we will be. That I'm driving as fast as I can without risking getting arrested in the process," Christine said, managing a quiet laugh.

She saw her friend nod as she typed away, the clicking of the keys the only sound in the car. A moment later: "He says, 'As long as you hurry. Get here before'..." Meg trailed off at that, making Christine turn to look at her.

"Before what? What did he say?"

"'Before we lose him.'"

Christine's heart seemed to leap into her throat and, without a word, pushed her foot down ever so slightly harder on the gas pedal, just praying they'd arrive in time.

The two young women burst through the house's front door as soon as they arrived, Christine making use of her spare key. She didn't even need to wonder where everyone else would be; she knew that Erik kept that golden retriever by his bedside every night so that he could monitor him. Nothing had ever happened before that had warranted any action, but something had obviously changed that night. Drastically.

Bolting up the stairs with Meg right behind her, she quickly arrived at her boyfriend's room, which was completely dark save for his bedside lamp, and her heart sank when she saw him in the middle of the floor holding Buddy in his arms, Nadir and Rookheya close by.

"Erik, I'm here," she whispered as she moved to sit beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist. "I came as fast as I could, what's happening?"

"I don't know," Erik replied with a sniffle, stroking the dog's fur as he spoke. "They said he had more time. Not much, but more than this, I don't understand."

His words were drowned out by his tears as he leaned forward and buried his face in the retriever's fur, so Christine simply hushed him and rubbed his back. "I know, I'm sorry," she said with a quiet sigh. "You've done so much for him and for all the animals you take care of, Erik, you have to remember that. Whatever happens tonight is not a result of what you've done, you have done everything possible for him."

"Not enough, though. This wouldn't be happening if I had done enough," Erik managed to say through his tears, a sob slipping out of him.

Christine's own throat tightened up hearing the heartbreak spilling over through his words, so she was fortunate that Nadir shuffled over, set a hand on his friend's back and took on the role of the comforter from her; she couldn't trust herself not to cry, so she simply focused on trying to give the elderly dog as much love as she could possibly convey.

"Erik, you know it isn't your fault," Nadir said softly. "He's ill and I know that you've known that for a while now; you always knew he was going to be a hospice case from the beginning. You have to keep that in mind because if you don't, I know that you will blame it on yourself and you can't do that. He's had a wonderful life with you."

"He's right, Erik, you've given him so much," Christine said, finding it in her to dry a few stray tears and contribute to the conversation again. "He's had a beautiful life here with you, he knows that you love him."

Erik's only response was a nod as he lifted his head enough to gently kiss the top of the dog's head. "I love you, Buddy. We all do," he whispered, trying to force a smile as the dog turned his head to glance up at him, and Christine noticed Erik move his hand to rest over the dog's chest, clearly to feel for his heartbeat and wait for when it inevitably ceased. Not knowing exactly what else to say, she simply set her hand over her sweetheart's resting her head on his shoulder as everyone simply waited for the inevitable.

It didn't take long, in the end, and Erik didn't say a word; the way he muffled a sob and leaned over the dog to hold him to his chest told everyone what they needed to know. Christine hadn't quite expected to get as emotional as she did. She knew that she was attached to all of Erik's animals and that even the thought of her love in pain made her heart ache, but there had been something different this time. Erik had loved Buddy probably more than any of his other rescues, and she had a strong feeling that that love had been mutual.

It turned out that she wasn't the only one getting emotional; she had expected to see a few tears from Meg, and there they were, but looking over at Erik's other friends, she found Rookheya with her face tucked in the crook of Nadir's neck, the slight shake of her shoulders the only clue that she was emotional, while even Nadir - Nadir 'I don't like pets much' Khan - had tears in his eyes. Whether it was Buddy's death or Erik's reaction that had made him cry, she couldn't tell, but the show of empathy for what his friend was going through was something that she appreciated and knew that Erik would too.

Quickly drying her cheeks, she leaned over and gently kissed Erik's cheek. "I'm so sorry," she whispered as she reached up and gently wiped his tears away. "But you gave him such a beautiful life, just like you're doing for all the others you're caring for. They needed someone and you were there to rescue them. I'm so proud of you for that, and Buddy was proud too."

Erik managed a weak smile as he turned to look at her, leaning forward just enough to press his forehead to hers. "Do you think so?" he croaked.

"I know so, my darling. I have no doubt of it."

#my writing #i dont even know how this idea came to me #but it did #i apologize for the bit of angst #but i hope you enjoy it regardless!#e/c #erik x christine #erik/christine #poto #phantom of the opera #kerik #susan kay phantom #nadir khan #meg giry #christine daae #erik

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years

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Our Little Secret: Part Two - A.R.

Word count: 2880 Summary: Lenora introduces y/n and Arvin and something seems to spark between the two of them.

Arvin's POV

I got home from work at 4 which was early for working in the mines.

"Afternoon, Earskell." I nodded my head as I walked up the stairs to the porch of the house where Uncle Earskell sat on a rocking chair.

"Afternoon, boy." He nodded to me.

I walked inside and took my jacket and cap off, sitting them on the side table by the door.

"Grandma?" I called through the house.

"Kitchen!" She replied.

I walked through the house and into the kitchen where Grandma was cooking.

"Hey," I kissed her on the cheek.

"You're back early," She smiled.

"Yeah, we got off for the weekend." I said, sitting down at the table.

"That's great. You need your sleep." She stroked my hair.

I smiled weakly, "I know."

Grandma went back to cooking and I looked around with my brows furrowed.

"Where's Lenora?" I asked curiously.

Grandma sighed, "She said she'd be studying after school so I guess she's just caught up. She knows to come home by 5."

I clenched my jaw. I was very protective of Lenora. Probably too protective. I hated the fact that she wasn't home straight after school. She could be getting harassed by those god darn bullies again. The boys in that popular group of school always torment her. She does nothing wrong, Lenora is the kindest and sweetest girl out there, she wouldn't hurt a fly, but that's what those assholes like.

"She should be home straight after school, Grandma." I shook my head.

"She's nearly 18, Arvin, you have to let her become her own woman without you shadowing her."

"She's hardly a woman, Grandma. She's gettin' bullied senseless by those popular boys." I scowled.

The popular group in school never liked people like Lenora who were smart and kind and timid, that's why they prey on her. They never liked me much but after a handful of fist fights, they got the memo to stop. Anyway, I was out of school so it didn't matter.

We heard the front door open and I snapped my head around. Lenora had come in with a huge smile on her face, looking almost flushed with glee as she skipped through the house.

I stood up, "Where the hell have you been?" I asked sternly, looking down at her.

"Woah, Arv, what's wrong?" She asked, her brows furrowed.

"Did those boys hurt you? I'll kill them-"

"No! They didn't!" She smiled, holding my shoulders.

"Then where were you?"

"I met a girl who's new to town and we got to talkin'! Oh she's lovely, we're already close!" She beamed, sitting next to me at the table.

I squinted and joined her, "Who is she?"

"Her name is y/n. She's from New York, can you believe it?! And she lives up-state with her mother - who is from Ohio originally - and her father."

"She lives up-state? And she's friends with you?" I asked, raising a brow.

"Yes, Arvin. She's so nice. You'd expect her to be really mean because she's in the popular group but-"

"Nuh-uh. No way. You are not hanging out with a girl from that group." I pointed at her.

Grandma called uncle Earskell inside and sat our dinner in front of us.

"Why? She's not like the rest of them, Arv. She's really nice and we'll be hanging out a lot more so expect to see her around." She smiled.

I shook my head, "They'll be playing with you, Lenora."

"No they're not! She told me she doesn't even like them! She's just in the group because she was new and everyone was goin' crazy over the fact she was rich and from New York." She took a bite of her food.

"She don't sound like good news to me." I shook my head.

"Arvin, Lenora can be friends with whoever she wants. You should invite her over for dinner." Grandma smiled.

"Oh she'd love that!"

I rolled my eyes and continued eating, a scowl on my face.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was Wednesday and I was waiting outside of the high school to pick Lenora up. She didn't mention going to see her mother's grave but just in case, I came along. I waited outside, lighting a cigarette as I watched some students flee the grounds before the bell. My elbow rested outside the window, breathing in the smoke then blowing it out and breathing in fresh air.

The bell rang and not even a minute later kids were flowing out the doors. I watched them, trying to spot Lenora and any of the assholes that would follow.

I turned the radio up and kept watch, she was usually one of the first out. I was getting angsty. Where is she?

I nearly got out the car to search for her but I saw her arm in arm with a girl in a cheerleading uniform.

The cheerleader was beautiful. She had her hair tied up in a ponytail by a yellow ribbon and her skin was glowing. The cheerleading uniform was a yellow and blue cropped top, showing her midriff, and a white pleated skirt with white frilly socks and soft shoes. They were walking out together, laughing and Lenora looked really happy. I smiled briefly but I remembered...

That's the popular girl.

"Arvin!" Lenora exclaimed, waving at me.

They jogged over together, looking at me through the car window. The cheerleader seemed shy.

"This is y/n, remember I told you about her?"

I moved my eyes over to her, scanning her body from her shoes to her eyes. She blushed and gulped, looking away.

"Vaguely." I commented, blowing smoke out of my mouth.

"Well, Grandma said it was okay for her to come over for dinner so could you take us back home?" Lenora asked.

I licked my back teeth, looking at Lenora's hopeful face to y/n's awkward one.

I sighed, "Fine."

They squealed with joy and they got in the car; Lenora next to me and y/n in the backseat.

I drove off and we sat in silence, letting the music play through the radio into the car.

"So, y/n, you're here from New York?" I asked, throwing the cigarette butt out the window.

She nodded, "Yeah."

"You live up-state?"

She nodded again, "Yeah."

I looked at her through the rear-view mirror.

"You don't speak much do you?" I asked.

"Depends on who I'm talking to." She retorted.

I bit my tongue and held back a smile. She definitely wasn't the shy girl she seemed to be.

"You're accent is southern, how do you get that from living in the big city?"

"My mother is from Ohio. Not Coal Creek but she lived here her whole childhood so I just inherited her accent." She spoke but didn't look at me.

"But your daddy's from New York?"

"Yeah."

"I'm guessing you were the popular girl back in the city, huh?" I asked, looking at her through the rear view mirror.

She licked her teeth, turning her head and looking back at me.

"Yeah but I don't like it. It just happens." She shrugged.

I nodded slowly, thinking of my next question. I was just trying to catch her out. I needed her to say something nasty so I could tell Lenora never to talk to her again.

"Where about up-state are you?" I finally asked.

"Fernpark House." She said.

"Fernpark House?" I repeated, turning around to look at her in shock.

I didn't realise she was that rich.

"Arvin!" Lenora whisper-shouted at me.

I turned back around and didn't ask any more questions.

Fucking Fernpark House. The biggest house in the whole village, maybe even the whole fucking state.

I drove the girls back to the house and they leapt out the car as soon as I came to a stop.

"Careful, Lenora!" I shouted after her as she and y/n jumped up the stairs.

I shook my head and sighed, turning the car off and getting out. I walked up the stairs and nodded to Uncle Earskell again.

"Hey boy, who's that girl?" Earskell asked.

I sighed, leaning against the wooden pillar at the top of the porch stairs and bringing another cigarette out. I cupped my hand over it and lit the end, inhaling then exhaling.

"Lenora's new friend, y/n."

"y/n? That don't sound like an Ohio name."

"She's new from New York. Popular, rich, city girl. Livin' up state in Fernpark house."

"Fernpark? Damn boy, she's doin' good for herself." He chuckled.

"Yeah well, somethin's off about her. No popular kid's ever wanted to hang out with Lenora. I bet it's a set up." I shook my head, taking another breath of tobacco.

Uncle Earskell shook his head, "Just cause she a cheerleader don't mean nothin'. You gotta stop being so darn protective over Lenora."

"How can I stop when those jocks are after her?" I raised my voice.

I sighed, "Sorry, it's just frustrating I can't do nothin' about it. Now one of them is in our house?"

"That's an innocent girl, Arvin. Not a 6 feet tall hooligan wantin' to harass a young girl. Let it go."

I dropped the cigarette and squashed it with my foot, "Easier said than done."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

We sat down for dinner at the usual time. I sat next to Uncle Earskell while Lenora and y/n sat opposite. They had a whisper fight about who would sit where and I couldn't tell if she didn't want to sit across from me or Earskell but she sat in front of me. I lifted my glass to my lips, watching her over the crystal as she sat down.

She was beautiful and looked innocent. Her skin looked soft and glowing and the smile she seemed to constantly wear was almost infectious...and I'm not a smiler.

Grandma served us food and she sat at the head of the table, next to Uncle Earskell and Lenora.

"Let's pray." She smiled before everyone dipped their head.

"Heavenly father..."

I looked up from my lap like I usually did. I wasn't religious or a prayer so I usually just stared into space. But this time, I had somethin' to look at. I looked up and y/n was sitting opposite me, eyes clearly open but kept lowered to be respectful. I watched her with my head still tilted down, looking at the way her mouth twitched side to side with awkwardness. She must have felt my gaze on her because she looked up and we caught eyes. A small smile lifted my lips and she flashed a genuine smile at me. It was our little secret.

"The power and the glory forever, amen."

We all lifted our heads and dug into the food. Grandma spoke to y/n most of the time and she gleefully complied, chatting away. Grandma clearly already loved her. I seemed to be the only one wary of her antics.

It hit 9 o'clock and I was sitting in the living room listening to the radio, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I heard Lenora's door open and she came out with y/n who still had her uniform on and carried her backpack on one shoulder.

"Thank you so much Mrs Russel for havin' me." She smiled to Grandma as she got up to say goodbye.

"Oh please, call me Emma, and it was no trouble at all, darlin'." Grandma rubbed y/n's back.

"Are your parents outside?" Lenora asked.

"Oh no, they're not collectin' me I'll just be walkin' home." She smiled.

"Nonsense, you are not walkin' alone at this time of night with that outfit on." Grandma said.

I kept my back to everyone, prayin' Grandma didn't call on me.

"Arvin,"

I clenched my eyes shut in annoyance, knowing what she was about to ask.

"Why don't you take y/n home?"

"Oh no please, I don't wanna be no trouble-" y/n began to protest, probably knowing how much I didn't want to.

"No, come on Arvin. He'll take you no problem." Grandma smiled at me.

I sat my glass down and rubbed the cigarette out on the ash tray.

"No problem at all." I said, standing up.

"Great...thank you." She smiled.

While y/n said goodbye to everyone I grabbed my cap and jacket with my keys inside. I opened the door for her and she quietly thanked me on the way out. Lenora stood by the door and waited on us. We got into the car and it was already awkward. I turned the car on and we buckled in, waving to Lenora as I reversed out and drove away.

I turned the radio up once we got on the straight road.

"Pretty woman, walking down the street,"

I heard y/n's soft hum as she listened to the radio. I looked over at her. She had her elbow outside the car and rested her head on her hand, letting the wind fawn over her face. Some of her hairs became loose but she didn't mind. She looked gorgeous.

"Pretty woman, the kind I like to meet,"

"Do you know where you're goin'?" She asked softly, still not looking at me.

"Yeah I know the way." I said.

"No one could look as good as you."

"You like the radio?" I asked, coughing awkwardly.

She nodded with a smile, "I love music."

I smiled slightly, "Me too."

"What's your favourite song?" She asked, turning her head to look at me.

I shrugged, "Don't have one. I just listen to whatever's on the radio."

She moved more so she would be facing me.

"You don't have a favourite song?" She asked, a smile spread across her face.

"No." I smiled briefly at her then focused on the road again.

She paused for a second, looking at me.

"Hmm." She hummed, sitting normally in the seat again.

"Pretty woman, won't you pardon me,"

"Well, this is one of my favourite songs." She said.

I looked over to her, "Yeah? Why?"

"He talks about her nicely." She smiled.

I scoffed, "That's what makes you like a song? If a man talks of a woman nicely?"

"Well yes, it's important that a man talks about a woman nicely. Or else he's just a sick bastard on the highway to hell." She commented.

I scoffed a laugh which turned into a chuckle. She laughed too. Again with that somewhat dark humour you wouldn't expect a girl like her to have.

I turned up on Fernpark drive and kept driving through the wooded area. The road was real smooth, unlike everywhere else in this town. That's when you knew you were well off.

"You can just drop me here-"

"No need, I'll drop you outside your house."

"But my ma and daddy might see you and think-"

She stopped mid-way through her sentence.

I looked over to her. Her mouth was open, not saying anything like she had frozen in time.

"Your ma and daddy might see me and think what?" I prompted.

She was gonna say somethin' about my tatted clothes and my rusty car. Somethin snobby. I had her, finally.

"They might think we've been...you know..." She fiddled with her fingers.

I held back a smirk cause' I knew what she was implying. I just wanted to hear her say it.

"What?" I finally stopped the car outside her house.

"They might think we've been doin' somethin'."

I chuckled lowly, "You're gonna have to be more specific, darlin'."

She gulped and her cheeks flushed pink, "Submarine racin'!" She whispered, grabbing her bag from the floor of the car.

I raised my brows, "Submarine racin'? I doubt it. A pretty, rich girl like you wouldn't date no worker like me that's for sure, never mind submarine racin'."

She tilted her head, "I will date anyone I want to, Arvin. Even some worker like you. As long as a man treats a woman right, then that's all you can ask for ain't it?"

I smiled and nodded, "I guess so."

"But so we're clear; I wouldn't date you because you're Lenora's brother." She said proudly.

"But you find me attractive?" I smirked, licking my lips.

She stuttered, "No. I don't find you attractive, Arvin. And I would never date you, so don't try and put words in my mouth."

I held my hands up, "I wasn't gonna."

"Good."

We sat silently, both thinking about what it would be like to date or even submarine race...

"y/n?! Is that you?!" A woman in a white silk robe shouted by the door.

"Shit. I gotta go, thank you Arvin!" She called, jumping out the car and shutting the door.

She hurried up to her mother at the blue front door and I could hear the distant questions being asked.

"Who is that?" "Lenora's brother?" "He drove you home?" "He polite? He nice?" "Fine."

Her mother waved and I waved back before driving out of the grounds and down the private road until I hit pot-hole city on the ground again.

I kept driving back home, noddin' my head to the music.

"Pretty woman, walkin' down the street..." I sang to myself the whole way home.

Submarine Racing: "Watching the submarine races" is a euphamism for making out (and more) in a car.

{Tags: @notanordinaryprincess95}

#arvin russel #arvin russell xy/n #arvin russel fluff #arvin russel smut #arvin russel angst #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel mini series #series #mini series #tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #arvin russell #tom holland fic #one shot #imagine #arvin russel imagine

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nafeary · 4 years

Text

Napoleon, Theodorus, and le Comte’s Reaction to MC saying “I love you” first

Anon asked:

Hey there! I really like all the stuff on your blog, so could you do the suitors reactions to you saying I love you for the first time (like, if the route plots didn’t really happen). If all of them are too much, maybe just Napoleon, Theo and Comte. Maybe also include a little scenario? Thanks in advance.

✧✎ A/N: Heya, sweetest anon! Thank you so much for this request (and for including three of the daddy line), this was really fun to do~

Theo’s got... slightly longer than the others (almost a whole scenario by itself whoops). Don’t worry Napoleon. I have a WIP of yours. Thanks @juminly and @delicateikemenmemes for helping me out with Theo, and @marie-quentin for giving me a quick crash course in French. Drink water, y’all :))))

Warnings: slight suggestiveness, and implied sexual activities.

Napoleon Bonaparte

Pardon? Could you run that by him again?

It had been a morning like any other, welcoming the culprit who’d come to wake him up with his wonted kisses

However, this time around, he hadn’t met an interfering hand—which was by far his favored option. The other ones entailed pillows, fists, and even a certain someone’s foil

So when he met lips, molding together with his like a familiar imprint, he immediately shook off his fatigue, surprised to see his lover before him

His astonishment didn’t stem from the kiss itself (as you’ve done way more than just that), but you’ve never indulged in his habit before

Not only that, but it felt so much more...

Intimate. Passionate. Amorous...

Romantic. Purely romantic.

Your hands rose to his cheeks, cupping them in an ever so gentle embrace. Feeling almost weightless within your gentle expression, he sighed in the intimate comfort only one’s other half could provide.

“‘Leon?” The most idyllic melody made his eyes open, blinking a few times to adjust to the sun’s flaxen rays. He had to halt a few moments, for as his eyes managed to adjust, the golden glow hugging your form truly made you appear out of this world.

“Yes, nunuche?” Your loving and tender gaze almost made him melt, and it was a miracle that his question sounded as nonchalant as he was hoping for it to be.

“I love you.”

Napoleon couldn’t help the pounding of his heart. In all his years, no one had ever managed to make him feel so precious. Of course, he’s had his previous lovers, but as you stood before him like an angel of fortune, holding his head up in a pretense of it being the most wondrous diamond...

He couldn’t help the laughter spilling from his lips. At your affronted expression, he pulled you to his side, your cheek squished against his neck. Closing your eyes against his laughter’s shock waves—tens on the Richter scale—you couldn’t prevent the pout from conquering face.

Napoleon halted his laughter, although not completely, and his arms cocooned your midriff to lean in. Your toes curled as his lips brushed your ear.

“Je t’adore, nunuche.”

Theodorus Van Gogh

You might have to bring him to Isaac or Leonardo to fix, because you’ve completely broken this guy

He always expected to say it first, so he’s kinda mad??? But also really touched??? Fix him, please

It was no secret that Theodorus Van Gogh considered himself to be very domineering

Not because he wants the other person to feel save and protected... it was simply due to convenience pssst don’t tell him

Of course, he found it more than endearing when his girlfriend took the leash from time to time, and he genuinely enjoys her initiations of affection

Everyday, it took Theo all the self control he could muster up not to break into a smile at the sight of you, not to pick you up and whirl you around, not to throw you over his shoulder to carry you to his room...

Anyway, if you were to tell him the famous three words first, he’d be pure molasses in your hands

“Do you need more syrup, Theo?”

While the amount of liquid gold suggested the attendance of the entire mansion, it was only himself and his lover at breakfast. You had risen later than usual (due to certain nightly activities), and Sebastian was so kind as to allow you a day off.

“We’ll see,” he murmured, nevertheless thanking you when you brought him more with a disbelieving snort.

As you ate breakfast in the kitchen, not wanting to bother yourselves with setting everything up in the dining hall, he did not let your “inconspicuous” array of glances go unnoticed. Whenever he caught your eyes, you’d quickly avert your own, a faint blush dusting your skin. Perplexity marred his mind at your bashful actions.

Just when you stood up to do the dishes, he grabbed your arm, turning you around to trap you successfully underneath his form. Bewildered, you squirmed in his grasp, but that only made him pin your wrists in place. While this might not be your first time in this particular position, you could still only huff at his stern expression. “What did I do now? Do you always have to—“

“Quit your yapping, Hondje. Is there something on my face, or why do you keep on staring at me?” he spoke, as blunt and stoic as ever.

You chastised yourself— should have been aware that nothing could escape his detail-oriented eyes. Nonetheless, there was something... disparate about this morning: the hushed words of devotion, the warmth of nonchalant pecks—dare you say, it was almost domestic. It caused feelings of joy and felicity to ignite in your chest, and a certain sentence to cross your mind.

“...I love you, Theo.”

It was apparent that he’d been caught off-guard, a hand flying up to cover a short fit of coughing. And as his grip on you faltered, you flung your arms around his neck, urged by both embarrassment and closure.

“Y—you. Gadver...”

“Have I rendered the great Theodorus Van Gogh speechless?” You couldn’t help the teasing remark; eager to see his flushed expression, you peeled yourself out of the embrace. However, just as swift as he had faltered, his iron grip on you toughened once again, this time around closing the proximity to an intimate distance.

“Have you finally lost what little sense you had before?” His tone’s giddiness betrayed the harshness of his words, despite his best attempts to suppress that. As you tried to focus on anything apart from his breath caressing your neck, you espied the brilliant blush raging on his cheeks.

Deciding not to comment on his obvious joy, you pressed a kiss to his collarbone. “Don’t you have to punish me, then? I wouldn’t want to steal your thunder.”

When you pulled back to look at you love, you were met with his wild cerulean orbs. You’ve heard of people comparing them to ice, but you likened them to the tropic’s water; it might look trifling at most, but once you dive in, it would tell tales of colourful facets. Just like a big misunderstanding, crying out to be revealed.

You couldn’t care less that you were in the kitchen, that anyone could walk in on you, as he pulled you closer to himself, your legs finding their way around his waist.

Comte de Saint-Germain

He’d definitely be shocked at first, widening his eyes at your forthcoming admittance

After all, these three words might seem minuscule to a lot, but they held enough power to truly cement a relationship

Whenever he looked at his chérie, he felt the need to tell them to you 24/7, but he reconsidered that it was only right to give you more time to grow accustomed to him (and his period)

After a few months of living together, and a solitary trip back to the past (which proved itself vain as his offer was declined once again), he resolved to tell her these fateful words

He heard his amour before he saw her, the sound of your steps hurrying down the staircase growing more and more pronounced. Ere he was able to turn around to greet you, you practically pounched onto him, fingers clasping by his waist as you embraced him from behind. You squeezed his middle section gently in an effort to breathe in his scent.

Shock subsiding, he enbosomed your hands with his own, having missed your warmth—your devotion—as it crowned him with more than the sun could ever wish to.

“I have something—“

“—to tell you.”

Both of you spoke up at the same time, prompting you to smile in delight. Hearing composed, albeit joyful, laughter spilling from your lover’s lips, followed by the incessant remark of ladies-first, you uttered the words you have been longing to say, “I love you.”

The gentle rising of his torso came to a sudden halt, and he twisted around to face you. He might not have been gone for too long, but you’d missed each other regardless.

You knew the feeling was mutual as his golden eyes burned with desire, his walls coming down bit by bit, exposing a rare sight of the count’s vulnerability. With his hands inching just above your lower hip, the not so innocent innuendo of their barely proper distance to your butt was duly noted.

“I’ve been hoping to tell you these words myself, ma moitié.” His mouth traced the shell of your ear, and you felt him smile against your skin—as gentle as flower petals, yet just as seductive. “Perhaps we could arrange my reciprocation in private?”

Tag list: @juminly, @kisara-16 (I totally forgot that you asked me to be tagged quite a while ago... I’m sorry (*´Д｀*))

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thefancyspin · 3 years

Note

#2 and #17 for Ballum

[bed sharing + sex then love. sort of, there's no sex and they're on their way to love haha]

There has to be a joke here, somewhere. There has to be some very funny and avoidable reason why Ben not only had to join Callum on this trip but has also been put in a motel room with him where there’s only one bed.

It’s a set up. A butcher or baker or candlestick maker is going to walk through the door any minute, he’s sure.

“I’ll just take the couch,” Callum mumbles, throwing his bag on the floor and collapsing into the sofa cushions. It’s already late, and they’re surviving on roadside food and caffeine, and this day is just the worst. Ben’s had enough.

“You’re seven foot twenty two, you can’t sleep on the couch.”

“Alright, you take it,” he says with an arm thrown over his eyes, but he doesn’t move.

Ben’s too tired to argue. He storms off to the bathroom to have a shower, hoping he can wash off the smell, and the grime, and the tension. Ben’s been in a lot of awkward spots in his life, but being stuck in a car for a whole day with a man you had a one night stand with. That’s new.

It might not be so bad if it was just a fun night, and they’d amicably moved on.

Except no. Ben had to go and sleep with the only gay man in Walford that wasn’t out of the closet, and Callum had to go and get engaged to his girlfriend to try and prove something to himself.

“Shower’s free,” he says when he emerges in a cloud of steam, just a towel wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t miss the way Callum looks over, then quickly looks away - a blush creeping up his neck. How’s being straight working out for you, Ben thinks bitterly, but he gets no joy from it.

That’s the problem with Callum Highway. He cheats on his girlfriend, and lives a life of lies, and yet … and yet he’s the most decent bloke Ben’s ever met. He’s funny, and kind, and gorgeous, and … Ben can’t stop thinking about their one night together.

He can’t get over the bastard.

“We can share the bed,” Ben says later when they’re both fully dressed and Callum looks a little less like he wants to curl up and disappear.

“Ben.”

“I don’t mean for funny business, geez. I just mean, it’s big enough.”

“I’m fine,” Callum grumbles, pulling a blanket down from the cupboard and stomping back to the couch to lie down. Ben just rolls his eyes, switching the lamp off to bathe the room in darkness.

It makes him think of that night they shared. Darkness, quiet, just the heavy presence of each other. It had been a few weeks now, but the memories were vivid. Callum’s desperation, his eagerness, the sound he made when Ben fell to his knees in front of him.

It had been so heady, so electric. Ben had been with his fair share of men, and one night stands, but he hadn’t felt anything like that for a long time. Callum was different.

“Would you just get up here?” Ben gripes in the middle of the night, sick of hearing Callum grunt and moan every time he tried to roll over.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, just get in the bed. I’m not gonna touch ya.”

There’s silence for a moment, or two, until Ben finally hears Callum’s sigh of defeat and the sound of him padding across the room. The bed dips when he gets in, and Ben lets the smell and the closeness and the fantasy wash over him for just a moment. What it might have been like, if Ben weren’t so unlucky in love.

Then he’s sleeping.

“Ben.”

The sound of Callum’s quiet voice wakes him, but when Ben opens his eyes, it’s still dark outside. He grumbles and turns over, only able to make out the blueish black haze of Callum’s outline. “What?”

“Just seeing if you was awake.”

“I am now.”

“Sorry.”

“S’alright. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Callum says, but Ben knows it’s a lie. He’s probably gotten accustomed to those now, every time he sees Callum put an arm around Whitney, every time he hears Callum tell her he loves her. Sure he does, yeah, but not the way she wants him to. “Had a bad dream.”

“You alright?”

“I donno. Just needed … wanted to make sure I wasn’t alone, I guess. It’s daft.”

“It ain’t,” Ben tells him honestly, bringing a hand up to scrub at his dry, tired face. It’s not too cold a night, really, considering the pathetic excuse for heating this motel has. Maybe it’s just the closeness of Callum, keeping him warm. “I know what you mean, I’ve been there.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure, after my ex died especially. I’d dream about it and then wake up alone. It weren’t easy.”

“No.” Callum pauses. “I’m really sorry that happened to you.”

Ben can’t help but smile. There he goes again being genuine, and kind. “Thanks. What about you? Dreams about combat?”

“No, uh … not really.”

“You get those though?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Callum tells him, moving to lie on his back. “Had to do a bit of counselling for those but, y’know. I'm not sure anything makes ‘em go away.”

“Just takes time. You’ll get there.”

Ben can see Callum’s face turn towards him. “You think?”

“I mean, I’m not a veteran, so I don’t wanna speak out of turn. But I’ve seen a lot, been through a lot.”

“You don’t have to be a soldier to have trauma.”

“Yeah.”

Ben lies down again, too, feeling their shoulders and legs brush and moving over a little to give Callum space. It’s funny how often they settle into these moments of comfort, even when the rest of their relationship is so tense.

They could argue in Coker’s one morning about Ben’s inappropriate flirting, and then be sitting at the bar in the Vic that afternoon just sharing a secret smile.

It can be so easy.

“You ever think about that night?” Ben asks, honestly expecting Callum to get upset with him, insist on going back to the couch. Callum doesn’t. He says,

“All the time,” quietly, into the night.

Somehow, at some point, their hands end up tangled together as they sleep.

When they get back to Walford it’s late afternoon, some sun still left in the sky. Ben helps Callum unpack the car, bringing boxes in to where Jay’s sitting at his desk.

“Go alright, then?”

“Yeah, fine,” Callum tells him, giving Ben a significant look.

“Courier extraordinaires,” Ben says, going to perch on the side of Jay’s desk as Callum deals with the rest of the stuff. He stays there and annoys Jay for another five minutes, trying to make plans for a beer later, or dinner, but eventually he realises he has to let it go.

The day’s over. The trip’s done.

“I’m off,” he tells Callum as he’s leaving, a stupid little wave like they didn’t share a moment, like things aren’t a hundred times more charged between them now then they ever were

“Oh, right, uh,” Callum says, looking at the box he’s holding and then looking up the stairs. “You wanna come up for a minute, I just have to …”

“Uh, sure.”

Ben follows him up, Callum shouldering through the door that’s already been opened and dumping his things on the table. When he turns he wipes his hands on his thighs, nervous, and says,

“Thank you, for … for last night.”

“What’d I do?”

“You just … you kept me calm. You didn’t … I donno. It just meant a lot to me that you were there. As a friend.”

“A friend, right,” Ben says with a little huff, moving to turn and leave. “Well, you’re welcome, I mean. You can always talk to me if you want.”

“Wait,” Callum reaches for him, grasping at Ben’s forearm to keep him close. “I just … you made me think of that night, when you said I see you. Cause … cause that’s how it is with you. I feel so seen, so known. And it scares me Ben.”

“I know.”

“I mean … I don’t even tell Whit about my dreams. Or about … nothing. When I’m with you it’s like all the pieces are coming together.”

Ben doesn’t know if he’s taking a lead that isn’t being offered, but he lunges at Callum anyway, a hand on his collar and his face as he kisses him again. Again and again and finally.

It’s just as desperate as it was that night, all friction and fraught. Callum ends up against table and Ben pushes in between his legs as close as he can get and it’s messy, it’s stupid, someone could walk in any minute.

“Wait, wait,” Callum gasps, pawing at Ben’s chest to keep a little distance. “I can’t do things like this I have to … I need to talk to Whit.”

Ben blinks up at him, hardly able to believe what he's hearing. “You’re gonna … you want to make a go of this?”

“Course I do, I mean, do you?”

“Yes, yeah, absolutely, I want that.”

“Okay," Callum grins. "So.”

“Okay. So." Ben teases, and then he's pressing his mouth against Callum's again before peeling himself away. He's never felt so bereft. "You’ll call me later, yeah?”

“I’ll call you soon,” Callum promises, and Ben knows it's the truth, and he also knows it won't be soon enough.

Before, he was missing something that was never his.

Now he can dream of what it might become.

#ben x callum #ballum #eastenders #fanfiction #my writing #fic prompts

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thebrochtuarachs · 3 years

Text

Arranged: Chapter 6

Modern AU. Set in present time. Where Claire and Jamie are arranged to be married.

CH: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

AO3

A/N: Hello, everyone! I'd like to start with an apology for not updating for so so long. This story is still very dear to me, I daydream a lot of the next chapters, it's in my head and in my drafts and I just didn't realize that has been quite a while since I posted a chapter. Time flew by so quickly in the pandemic, I hadn't seen it pass. Anyway, posting this short and sweet update. Hope you like it! As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome :) Hope that you are keeping safe and healthy! Till the next!

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The Ring of the Woman of Balnain – or that’s what they call the ring for generations since the 18th century.

For Jamie, it was simply his 8-times great-grandmother’s ring – a small circlet passed down his family for generations. His siblings never cared for the old thing but Jamie loved it ever since he was a wee lad and asked his parents to give it to him when he was old enough – and that time was, apparently, now.

After his mother ambushed him in the kitchen, Jamie was now in possession of one the most precious things in his life. He promised himself that he would give it to the woman he’ll marry someday as a gift and sign of his love and he hoped that the ring would bring luck in their relationship.

When he realized that Claire Beauchamp was the one, he thought about asking for the ring but then he found out about Frank Randall and had to re-evaluate his chances and options. All of his plans for him and Claire got put on hold until their parents intervened with this crazy scheme. But this crazy scheme, allow him to at least, put some plans in place.

A week later, his mother found the ring box on his bed side table, untouched and unopened.

“Give it to her. I want you to give it to Claire. It’s perfect” she heard Ellen say to Jamie who just groaned in disapproval.

“Mam, I thought we were going to do this in our own time, our own terms. Giving her this does not make all of this any easier.” Jamie replied.

“I know, son. But this has a special meaning to our family, ye ken that. Even if this arrangement is so, I would – no, we would, yer father and I – would love it if ye kept with the tradition.”

Then came one of Jamie’s exasperated sighs. “I’m no promising anything, Mam. I’ll think about it but don’t expect anything”

He and Claire hadn’t really discussed the nature of their relationship one month in since getting reacquainted. But the truth was, with all the time they’ve been spending together ( almost everyday ), they’ve gotten really close that even the people close to them have started noticing up to a point where they asked if there was something going on between them.

Of course, they denied it – not wanting anyone to know about what really was going on – saying they were just friends and reasoned the mere fact that their families were close and that was the way it’s always been for them. A damn, unreliable lie but it’s all they got.

Their research was not progressing in any form which was starting to frustrate Claire. Everything they were getting from “company sources'' just didn’t make sense in any scenario or plan. Money was not an issue, their family relations were not an issue, their business relations were not an issue… they were running out of “reasons” and “clues” but Claire refused to give up. Of course, Jamie knew otherwise but silently played along.

Thankfully, their final exams were coming and Jamie decided to put pause on everything and have a break from their research and each other - their schedule not permitting any free time. They haven’t seen each other in a week.

Today, Jamie had been in the coffee shop for hours since almost all of his classes got cancelled when his building suddenly needed to be fumigated.

“This seat taken?” the voice was unfamiliar and Jamie looked up to find Laoghaire Mackenzie looming over his table. He knew about her and her fondness of him, she was never to shy to show it anyway, but he’d never taken a liking to the lass. She wasn’t his type and he didn’t like her personality at all. Despite numerous turndowns, she was still persistent.

Sensing his refusal, she made another attempt. “The table sits four and yer the only one.” She moved the chair in front of him causing the bag to fall over and all of its contents sprawled over the floor.

“I’m sorry. Here” she said, giving some of his things as he stood to pick it up. “Well?” she asked again, waiting for his invitation. Jamie was a gentleman and seems there was no reason to give the lass a boot or the seat. He was about to reluctantly agree when another voice chimed in.

“Actually, the seat is taken.” Claire’s voice was a happy sound in Jamie’s ear. Laoghaire turned to see whose voice was cockblocking her to Jamie and frowned. Laoghaire and Claire have never had a conversation before past pleasantries and despite that, they seem to have grown a dislike to each other, an unspoken disapproval of each person’s position in Jamie’s life. Too bad for Laoghaire, Claire knew she had the upper advantage and would gladly take that road anytime around her.

Claire wore her smug face proudly as Laoghaire huffed and shoved her way past her. Jamie, to his credit, didn’t say anything but rather he smiled at her in such a way that made Claire’s heart sing and she knew it came from a place of utmost gratitude.

Claire took her seat and Jamie started fixing his bag. Upon inspection, he realized he was missing something. Alarmed, Jamie quickly put out its contents again but still, it was not there.

He stood up and looked around the floor, pacing himself around the perimeter of his area. At one point, he even kneeled and bowed down just to look under chairs.

It was still not there.

Jamie stood up, flushed and a paleness was creeping in his face. He has lost it. How could he have lost it? Did Laoghaire take it with her? How would he tell his Mam that he lost a 300-year old family ring? Questions were pouring out his mind and he felt utter despair in the situation.

He wasn’t even supposed to bring it. It was a last minute decision to have it checked and cleaned.

“Looking for this?” Claire lifted the black leather box.

Jamie turned his head so fast, Claire thought he’d trip with his own momentum. But seeing the relief on his face warmed her heart.

“Thank ye!” he sat and moved to get the box but Claire pulled it away. “What’re..?”

“What is this?” she asked genuinely. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Tis’ nothing, Claire” he said, attempting to grab it from her again but was unsuccessful. She gave him a look and he resigned. “Yes. But there’s no need to think about it now, we have exams coming up.”

It wasn’t the same for Claire. The box did cross her mind from time to time since the dinner. But she, too, resigned and gave the box back to Jamie. “Fine, okay. Can I, at least, see it though?” she asked shyly.

“What?”

“Can I see it?”

Oh. Jamie was not expecting that. He didn’t think she’d be interested at all but here they are. He looked around, checking the place. The coffee shop was sparse and there’s no one close enough to pay them attention.

Jamie then focused on her, his eyes boring intently on hers, hoping to convey a certain reverence and seriousness on what he was about to show her. Slowly, he lifted the lid of the box revealing the simple silver ring within, his eyes observing her reaction.

Claire’s eyes focused on the ring as soon it was revealed. She honestly wasn’t expecting anything but if it was an engagement ring, at least, she thought, there’d be a diamond on it.

But this one was as simple a simple band can be and she was captivated by it. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad ye think so. My brother and sister never cared for it…”

“But you do.” she finished and he nodded in agreement. “How old is it?”

“About three centuries old? It has been passed down in my family for generations” Jamie shared but not giving away any more details. That was for another story.

“Alright, I have to be honest” Claire began. “I heard your conversation with Aunt Ellen last dinner. I knew about the box. It was accidental, I promise! I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I’m sorry. This is what I was avoiding. We’re in a tough spot as it is and now this. I’m sorry, Claire. Don’t think about it. I’ll deal with my parents.” Jamie rambled on his apology and closed the box.

“No, no. It’s fine. I know what she meant and I know it’s ultimately up to us.” she moved her hand to comfort him and it landed parallel to where he clutched the box. Jamie startled with the proximity but she didn’t seem to notice and he didn’t move either. “Do you think it’ll buy us time if I wore this?”

“Ye want to wear it?!”

“Why not? If it’ll buy us time, why not? Plus, it looks nothing like an engagement ring. Nobody knows if I’m with someone. If anyone asks where I got it, I’d just say I got it from a vintage store or something old family heirloom.” she reasoned.

Jamie doesn’t look convinced still so Claire held his gaze having some unspoken conversation.

“Only if ye genuinely want to.” he countered.

“I want to”, Claire replied earnestly.

After a beat, Jamie lifted his hand and held it out to hers. “Give me yer hand.”

Claire smiled and handed her left hand to his. At that moment, they felt no awkwardness in their bubble. There was a trust, a knowing, a joy, and an excitement that neither thought of and realized until later. Jamie got the ring from the box and slid it on her ring finger.

A perfect fit.

Jamie wanted to kiss the back of her palm but resisted. Instead, he gave it a gentle squeeze and let it go.

Claire pulled back and proceeded to pull out her books and other stuff on the table and Jamie settled back to his. The rest of the afternoon went by as they normally did until it was time to head home.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #jamie fraser #claire fraser #jamie x claire #arranged #arranged au #mia writes #TB writes #Mia finally updates!#thank you readers!

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