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primofate · 4 years ago

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Genshin [Volleyball Team AU - Inspired by Haikyuu!] What it’s like to be their manager Headcanons

Note: I think a lot of people misunderstand the role of the manager XD It’s not that the whole team is dating you. It’s that the whole team treats you like their family/sister. So you’d better bet that all of them are gunna be hella protective of you XD

Scenario: What do you do for the team and what do they do for you? :D

Warnings: not proofread, fluffy, might have some swear words, platonic relationships

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Tartaglia, Kazuha, Xiao, Tohma, reader as the team manager

Other works in the Volleyball Team AU Series: Click Here

Genshin Volleyball Team manager

It’s just fuckin’ chaos

On your first day you’re already bombarded with questions by Tartaglia and Kaeya

“So which class are you?” “What’s your height?” “Are you single?”

Captain Zhongli just cannot be bothered to reign them in anymore.

So Vice Captain Diluc does it and grabs their collars. “You idiots, you’re scaring her off!”

Possibly Kazuha and Tohma are the ones you really try to rely on, on your first few weeks.

So how do you gain the trust of your team? Let’s start with each player shall we?

#1 Zhongli (Captain/Wing Spiker/Ace)

Zhongli is just handsome and mature. He’s strict and needs to be the pillar of the team.

You’re intimidated by him the first few weeks and he just seems...a little far. He’s always so focused that you can’t seem to catch a moment to just chat with him.

There’s a day where you notice that his form is a little off, you suspect that he hurt his wrist a little.

You fidget uncomfortably in the gym as they practice, but finally turn to the coach “U-Umm... The captain is... I mean! I’m not sure, but... I think he needs to take a rest,”

The coach calls for someone to substitute Zhongli and suddenly asks you to check on him.

“Huh?! Me?!” the coach pushes you towards him, and Zhongli is just looking at you quizzically, you can practically see the question mark on his face.

“C-Captain, d-do you need some bandages on your wrist?”

Zhongli is taken aback, but silently puts his right wrist out for you to wrap.

Only when you’re done tending to it does he look you in the eye and ask.

“How did you know?”

“...Because I always watch, and all I can do is watch. If I can’t even spot that out then I’m not a very good manager am I?”

Zhongli has a newfound respect for you. He thought you were just a meek and shy thing sitting around and passing them balls but he feels his heart swell that someone like you is seriously watching over them.

#2 Diluc (Vice Captain/Wing Spiker/Defense Specialist)

Diluc is probably the second hardest to get along with or break the ice with.

But he gradually warms up to you when he notices that he’s always the first one you pass a towel and water bottle to.

You’re not doing that on purpose, it’s just him who always comes up first.

After a few days he deliberately goes to you faster cause he always wants to be the one to receive a water bottle and towel from you first. Secretly a puppy.

The moment he realized that you were reliable was when you stayed behind to help him practice when everyone else went home already.

You didn’t let up in your constant praise of “nice receive”, “great spike!” and “that’s so cool!”

He thinks he saw stars in your eyes at some point.

“Hey, Diluc, it’s getting late, let’s leave some energy for tomorrow, yeah?” he could tell from your mannerisms that you were tired too, but you tried not to let it show on your face and still cleaned up with him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then!” you wave but you’re stopped by a quick. “No,” from him. You tilt your head in wonder and he just looks at you as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“It’s late, I’ll walk you home,”

#3 Kaeya (Middle Blocker)

You don’t have to impress this guy, anyone of the female gender impresses him.

lol jk

safe to say it’s not difficult to befriend Kaeya, just bring him a cheering squad and some food.

all jokes aside the way to this guy’s heart is through his stomach.

He’s not a particularly hungry person but there’s this one time he forgot to bring lunch. He was running late, or something of that sort, honestly not something new for him.

He ALSO didn’t bring money so he couldn’t eat food from the cafeteria.

Ask his friends for money you say? Tartaglia would go, “Haha no way!” Albedo would go, “Let this be a lesson for you,” his brother would go “Serves you right,”

By club time he’s famished and dramatic. “Guys, go on without me, this is as far as I go,” as he sprawls on the gym floor.

You ask if he’s okay and he doesn’t answer so Diluc is the one that answers for him. “He forgot his lunch, as always,”

You make a sound of understanding and the next thing you know you’re taking out a lunch box and Kaeya has lifted his head up, sensing food.

“I packed onigiri for everyone today, actually... In case someone was hungry. It’s not much but--”

Kaeya comes alive from the dead and clutches your hands to his chest. “Manager you really are an angel,”

Diluc jump kicks him away from you.

#4 Albedo (Setter)

You also don’t know how to approach this guy

He always looks mad or stoic or something. Like he’s always thinking about something.

He low key actually is always thinking about play strategies and how to set the ball better for his teammates.

You really do think he works so hard while the game is going on, so you decide to help him out a little bit.

You watch a few more of their games and somehow come up with a list of what kinds of sets are better for each different spiker in the team.

There’s surprise in his eyes when you pass the document to him and modestly exclaim “...but, it might not be accurate, since I’m not that experienced,”

He still nods and says “...It’s the thought that counts,”

When he does read your report and try the techniques out he notices that it does hold some merit in it

Is amazed like how Zhongli is amazed. He thought you were just there to hand them bottles and cheer for them but he had never been so wrong as to what a manager’s role is.

Will trust you enough to ask you about his set performance.

Will sometimes slam Kaeya with an insult. “Kaeya, your spike sense is horrid, Y/N can read the moves better than you,”

#5 Tartaglia (Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)

It’s not that he has a hard time trusting people but let’s just say he has the tendency to make you feel like he likes you but then he actually does that to everyone.

For example: He’ll throw compliments like “Oh that’s amazing Y/N!” but then back in the classroom you’ll hear him say “Oh that’s amazing!” to, like, every other person.

That kinda disappoints you cause then the comment doesn’t really hold that much meaning to it if he keeps on saying it to others too.

He encounters a crisis mid year because this guy is just... he struggles with his grades.

Captain Zhongli has told him he can’t play volleyball if he fails even one subject.

This boy is panicking and has semi-accepted this is the end of his volleyball career.

So you offer to study with him and he’s legit stoked.

Intensive and strict study sessions commence. Note taking, pop quizzes, surprise questions and even sudden random calls from you wherein you ask him a question and he has to answer within 5 seconds.

You’ve pulled all the study techniques you know here, this man better pass everything.

Welp, he still fails History....but since he worked so hard Captain Zhongli excuses it.

He’s so happy that he can’t hold back the stupidly wide smile on his face. He turns to you and for the very very first time in months, he bows and THANKS you.

You realize that he’s never thanked you before. Not even when you pass him water bottles or towels.

You consider it a win, getting rare and sincere appreciation from him.

#6 Kazuha (Decoy/Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)

One of the easiest to get along with but at the same time, he’s so mature that you feel like you’re not even in the same age range as him.

Definitely someone you can count on though, so you ask him many questions on the first week.

Still, it’s one of those things where you can kind of talk to him but there’s still a wall between you two.

One day while walking around in school there were these boys who were commenting about his height, and questioning his abilities as a volleyball team member.

You didn’t really think much about it when you speak up, “But he’s a really good middle blocker and spiker,”

Those boys look at you weirdly and you realize that you’ve unconsciously spoken up. So you hurriedly walk away.

Little did you know that Kazuha was in some secret corner and heard the whole thing.

Just like that, the next day, it seems as if the wall between you two was gone, and you’re able to talk freely.

That, and he seemed to like asking you to help him practice his spikes and throw balls for him now.

#7 Xiao (Libero)

is deceivingly easy to get along with. Just has a rough exterior but is actually a softie if you squint.

You know this because there are subtle things he does.

He doesn’t speak to you much but then he would be the one picking up the balls with you, or sometimes there’s magically a new set of clean towels on the bench that you don’t remember taking out from the storage room.

This guy is passionate for the game, so he really beats himself up when he isn’t able to receive a ball during actual games.

You worry about his mentality sometimes. I mean, it’s a team game, it’s not like he alone can save the whole game

So you talk to him about it the other day

“You’re already a really good libero Xiao, I mean... I’m not saying you should stop practicing but you don’t have to feel so bad...” you pause because this doesn’t feel like the message you want to convey

“Sorry, what I mean is... You CAN feel bad, but share the burden with your team, you know?”

He knows what you’re saying and contemplates it for a while. He knows that his team has his back, but sometimes just needs reminder about it.

He looks at you and asks, “...Can I share the burden with you too?”

You blink “Huh?”

“You said I can share the burden with my team, but can I share it with you too?”

There is a blush on his cheeks at this point.

“Oh, yea! Of course! I don’t play but I’m still part of the team you know!”

Ever since then, during games, if he feels a little frustrated he’d glance at you on the bench and you’d give him a thumbs up for a job well done.

#8 Tohma (Pinch Server/Middle Blocker)

You’re like bffs the moment you see each other

lol jk

You’re still awkward with him the first few days cause that’s just how first meetings are.

But he is very easy to talk to and always makes you feel at ease

Will always be the one to ask how you are if you need any help or if class was okay in general

Seems like the type of person to care more about others than himself

So he’s surprised when you come into the gym and you beat him to asking his usual questions.

“Tohma, how are you today? Did you have a proper lunch?”

“Tohma, are you getting tired? Want some water?”

“Tohma, how was class today?”

All the other members of the team turn to look at the two of you, thinking ‘Why does Tohma get extra attention?’

Tohma certainly doesn’t get extra attention you just TALK to him more. The other members deadass are also getting cared for by you, just in different ways.

This boy has some insecurities though, when it comes to playing the game. He hasn’t been in it for long so he’s the least experienced and that gets to him sometimes.

“Oh, really? But you play really well! I couldn’t tell that you’re new”

His serves are really amazing though.

“Also! You always score points for us with the serves. Sometimes, your serves are my favourite part of the game!”

Has practiced extra hard so as not to let you down.

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#genshin au #genshin volleyball au #primofate #genshin headcanons #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #xiao x reader #kazuha x reader #tohma x reader #albedo x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin fluff

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lavenoon · 2 years ago

Note

If Robin were to be flirty with Sun/Moon, I feel like Sun would be the type to flip it on it's head while Moon would be the type to tease and let them keep going.

Robin: *flirts with Sun* Sun: Oh really? *flirts even more in return*

This is the rivalry Dawn could have had.

Robin is a little cocky for sure, more oblivious than a brick sometimes for sure but flirting? Totally on the table - how serious said flirting is is another question entirely (big fan of this alt timeline Robin flirting for months until one day they realize they mean it and that flusters them more than Dawn's even flirtier response - but then they wonder if he might mean it too? Cardiac arrest on the mission, tragic /j)

So if instead of the ankle grabbing Dawn had simply started turning the taunting into flirts? Robin would have been on board for sure! Their dynamic allows for it, and with the many undercover missions they're 1) used to "fake" flirting and 2) have a valid excuse to hide behind. It becomes a new game of "lets not show him he got me with that" and also "lets see what gets him".

Dawn does have the absolute advantage here though, because what really flusters him aren't the big suave gestures, but rather the soft domestic little things. Small, genuine comments that don't carry the intention to fluster, that's what makes his sun rays spin if he isn't prepared to stop it (but if they catch that, and point it out, that's also a surefire way to make him hide behind his hands <3)

But on the job? Pre-reveal? There's barely any room for genuine comments like that (unless we have reached a point where Robin has let their guard down, too - which is actually an option here, similarly to the main au rivalry with Dusk. Takes a while, of course, but they could get there pre-reveal). Something like throwaway comments after missions of how impressive it was that he noticed this one small detail, without any snark and only accompanied by a little soft laugh? Maybe a glance back at him and a smile? He's melting and will need more than a second to come up with a suave response here. Hard to think over "I need to kiss them so bad it makes me look stupid" <3

Any other time though? Dawn finds out Robin may have a preference regarding sharpness early on, and no matter how clever the comment or how suave the flirt, he can just lean down and trace the line of their jaw with the featherlight touch of his claw, and the shiver that elicits is noticed by both. Robin deflects, and thus admits defeat, and as much of a shame it is that they pull away, Dawn already knows next time he'll also add a low whisper from behind sharp teeth. He's looking forward to how they'll struggle to keep their composure after that <3

Dusk? He's a goober deep down, and enjoys the process more than the end result. Why would he try to win flirting ("'Look at me, I'm Dawn, I'm trying to get a good grade in flirting, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve' - this is what you sound like" - Sun loses it at him in their shared mind after that tease) when he could just enjoy being flirted with? If he flusters them too much, they stop and it's much more fun to keep going! His flirting is more playful anyhow, just an evolved form of the teases he directs at Robin from the start that cause less and less disgruntled reactions and more and more playful and outright flirty ones!

Off the job they both get just a tad softer, but at the core treat flirting the same. Sun in particular relies on the suave agent persona because he is trying to get a good grade in flirting, that's what he's supposed to be doing, right? It's a special joy for him when he finds out the little things can fluster Robin just as much, after their isolation deprived them of not only a social life, but of course also genuine compliments towards their person and not just their job (and even the latter is relatively rare). The boys very much enjoy flustering their little rival with genuine compliments, watching them bury their face in their hands and only groaning "Stooop, it's okay, I know" because "But do you? Best to tell you again <3"

#answer let luce #anonymous #accidentally undercover #and we are back babey the asks live too #I am totally not projecting on Robin here wdym #if this is (allegedly) my reaction to genuine compliments then that is totally unrelated #except I never say I know because I just. Do not think about the impact I leave unless pointed out #allegedly of course #*coughs* anyways #yes flirty boys <3

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forestlingincorporated · 4 years ago

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I wanna talk about Janet Drake

I’m not against exaggeratedly evil versions of Tim’s parents, tbh. It’s fanfiction, if we can depict an Exaggeratedly Good version of Bruce (which we can, and I do, and I love) then we can depict the Drakes as Exaggeratedly Bad. As someone who personally identifies with Tim, and his brand of complicated parental abuse in particular, I find it cathartic to uncomplicate that abuse and rescue him from the Obviously Evil Bad People.

That said, since much of comics lore is passed down word of mouth, the oral tradition surrounding Tim has developed this idea of Janet as The Worse Parent between her and Jack that was never really present in the comics. We see much LESS of Janet, and we have 20 years worth of comics depicting Jack as a neglectful hotheaded idiot who ultimate does love his son. More importantly, Jack isn’t very much LIKE Tim, so there is a habit to attribute Tim’s traits to his mother... and, as someone who really really identifies with Tim, Tim has... some negative traits. Tim can be a bitch sometimes. He’s fiercely intelligent and sweet and kind, with a strong sense of justice, but he can be cold and judgmental and unthinking - he fights those traits, but he does have them.

And it is perfectly fine to depict Janet that way. I’ve enjoyed depictions of Cold Calculating Janet Drake, but it’s not the ONLY option, and I want to challenge fans to consider different avenues. Tim could pick up these traits from anywhere: a nanny, Mrs. Mc Ilvaine (”Mrs. Mac”), a teacher, tv, Sherlock Holmes novels, Bruce Wayne himself. Tim is capable of not being like EITHER parent.

So, what do we KNOW about Janet? (I’ll also touch on Jack, but only in scenes he appears with Janet.)

When Janet was first introduced she was depicted as a gentle but “modern” woman. This was written in 1989, told by a 13 year old Tim, so this theoretically was meant to take place in 1979. I’m not here to give a lecture on the history of sex discrimination in the united states, but much of the legislation protecting women in the workforce or surrounding women’s bodily autonomy would have been very very new in this initial depiction.

Here, Janet is shown to be encouraging, emotional, maternal, and projects her own feelings onto Tim. Jack is shown to be slightly sexist, possibly discouraging, but not overbearing. And the artist is shown not to know how to draw children.

To insert some speculation, I think it’s important to note all the Drakes witnessed a terrible murder/accident that day. I point this out, because this is the last time Jack and Janet are depicted this way. It’s possible they changed as a result of this event specifically.

However, this is also a story being told by Tim. It’s also possible these events aren’t really “real” at all, and Tim is misremembering what his parents were like as a three-year-old, possibly projecting a more palatable version of his parents into the narrative. This is entirely up to personal interpretation.

In fact, the Drakes are shown in Legend of the Dark Knight attending Haly’s Circus, and the artist knows what a toddler looks like and they’re depicted as already having a slightly strained relationship. Jack is clearly on the defensive, and Janet seems to be passive-aggressive, though she could just be attempting to explain the situation to her toddler honestly. The intended tone isn’t especially clear.

I do want to point out, in this depiction, Tim isn’t being carried like he was in the previous one. He’s walking ahead of his parents, which isn’t a terrible horrible crime, but could be dangerous in a crowded place like the circus. Might be a subtle hint to his parents overall neglect.

Back to A Lonely Place of Dying, in Tim’s memories of the night he discovered Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person at nine-years-old, his parents are home, and watching TV together while Tim played... trucks, idk, in the living room with them. (This is semi-interesting, because you could say “oh, Tim liked vehicle toys as a kid” or you could extrapolate that this is another subtle indication of Jack’s sexism, providing Tim with appropriately “boy toys.” Either interpretation is valid. If Tim was assigned female at birth, would they have been given “girl toys,” or allowed to play with whatever they wanted?)

This is, to my knowledge, the only panel of the Drakes when Tim is between ages 3 and 13. They’re all together, which might indicate that the Drakes were home more often when Tim was 9, only later going on business trips when Tim was “old enough” but...

This is Tim’s boarding school when he’s 13. While most boarding schools in the US are for grades 9-12, Tim is clearly not a freshman at age 13; look how much younger the other kids in this panel are. In the US, the youngest you can attend most boarding schools is 7.

That means Tim could have begun going to boarding school anytime between 7 and 13. He most likely spent all of middle school in boarding school, at least. There are an almost infinite number of possible ways the Drakes handled having a business that required lots of international travel, an archeology hobby, AND a very young child. Janet staying home until Tim was 7, 11, 13, is equally possible as the Drakes having a nanny until 7, 11, 13. Tim just doesn’t talk about that period of his life very much.

(”What about Mrs. Mac?” - it is unclear when Mrs. Mac begins working for the Drakes. We only see her when Jack comes out of his coma. She could either be a long standing staff member, or a recent hire.)

Note: I’ve seen it said that it’s canon that “According to Tim, when his parents were home, they made a point to try and include him in their activities, bringing him along to events that were normally adults only.” I have never seen this panel, or I don’t remember it, so I cannot confirm, but I also cannot debunk this because... comics.

By the time Tim is 13, Jack and Janet are away on business trips a lot, with limited communication, and no firm return date. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say it was harder to communicate internationally in 1990 than it is today. If I’m not feeling generous, I’d say the Drakes are extremely wealthy, and international communication was easier than ever before in the 80s and 90s. They’re not even going home to see Tim in a week or two, they’re going home and calling Tim at boarding school in a week or two.

Even Bruce thinks its weird, though he doesn’t say so to Tim’s face. It’s written almost as if Tim’s parents’ neglect was meant to be a plot point that just got forgotten about.

Tim’s parents are fighting at this point (their poor assistant), but Janet still goes with Jack on these business trips. And she’s clearly involved in the business, somehow, but the comics never SAY what Janet’s JOB is. We’re told Jack is the exec, but Janet is ONLY ever referred to as Jack’s wife, though they’re later described as the “heads” of the company, plural.

Just to be clear, this is Jack’s business. There’s a perception that Jack is a bad business man because he and Janet fight over company decisions, and Jack looses the business after Janet dies, but Jack looses the company YEARS after Janet dies, and maintains it for about a year after No Man’s Land at that. We’re not told how Jack looses the business, but he’s got to be doing something right. Janet isn’t necessarily the “real brains” of Drake Industries.

And I’m not... gonna... touch the... exploitation and racism because... I’m not qualified to do that. But, here’s the panel. The Drakes sure seem exploitative and racist in their business decisions. Someone else can... analyze that with more nuance.

Regardless how how long they’ve been fighting, when their lives are in danger, the Drakes fall back into a loving husband and wife. Their marriage may be falling apart, but they do care about each other.

I want to show these panels because it shows that Tim and Jack do have things in common. They’re both level headed in a crisis and can be somewhat cold in their practicality. Janet meanwhile and silent. Jack is later willing rant and rave at their captors, but Janet remains silent.

That is, until they’re alone, and she finally lets herself fall apart.

God, Jack can be obnoxious. Janet just looks miserable and resigned. I actually think Tim takes after his parents in this respect in equal measure. Tim can have a temper, but he can also be fairly melancholy and defeatist.

Jack keeps reminding Janet to be strong and in control, which could be period typical sexism? But Jack seems so practiced and ready with the words of encouragement, and with Tim’s history with depression, I wonder if Janet has an inclination towards it as well.

As the end approaches, when Jack brings up Tim, Janet seems to have a lot of regret. She talks about “wasting” the good things, and I don’t think it’s too big of a stretch to assume she’s talking about time spent with her only child.

From this point on, Janet is at times spoken of, but not seen. Like here, when Jack says Janet wouldn’t approve of him and Tim being so “far apart.” He says this after he tells him he takes back his threat to send him back to boarding school, which might imply Janet was against the idea of boarding school? Though she obviously lost that argument when she was alive.

Jack will of course renege on this later, but that’s Jack Drake for you.

Or here in Tim’s illness induced dream, where he gets everything he wants. Though, since this is a fantasy of Tim’s, where his father and girlfriend are both more accepting and understanding than they are in real life, I would take this depiction of Janet with a grain of salt.

After loosing Drake Industries, Jack thinks about Janet (though, they call her Catherine/Cathy for some fucking reason) during his depressive episode. And... uh...

Hallucinates a Valkyrie???? Is this symbolic of suicidal thoughts, or is she... real? Or is he seriously hallucinating?

Anyway, we’re not here to discuss Jack’s mental state, the fact that he forgot Tim’s birthday, or that concerning “I was going to knock some sense into you but you’re still bigger than me” statement from Tim, we’re here to talk about Janet. And even though this entire arc is about Jack mourning his first wife, they don’t SAY anything about Janet herself at all. I mean, they don’t even get her name right, so I guess what was I expecting.

Then there’s Origins and Omens, which also doesn’t say anything about Janet, except that Tim’s memory of her is faulty - Janet was poisoned, her assistant Jeremy’s throat was slit on television, but Tim seems to have conflated the death he did see with the death he didn’t.

The only piece of canon to suggest that Janet might be cold, is Tim compares her to Thalia. And even then, he’s really just saying Janet was protective of him. It’s kind of a scary look to make at your kid, but Bruce does the same thing, so.

I do want to say... it’s not 100% clear if Tim is even talking about Janet. He could be talking about Dana. Dana was observably protective of Tim, though I don’t think he’s ever called her mom. He PROBABLY means Janet.

And finally we have Tim visiting his mother’s grave (in a duel Christian/Jewish cemetery, make of that what you will), where Tim says she was “a little religious.”

And that’s it! That is all we know about Janet Drake in New Earth. Hardly the Mom From Hell, but she isn’t perfect. I’d be interested in seeing some alternate depictions of her within the fandom.

I’m still gonna eat up Terrible Parents From Hell like a starving puppy dog, though. Just some food for creative thought.

#Tim Drake #janet drake #jack drake #robin #Red Robin #character analysis

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pandapetals · 3 years ago

Text

the sleepover - part two

1985 - Eddie Munson Fic

find all the parts here

eddie munson x fem!oc - no smut, fluff, original character name, cussing, flirting, one bed trope, mentions of death, mentions of drug use

a/n: hi! this is part two of my fic saturday morning detention. i think there will be maybe four parts in total, not sure yet. i promise some smut is coming. i like a build-up first.

word count: 3.9k

a few weeks later…

Life had changed for Blaire in the best possible way after talking to Eddie in detention. She no longer sat in the cafeteria by herself, instead, she was surrounded by members of the hellfire club on some days. While she didn’t know them all personally, they were nice to her. It felt good to not be alone anymore. But Blaire preferred her other lunch period.

That lunch period was spent with Eddie, just the two of them.

Eddie sat across from her picking at his lunch as Blaire rushed through the last page of homework she had forgotten to do the previous night. “Do you have to do that right now?” Eddie whined sliding his tray away from him.

Blaire quickly looked up, “Yes! I have algebra next period so I have to finish before lunch is over.” She protested skipping the math problems she didn’t know.

“Since when did you become so worried about school? I thought we didn’t care about this shit?”

“I always cared about school, remember? You were the one who said it didn’t matter.” Blaire reminded Eddie which caused him to huff in annoyance.

“Right. I just thought we agreed that lunch would be spent planning for D&D.” Eddie paused until Blaire looked up at him again, “Because I distinctly remember you saying that.”

“I never said that!”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“I thought Eddie the Great was supposed to plan everything?” Blaire proclaimed, “No one else in the club is even allowed to help you.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Because everyone else doesn’t have our minds!” He replied tapping his finger to his temple. “C’mon. I bet you can finish this shit the minute before class starts. I want to make tonight's game thrilling.”

Blaire sighed, closing her notebook. “Fine.” She said firmly looking at Eddie, “But I will only help if you promise me something.”

Eddie’s brows raised in curiosity giving her a playful smile. He may have thought he had won but Blaire would never give in so easily. “I’m listening,” Eddie replied leaning in closer, his hair brushing the table.

“I’ll help you,” Blaire assured, “but I want you to take school more seriously.”

“Excuse me?” Eddie snorted backing away from her.

“I’m not asking for a miracle but I think it would benefit us both if you showed some interest in at least one of your classes,” Blaire argued.

“I do show interest. I’m offended.”

“Eddie, English class doesn’t count. You already have a good grade there. I’m suggesting you apply yourself to science or maybe history? I think you would do well in History.” Blaire suggested giving him her best smile.

“Why should I? I’m never going to graduate. I’m pretty sure when I turn 23 they’ll have to give me a diploma by default.”

“That’s like three years away and that’s not how it works.” Blaire sighed, “Look, I’ll help you. Pick whatever class and I will make sure we study for it. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

“I have to do this for you to help me?” Eddie asked before giving his best puppy eye look at her. She normally would have given in but since hanging out with Eddie, she knew the best way to get him to do anything was to challenge him.

Blaire nodded causing Eddie to groan, “Fine. I’ll do it but I want to spend the rest of lunch planning. We can focus on school later. I already have most of it done, I just need to nail everything down.”

“Okay. What did you have in mind?”

***

“That was awesome Eddie!” Gareth excitedly said as the members of Hellfire exited the front of the school. Eddie bowed as Blaire leaned against the double doors watching the boys chat. She had managed to finish her homework before class started and plan a successful D&D campaign. Now as the sun began to set, she could feel her lids growing heavy.

“Ready?” Eddie called out giggling the keys to his uncle's car in front of her. She was grateful they didn’t have to walk to the trailer park. Blaire nodded following Eddie to the car. Before long, they were heading to the trailer park with Metallica fading into the background.

“Are you down to study?” Eddie asked quickly glancing over at her, “I decided to focus on History as you suggested earlier. I have a D right now so it shouldn’t be hard to get it up to a C at least.”

“Don’t you have to prepare for the performance this weekend?” Blaire asked yawning trying to keep her eyes open. Eddie was always juggling between Hellfire and Corroded Coffin. Almost every weekend, his band got together to practice or perform.

“You’re quitting on me already after such a riveting speech about how important school is?”

Blaire shook her head, “I’m not quitting. I’m fucking tired. In case you forgot, I didn’t have a social life like a month ago.” She snapped but regretted it, “Sorry. I’m not used to having to be around so many people. Don’t get me wrong, I love Gareth and Jeff but I get socially drained having to pretend.”

Eddie pulled the car in front of his trailer before killing the ignition. He turned to face her, “You don’t have to pretend around them, hell even me.” When she didn’t look up, Eddie placed his hand on her knee. Blaire looked over with a weak smile.

“I know. I just feel like I have to put on a face that I’m fine all the time.”

“I don’t want you having to do any of that. I know you joined Hellfire because you wanted to but if you change your mind at any point you can leave.” Eddie assured her squeezing her knee softly. She nodded knowing Eddie would never do that for any other member of Hellfire. She felt special but she had to remember that Eddie was her friend. She didn’t want to ruin what she had going.

“I’m fine. I promise. Why don’t we go in and try to study.” Blaire finally said pulling her backpack on. They got out of the car heading inside. Blaire had been inside Eddie’s trailer a few times but every time she entered she noticed something she haven’t seen before. It was weird that she was trying to memorize his trailer but she couldn’t help herself.

The trailer was old, paint-chipped and the smell of smoke caked the walls. A line of caps covered the top half of the wall that Eddie’s uncle called decor. The place wasn’t clean since neither Eddie nor his uncle cleaned but it wasn’t too bad. Sure, there were clothes scattered around the floor and burn marks on the sofa but her trailer was no better.

Blaire was about to sit on the sofa when Eddie said, “We’ll study in my room.” He walked down the narrow hallway to his room which was in the back of the trailer. Blaire liked his room because it reflected Eddie perfectly. There were posters of his favorite bands like Metallica and Iron Maiden with random things scattered around. His guitar hung on the mirror of his dresser which Blaire would stare at in awe. Eddie threw himself on his bed as Blaire sat on the edge laying her backpack down on the floor. She knew they probably wouldn’t study but that was fine because she loved talking to Eddie. He always had interesting things to say. “Ugh. I need a smoke.” Eddie complained rolling over to face Blaire.

“Then go smoke,” Blaire said pulling her backpack up and pulling out her textbook.

“Nooo. We have to study.” Eddie replied in a mocking tone as he sat up.

Blaire rolled her eyes, “I told you we don’t have to study. I know for a fact that you could easily pass all your classes if you applied yourself.”

“What makes you think that?” Eddie quizzed throwing his shoes off, one hitting the door to his closet. “Are you calling me smart?”

“Eddie, don’t play dumb. We both know you’re smart. I’ve seen you give correct answers before and you have a lot of knowledge about stuff. You just have to apply yourself which is why I’m here.”

Eddie sat there for a few moments thinking while Blaire pretended to read through her textbook. It always made her nervous when Eddie was silent. Everything Eddie did kind of made her nervous. She had realized after a week of them being friends, that she had the biggest crush on him. She thought maybe it was because he had been nice to her so she told herself that those feelings would go away. However, after a few days, her feelings only got stronger. Whenever Eddie glanced at her or accidentally brushed his fingers against hers, she swore her heart skipped a beat.

“You’re right.” He finally said, “I guess I let myself believe I wasn’t good at school because no one else thought I was. Almost everyone thinks I’m a freak because I like a fantasy game but fuck them. They don’t know shit.” Eddie jumped to his feet standing on the bed causing Blaire’s textbook to fall. “I can feel something has changed.”

“Have you gone insane?” Blaire asked standing up as Eddie jumped around his bed causing the covers and clothes to fall off.

“Insane? Yes! But this year is different. I met you for starters.” Eddie yelled jumping down in front of Blaire. “I’m going to pass all my classes this year and graduate. I can feel it. This is my year.” He wrapped his hands around Blaire’s shoulders pulling her into a hug before pulling away and dancing around the room.

Blaire laughed at him doing silly moves, “Eddie!” She called but he was focused on chanting this is my year, this is my year over and over. She sat back down on the edge of the bed watching Eddie. Once again, she found herself admiring his confidence.

“Blaire?” Eddie said finally stopping to look over at her. She nodded, “We’re gonna graduate and I’m gonna flip the bird to every single person who doubted me, especially Principal Higgins.” He shouted pulling Blaire to her feet. He swung her around and the two of them danced around forgetting about their worries for a while.

After a few minutes, Eddie threw himself on the floor, his hair scattered around his head creating a halo. She could hear his heavy breathing, his chest rapidly rising and falling. Blaire laid down next to him trying to catch her own breath. It didn’t matter what happened, whether they graduated or got stuck in Hawkins, all Blaire wanted was to be next to Eddie. She couldn’t imagine herself anywhere else.

She felt around until she found Eddie's hand. Her heart was beating so fast as she slipped her fingers into his feeling the rough patches of skin he had from playing guitar. Blaire expected him to pull his hand away or ask her what she was doing. Instead, he wrapped his fingers around hers, gently squeezing her hand. The warmth from his hand comforted her.

“Do you think I’ll graduate?” Eddie whispered breaking the silence, his eyes closed.

Blaire stared up at the ceiling, “Yes. I know you will. We’ll walk the stage together.” She replied confidently. “Then we can leave Hawkins and go somewhere nice. A place no one knows who we are.” She had daydreamed about that day since she was ten. Now, that dream included Eddie coming with her if he wanted to.

For a moment, they laid there, hands still intertwined. Blaire was lost in her thoughts and Eddie wrapped his head around the ideas Blaire proposed. “What if I don’t want to leave Hawkins?” Eddie suggested opening his eyes to glance over at Blaire. “I don’t know if I could leave my uncle alone. He's the only person who’s been there for me.”

“That’s fine. We stay here and do whatever we want. I guess get jobs and avoid the people who hate us like the plague.”

Eddie laughed, “Okay. We leave Hawkins then. Where do we go?” Eddie found it hard to leave the only place he called home but he knew there was more out there. His uncle had taken him in when no one else wanted to, but there was a part of Eddie that always wanted to leave so his uncle didn’t have to worry about him. He wanted to explore what was outside Hawkins, he just assumed he never would. Now that Blaire was in his life, anything seemed possible.

“Anywhere. California, New York. Hell, we can even go to the next town over. For now, we focus on the present like passing our classes and graduating.”

“Yes, m’lady,” Eddie replied in a horrible fake British accent as Blaire sat up, her hand dropping from his. She had forgotten they were holding hands. She nervously laughed putting some distance between them. “It’s late. Do you want to go home?” He asked.

“I probably should. We can study tomorrow.” Blaire uttered trying to stand up but her knees were wobbly. Eddie helped her up thinking she was tired. “It’s not like I live far.” She joked grabbing her backpack and tossing her textbook inside.

“Maybe you should stay?”

“No!” Blaire protested. “I mean I couldn’t. What about your uncle?”

“His at work probably will be until late in the morning. You seem exhausted so why don’t you just stay?”

Blaire paused, looking down at her shoes. It wasn’t that far to her trailer but it was pitch black outside. There was nothing waiting for her there. Her parents didn’t care enough to ask what she was doing if they were even home. She hated sleeping in a lonely house and at least here, she had Eddie to keep her company.

“C’mon. It’ll be like a sleepover only I don’t have popcorn but we can tell scary stories and braid each other's hair.” Eddie joked flipping his hair toward her. She laughed, her cheeks redden at the thought of braiding Eddie’s hair.

“Fuck it, okay.”

A few minutes later, Eddie had cleaned up his room a bit, throwing dirty clothes in his closet and shoving stuff under his bed. Blaire threw off her shoes waiting for Eddie to come back from the bathroom. She kinda regretted saying yes to staying over after realizing she had no PJs to wear and wasn’t sure where she would sleep.

She yawned hearing the bathroom door open and the footsteps of Eddie heading back to his room. Blaire expected him to be dressed in pajamas but Eddie came in wearing a short cut-off top and boxers. Seeing Eddie out of his usual jeans and layered jackets felt weird, but she had to admit she liked it. His hair was a bit wet at the ends as he messed with the radio on his dresser.

Blaire looked away when Eddie turned around, she cleared her throat. “Umm. I just realized I don’t have pajamas.” She pointed out by gesturing to her worn jeans. She did not want to sleep in them. Eddie nervously laughed before rummaging through his dresser. He finally pulled out an old baggy t-shirt that had a faded logo on it.

“Sorry about that. It’s been a while since someone slept over.” Eddie replied holding out the t-shirt. Blaire quickly grabbed it before rushing off to the bathroom. She shut the door immediately feeling tears brim in her eyes.

God, she was stupid. Blaire had gotten so caught up in her feelings, that she had forgotten that Eddie was her friend. Nothing more. She needed to calm down because the last she wanted was to mess up their friendship. She had done it before with other guys she liked and it ended with her being heartbroken.

She wiped away her tears looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a frizzy mess and her eyes were red from crying. Blaire turned on the faucet throwing water on her face a few times before slipping out of her clothes. She pulled the t-shirt over her head thankfully long enough to reach her knees. She told herself she was being dramatic, that Eddie could have meant something different when he said it had been a while since someone had slept over. Even if he had meant a girl, it wasn’t any of Blaire’s business.

She took another moment before exiting the bathroom, her clothes balled up in her arms. She could hear Eddie singing to himself as she entered his room. Her nerves were high as she threw her clothes in a corner, turning to see Eddie in his bed. His arms were resting above his head, his shirt revealing more of his toned stomach.

He looked up, a smirk flashing across his face causing Blaire to blush.

“What?” She demanded.

“Nothing,” Eddie replied the smirk growing as Blaire caught him looking at her exposed legs.

“Don’t tell me I’m the first girl to ever be in your room?” Blaire said surprising herself with her boldness. She had just cried in the bathroom over the thought of another girl being in Eddie’s room.

“You aren’t but it’s the first time a girl has worn my shirt.”

Blaire’s breath hitched feeling flushed. “Oh.” She mumbled feeling more exposed.

“Let me move.” Eddie finally said getting up.

“What? No, you can sleep in your bed.” Blaire protested, “I mean it’s your bed.”

“No you’ll sleep in the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Absolutely not. I can sleep on the floor.” Blaire replied sitting down on the floor. She grabbed the blanket from Eddie’s bed covering up with it. It smelt just like him and for a moment she forgot she was in his room.

Eddie huffed, “I don’t think so.” He picked Blaire up tossing her on the bed with a soft thud. She yelped when she landed. “No need to argue. The floor is more comfortable than you think.”

Blaire sighed, unraveling herself from the covers. “Fine.” She replied sinking into the bed as Eddie found another blanket laying it out on the floor next to the bed. “Goodnight.” She said as Eddie turned the light off leaving the room dark.

“Night.”

Blaire tossed and turn trying to get comfortable for several minutes but she couldn’t. She sighed laying on her back staring up at the ceiling. She could hear the faint breathing from Eddie below her. “Eddie?” She whispered wondering if he had fallen asleep.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah.” Blaire mumbled, “Sorry.”

“I thought so since you were tossing and turning.” Eddie laughed.

“Hey, it’s not my fault your bed isn’t comfortable.”

“Well, you can sleep on the floor then.”

She heard some movement and before she knew it Eddie was next to her. He laid down behind her, the warmth from his body radiating around her. Her heart raced as Eddie moved closer, “Maybe the bed will be more comfortable with me in it.” He whispered in her ear. His hot breath tickled her skin.

Blaire shifted awkwardly, not sure how to respond. “Maybe so.” She heard herself respond feeling like she was having an out-of-body experience. She felt Eddie laugh, his body shaking the bed. “Can I ask you something?” She asked wanting to change the subject. Her body was sweating from how hot she had gotten.

“Anything,” Eddie replied sweetly.

“Do you ever feel sad that your parents didn’t care enough to stick around? Sometimes I wish my parents had abandoned me because maybe it would have been easier than having to see their disappointed faces every day. It’s not like they ever wanted me.” Blaire’s voice broke halfway through and tried her best to compose herself.

She felt Eddie’s hand on the small of her back, rubbing circles as a way to comfort her. “I try not to think about them, to be honest.” He finally said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “After my dad died, my mom was never the same. She started doing drugs to cope with his death.” He paused feeling vulnerable. Something Eddie hated feeling, it made him feel small.

Blaire flipped over to face Eddie, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I didn’t know your dad died.” Her voice shaking. “I’m so sorry.”

“He died when I was young. I remember a little about him like how he smelt like wood and tobacco or how he would read me stories before bed but my memory of him is fuzzy.” Eddie took a deep breath looking down at Blaire who had wiped away tears.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty about wishing your parents weren’t around. Sometimes I wish the same thing about my mom especially after my dad died. She became a different person, I don’t blame her though. Death changes people. I just wish she had been strong enough to be there for me.” Eddie’s voice was shaking as he spoke.

Blaire grabbed his hand, “Is that why your uncle took you in?”

Eddie nodded, “Yeah. He was the only person who wanted to. He saw how my mom, his sister, was struggling to take care of me. So he came over to the house one day and told me to get my stuff. I didn’t hesitate because I was lonely. My mom was barely there at that point. She would lay on the couch, spaced out. She had completely forgotten about me.”

Blaire squeezed his hand, “I’m glad your uncle was there for you. Still is.”

“I just wish I could help him more. I always felt like a burden to him.”

“Don’t say that. He loves you.”

Eddie weakly smiled wiping the hair from his face. “I know. I owe him for everything he's done for me.” He paused, wiping his face as a tear rolled down his cheek. Blaire reached up to touch his face. He grabbed her hand giving it a squeeze. “Thank you for being there for me. It’s nice to know I have someone else rooting for me.” Eddie said.

“I’ll always be here until you don’t need me,” Blaire replied feeling that one day, they would both move on. They would get older and maybe think about high school. He would vaguely remember the girl who he was friends with but nothing more.

“I’ll always need you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Eddie laughed, “Okay fine. I need you right now. Does that make you happy?”

“Yes because who knows what will happen. I’d rather live in the moment.” Blaire felt brave at the moment. She leaned closer to Eddie until her face was inches from his. Her heart was racing as she gently pressed her lips to his, quickly closing her eyes. It was a quick peck but enough to make her body tingle. Blaire pulled away, nervous to look at Eddie.

“What was that for?” Eddie asked with a curious look.

“For being a good friend,” Blaire replied way too nervous to confess her crush right now.

“I didn’t know friends kissed each other.”

“Some do.”

She expected Eddie to lean in to kiss her again but he shrugged revealing a small smirk. “You’re something else, Bee.”

“Bee?”

Eddie nodded, “A nickname for you. It’s better than calling you by your last name.” He laughed sinking into his pillow. Blaire liked the nickname, she never had had one before. She closed her eyes pulling the covers up. “Goodnight, Bee,” Eddie said and she felt him turn over. Blaire smiled to herself as she drifted off to sleep. For the first time, she felt safe. She knew this feeling wouldn’t last forever but at least for now, she was right where she wanted to be.

#eddie x original character #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie my love #eddie my beloved #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #fluff #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson angst #eddie munson st4 #multi part fic #eddie the freak munson

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goldentournesol · 4 years ago

Text

Not in That Way

*gif not mine, found on Giphy*

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer’s TA falls in love with him.

Length: 3.3k

A/N: VAGUE SPOILERS FOR S15 AHEAD! AGE GAP (10 years). Read at your own risk everybody, very angsty. NO PART TWO’S WILL BE WRITTEN. enjoy :)

masterlist

It wasn’t hard, really. It wasn’t hard at all to fall in love with Spencer Reid. In fact, it was the easiest thing she’d ever done. It came so easily that it shook her to the core.

Really, what’s not to love? He is a badass FBI agent with a heart of gold, he can literally recite almost any book to her on demand, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that he looks like he’s been sculpted by a coveted artist.

She didn’t know though, she didn’t know how easy it would be to be completely enamored by someone. She didn’t know what kind of life she’d be stepping into when she’d applied to become his Teaching Assistant. She’d heard from her peers that there was a part-time professor who had been looking for a TA. She signed up without a second thought, desperate for any kind of connections that could possibly help her with her PhD in forensic psychology. When she’d learned that he was a certified genius whose other job was to be a real life superhero, she hoped and prayed he’d pick her application.

She was over the moon when she found out that he did indeed pick her out of all the students who had applied. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. She’d seen his university ID photo on the website and thought he was attractive, but seeing him in person was almost magical. The camera definitely could not quite pick up on the subtle gold flecks in his irises or the silky sheen of his hair. And that smile. She was sure she could drown in it forever.

After being chosen and going through a number of interviews, Y/N learned just how meticulous Dr. Reid was in everything he did. She helped him create the syllabus as well as build his lesson plans. Over the semester, she would go over his grading since he had the tendency to give students the answers instead of making helpful comments on the papers to make them think and reflect. She’d also learned about his particular aversion to technology, which meant they had multiple meet-ups when he was in town just so she can walk him through certain systems, like the university’s portal system as well as the email. She also showed him how to pose his answers as questions instead, explaining that sometimes, he shouldn’t answer their incomplete thoughts because it's an undergrad class. Also, with his unpredictable schedule concerning the FBI, she would often step in and teach his class whenever he was away on a case.

They’d become good friends outside of his office and classroom, probably closer than they should have been. He was just too likeable and she was always eager enough to hear what he had to say, thus a bond between them was born and reinforced each time they saw each other. He was so thoughtful, it shocked her. Once he’d heard her mention that she used to love collecting keychains when she was a child, and made sure to get her a new one from each state he’d visit thanks to his trips around the country. Her previous boyfriends were beyond disappointing in comparison to say the least, and they weren’t even dating. He knew her favorite coffee order by heart and often had it ready with a fresh croissant whenever they met at the university’s coffee shop and if they were meeting at his office, he’d take them to go.

It was little things like that that made her fall in love with him. And she knew, it’s not like she didn’t, she just chose to hide it with every cell of her being. Crushing on your professor is pretty common amongst university students, but being a TA and being desperately in love with your professor was a whole different kind of story.

She already admired his intelligence in class immensely, however hearing his stories from his time out in the field made her heart grow three times the size of normal. His stories ranged from being about geographical profiling, to action-packed anecdotes, and even funny moments with the team.

Was she constantly impressed by him? Yes.

Was she constantly worried about him? Also yes.

Which is why she’d practically made him adopt the habit of texting or calling her every time he landed in DC. They’d been chasing this unsub, Lynch, for months on end and he’d informed her that they were finally close to getting him. The last time they talked two days ago, he was feeling confident. But then it was just silence. He hadn’t texted her, he hadn’t called her. She didn’t even know if he was back in DC. Her mind took her places she didn’t want to go. He’d gotten so good with keeping her updated that this silence was turning her blood into ice water.

She’d left 11 missed calls so far. But she didn’t give up, she was determined to hear from him. The next morning she tried again, holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut in a silent prayer.

“Hello?” Someone finally picked up, a woman.

“Hello? Who is this? I’m trying to reach Spencer Reid.” Y/N said into the phone, voice clearly on the edge of tears.

“Oh you must be Y/N Y/L/N. You’re Spencer’s TA. I’m Penelope Garcia, I work with Spencer.” She said into the phone evenly, calmly.

“Yes, I am. Did something happen to Spencer? He hasn’t contacted me in two days. Why do you have his phone?” Y/N worried into the phone. She could hear every heartbeat, loud and clear.

“Spencer is in the hospital. There was an explosion yesterday and he hit his head really hard. We found him passed out in his apartment this morning.” Penelope answered. Y/N’s eyes widened and she felt the tears slip from her eyes quickly. The panic began to set in.

“C-could you please text me the address?” Y/N managed to whisper into the phone through her tears.

“Of course, sweetie. He’s going to be okay. His mother is here, I’m assuming you know about Diana?” She asked tenderly.

“Yes, yes, I know. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Y/N said, already rushing to put on shoes and looking for her keys.

The drive to the hospital wasn’t long, but Y/N felt like it took ages to get there anyway. Her breathing was uneven and her eyes were already swollen as if she’d been crying for days. There was a bad, bad feeling reverberating around in her chest. She’d somehow floated through the hospital like she was running on autopilot.

She’d found the room and met eyes with a blonde woman adorning two identical blue puffs in her hair. She would have thought they were adorable if she wasn’t panicking her heart out. She spotted Spencer laying on the hospital bed with oxygen tubes hanging around his ears and inserted into his nose. The sight made her stomach lurch. Something about the way his usually pink lips were drained of their color made her want to sob until tomorrow came. Beside the bed on the other side sat Diana Reid, a tall woman with short blonde hair. She’d seen her in photos before. Diana merely stared at her with a hint of a smile.

She stepped in the hospital room, swallowing down the bile in her throat, “H-Hi, I’m Y/N.” She waved tentatively into the room, almost unable to keep with the tensity of the two women’s gazes. She wiped at her eyes and stood at the foot of Spencer’s bed, “Is he going to be okay?” She asked, staring at the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest. That way it was reassuring to watch him. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she stood.

“The doctors are hopeful.” Penelope replied, assessing the young woman who just entered. She was much younger than she previously thought she was. Although she had no idea what to expect when it came to Spencer’s academic life, he was always surprising her.

Diana sat still and silent in the hospital chair, a pensive expression draped across her features. Penelope sensed a tension in the room and looked towards Diana, “Hey, Diana, would you like to come with me down to the cafeteria to fetch some jello for Spencer to eat when he wakes up?”

Y/N sent Penelope a sidelong glance filled with gratitude. She tuned out the sounds of Diana telling Penelope the story of the first time Spencer had jello as they exited the small room. She immediately pulled up the chair closest to his bed and grasped his hand tightly. She let out a shaky breath at the contact. Cold, his hand was so, so cold.

“Oh, Spencer, you scared the shit out of me.” She whispered, pressing her lips to the back of his hand quickly, “I could have lost you today...and-and I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself if that would have happened. I know you probably can’t hear me, but I still have to say what I’m going to say. I have to. For myself. So here goes,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, “there’s nothing that scares me more than losing you, and that thought alone terrifies me.” She sniffled, wiping away her tears, “What I feel for you terrifies me, Spencer. I didn’t know I was capable of loving someone so deeply until I met you. And...I don’t know what to do with all this love, I want to hand it all to you, let you see yourself the way I see you, but I can’t do that. I can’t.” She held back an incoming sob, whispering, “I can’t ask that of you.”

She bowed her head and rested it along his forearm, her silent tears soaking through the hospital sheets. The fear of grieving for him outweighed the fear of rejection. She’d never forgive herself if he died without knowing how big of a space he occupied in her heart. She didn’t know if she was brave enough to tell him to his face while he was awake, but this was a start. Solidifying her feelings was a start. And man, were they solid.

A few minutes later, her phone began to ring because of an endless stream of emails. There was a class today, and she’d have to teach it. She went back and forth from her phone to Spencer’s face and released a deep, heavy sigh from the pit of her chest. She stood from her seat and hovered her hand over his cheek before allowing it to rest timidly on his skin.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you soon.” She paused, chewing on her lip, “I love you.” She said softly, fresh tears making their way back to the brim of her eyes. She pulled away from him and exited the room swiftly.

Spencer’s bleary eyes opened slightly to just barely catch the sight of her disappearing into the hallway from which she came. Seconds later, Penelope and his mother came marching in, seeing his open eyes.

Penelope set down the cups of jello nearby and Diana made her way to her son quickly. He could barely keep his eyes open for long enough. It was a small achievement but they both held onto it dearly.

Hours later, he blinked his eyes open again as he heard his mother and Penelope conversing about his favorite type of cloud. Diana leaned over her son’s bed and set a comforting hand on his shoulder. He stared at her fondly.

“Am I alive or is this heaven?” He asked, smiling slightly.

“You are very much alive.” Diana smiled broadly at him.

Garcia had since gone back to the office to assist the team in finally closing the Lynch case. Spencer was just waking up from yet another snooze.

Diana looked at him closely, sometimes he felt she was the profiler in the room, “She told you didn’t she?”

Spencer rubbed at his eyes slightly, “Who are you talking about?” He yawned.

“The pretty girl who was in here earlier.” Y/N’s name had slipped her mind the second she said it. Spencer stared at his mother incredulously, shocked at just how clear her mind was at the moment. Diana took his silence as an affirmative and nodded at him.

“You should tell her.” She said definitively. For a moment, he doubted if he understood just what she meant, but he understood.

“How did you know?” Spencer asked curiously.

“I told you, a mother always knows. And I saw the way she looked at you. She deserves to know, Spencer.” Diana said.

She deserves to know.

The thought tumbled around in his head for days after he was discharged from the hospital. He was on medical leave for the moment but as soon as he could see straight, he took the train to her apartment. He’d been there a few times, they’d had a few casual dinners there while grading papers together or coming up with future lesson plans. His hands were on the verge of trembling as he knocked on her apartment door. The numbers nailed on the door mocked him as he stood waiting for her to open.

She frowned at the sound, she wasn’t expecting anybody. She pushed her laptop to the side and stood to straighten her pajamas, making her way to the door. She ripped it open as soon as she saw who it was.

“Spencer! Oh thank goodness you’re okay! I’ve been worried sick about you.” She threw her arms around his middle tightly, making him stagger a bit from the impact, but he enveloped her in his arms anyway. The contact was very welcome.

“Hey.” He smiled into the hug, his heart spilling with gratitude over being worthy enough of her attention. They separated from the embrace and she stared at him with a look resembling wonder.

“What are you doing here? I thought you still had a few more days off until you had to get back to work. Come in, come in.” She moved aside to let him in. She also moved a plethora of blankets and textbooks off the couch to make space for him to sit.

“I know, I’m sorry for kind of coming over unannounced. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything.” He eyed her matching set of cartoon character pajamas as he took a seat, making a mental note that it was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. She blushed under his gaze but shook her head nonetheless.

“Oh come on, you know you’re always welcome here. Can I get you something to drink? Some water or coffee, maybe?” She asked.

“Water’s fine.” He smiled, leaning back into the couch. She nodded and made her way into the kitchen. Spencer’s shoulders untensed for a moment and he hadn’t realized that he’d been carrying so much of his worries in them around her. She came back with the water and took a seat next to him, angling her body to face him. He muttered a thank you as he sipped from it, unsure how to approach the situation.

“I wanted to thank you. For coming to the hospital to see me. That meant a lot.” He met her eyes and saw a flash of panic dance across her irises. How did he know she was there? Penelope probably told him, right? He couldn’t have heard her.

“Of course, Spencer. It’s the least I could do.” She smiled sweetly. His heart cleaved in his chest as he stared at the sweet girl in front of him.

What did he ever do to deserve her friendship?

He fidgeted with the glass in his hands, a silence beginning to drape over them.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, noticing his fidgeting.

He took a deep breath and set the glass down on the coffee table in front of them. He turned his body to face her and reached for her soft hands. Her breath hitched at the intimate contact, butterflies erupting in the pit of her abdomen.

“You are a remarkable person, Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you in my life. I see the absolute worst that humanity has to offer on a daily basis, but you have made it your mission to make my life easier. And you do, honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He said with soft eyes and a half-laugh. She smiled back, she could practically feel the rush from his words directly in her brain.

“And it is an honor to be loved by you,” his voice hesitated to say the word, his eyes darkening with regret as he continued. Realization snapped into place for her as he said, “but I can’t give you what you need.”

He had heard her. He knew.

Her blood ran cold as she tore her hands away from his, as if the skin on his hands had the ability to burn her. He frowned as he watched her frantic eyes search his for any semblance of dishonesty. Her throat closed up over all the words that fought to surface. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came up. Instead, tears sprung to the corners of her eyes.

“What?” She whispered, brokenhearted and momentarily in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He tried to console her but she was past the point of consolation.

“I-I understand.” She nodded painfully, tears cascading down her face before she even got the chance to wipe them away, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s completely unprofessional.” She swallowed an incoming sob as best as she could.

“No, I’m glad you told me, but if I’m being honest, I knew long before it. This isn’t about professionality, I don’t care about that. But I care about you, a lot.” Spencer said softly, staring at the young woman in front of him. She shook her head, utterly devastated and doing her best to shield herself from his gaze. Thoughts escaped her as her heart took a deep-dive to settle in her abdomen.

“And I thought I should let you know how I feel. I love you, Y/N,” he paused, “just not in that way.” The soft voice he used was completely useless against the harshness of the words.

She tried, she tried her absolute hardest to suppress the incoming sob, but those words just about broke the dam. She rubbed at her eyes, nodding. He tried to set a comforting hand on her shoulder but decided against it. She took a deep breath and stood up from the couch.

That was enough humiliation for the day.

“No, no, I completely understand.” She said, voice wobbly and eyes ringed with red. He frowned up at her at the sight of her being so upset.

“Will you be okay?” He asked as he stood up from his seat. She laughed slightly, this man had devastated her, broken her heart with a few simple words and still wondered if she’d be okay. That’s Spencer Reid for you. The question made her heart ache and long for him more. His simplicity and good intentions made her question why the world wasn’t kind enough to let her have him.

“No, I won’t. And I probably won’t be okay for a long time. Because I will keep meeting men and keep comparing them to you so, until I stop doing that, no, I won’t be okay, Spencer.” She answered with a surprisingly stable voice. He frowned and nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, stepping forward to cup her cheek and gently use his thumb to wipe the remainder of her tears. Her glassy eyes bored right into his, her lips wobbling at the contact. She then closed her eyes and leaned her cheek into his palm, soaking in his warmth one last time before he tore himself away from her completely and showed himself out of the apartment without looking back.

That was when she allowed herself to fall apart. He heard her heart wrenching cries from behind the door and hesitated, but decided to walk away anyway with a chest heavy with regret.

She will never be enough for him, she thought.

He will never be enough for her, he thought.

#im sorry #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #professor reid #spencer reid fluff #mgg

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strayinvelvet · 4 years ago

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[what a fool in love]

Jisung thinks you couldn’t get any cuter when you have your cheeks all pink because of your tiny crush on him

pairing: han jisung x reader

genre: fluff, high school au, jisung is babo but cute

wc: 1.5k (this was supposed to be around 500 only but got carried away)

warning: swear words, improper capitalization because i wrote this in tumblr drafts but just hit up my ask if this annoys you!

a/n: finally posting something after bouncing so many times! hopefully i can post consistently :(

Jisung thinks you couldn’t get any cuter when you have your cheeks flushed, especially when it’s because of him.

he has been observing you for months now and he notices. he notices how you would always stutter when you talk to him. you never do that when you talk to hyunjin or seungmin. he notices how your cheeks would turn a bright shade of pink when he calls you first. sometimes it would even reach your nose.

it’s not like he has been watching you. there was just this one time when he felt like eyes are on him. the bugging feeling was present for most of the day 'til he looked around and there you were, staring right at him. now jisung isn’t really one to boast, but he knows he’s one of the “handsome princes” of the school. he is not oblivious to the number of girls and boys that have a puppy to huge crush on him, thanks to the letters and free lunches he receives every once in a while.

so from then on, he knows. you’ve been showing signs of your secret crush towards him and he finds it absolutely adorable. the silent yet friendly fella of the class who never finds a struggle in having a conversation with someone despite being a stranger to her, except with him. he wouldn’t say he doesn’t enjoy watching it.

During lunch last time, when your friends abandoned you to go do their unfinished homework, you asked him, with the most shy and the most adorable look, if you can sit with him in his table. of course, the gentleman that he is, he let you sit. how could he let you possibly spend the whole lunch time looking for a seat? he swear he was only doing you a favor. well, he wouldn’t deny finding you stealing a few short glances at him amusing.

there was also this time when your biology teacher assigned the two of you to be “homework buddies.” it must have taken you a lot of courage to start the conversation. he would’ve pinched your cheeks that time if it weren’t for his self control: hey han jisung, she still hasn’t confessed to you. don’t make her uncomfortable. ah! and what was that you asked him? if he understand how the heart works? and then you went to full on nerd mode in explaining to him how it pumps blood and all the science-y stuff. how its beats depend on different factors, including external ones such as thoughts and feelings towards others. he’s pretty sure you were trying to convey something to him. dropping hints, i see. ahh, if only he could physically coo at you.

now the reason why he enjoys your actions the most is your subtleness. he can tell that you have no plans to tell him how you feel, save for your natural reaction when you see him, unlike the others who basically throw themselves at him. he can see your efforts to not make the two of you uncomfortable. and all it told him was how considerate you are. you’ve probably noticed how the confessions annoy him sometimes, especially when it was given to him at a bad timing. like the person just wanted to let it out with no regards if he’s in the mood to hear it or not. but you, you have always checked on him silently before doing something. not until today.

your classmates have gone to their respective homes. he just finished practicing with the dance club and was just on his way to the school gates when you called his name hastily. you stopped speed-walking in front of him and took a deep breath as if you just ran out of air. you were holding a folded piece of paper in your hand- wait. piece of paper? is that a letter? a love letter?! oh no...

“hey jisung. i have something to say. actually it’s-”

“no! wait!” he hastily said to stop you.

startled, you looked at him with a puzzled look, “hm..?”

no, you weren’t supposed to confess today. where did you get the sudden courage? is it from hyunjin? that man always encourage people to confess just to piss him off. tsk, that dick.

he looked at you with hesitation. are you nervous? he really didn’t want to leave you heart broken, tho.

he sighed, “how do i say this...” he gulped an imaginary lump in his throat before continuing, “ yn, you’re cute, i admit. but you see i’m not ready for a relationship yet. you’ve seen me turn down other confessions, i think, but i don’t want to do that to you because, well, you’re simply kind and... pure?” shit how do i really say this?

while he’s thinking of nice synonyms he can say instead as a replacement for what he’s about to say, you on the other hand, were left dumbfounded.

what is this guy on...?

when he finally seemed to quiet down, you didn’t even try to comprehend what he said (there’s no need to try honestly it’s impossible) before finally saying what you really needed to say.

“jisung...” you paused for a while blinking at him, “i- i was gonna say ms. kim wants you in her office tomorrow during self-study hour. it’s about your biology grades,” you gave him the paper you were holding - his biology test marked with a big red, “you failed your preliminary quiz again and she’s afraid you’re going to fail the final quiz. she wanted me to say it because we’ve been partners for this subject.”

and then the most awkward silence ensued. not until he spoke with the most “huh?” tone.

“what?”

“Ms. Kim-”

“no wait i heard that. just... what?”

at this point you didn’t know what to say. your eyes travel from one point to another except to his eyes just because he’s clearly unfathomable right now.

“you weren’t-” he stopped to swallow the lump in his throat that now actually exists, “you weren’t going to confess?” he asked (with a bit of a hope that you actually were on the way to do so just to save him from humiliation).

however, he’s hopeless from his mess.

with a furrowed brows you finally answered, “no...? where’d you get that?”

well shit.

“i mean- don’t you like... have a crush on me?”

“where is this coming from?” you kind of dragged the where part because part of you hoped to understand where he’s coming from.

“you were all blushy with me!!” he is currently on his mission to prove that you liked him.

“when?!”

“last week! it even reached your nose and you were so cu-”

“han jisung! it’s winter! i had colds last week!”

“what about that time in the cafeteria when you were all shy?! and that time when you were explaining to me, OUT OF THE BLUE, about how liking someone makes your heart beat and stuff? or when i would catch your eyes on me?!”

“when were those even?! and you totally took that biology thing out of context!” you crossed your arms in front of your chest. you are so into this argument now.

the both of you went through this banter with your voices going higher the further the banter gets for as long as your memory (or jisung’s. he’s racking up his brain to save himself) could allow. however, as the banter got stretched, the more he realized that he really did misunderstand you and your adorable actions. by a lot. so when it finally donned him that he has such a thick face for thinking like that, plus assuming that you would confess, he finally kept quiet and let himself absorb the stupidity he has done.

for you, however, you find this whole strange exchange hilarious. normally, if it was other guys, you’d have slapped him across the street for assuming things. but it is han jisung. he never rubbed it on anyone’s faces that he has a lot of admirers. he never gets cocky about his popularity. he gets shy over small praises (he loves praises). he also managed to teach the whole class one lesson in calculus minutes before an exam just because his friends asked him to teach them a crash course, until the whole class joined their little tutorial.

“soo...” you tried to start.

“wait don’t talk anymore this is kinda embarrassing for me,” he closed his eyes shut as if he's trying to convince himself to wake up from this embarrassing nightmare.

you giggled, well isn't he adorably clumsy? he's weird but you'd just take it as another opportunity to gain a close friend. “do you still need help in biology? i kinda need help in calculus...”

“alright, let’s head down the diner” he answered immediately before walking straight forward without looking at you.

"jisung!” he stopped on his tracks but without looking at you. “it’s this way!" you pointed at the opposite direction of where he was going. he turned towards you and fast-walked in that direction until you told him to wait for you in which he slowed down his steps by tenfold until you were right beside him. still not letting your eyes meet. he’s that embarrassed.

little did you both know a close friend is not only thing you'd gain from this.

#districtninewriters #inkidz #stray kids #han jisung #stray kids au #han jisung au #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #han jisung fluff #han jisung x you #stray kids x reader

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martianbugsbunny · 3 years ago

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OUAT Thoughts Pt.56--Episodes 2-3

I have watched through S6E3; spoilers DNI. Also, spoiler warning for anyone further behind than I am.

—That Renaissance-y ballroom Monte Cristo had was so pretty. If I had a house that cool, I wouldn’t throw parties or care about revenge, I would just stay home and stare at the decor all day.

—Regina’s outfit at that ball was lovely. She has the best embroidery on her Evil Queen clothes.

—Zelena and the Evil Queen working together is going to be a huge pain in the neck, I can just feel it. Zelena’s annoying and the Evil Queen is…evil. It’s a very bad combination.

—Belle is low-key full of crap. She never really tried to make things work with Rumple. (Disclaimer, he didn’t really try much either.) She A) didn’t have realistic goals for their marriage and B) didn’t really do the whole communication thing too well. She could at least have the good grace to admit it instead of acting like the marriage not vibing is entirely Rumple’s fault.

—Very cool how extremely normal it’s played for Emma to go to counseling. And I love Hook even more for being supportive of her, and encouraging her to go. Their relationship is actually one of the most plausible, realistic, healthy relationships in the show. I mean, not that I know much about that kinda stuff, but that’s how it comes across to me.

—Why is Monte Cristo so speedy? I know the gist of the original story, but none of the details, so I’m not going to know which traits are derived from the original and which are cool new ones. Which is a lil sad for me, because I love being able to compare.

—I like the Evil Queen’s hairstyle except for the loose hair. When you’ve got a perfectly chic updo, why ruin it with having some hair not make it in?

—Archie is still v handsome. I wish he was wearing more sweater vests right now, but jackets and ties are cool too. I 💖 his glasses, btw. So cute. And he’s a listener. Oh, gosh, listeners slay me.

—Regina’s new haircut is cute.

—Hook and Henry sword fighting with branches is cute. I love that they get to have a good relationship. And I love when Hook gets to show his playful side.

—Monte Cristo makes me sad. He wanted revenge, but not at any cost. When he died, yes Regina was defending her friends, but he wasn’t trying to hurt them of his own free will.

—Rumple’s Scottish came out in full force when he was reading that nursery rhyme for the baby. Like damn, I’m still kinda starry-eyed over it.

—It’s an interesting take on Cinderella to also have one of her stepsisters be a victim of the stepmother’s scheming. I’ve seen Cinderella where the stepsisters are willing accomplices and Cinderella where none of the stepfamily is evil, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before. Well done.

—I also like that Gus got to go to the ball with Cinderella in his human form. He can eat so much more cheese as a human!

—David’s verging on dumbass here. Seriously, this whole family needs to take a communication workshop. Something important happens? Somebody’s gonna die? Well, no need to discuss with the loved ones, they’ll find out soon enough!

—Speaking of, Emma not telling her family about her impending death is very David-in-Neverland. She’s really her father’s daughter.

—I have seen the light. The light is Dr. Frankenstein x Dr. Jekyll. They’re both kinda mad scientists and the way Jekyll was all ‘it’s an honor to meet you’??!?!!? YES! Plus they aesthetically work, because one looks a little bit more sinister and one of them looks pretty non-threatening, which reflects their personalities. Put them together and they just 🌟vibe🌟 in every possible way!

—Also I would like to point out that Frankenstein is low-grade smoking, what with his blonde hair, mad scientist lab coat, and little bit of dark eye makeup. Dr. Whale? Not so interesting. Dr. Frankenstein? Oh yes.

—I am gonna be obsessing over Jekyllstein (IDK) for at least another week. Maybe longer. If I get some decent footage of them working together in Frankenstein’s garage lab, it’s gonna be a month.

—Speaking of eye makeup, Hook’s was on point in episode 3. His eyeliner just stood out so well for some reason. And gosh does it highlight his eyes!

—He and Emma are finally moving in together! YAY!

#once upon a time #ouat #the count of monte cristo #regina mills #the evil queen #zelena #dr. Archie hopper #Emma swan #Captain Hook #captainswan #cinderella #wicked stepsister #prince David charming #rumplestiltskin #belle #dr. frankenstein #dr. Jekyll #jekyllstein #martianbugsbunny reviews

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bwbatta · 5 years ago

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one - favour

Abstract: Draco and you are just friends so doing him a favour and pretending to be his girlfriend wouldn’t effect your friendship, right?

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: A few swear words but nothing else!

Word count: 1806

A/N: I debated for ages whether or not to make this into a series and alas the series won! Let me know what you think and get in touch, depending on interest I may create a taglist for it!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 2

If there was one person on Earth who was the definition of annoying, it was Pansy Parkinson.

At least that’s what Draco thought anyway.

She would constantly cling onto him and leave some not so subtle hints for him to ask her out and date her. That is, along with the rumours she would spread herself about Draco having a massive crush on her.

Everyday would be the same: get up, have breakfast, Pansy would talk his ear off about some nonsense, he would tell her he’s not interested, she wouldn’t listen.

Then next on the list was going to class, seeing you, you’d make him laugh, then have some lunch.

Pansy would corner him again in the Great Hall, then he’d go back to class, finish class, avoid Pansy until dinner, most likely run into you, spend time with you, go to dinner, and be blindsided by Pansy again.

Any time off that Draco had, he would be approached by the annoyingly resilient girl he just couldn’t get rid of. She just didn’t get the fact he wasn’t interested.

He sighed, irritated already at only 8am, picking at his slice of toast on his plate.

Crabbe and Goyle were sat with him stuffing their faces as they usually did. It was almost sickening really and despite the fact Draco had hissed at them repeatedly to stop spraying food on him while they talked, food flying out their mouths, they never listened.

Draco thanked his parents silently for teaching him some manners at least.

He felt her before he saw her.

The Malfoy boy swore the room dropped several degrees as the girl he dreaded to see sauntered in like she owned the place, eyes narrowing on him as she made a beeline towards him.

Even Crabbe groaned when he saw her. Now that was really saying something.

“Hi Drakey baby”

“Don’t call me that”

“Aw you know you love it”

“No, I really don’t, Parkinson, I can’t tell you enough to be completely honest”

Pansy ignored him, like usual, and continued to talk at him about something mind numbing as Draco made the conscious straining effort to drown her out.

That was until he saw you entering the Great Hall.

Unconsciously his eyes locked onto you and Pansy was as far from his focus as possible. You greeted people when you walked by them, even at this early hour, and Draco couldn’t help but admire that quality in you.

He watched as you sat down at your house table, welcomed by your friends as you grabbed your morning coffee. Something he knew you wouldn’t be able to get through the day without.

Your eyes then flittered around the Great Hall before they locked with his, smiling at his already warm stare on you.

Raising a hand you wiggled your fingers at him in a wave which he acknowledged with a grin. Your eyes shot to Pansy before returning to Draco with the most sarcastic eyebrow raise he’d seen on you, before you went one step further, and wiggled them suggestively.

You knew how much Pansy bothered your friend, his excessive ranting to you about the annoying girl proving that fact to be correct. So you, being the good friend you are, would always sarcastically make fun of his unfortunate situation.

His eyes narrowed at you in a mocking glare to which you couldn’t help but laugh at, enjoying his misery.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Draco’s gaze was snapped away from you to the girl beside him who had poked him harshly in the arm and fitted him with a glare of her own.

“Nope”

“Draco!”

He zoned her out again, eyes finding yours once more which crinkled in amusement at his situation. He rolled his eyes at you, a daily expression to show how irritated he already was before the day had really even started.

You shrugged your shoulders back, acknowledging his irritation before one of your friends caught your attention by waving a hand over your face, effectively breaking your silent conversation with the Malfoy boy.

Draco sighed again and checked his watch.

The small hands showed he still had another half an hour before class, and the boy prayed time would move faster so he could get away from the persistent headache that was Pansy Parkinson.

You took your seat in the potions classroom, smoothing down your robes as you readied yourself for your last class of the day.

The entire day had dragged and you were just thankful to nearly make it through, with only the exception of Potions class. Normally this wouldn’t be too bad thankfully because of your potions partner, but it currently seemed like he was late and class was about to start any minute.

The door to the room slammed open and Snape strode in, black cape billowing behind him like a giant bat. You shoved the laugh that threatened to escape your lips down as the thought played over in your head.

“Quiet” the dark haired professor shot the class a nasty glare. “Today you will be making the Draught of Peace. Your mark for this potion will go towards your final grade so you best not mess it up.”

The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“Begin.”

Just as you stood up to get your ingredients, the door banged open again and a flustered Draco entered the room with a scowl on his face.

Snape barely batted an eye at Draco’s late entrance, only pinning him with a firm look before moving onto glare at some unfortunate Hufflepuff.

Draco took his seat next to you and dropped his bag under the desk with a thump after taking out his potions textbook.

“What potion are we doing?” he asked not even looking at you as he skimmed his way through the book.

“Draught of Peace” you replied with a frown “You okay?”

Draco slammed his book shut with a sigh and turned to you with a furious look on his face.

“She tried to give me a bloody love potion!”

The ‘she’ in question was no mystery to either of you as you knew exactly who he meant.

Even still, your jaw dropped as you reciprocated his statement with a look of utter disbelief.

“What?!”

“A bloody love potion!” he practically growled “I can’t believe how fucking deranged she is that she can’t understand the words ‘I’m not fucking interested!’, I mean is she delirious?!”

You didn’t really know what to reply, which was apparently evident on your face as Draco sighed, calming himself down.

“How did you find out she tried to give you a love potion?” You managed to question.

“Blaise knocked my cup out of my hand before I could drink it, said he saw her put something in it across the Great Hall and managed to get to me before anything happened.”

“Merlin” you cursed “she really is desperate.”

“You’re telling me” he rolled his eyes in exasperation before he reopened his textbook to the right page this time.

The two of you started your potions, working together as a team like you usually did which helped each of you out at the end of the day.

“You know,” you said stirring your cauldron “she may stop bothering you if you actually date someone else?”

Draco suddenly froze at the suggestion.

“I mean, if you were actually in a relationship with someone else.” You continued to speak your mind, not noticing the blonde boy’s mind now whirring full of a new idea. “She might back off and leave you alone when she sees your not available anymore. Just a thought.”

It was then Draco turned to you with a new light in his eyes and a look of wonder on his face.

This, you noticed.

“What are you thinking about?” you frowned.

“That that’s a perfect idea!” he practically glowed. “You could date me!”

You swore you almost choked on the air in your lungs.

“What?!”

“See, it would work so well! She would finally leave me alone and give me some peace of mind so I don’t go insane, and we get on so well anyway that no one would really blink an eye if we started dating!”

He had now completely turned to you, eyes wide at his idea, huge grin across his face. His hand rested on your arm as he tried to portray his enthusiasm for this idea.

“Draco... I don’t know” you were apprehensive about the situation

“Oh (Y/N), come on, please! Help me out! Call it a favour?”

“A favour is when you ask a friend to copy notes from a class, not fake an entire relationship!” you whisper shouted at him

“Come on, I’ll even buy you that Honeydukes bundle and pair of boots you’ve been going on about for ages for Christmas?”

“Draco-”

“I’ll play nice with Granger?!”

You went to turn down the idea again but stopped yourself as soon as this entered the bargain.

“You’ll be nice to Hermione?”

“...yes”

“Merlin, you’re serious about this?”

“Deadly”

Hermione had been your friend since first year and the most crucial problem of your friendship was the friendship you had with Draco. The Granger girl felt she couldn’t really say how she absolutely hated Draco to you, and the fact he constantly tried to go out of his way to be horrible to her.

You knew Draco picked on Hermione and you constantly would tell him off about it with the promise he’d listen and not do it again. That was, only for the moment to pass, and another comment being made about her being a ‘mudblood’ would slip past his lips.

You watched as Draco watched you with apprehension. No matter how much he was putting on a calm exterior, you could tell he was serious about this.

“...So you’ll be nice to Hermione and get me the big basket of chocolate in the Honeydukes window?...and the super cute designer boots?”

“Yes!” he said adamantly “I’ll even get you two bundles of the chocolate, and the boots in however many colours you want”

“They only really look good in black but I guess owning the tan brown ones couldn’t hurt” you contemplated “Throw in the matching tan jacket?”

“Done”

“Draco Malfoy, looks like you’ve got yourself a fake girlfriend” you grinned knocking your shoulder against his own “Don’t be too desperate though or I might think your name’s Pansy”

He shot you an unimpressed look.

“Kidding” you winked before turning back to your potion

“I can’t believe you caved because of chocolate, new boots and the fact I said I’d be nice to Granger” he chuckled, returning to stir his own potion “you’re so easy to please”

“And the jacket! Don’t forget the jacket!”

“Of course... and the bloody jacket”

#draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy headcanon #draco malfoy x you #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #draco x you #draco x reader #dating draco malfoy #hogwarts #harry potter

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flourgirl · 5 years ago

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Sleepyhead

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter will try just about anything to help out the very pretty insomniac from his math class.

Work Count: 11.2k

Warnings: Just some sweet, pure fluff with a few curse words every now and then.

A/N: Either the tags aren’t working for me or you guys just didn’t like it, but the final part of “Even If It’s a Lie” has been out for a few days now if anyone’s interested in reading it 🥺 Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this super long piece I’ve been working on to help me get through finals <3

“Touch you softly I call you up late at night No doubt it isn't right But you could be my one and only” -Softly, Clairo

Peter had seen you around campus a few times, but it wasn’t until you started sitting two rows ahead of him in his linear algebra class that he really started to notice you.

He thought you were really pretty, and he liked how cozy you always looked in the puffy winter coat you kept on in the perpetually freezing lecture hall. You took a lot of notes, which told him that you cared about the class, and never showed up without a giant cup of iced coffee.

You’re being a creep, Peter told himself. He had thought about switching seats to somewhere in front of you, so he could actually listen to his professor discuss permutations instead of staring at how you chewed on the end of your pen when you were thinking.

It was even worse when you started sleeping in class, your soft hair falling around your shoulders as you leaned your head against your desk. It seemed like all the coffee in the world couldn’t keep you awake, and Peter wondered if he should ask if you wanted to borrow his notes or something. But that would mean him admitting to looking at you way more than he needed to, and that was weird, so he quickly dropped the idea.

Still, he was worried about you. So when he came back from patrol in the middle of the night and bumped into you outside of the dorm kitchen, he figured it would be the perfect opportunity to introduce himself and maybe even find out why you were so tired all the time.

The only problem was that he had accidentally knocked your pan of banana bread out of your hands, and you were currently staring at it laying on the floor with your sleepy eyes, not saying anything.

“Shit, uh, I’m so sorry,” he told you, crouching down to scoop up the remnants of your late-night snack into the pan. “Were you really up baking at 3 a.m?”

You blushed a little, starstruck that the cute guy from your math class was talking to you. “Um, yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d come down to the kitchen while nobody else was here and make something. Baking always helps me calm down, and so here I am. And here we are. And there’s my bread, all covered in whatever kind of dust the custodians refuse to sweep down here.”

He offered a soft smile, and it made you feel better about the fact that you were rambling way more than you wanted to.

“I’m Y/N,” you continued, gently taking the pan from his hands. “You’re in linear algebra with Professor Meyers, right?”

“Yeah, you, um, you sit right in front of me. Well, not right in front of me. Two rows in front of me. Shit. I’m not creepy, I promise. It’s just… uh… My name is Peter and I’m going to stop talking now.”

That couldn’t have possibly gone any worse, he thought. You were probably thinking he was a serial killer or something.

“It’s okay. I know you sit behind me,” you reassured him. “You answer a lot of questions.” He was cute and smart, and you hoped he couldn’t notice how flustered you were to be this close to him.

“What are you doing up so late?” he asked, which made you laugh at how ironic his concerns were, considering he was also wandering around the dorm basement at this hour.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, sitting on one of the benches that jutted out of the walls of the corridor. “I mean, you’re here too. At least I was baking. What’s up with you?”

You had a point. “I had an emergency… with my internship. I work for Stark Industries, and Mr. Stark rang me in the middle of the night to come to the lab immediately for something, so, yeah. That’s why I’m awake right now.”

“Okay,” you said, not buying his story. “So that’s why you have a black eye and you’re lurking in the basement hallway? Did Tony Stark punch you?”

Fuck. Did he really have a black eye and not notice? He didn’t think that Doc Oc’s stupid mechanical arm had punched him that hard, but apparently, he was wrong. And now he had to come up with some reason as to where it came from, although he could already tell that you were about to call his bluff.

The only solution he could think of was to change the subject. “Why are you always asleep during class?” he blurted out, causing you to give him a funny look before frowning down at your slippers.

“Isn’t it obvious,” you yawned, stretching your arms out in front of you. “I’m an insomniac. It’s actually kind of funny. I never really had any problems with falling asleep until I moved here. Maybe it’s the cold weather or the constant pressure to get good grades, but I just can’t sleep anymore. It sucks.”

Normally, you’d never tell this much about yourself to somebody, let alone a complete stranger. But somehow, you felt really comfortable around Peter. There was just something about him that made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Peter caught himself staring at you again, your baby pink pajamas a far departure from how put together your usual outfits were. Even without your makeup or hair done, you were still the prettiest girl he had ever seen. For some reason, even the dark circles under your eyes were really cute to him.

“You never answered my question,” you reminded him, hoping that he’d say something to fill the awkward silence. “What’s with the black eye and wandering around in the middle of the night? Are you some kind of superhero?”

“What? No! That’s crazy. Me, a superhero,” he laughed awkwardly, wondering if you had somehow figured out his secret identity. Had you spotted him that one time he made sure that you and your friends got home safely from a late-night study session? Even so, you totally couldn’t have known it was him, right?

“Relax, I’m just joking,” you giggled, thinking about how cute he looked when he was flustered. “Although my friend did tell me she thought she saw Spider-Man a few weeks ago on her way back from a party.”

“Haha, yeah,” he breathed out, a wave of relief washing over him. It was times like these that he really started to appreciate how well-hidden his muscles were underneath all of his oversized sweaters.

“Does that hurt?” you asked, bringing your hand up to lightly brush his lip, which was bleeding. He flinched instinctively before settling under your touch, your eyes focused on the small cut. “I have a first aid kit in my room if you want some help cleaning it up.”

“Oh, no, it’s cool. I wouldn’t want to bother your roommate,” Peter told you, scooting further away on the bench, nearly falling off the edge of it. Ned hated it when he stumbled in at some ungodly hour after patrol and woke him up.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up and gesturing for him to follow you. “I have a single.”

Peter looked at you in awe. Freshmen never got rooms to themselves, and yet somehow you had one. “Okay, fine. But only because I’ve never actually seen a single in this building before.”

“That’s cool with me,” you smiled, reaching for his hand so he could keep up with your pace. He noticed that you were chewing some of the banana bread, which he really hoped was from the part that didn’t fall on the floor. To be fair though, it did smell really good.

Not only did you have a single, but you lived on the first floor. Peter couldn’t believe how lucky you were, considering the building that the two of you lived in didn’t have any elevators to traverse its seven floors.

He was even more shocked when you opened your door, revealing the coziest dorm room he had ever seen. How on earth did you transform the glorified prison cell into something that felt so... comforting? From the twinkling lights that were wrapped around everything and the soft rug under his feet, Peter found it really hard to believe that you had trouble sleeping here.

“Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” you apologized, piling your many throw pillows and blankets into a basket to clear up some space on your bed. “You can sit here.”

If this was messy, then Peter and Ned’s room needed some serious help. “No worries,” he said, watching as you rummaged around your drawers in search of your first aid kit.

Eventually, you found it hidden under a bunch of graph paper and colored pencils, untouched ever since your overprotective grandparents had helped you move in. “Here we go,” you mused, now looking inside it for alcohol wipes and band-aids.

He winced as you rubbed the little cloth against his lips, and you made sure to be more gentle as you cleaned up the other cuts on his face. Thankfully, nothing was bad enough to require stitches, something you were seriously under-qualified to do.

All Peter could focus on the entire time was how close you were and what it would be like to just kiss you right then and there, but he knew that was way too forward of him. Plus, he didn’t even know if you liked him like that. Surely you were just being nice.

Still, the way he caught you staring into his brown eyes after smoothing a band-aid on his forehead made him think otherwise.

“You’re going to have to tell me eventually who beat you up,” you sighed, gathering up wrappers to throw away and tucking the first aid kit back into its place in your drawers.

“It’s a long story,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your stare.

“I’ve got time,” you replied, climbing onto your lofted bed to sit next to him, innocently brushing your bare leg against his jeans, which made his breath hitch. “Tell me about it.”

“Uh, how about another time?” he stammered, hopping off the bed and running his hand through his hair. “After class tomorrow, or something. It’s getting pretty late. We should, um, go to sleep.”

“You can stay here if you want,” you offered, his eyes widening at your invitation. “On the bean bag, I mean. It’s actually really comfortable. You mentioned something about bothering your roommate and I figured that maybe you’d like to avoid the trouble tonight.”

“Oh…” Peter hesitated, looking for a reason to say no. He knew he’d never be able to sleep knowing that you were in the same room as him. “I don’t have any pajamas.”

“True,” you agreed, a little disappointed that he wasn’t interested in sticking around.

“I don’t actually even wear pajamas to sleep,” he continued, making you look back up at him instead of playing with the hem of your shirt. “It’s just… I sleep in my boxers.”

“I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation,” you sighed, your face hot with embarrassment.

“It’s not that! I mean, I do want to stay here. But, uh, you… well, you make me really nervous, Y/N,” he muttered, his glance bouncing around the room.

“Why?” you asked, your brows furrowing. “Did I do something?”

“No, no! Nothing at all. I promise, okay?”

“Okay. You can, um, get ready for bed, I guess. I promise not to look,” you assured him, turning on your side to face the wall.

“Thanks. Yeah, alright.” You heard him fumbling with his clothes, his sneakers making a soft thud on your floor. You did your best to resist the urge to glance back at him.

“Can I just use any of these?” he asked, although you had no idea what he was talking about.

“Peter, I’m not looking, remember? You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“The blankets. Do I just pick one, or are you particular about them?”

“Oh. You can use whichever one you want to. But the coral one’s the softest and my personal favorite.” Peter stared at the basket in confusion. To him, they were all just pink. But based on touch alone, he pulled one out that he figured was a little more orange than the others.

He walked over to the light switch and flipped off the overhead fluorescents, letting the room be illuminated by the warm glow of your fairy lights, which weren’t too bright, but still twinkly and beautiful.

“Goodnight, Peter,” you whispered, snuggling into your comforter in the hopes that your heartbeat would slow down and let you fall asleep for once.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” In a matter of minutes, you could hear his soft snoring, and you figured that it would be okay just to take a quick peek since he’d probably be bundled up in one of your blankets.

His hair was perfectly messy, and he looked so cozy wrapped up in the blanket you had recommended. Still, as much as you could stare at his adorable face all night, you were exhausted. Burying your face under the covers, you did your best to calm your nerves and get some rest before class tomorrow.

----------------

“Peter,” you whispered, jostling him lightly by the shoulders in the hopes of waking him up. “Uh, we have an hour before class. I was thinking that it would be enough time for you to go shower and change, and then we could go get coffee or something.”

He blinked back up at you, amazed at how well he slept on your bean bag. You had already gotten ready for the day, doing your makeup and picking out one of your many fluffy sweaters to keep you warm in the New York snow.

“Thanks, that sounds awesome,” he yawned, accepting the hand you held out to help him up. The blanket fell, and you stared at each other in shock, having forgotten that Peter was in nothing but his underwear.

You dropped his hand as fast as you could, covering your eyes. “Oh my god! I’m sorry. Shit, I completely forgot, Peter. I’m so sorry. I’ll let you get dressed.”

Peter watched as you stumbled around the room, your eyes squeezed tightly as your hands attempted to guide you away from him.

“Y/N,” he started, catching your attention as you nearly ran into your bed frame. “You can open your eyes. Really, I don’t care if you see me like this if it means I can keep you from breaking your nose.”

You hesitantly opened your eyes, relieved that Peter had already managed to pull his pants back on. Still, he was completely shirtless, and you found yourself staring at the abs you would have never expected to be hiding underneath his clothes.

Moments later, you averted your gaze, although you knew that he probably noticed you looking at where was now covered by his plaid button-down and dark blue sweater.

“I’ll, um, be right back,” he muttered, before practically sprinting out of your room and up the stairs. You groaned in embarrassment, burying your face in a pillow before attempting to take a quick twenty-minute power nap.

Peter couldn’t believe it. Sure, he had thought one time about you seeing him without clothes on, but this wasn’t how he thought it would go at all. Still, the image of you staring at him shirtless, your face flushed, made him feel like he was going to have a heart attack.

“Dude! There you are,” Ned screamed, startled at his roommate’s unexpected entrance. Peter panted, having run up four flights of stairs as fast as he could. “Wait a second. Did you finally get laid? Is this a walk of shame?”

Before Ned could praise him any further, Peter was grabbing a change of clothes and sprinting towards the bathroom. Don’t think about her, he begged himself.

The memory of your leg touching his last night immediately came to mind, and Peter was so angry at himself for being this starved for physical intimacy. To be fair, though, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and so he cut himself some slack.

Shit, he told himself, making sure the water was set to cold. He needed to calm down, but instead, his thoughts were stuck on how good you looked in your pajamas, but also how good you would look without them and—fuck it.

Peter liked you a lot, and if thinking about you like this in private kept him from being a complete weirdo in person, then maybe he just needed to get his feelings of desperation over with.

When he came back down to your room about thirty minutes later, you were still super tired. You trudged your way towards the door, your hair now noticeably messier than earlier, but at least that meant your nap had been a success.

His hair was still damp and this time he was wearing yet another blue sweater, which made you wonder if he ever wore any other color. He had his backpack slung over one of his shoulders and a nervous smile on his face as he locked eyes with you.

“Hey,” he said, pushing some of his hair out of his face. “Are you ready to go?”

You leaned against the doorway a little bit, letting out a yawn that was literally the cutest noise Peter had ever heard in his life. “Yeah, let me get my backpack.”

“It’s so heavy,” you continued, rightfully complaining as the weight of all its contents practically pulled you downwards. “I think it’s so stupid how almost every professor bans computers from class. Like, it’s not fair that I have to lug around three textbooks every day. I don’t have time to run back to my dorm in between classes like some people!”

Peter frowned. Three textbooks were nothing to him, but he knew that you didn’t have spidey-strength and that you were also pretty tiny compared to him. It must’ve been hell on your back to be carrying all that stuff around every day.

“I can carry it for you,” he offered, holding out his hand to switch with you. “Here, you can take my backpack if it’ll make you feel better. I have a lot of programming classes today, so I’ve only got my laptop and a notebook in there.”

You gave him a look of gratitude as he traded bags with you, literally taking the weight off your shoulders. He was right. His backpack was much more manageable for you, even if the dark grey contrasted with the light colors you always wore.

In contrast, it looked kind of odd for him to be walking around with a backpack that was covered in a soft pink floral pattern, much like everything else you owned, but the sight of him carrying your books brought a smile to your face.

It was one of the sweetest things a guy had ever done for you, and Peter wasn’t even your boyfriend. He probably didn’t even think of you in that way.

“Uh, where do you usually get coffee?” he asked, slowing his pace so you could keep up. He felt bad seeing how tired you were, no doubt due to the lack of sleep you got last night.

“The Starbucks next to Hendrie Hall,” you replied, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “You?”

“I don’t drink coffee,” he admitted. “I’m actually more of a tea person.”

“Oh,” you hesitated, wondering if it was worth it to walk all the way across campus just for a caramel ribbon crunch frappuccino. “We could go somewhere closer then.”

“It’s okay,” Peter reassured you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to your destination. “I like walking.”

----------------

You hadn’t really talked to Peter since that morning before class, but sometimes you would peek behind you and catch him stealing glances at you. Eventually, he had started to feel brave enough to give you a little wave whenever you caught him looking at you. Well, at least the times when you were awake.

One day, not even the loud shuffling and growing chatter of your classmates exiting the lecture hall could wake you up, and Peter figured he better do something before you got chewed out by one of the TAs.

“Y/N?” he said, leaning closer so that you could hopefully hear him. “Y/N. You gotta wake up. Class ended three minutes ago.”

He shook you a little bit, nervously hoping that you wouldn’t mind him touching you. Your eyes fluttered open, and you smiled softly as soon as you realized it was Peter.

“Oh. Thanks,” you said, standing up to slide your empty notebook into your backpack. Your hand brushed the side of your mouth, making sure you hadn’t drooled onto yourself.

“You can borrow my notes,” he offered, glancing at you sheepishly as you gathered up your coat and fixed your hair. “If you want to.”

“That’d be great,” you sighed, wondering whether you should skip your next class and just go take a nap. At this point, you weren’t even bothering to put on makeup and you basically wore whatever clothes you had that weren’t already sprawled across your room.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, walking close to you to make sure you didn’t fall over. He knew you were an insomniac, but you looked seriously sleep-deprived today. “Have you been sleeping at all lately?”

“Nope,” you huffed, lugging your perpetually heavy backpack along. “But I’m skipping the rest of my classes today. I’d rather lie that I’m sick through an e-mail than have to explain to my professors why I was sleeping during their classes.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, stopping you in your tracks to take your backpack from you. “I’ve actually got some time before my next class. I can walk you back to your room and give you my notebook if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you told him, reaching to take your bag back from him, although he didn’t let you.

“Y/N. Come on, you’re exhausted. At least let me carry your stuff, alright?” He had such a kind look in his eyes, and you certainly didn’t have the energy to keep arguing for no reason.

“Okay.” You crossed your arms, the cold air slowly waking you up as the wind hit your face. Your ears were super cold, but you were glad you had pulled your hair into a quick braid to keep it from flying everywhere.

It wasn’t long before you were kicking your boots off in your dorm room, your teeth chattering as you wrapped yourself in a blanket.

“Do you want some tea?” you asked Peter, inviting him to sit down wherever.

“Sure, but I thought you drank coffee,” he reminded you, watching as you pulled an assortment of tea bags for him to choose from.

“I do,” you said, handing him the box and running to your bathroom to fill up the electric kettle. “But you drink tea.”

Peter’s ears suddenly felt hot. You had gotten tea just for him. Or maybe you were just a really good hostess and kept some around for all of your visitors. Probably the second option, he thought.

“Are you even allowed to have one of those?” he asked as the two of you waited for the water to boil.

“No,” you laughed, sitting next to him on your bed. For someone with so much space to themselves, you really needed to invest in more places to sit. “But you can’t have candles or fairy lights either, so I guess I’m just a rule breaker.”

“Guess I’ll just have to report you to the RA,” Peter teased, getting up to make himself a cup of earl grey. “Do you have any sugar?”

“Top drawer on the right,” you replied. “Do you have a sweet tooth?”

“Yes.” You watched as his lips blew on the tea to cool it down before remembering that it was weird to stare.

“You should let me bake something for you. What’s your favorite dessert?” You were kicking your dangling legs, suddenly feeling a lot more awake than this morning.

“Chocolate cake. With chocolate frosting,” he said in between sips, walking back over to you. With you on the tall bed and him standing, your faces were level with each other.

“I’ll have to make you one to thank you,” you smiled, peering into his eyes. Peter felt your heartbeat quicken, and the grin on your face as you stared at each other made him weak in the knees.

“Can I get those notes?” you asked, making him remember that people don’t just look at each other and say nothing like that.

“Oh! Yeah, definitely.” He quickly set the mug down on your nightstand to rummage through his backpack, flipping one of his notebooks open before handing it to you. “There are the ones from today, but all of the ones I’ve taken this semester are in there too.”

“Wow,” you laughed, making a worried expression form on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are they not good?”

“No, it’s not that. They’re just, uh, very thorough.” He had basically transcribed your professor’s lectures onto the pages. “You must write really fast. But thank you, Peter. I really appreciate it.”

Peter nodded before nervously gulping down the rest of his tea, not even noticing how hot the liquid still was as it nearly burned his throat.

“I should go now,” he started, looking around the room for his things. “I want you to get some rest, Y/N. Please.”

He had this look in his eyes that was so genuine—so full of care and concern—that it made you want to do whatever he asked you to.

“I’ll try,” you told him, awkwardly rubbing the top of your arm in the hopes that you could actually fall asleep after he left. “Have a nice day, Peter.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll stop by later,” he said, already halfway out the door. “For the notes, I mean! Uh, bye. Again. Okay. I’m going to go now.”

You giggled, giving him one last wave before he left. Like magic, the more you thought about how Peter was worried about you, the easier it was for you to drift off into a peaceful sleep, finally feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.

----------------

You woke up later that day to Peter knocking on your door, this time standing next to some guy in a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt.

“Hi, Y/N,” Peter greeted you. You looked a lot less tired than when he saw you this morning, which relieved him. “This is my roommate, Ned. He just wanted to know who I’ve been hanging out with, so I hope it’s okay that I brought him here to prove you’re real and not a figment of my imagination.”

Ned leaned closer to you, your hair still a little messy from your nap. “Blink twice if he’s paying you,” he whispered, causing you to giggle. Peter looked on nervously, unsure of what his best friend had just said to you.

“What did you say!?” he asked, lightly pushing Ned on the arm, knowing that it was probably something meant to embarrass him.

“Ow! Okay, now I’m really not telling you,” Ned replied, rubbing the spot where Peter had just hit him.

“Y/N, what did Ned say to you?” He turned to you, a worried look on his face as you and Ned held back your laughter. Peter’s face turned as red as a tomato, making you instantly feel a little bit bad.

“It was nothing, Peter. Really,” you said, pulling him into the room with you. “It was nice to meet you, Ned. I’ll make sure he’s back before curfew.”

Ned laughed, offering a quick thumbs up and mouthing “I like her” to Peter before you shut the door on him.

“I knew that was a mistake,” Peter sighed, his back against the door. You were still a bit giddy from the exchange, giggling softly as he slowed his breathing.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed around me,” you reassured him. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s just that…”

“What?” You could barely hear him as his voice trailed off.

“Well, uh, not all of my friends are, you know…”

“Spit it out, Peter,” you said, leaning closer so that you could hear him better.

“They’re not as pretty as you,” he muttered, making you blush at his words. Did he really think you were pretty?

“Oh. Thanks,” you smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Peter lifted his head up, relieved that you didn’t think he was a creep or something.

“Your notebook’s on my desk,” you continued, stepping back a little to give him some space. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the distance between you and him grew. “I just took a bunch of pictures, so I can look at them on my computer whenever.”

“Alright, awesome,” he said, walking over to collect it before turning back to you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well, actually. The best I’ve slept in a while. I think you’re some kind of good luck charm.”

“Really?” he asked, a little surprised that he had been helpful.

“Really. You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe it’d be nice if we hung out somewhere that wasn’t my room all the time,” you said, a hopeful look in your eyes. “If you want.”

Peter had never noticed it before, but the two of you really did spend most of your time together in your room. It really was a nice room, but it made sense that you’d want to get out of it every once and a while.

“I’d like that. What did you have in mind?” Play it cool, Parker, he told himself. You can freak out with Ned later.

“How about ice cream on Friday?” you suggested, which came as a bit of a surprise to him.

“In the middle of winter?” As far as Peter could remember, you were always cold.

“Yeah. I really love ice cream,” you added, smiling up at him.

“Okay, then. Ice cream it is,” he agreed. There was absolutely no way he could ever say no to you when you looked at him like that.

----------------

“May! No, it’s not a date. She’s just a friend. Yeah, I got it. Open the door, pay for her, don’t be an idiot!” Peter sighed into his phone, hoping his aunt’s unwarranted crash course on first dates would be over soon. “Yes, I’m wearing the green sweater. Thanks, love you. Bye!”

“I have no idea who told her I had a date tonight,” he groaned, slumping down onto the couch next to his best friend.

“I texted her,” Ned replied nonchalantly, not even looking away from whatever video game he was playing. “Knew you’d need some kind of pointers. Y/N is way out of your league.”

“Hey!” Was he right? Yes. Did Peter need to be reminded of it right before his not-a-date date with you? Definitely not.

“Come on, you know I’m right. It’s Liz Allan all over again. I have no idea how you keep pulling all of these pretty girls, but hey, credit where credit is due.”

“You’re so mean.”

“I keep it real and you love it. Good luck, man.”

“Bye,” Peter grumbled, slipping on his coat and walking out of their room. Four flights of stairs later, he was at your door.

“Hi!” you squeaked, wrapping your arms around him. This was the first time the two of you had ever hugged and Peter was not going to forget about it anytime soon. “Come in. I have a surprise for you!”

“Here,” you continued, holding out a blue and white beanie for him. “I made it for you. To match all those blue sweaters you wear all the time.” Except this time, he was wearing a forest green one, which brought out the slight hazel tinge in his eyes.

“You made this for me?” he asked, eyeing the different stitches you had used and fiddling with the pom-pom on top. It looked store-bought.

“Well, yeah, silly. I just said that,” you replied, hoping that he liked it. With all the time you didn’t sleep, you were knitting anyway, but this was a special present for him. “Try it on.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” he sighed, pulling the hat onto his head. He looked really cute, the ends of his wavy hair peeking out from underneath the brim.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, pulling him out of your room and towards the front of the dorm building. “Getting to hang out with you is good enough for me.”

“Where’d you learn how to knit?” Peter questioned, walking alongside you on the snow-lined sidewalks. With how cold it was, and considering he didn’t have a hood on his coat, it seemed like perfect timing that you had given him a hat.

“My grandma taught me,” you shared, taking in the twinkling of the streetlamps and how they bounced against the snow. In New York, that was practically the closest you could get to stargazing. “My, uh, grandparents actually raised me.”

“Oh. I was raised by my aunt and uncle,” Peter confided. It made you feel not so alone to find out that he didn’t grow up with his parents either, even though you knew firsthand just how hard it was.

“Do they live around here?” you asked, stealing glances at him and how rosy his cheeks were in the cold air.

“Yeah, my aunt lives in Queens,” he told you, staring at his feet to both avoid eye contact and make sure neither of you accidentally slipped. Not that he wouldn’t catch you, but he wanted to be safe. “My uncle actually passed away a couple of years ago.”

You stopped walking, immediately feeling a sense of regret. “I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. There was no way for you to have known that,” Peter reassured you, his warm breath coming out in clouds, and he reached for your hand to run his thumb across your knuckles. He gently pulled you along, keeping you from dying of embarrassment in the middle of campus.

“What about you? Are you from around here?” he asked, hoping to break the silence and make you feel a little bit better.

“No, I just moved up here for college. I grew up in Texas but moved to North Carolina when I was 13, so I finished school down there,” you explained, Peter suddenly noticing a slight Southern twang to your voice. “I just really wanted to go to school in a big city and not next to a farm for once in my life.”

“That makes sense,” he laughed, wondering what it would be like to live somewhere else. “I’ve only ever lived in New York City.”

“Do you like it here?”

“I love it. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, to be honest.”

“Me either,” you sighed, squeezing his hand tighter as the two of you enjoyed your walk in the snow.

It seemed like forever before you reached the ice cream shop, but you didn’t mind. That just gave you and Peter more time to get to know each other better. Turns out you both competed in academic decathlons, although you were more of a math person and he preferred science.

“Okay, you’re wrong. Night at the Museum 2 is so much better than the first one. I mean that kiss between Ben Stiller and Amy Adams? The Jonas Brothers as little cherub angels? Name one thing from the original that tops that,” you ranted in between spoonfuls of peppermint ice cream.

“I just really like when the little cowboy and gladiator are driving that toy car around,” he reasoned, subtly admitting defeat.

“Don’t even get me started on why the second Shrek movie—”

You were interrupted by the sound of Peter’s phone ringing, and you immediately recognized his ringtone as the Coconut Mall theme from Mario Kart. He peered down at his phone screen, sighing and mouthing an apology to you as he accepted the call.

“Uh, hey, Mr. Stark. Did you need something?” Well, at least you knew he wasn’t lying about his internship at Stark Industries. “Toronto? Tonight? I’m kind of busy.”

There was a long pause as Peter mentally kicked himself for talking back to Tony, resulting in an earful about how being an Avenger should always be at the top of his priorities.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll be right over… but I need a favor. Could you send Happy to pick my friend up? Yeah, it’s the ice cream shop on 1st. Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. Bye.” He frowned at you, and you could tell from what you had heard that he had to go.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s just, something came up last minute and Mr. Stark really needs me to go on this business trip with him,” he apologized, pulling his coat on. “But, uh, he’s sending a car for you. So don’t worry about walking back alone, alright? I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get back, okay? Bye!”

“Oh, okay. Bye!” you managed to call out before he was running out the doors and down the street. Lots of customers were staring as you awkwardly gathered your things and went to go wait on the sidewalk.

A few minutes later, a shiny black car had pulled up to the curb in front of you, a man rolling down the window.

“Miss Y/N? I’m Happy Hogan. Mr. Stark sent me to drive you home,” he called from the driver’s seat, before getting out to open your door for you. You stepped in, a little starstruck at how nice the car was. You had never been in anything this expensive before.

The two of you were sitting in silence until you finally got the courage to speak up.

“Mr. Hogan,” you started, causing him to turn down the smooth jazz that had been playing on the radio. “Do you know why Peter has to go to Toronto?”

“Yes,” he replied, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “But I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh, okay,” you accepted, shifting to look out the window at all of the places in the city that you hadn’t yet gotten the chance to explore.

Eventually, he was dropping you off in front of your dorm, and you were trudging inside to your room to sulk about how your not-a-date date with Peter had gotten interrupted. You stared at your ceiling all night, wondering when the next time you’d see each other would be, and whether or not he’d come back with the same cuts and bruises as when you had first met.

----------------

Peter had been gone for six days and counting, and you were starting to worry that he might never come back. You had already started missing him the night he left, and now it was just some agonizing waiting game for him to return.

You must have spent hours in the basement kitchen before deciding to visit the fourth floor where Peter lived. You knocked on the door and was quickly met with Ned’s shocked expression.

“Uh, hi, Y/N. Peter’s not here right now. Did you need something?”

“I know,” you acknowledged, holding up the plate in your hand. “It’s just, well, I’ve been baking a lot and I didn’t really know who to give all of these cookies to, so I was wondering if you wanted any.”

“Oh, in that case, sign me up!” You watched as his face lit up as he noticed the assortment of chocolate chip, sugar, and snickerdoodle cookies all still warm from the oven. He offered his hands out to take the plate from you, which you happily relinquished.

“These are really good,” he complimented, his mouth full of a sugar cookie. “Can I keep the rest of them?”

“Yeah, of course,” you answered, doing your best to smile despite how much you wished it had been Peter opening the door. “I’ll see you around, Ned.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he called out to you, making you turn around on the stairwell. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Peter’s going to be back any day now.” You nodded, offering him a wave and walking back down to your room.

Turns out Ned had been right. The strange noises outside of your window were masked by how loud you were jamming out to We Didn’t Start the Fire by Billy Joel, jumping around and listing off the lyrics that had never made much sense to you. Peter knocked louder on the glass, startling you as you quickly switched off the music to investigate.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, squinting your eyes to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. “Spider-Man? Is that really you?”

You fumbled to push up your window, extremely confused as to why one of the Avengers was outside your bedroom this late at night.

“It’s me, Y/N,” he explained, his voice suddenly becoming extremely familiar. Your eyes widened as you realized who was behind the mask.

“Oh my god! PETER?” you screamed as he slipped through the window, pulling off his mask and clapping a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t freak out. It’s okay. It’s just me, okay?” he stammered in an attempt to get you to calm down before an RA heard. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really wanted to tell you, but we were in public when I left, and I couldn’t risk it. And I didn’t want to text it or do it over the phone because it’s kind of a big deal, so I figured I’d just come to see you as soon as I got back and Mr. Stark said that you have to promise—”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into the very weird material of his spider-suit. “I won’t tell anybody.”

He softened under your touch, resting his head on top of yours. “I like your dance moves,” he whispered, making you glare up at him, your face suddenly very red.

“How long were you watching?” you groaned, dramatically throwing yourself onto your bean bag, your face covered by your hands.

“Only for about a minute,” he answered, pulling your hands down so you could see him grinning at you. “I especially liked how you used your hairbrush as a microphone. Plus, I thought we agreed to stop being embarrassed around each other?”

“Well, that was before I knew you were freaking Spider-Man!”

“Okay, fair enough,” he agreed, nudging you to scoot over and make room for him.

“So, that’s what that whole Toronto thing was?” you asked as he sat next to you, your knee touching his.

“Yep. There was this thing about aliens and these guys that could shapeshift. It’s a lot to explain.”

“Are you going to keep that thing on all night?” you asked, gesturing at his outfit, which was very tight and very distracting from whatever alien story he had to tell.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” he shrugged. “I don’t have anything on underneath it.”

“How scandalous,” you teased. “Not so family-friendly after all, huh, Spidey?”

“Oh, shut up,” he quipped, rolling his eyes as you let out a long yawn.

“Have you been sleeping much?” he continued, suddenly remembering the issue that had brought the two of you together in the first place.

“Of course not. I’ve been too busy worrying about my classes and, oh, just some idiot I know that abandoned me in the middle of an ice cream shop. Pretty sure he said he’d make that up to me, by the way.”

“Okay, okay. Message received. What would you like?” Please say a kiss. Please say a kiss. Please say a—

“Can I meet them? The Avengers, I mean. It’s not like anyone else really has a secret identity except for you.”

“Oh. I mean, I’d have to ask Mr. Stark and the rest of the team and see if they’re cool with it, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Awesome! You’re the best,” you chimed, wrapping your arms around him and planting a kiss on his cheek.

It was then that Peter decided he would just never be able to wash that side of his face again, his heart nearly skipping a beat.

“Peter,” you said, breaking the silence he had left the two of you in. “I’m tired.”

“Me too,” he sighed. “I should head up to my room. Gotta make sure Ned knows I’m still alive.”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, standing up to see him out. “Aren’t you worried somebody will see you, though?”

“Y/N, it’s 4 a.m. I’m pretty sure that you and I are the only people on campus that are awake right now.”

“Oh, right. Still, be careful, okay?” you told him, slightly worried at his secret identity being found out by some college kid that just couldn’t stay off Twitter.

“Will do,” he said, smiling and giving you a little salute before leaving.

----------------

A few days later, before you could even greet him, Peter was already walking into your room. It was 10 p.m., a little earlier than when he usually came over, but by now you were used to him showing up at your door unannounced.

He was already wearing his pajamas, a t-shirt with a science pun and some flannel pants that he had invested in to avoid any more awkward moments between the two of you. You were dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt, the clothes you usually threw on after class just in case you fell asleep on accident. There had been more times where you had woken up sweaty with your jeans stuck to your legs than you were willing to admit.

“Okay, so I asked Mr. Stark about your request and he told me he doesn’t think now is a good time, but…” he grinned, holding out a giant cardboard box with some kind of minimalist home appliance on the front for you to look at.

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” you blinked back, trying to figure out what the hell you were staring at, considering that all of the text written on it was in a language you didn’t know how to read.

“It’s some fancy white noise machine from Japan. If I remember correctly, Mr. Stark said he made Pepper order it because I wouldn’t shut up about you, and it would be in everybody’s best interest if you got some sleep, so I could stop annoying him and the rest of the team.”

“Oh. That’s pretty thoughtful, I guess,” you said, gathering things off your floor to make space for it.

He set the box down on your rug and got to work opening it. Meanwhile, you were busy translating what exactly Tony Stark had so generously gifted to you.

“Peter, wait. This thing is like $300. Doesn’t he know that you can just look up whale noises on YouTube for free?”

“Yeah, but this one adjusts its volume based on the noises around it, has a light that simulates the sun rising, and has an alarm noise that’s supposed to support healthy cortisol levels.”

Peter peered up to see your arms crossed and brows furrowed, it suddenly becoming clear to him that the things he had just listed meant very little to you.

“Plus, he’s a literal billionaire, so I don’t think it was that big of a loss for him,” he added.

“Fine. Let’s just hope this thing works,” you sighed, watching as Peter leafed through the instruction manual before tossing it behind him. “It’s a little early to go to sleep, though.”

“Y/N, plenty of people go to sleep at 10. Not everybody is nocturnal like you.”

“I guess you have a point,” you agreed, kneeling down beside him as he fiddled with all the settings.

“I know,” he said with a smirk as you rested your chin on his shoulder to get a better look at what he was doing. “What time do you want to wake up? 7 a.m. would give us time to go get breakfast before class, but we could do 8 if you wanted to sleep in.”

“We?” you mused, liking the sound of that. “I guess that means you’re staying here tonight?”

“Well, yeah. I’m not letting you have all these overpriced rainforest noises to yourself.”

“Do 7. We can go get those blueberry muffins that you like,” you decided, standing up to get Peter’s makeshift bed on your bean bag ready. “Do you actually like sleeping on this thing, or were you just trying to be polite the first time I asked?”

“Dude, that thing is awesome. It’s like I’m on this little cuddly cloud, and then you add all those warm blankets and the twinkly lights and it’s the perfect recipe for me to fall asleep.”

“Wow,” you nodded, looking around your room to see all of the things that Peter was talking about. “I wish it worked that way for me.”

“Maybe it will, tonight.”

It didn’t. You were tossing and turning for nearly an hour to the agonizing sounds of birds cawing and the occasional monkey chatter, all set against the backdrop of a heavy thunderstorm. To be honest, it was something that would’ve given you nightmares when you were little.

“Y/N?” Peter whispered from the floor. “Are you sleeping?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

“Could you turn that thing off? It’s really distracting me.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, leaning over to switch the noise machine off. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

He hesitated, not really sure if he should ask the question that he had been thinking about for a while now. “How old were you when your parents died?”

You had to think for a moment, not really sure about the answer. For as long as you could remember, you just lived with your grandparents. “Um, well my mom left when I was a baby. And I think my dad passed away when I was four.”

“Oh,” Peter mumbled. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a parent leave you, but he didn’t want to pry just in case it was a sensitive topic. “Are your grandparents from your mom or dad’s side?”

You rolled over to rest your head on the edge of your bed so that you could see him better. He looked so cute bundled up in all of your blankets, his hair already a bit messy. “They’re my mom’s parents. It’s weird. I see a lot of pictures of her from when she was growing up, and I look so much like her, but she’s basically a stranger to me.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something else, but there was a long pause and he decided not to.

“What about you? How old were you when your parents passed away?”

“Five or six. They met while working at the C.I.A. together, but most of my memories are from the stories my aunt and uncle told me when I was growing up.”

For a moment, neither of you could find the right words to say to each other.

“Peter,” you spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m really glad I met you.”

“I’m really glad I met you too.”

----------------

Peter’s next plan of action involved even more advice from his fellow Avengers, and you were not looking forward to trying out any of their suggestions.

“Okay, so, Steve—I mean Captain America—said that when he was little, you know, in the 1940s, all he had to do was drink a glass of warm milk before bed.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” you groaned, crossing your arms.

“I just saw you eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s in one sitting the other day.”

“Regular milk has almost 15 times more lactose than ice cream. You’d think a science nerd like you would know that.”

“I’m a geek,” he scoffed, clearly a little bit offended. “Not a nerd.”

“Yeah, I can see that now. It’s okay, though. At least you’re pretty,” you said, pinching his cheek.

“Just try it,” he grumbled, handing you the warm glass and waiting impatiently for you to take a sip. If anything, the milk did a better job at keeping you up that night than putting you to sleep. Not even thirty minutes after you had gone to bed, you were feeling sick to your stomach.

“I hate milk,” you gagged, Peter holding your hair back as you kneeled over the toilet bowl. “My grandpa could never get me to drink it as a kid.”

“Is that why you’re so short?” he laughed, helping you up. You glared at him as you moved to the sink to wash the acidic taste out of your mouth.

“Shut up, Parker,” you quipped, tired and grumpy from how terrible you felt. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”

“Alright, munchkin,” he smiled, pulling you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed.

Somehow, the warm milk wasn’t even the worst of Peter’s ideas, because a few days later, he was standing at your door with a bottle of some Asgardian sleep aid from the lightning god himself.

“Are you sure this is safe for me to drink?” you asked, your eyes widening as you stared at the silvery liquid that was almost shimmering.

“Uh, I’m about 87% confident you’ll live,” he said, “But I’m 100% sure that it’ll work.”

“Gee, thanks. Now I really want to drink this weird alien potion,” you sighed, looking at him nervously.

“Just drink a little bit and see if you feel anything,” Peter encouraged, leaning over your shoulder. You nodded, hesitantly bringing the drink up to your lips to take a sip.

“This stuff tastes amazing,” you mused, taking a bigger gulp this time. “Like a blue raspberry slushie.”

“Whoa, that’s enough,” he warned, taking the bottle from your hands before you could drink any more of it. “We don’t want you to go into a coma.”

“I don’t feel anything,” you shrugged, frowning back at him. “Maybe I should—”

You stopped mid-sentence to let out a loud yawn, the potion starting to take effect. Peter caught you as you slumped down in your chair, helping you into bed.

“Okay. I definitely feel it now,” you admitted, already half asleep. Peter tucked you under your blankets, placing a kiss on your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispered, turning off your lights and softly closing the door behind him.

For a moment, Peter had thought he had finally found a solution to your insomnia. At least before you slept through class the next morning. And then the day after that. But it wasn’t until the third day that he really started to freak out.

“Where’s Thor!?” he panted, having run all the way from his class over to the Avengers Tower. Wanda and Vision stared back at him from the kitchen, very confused at what he was so panicked about.

“He’s in his room,” Bucky called from the couch, his mouth full of popcorn as 13 Going on 30 played on the big screen. “What’s going on, kid?”

“No time to explain. Gotta go!” Peter called, sprinting up the stairs towards Thor’s room. He knocked frantically until the door finally swung open.

“Greetings, young Spiderling. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Thor smiled, his long, golden hair shiny as ever.

“I think I killed my almost-girlfriend!” Peter blurted out, practically sweating from how stressed out he was. “She drank that stuff you gave me and she hasn’t woken up in three days now!”

Thor chuckled, patting Peter on the head. “Do not worry, my brother. I’m sure she will wake up given time. It was a very potent drink, after all. Calm yourself.”

“Okay,” he sighed, relieved to know that he hadn’t poisoned you to death. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. She’s fine. Everything’s fine. Thanks, man. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.”

“Farewell, Peter. May we meet again soon,” he grinned before closing the door in Peter’s face.

On the way back down the stairs, Peter figured he’d give you a call and see if you were still sleeping.

“Hello?” you groaned, your throat dry from just waking up. “Peter, what the hell happened to me?”

“THANK GOD YOU’RE ALIVE!” Peter yelled into the phone, making you recoil from the volume of his excitement. “You’ve been asleep for three days, Y/N. I thought you were dead.”

“I am very much alive,” you laughed, slowly feeling the potion wearing off. “Where are you?”

“Uh. I may have run all the way to Midtown to ask Thor if I had killed you,” he admitted, feeling you roll your eyes through the screen. “I was worried, okay?”

“Now you know how I feel whenever you leave for a mission,” you countered, glad that Peter couldn’t see how much you were blushing. “Hurry up and get your butt back over here. I have the weirdest dream to tell you about.”

----------------

Even if you still weren’t getting a full eight hours of rest at night, it was obvious that all of Peter’s efforts had vastly improved your sleep schedule. Over the past few months, you had gone from staring at your ceiling all night to actually being able to stay asleep for small periods of time.

“Your eyelashes are so long,” you mused, playing with Peter’s hair. He was sitting in between your legs and How the Grinch Stole Christmas was playing on your TV.

“Really?” He tilted his head back to look at you, batting his eyelashes and making you giggle.

“Yes. It’s not fair that boys get all of the pretty eyelashes,” you pouted, watching as the Grinch explained his plan to steal all of Whoville’s presents to his dog.

“I think yours are pretty,” he replied, a soft smile on his face. “But there’s a rogue one just hanging out on your face right now.”

“Can you get it?” you asked, your eyes still glued on the TV screen. Peter nodded, twisting around to gently brush the eyelash from your cheek.

“Do you want to make a wish?” he laughed, holding the little eyelash on the tip of his finger in front of you.

“Okay,” you agreed, squeezing your eyes shut and blowing it away. When you opened them, Peter’s face was only inches away from yours.

“What did you wish for?” His gaze shifted downwards to look at your lips for a split second, before returning to look into your eyes.

“I can’t tell you, dummy. Then it won’t come true.” You weren’t about to tell your best friend that you wished for him to kiss you. At least not now, while the two of you were stuck in this really weird “not dating, but more than just friends” limbo.

“Fine,” he frowned, crossing his arms and pouting in a way that you recognized had been mimicked after you.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you said, mirroring his stance. Your puppy dog eyes were definitely a lot more convincing than his.

“I’m not.”

“Uh-huh, sure. You smell really good, by the way. Well, your hoodie does. I could just wrap myself up in it and fall asleep.”

“How come you’ve never mentioned that before? You could’ve been out cold every night months ago!”

“Guess I was just too distracted by your dreamy face,” you teased, causing Peter to blush.

“Whatever. Seriously, though. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I think it took me a while to realize how sleepy I got whenever you were really close to me,” you shrugged. “You’re not mad at me, right?”

“Of course not. But if I had known sooner I would’ve just given you one,” he said, slipping the hoodie over his head and handing it to you. “Here, put it on. You better fall asleep instantly or I’m calling bullshit.”

“You caught me, Peter. This was all some elaborate plan for me to steal one of your hoodies.”

“Just put it on. The suspense is killing me.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his hoodie on. Just from looking at Peter and how slim he was, you never would have guessed that it would be this oversized on you.

“How do I look?” you asked, striking silly poses in front of him. Peter involuntarily licked his lips and he knew he’d be replaying this image of you in his head for the next few weeks.

“You’re going to have to keep that,” he stammered, doing his best to hide how much he really liked seeing you in his clothes. “It looks a lot better on you. I, um, have to go do my homework. And call my aunt. And walk my roommate.”

Peter stumbled to his feet, staring at his wristwatch to maintain his act that he was late for something before grabbing his things and heading out the door, making sure to hold his backpack in front of him. “Let me know if the hoodie thing works. Bye!”

----------------

Brushing off Peter’s strangely abrupt departure from last night, you nuzzled into your pillow, the warm morning light spilling through your curtains. Last night had probably been your best sleep in months, and you even got to wake up late since it was Saturday. Things probably couldn’t have gone any better.

Before you knew it, you were running up to Peter’s room and banging on his door. He opened the door on your fourth knock, right after Ned had chucked a pillow at him, and you were met with his sleepy eyes and messy hair.

“It worked!” you yelped in excitement, twirling around and still wearing his hoodie. “Well, kind of. I fell asleep after about an hour, and then I slept for maybe three after that. But I had to pee in the middle of the night, and when I got back into bed I couldn’t fall back asleep until 6 a.m.”

“That’s some good progress,” he yawned, stepping out into the hallway to keep your little celebration from bothering Ned too much. “If only we could get you to sleep the entire night.”

“I know right. But I’m so happy!” you cheered, wrapping your arms around him. “We finally did something right!”

“We need to celebrate!” you continued, grabbing Peter’s hand and dragging him down the stairs. “Come on. We’re making you a chocolate cake!”

You stopped by your room on the way to the kitchen, piling a bunch of ingredients into Peter’s arms from your mini-fridge and various shelves.

“Okay, eggs, flour, butter, sugar, chocolate. Damn it. We’re all out of milk.” You side-eyed him, remembering the whole Captain America induced fiasco from a couple weeks ago.

“I think we might have some in our room,” Peter laughed. “Ned drinks a lot of milk mixed with Milo powder. It’s some obsession he picked up when his family took a vacation to Australia. I’ll go get it.”

He set all of the ingredients you had given him on your desk and sprinted back up the stairs to raid Ned’s stash, already thinking of ways to apologize for it later.

A few minutes later he was knocking on your door, out of breath, and dressed to brave the many inches of snow that had fallen overnight.

“We didn’t have any milk,” he panted. “But I can run to the dining hall and get a few cartons.”

“I’ll go with you.” You quickly pulled on your snow boots and layered your puffer coat on top of Peter’s hoodie, wrapping a hand-knit scarf around your neck just to be safe. “All ready.”

Getting the milk was the easy part. Making sure you didn’t die of frostbite was another story. By the time you and Peter got back to your room, your nose was super red and you couldn’t feel your toes.

“Okay,” you said, your teeth chattering. “I thought I was used to the snow by now, but that was something else.” You dropped your coat on the ground and climbed into your bed, burying yourself under your comforter.

“I thought we were making a cake,” he laughed, walking over to see you peeking out of the pile.

“Cake will have to wait,” you whined, your voice slightly muffled by the blanket. “Come here. I need some of your body heat.”

“Okay,” he stuttered, kicking off his sneakers and climbing in beside you. He had sat on your bed a lot since the two of you met, but this was the first time that he was actually laying in it. You snuggled up to him, and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.

“This is nice,” you sighed, nuzzling your head into his chest. “Is this one of your superpowers? Spidey-warmth?” Peter let out a soft laugh. It was silly but true. Ever since the bite, he never really noticed how cold it was outside anymore.

“Y/N,” he whispered, tightening his grip around your waist. Your head was nestled underneath his chin, and he could smell the faint citrus scent of your shampoo. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, Pete?” you yawned, your eyelids heavy from how comfy Peter’s cuddles were.

“I love you.” He held his breath, nervously waiting for you to respond.

“I know,” you giggled, intertwining your legs. “Sometimes, you talk in your sleep. You’ve probably professed your love for me at least eight times by now.”

“Oh.” Peter had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that.

“Don’t worry. I love you, too,” you assured him, grinning and placing little kisses on his jawline. “I thought that was obvious.”

“Maybe you could make it a little more obvious,” he mumbled, his heartbeat getting quicker as you shifted up to kiss him on the lips, your hand running through his hair.

“I will,” you smiled, your forehead resting against his. “But after we take a nap, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter agreed, snuggling as close as he possibly could to you, never wanting to let go. In no time at all, he watched happily as you fell asleep in his arms, wondering how the two of you hadn’t thought of this sooner.

----------------

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omegaobeyme · 4 years ago

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I've been obsessed with Lady Gaga's, "Judas" Song...and it gave me an idea for a short Fic. A Devil's Angel Tags: PG13+, scene of violence/death, Angel/Human!MC, DiavoloxMc, Spoilers for lesson 16 Part 1/?

Diavolo was a glorified demon, rivaling strength to only 2 other realm leaders. Of course, if you asked any obedient servant of the throne, he was naturally the obvious winner. So what happens when you have all of the strength a being could dream of and more? You "make friends" apparently. There was no way this all-powerful man could be up to such a light-hearted task. Perhaps it was his butler, Barbatos, with such knowledge and time who guided Diavolo to urge such a conclusion. Had the green-haired demon known a war was to commence? Was Diavolo truly unfit to win such a battle, and therefore needed another way out? These questions filled your head as you stepped into your new dormitory. You were a human, just not too human entirely. Angels essence filled your being thanks to your ancestor, Lilith. You had even met Michael himself years back when her memories flooded yours as the angel essence was supposed to take you to heaven. Long story short, you were in a temporary coma after a car accident. Simeon shook you out of your head with a hand on your shoulder, "remember why you're here." He said, with the same smile he always gave. It was too suspicious for a soon-to-be demon lord to be asking for unity, and god wanted answers. This is where you came in: a seemingly innocent human whose in an extremely unique position to gain an advantage; and more importantly, knowledge. Solomon joined you for your first tea with Barbatos and Diavolo, time allowing. Knocking on the door, you were met with the tired eyes of the butler. "Welcome, over this way." Barbatos guided the pair of humans and you couldn't help but notice how unnervingly perfect this man was. It was as if a board has been placed against his back, perfectly aligning his spine starting at his hips, threaded through his neck. Finally, he motioned towards a satin couch placed within an openly lit common area, decorated with lavish antiques, artwork, and instruments. Solomon broke the silence, "Ah, Auguste Allaire?" "Indeed." The green-haired demon replied, understanding his question without having to look at the painting Solomon was referencing. "I would like to clarify this meeting is to get to know our human exchange students," He began lifting a tray off his serving cart, finished with matching teacups and plates for the both of us, "As humans, it's of upmost importan-" Doors burst open, featuring a particularly muscled demon prince. "Barbatos!" Diavolo smiled so wide his eyes managed to shut. Not only was his personality loud, his laugh was louder. "Sorry, sorry! I'm late, aren't I?" If you were embarrassed, you can imagine Barbatos' reaction in his own mind. He simply sat down and motioned for his Lord to follow suit. It was at this moment you thought it was a horrible prank you somehow got involved in. Months would pass, much like the meetings you had with the royals. During these moments you were allowed questions pre-approved by Simeon. "Why do you want to unite the realms?" and "What happened to the king?" All of which never satisfied any angels curiosity. It seemed for that you'd continue this way forever, until the day you knew of him. The sun gently glazed over your skin, sending shivers at the unexpected warmth of the devildom morning. Of course, it was Lucifer. "I know you better than to sleep in, MC." His gaze shifts to your own, as his back turns to face the now opened curtain of your room. "I'm sorry, I don't usually sleep in unless I'm sick." You weren't lying, it was unusual. "Oh? Perhaps it would be best for you to stay home. I'll have Satan take notes in your stead." Lucifer retorted, sparing you no opportunity to argue back. Then again...this would give you an opportunity to explore the house, especially to find anything Diavolo's "right hand man" might be keeping. Simply nodding, you rolled the covers over your head and set the alarm for another hour, knowing well a mostly human like yourself couldn't escape their well-trained eyes to watch them walk away. At 8 a.m, you awoke to find breakfast in a tightly-sealed container. However, hunger

could barely invade the anxiety creeping upon you. First in priority was making sure everyone was gone, no one in the kitchen, bedrooms, studies, or observatories. Now it was finally time...you took the steps towards Lucifer's room, each slower than the last. Lifting the back of your hand, you knock only to realize the door opening upon contact. The air was noticeably cooler, and his record player opened, as if suddenly stopped. You draw your attention towards his desk, the obvious choice. As you go through paperwork, you realize you can't find any, despite the mountains on his desk every night. Of course. They must've been brought to RAD along with his briefcase he brings every day. But there had to be something. Anything. Go through his bookshelves: nothing. Flip through his records: nothing. The closest lead you've got is a sticky-note in his book with a quote. You take off, looking for any other places he could possibly be storing such sensitive information, then it hit you: the upstairs. Lucifer had made it such a point to not venture upstairs, could he have been more oblivious of such a hint? Honestly, it was still scary to think about going up to an unknown part of the house, but you had no other choice. After checking the time, you begin making the climb only to find a hallway with one door. A loud bang comes from an unknown direction, and you flinch, thinking someone had come home. Then a low chuckle comes from the room in front of you, nearly taunting. Once you gather your emotions, you continue onward to face whatever lay in front of you, only to find a normal-looking human. "who-" "oh, are you the new playtoy?" he responds, "excuse me?" You step backwards, out of reach from his hands, "I don't know what you're talking about." His smile fades, "oh, you must be another human.." He's human, too? "I know what it looks like, but you're not safe here. Ask about Belphegor. Meet me again when it's safe. He's coming back." the blue-white haired male shrinks back into the darker area of the room, and before you can process, your feet run down to your room. Not too long after, a knock fills the empty air. The handle turns, and Satan makes his appearance visible. "Wow. You do look bad. Maybe you should get back to bed." you shake your head, attempting to mask the heartbeat in your chest. "No! No, I'm fine, I swear. What's in your hand?" attempting to avert his attention, you point to the notebook in his hand. "Oh, that. Well I came here to study with you since I heard you missed the day." Satan moved in towards your bed, laying the notebook on your bedstand and flipping to the nearest filled-in page. "Here's the theories we went over, and the elixir's following. I've already taken geography so I brought my old textbook to help, and then there's realm science." You hold your hand up for him to pause as you look over each notes. "Wait, Griffins horn? I thought it was powdered unicorn hoof." He smiles, "Nice catch. We go over it next semester, some things can be substituted for higher-grade materials depending on the molecular structure. If you take a look at..." Satan proceeds to take your mind off the previous situation for the next two hours. That is, until you get lost in thought. "MC? MC, snap out of-" "Who is Belphegor?" you interrupt, leaving him speechless. He clicks his tongue, hand on temple. Everytime he attempts to talk he groans in frustration. Panic settles upon your face unsure of what you had just asked. Had he just set you up? Was he another demon out to steal your soul? What will they do when they find out. "What do you know?" Satan manages to find words, "I-" you begin to lose yours. What does Belphegor mean? It seems like a name but what if- "You know what? I don't want to know. Keep it to yourself." He gets off from the edge of your bed and slams the door behind him. This wouldn't be the last time you heard of him, nor the last you saw. The next morning was eerie. You weren't dead, but..it somehow felt like it. No one came to let you know of breakfast, even after a few minutes of waiting. It

wasn't like you wanted to show your face either, you felt naked. When you did arrive, everyone at the table remained silent besides minimal conversations. Beelzebub no longer tried to steal your food, and Asmodeus wasn't trying to flirt with you. When Lucifer announced it was time to head to RAD, a weight had been lifted from the silence. After opening the door, you noticed another figure beside him. "Good morning, Mc. May I trouble you in taking you out of classes for another day?" Barbatos lightly tilted his head as his eyes looked upon your soul. "O-Of course." You took the hand provided, as he lead you to the castle. When you arrived, Barbatos told you to make yourself comfortable in the first living room. Before long, Diavolo appeared alongside him. "Mc! It's good to see you!" he beamed, arms opened for a hug. "And you as well, Diavolo." Quick to your feet, you met his courtesy. He brightened further when you returned his affection. "Do you by chance enjoy flowers?" Thinking back to the celestial realm, you nod. Taking your hand, he shows you to the garden out back. "Out of everything I was not expecting a garden.." "Really? What did you expect?" His arms crossed and he moved closer towards you, watching your expressions as you gathered your thoughts. "Well, for a demon, maybe stone statues or torture devices." He chuckles, shaking his head. "Is that what humans think now? Are we that cruel?" Diavolo jokes, until Barbatos chimes in, "Times have changed since young masters reign." as he finishes, you notice the plate of gourmet sandwiches prepared for the two of you, placed on a garden table not too far off. Together, you shared the next two hours together chatting alone. Without distractions clouding the brain, things seemed to appear as usual. The brothers began talking to you as normal, including Satan. Simeon hadn't brought up any information or lack thereof since the last meeting with Diavolo and Solomon. In fact, Diavolo seemed to be taking more time out of his schedule to spend with you alone, rather than the two human exchange students. It was nice, for a change; until you remembered what occurred with the Belphegor situation. "So, why did you ask me here in the first place?" Diavolo noticed your body language shifting for a few minutes now, but he knew something was coming at this point. "Today? Well, I enjoy the company of-" "No, Dia. When you first brought me to this garden." It couldn't be helped, you had now formed a friendship with Diavolo. He knew too much about you and how you truly acted when you were yourself, rather than the puppet an angel could use. Emotions conflicted, parts of you yearned to let loose, yet at the same time, what if it was all just an act? What if you had fallen right into his trap, and he knew all along? Just like the dictator Michael had expected. Putting his cup aside, he took a brief pause before answering. "Satan told me that day what had occurred. I thought it best to ensure my exchange student's --" Diavolo stopped as you stood up, allowing your exit. "Tired. So fucking tired." You thought to yourself as you made your way home to the house of Lamentation. Of course, not only did the oh-so-friendly prince take you out of classes once a week, he adjusted your course schedule to reflect such changes. All you could think was how pathetic you are for allowing this to happen under your watch. You never felt fit for this job, but never more so in this moment. Hesitation couldn't be found as you made your way up the stairs into the room. "You're back. Angry. Cat got your tongue?" He was obviously trying to rile you up and it was working. "So who is Belphegor? Are you trying to get me killed?" At this point, he bursts out laughing, "you think this is funny?!" you scream out. "Very." He stops, looking directly into your eyes. "And you're only helping me escape. How about I tell you a secret? I'm not even a human. I know you understand that by now, but I'm Belphegor, the last brother. And you just helped me escape." Before you knew it, hands wrapped around your neck. It was

gentle enough to find release, running downstairs and towards the front door. It was always apparent there was risks, but that's why you had the angels blessing! So why are you so close to death?? Before you could turn the handle, it moves itself. Belphie takes the chance to knock you off your feet, immobilizing you and landing you upon your back. The door opens as Belphegor protrudes claws into your most vital organ, and cold rushes over you, processing the last visuals of Lucifer's shock with Diavolo behind him. "Open your eyes." You wince. He's on top of you, how could you look? There's no way a human could escape the wrath of a demon. "Did you forget about me?" the voice echoes. What? Opening your eyes, you find nothing but white space. Suddenly, a door appears in front of your body. "Don't waste it. And don't forget where you came from." Lilith? There's no way...but then, this couldn't be a dream. It felt too real. On the other side of the doorframe was your last visual before you died, from another perspective. Glimpses flash from her own memories as it floods into your own.. in a flash, your perspective of yourself and the brothers around you changes. You could see the door Lucifer held opening in mere seconds. He froze, in shock of seeing Belphegor out. What's more, the man behind him couldn't see. The red haired demon pushed through, to find the worst fate. Immediately transforming, he flies to your dead body's side. Anger wouldn't be enough to describe what you witnessed in his eyes, nor the grief he was going through. This wasn't normal. Nothing in your body felt that what you were watching was normal. A king's priority should be on subduing Belphegor, and here he was at your deceased version's side. Suddenly, Belphegor's words filled the air. "DON'T FUCKING DARE, FOR THEM? HAHAHA!" You've never heard such a deranged laugh before. Lucifer's eyes opened even further upon processing what Diavolo was accomplishing. Tears couldn't be found in Diavolo's face, he was far beyond it. Whatever was happening, Belphegor didn't dare interrupt. "L-Lord Diavolo, you can't sacrifice yourself for-" Diavolo paid no mind to his right hand mans attempt at stopping him, taking a deep inhale, hands at his horns. "I apologize mother, but I can assure you I won't be wasting your gift." time slows further as Diavolo begins to pull away at his horns. "STOP." Every head turns to look at you, including Diavolo. It wasn't until you died that it hit you. The moments before anyone realized you came back you saw his selfless actions for yourself.

#obey me lucifer #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fic #obey me diavolo #obey me fanfic #obey me mc #omswd #obey me swd

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bunny-hoodlum · 4 years ago

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Asynchronous With You: Ch 5

ship: naruhina

rating: teen (maybe mature later)

tags: Modern Day AU, Foster Siblings, Family, Angst, Unrequited Love, Poor Communication/Noncommunication, Found Family

summary: An awkward journey full of self-denial and missed moments between two foster siblings. Perhaps their love will find the right timing someday.

Neji met them outside the dorm gates. As generous as his dorm-mate Lee was, he couldn't ask him to step out for their sake.

They followed Neji to a nearby linear park that segregated the school grounds from the business park on the other side. It felt like a glass-less greenhouse, with polished granite beneath their feet and a vine-carpeted roof overhead. The benches were slabs of granite, as were the other fixtures, like an orb fountain in the center, with flawless skin of water running over its surface. The full trees muffled the night, with its crickets and distant chugging cars. The gentle, steady trickle contrasted against their footsteps, like two off-tempo drums and hers a mournful castanet.

Now that they were finally here, she was beginning to lose her nerve, she was forgetting what she had to complain about.

All that mattered was that she was healthy, right? All that mattered was that they were actually taking good care of her.

But the last thing she said to her, telling her to go home, saying that at least one of them should be loved by their parents, it began to eat at Hinata.

Could it be that she doesn't have any love to come home to?

Like resonance, her soul trembled and her ribs ached. The heel of her palm pressed against the skin between her wet eyes.

"I've become like them. I messed up."

The bench caught her before she could sink down to the ground.

"What're you talking about?" came Naruto's voice, barely reaching her ears.

"You mean Aunt and Uncle?"

Hinata nodded.

"What??" Naruto smacked his forehead rather hard. "How were you supposed to act?! They knew where you were! Nothing was stopping them from taking you guys back--"

"We don't know that." Hinata argued.

"Bullshit!"

"We don't," Her shoulders lifted, turning rigid. "They could barely take care of the two of us. It would've been the same if they had to take care of two daughters--"

"What about visits? What's so hard about keeping in touch?!"

She stayed silent. It wasn't that she hadn't considered that, it was that it was too upsetting to ruminate on any deeper.

"Ten years, Hinata. They had to have lied to her, right? Raised her believing she was an only child? C'mon, why aren't you angrier about this?!"

She wasn't sure if it was defiance that lifted her chin, but the eyes she chose to meet were Neji's as she implored him join in.

His eyes closed as he released a pensive sigh. "What's she like?"

"Don't change the subject," Naruto snapped. "Hinata needs to vent."

She prodded Neji with her stare. He shook his head.

"Who are you talking about?" Neji punctuated his rhetoric with a sidelong glance, causing Naruto to bristle. "This Hinata?"

"Yeah, this Hinata. Our Hinata. What the fuck, we've shared the same home for ten years! Hinata! You vent! You vented the other month about your-your shirt!" His face reddened as he brought up, perhaps, the worst example he possibly could.

"I was in a weird mood," Hinata said quickly, giving Naruto whiplash.

"A--A 'weird' mood?! What, like you just felt like messing with me kind of 'weird'??"

Hinata lamely shrugged her shoulders before curling in on herself like an armadillo. She could only imagine how exponential his irritation was to increase. She should've answered Neji's question right away instead of trying to convey her complaints to Neji, because now they were getting way off topic. Which was ironic for Naruto, who thought Neji was the one diverting attention away from her pain.

Neji pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what the story is, and I don't think I want to know."

"Good. 'Cuz I don't want to talk about it." Naruto huffed as he crossed his arms.

Silence lapsed around them. Somehow Hinata was rather surprised their arguing managed to fizzle out on its own and so quickly. The past was almost laughable in how different it was from the present.

'That's right. It's always going to be rocky at first, but it takes time to get used to one another.' This was proof that she and Hanabi could grow into sisters no matter how much time had been lost.

"Her name's Hanabi. Her favorite foods are bananas and milk, and she hates the herb mitsuba. She's cheerful, cheeky, and surprisingly athletic. And... I really want to get to know her better." The tears fell swifter and harder on her lap as she re-conjured the heartbroken betrayal she had put on Hanabi's face.

She really hoped it wasn't too late.

Neji joined her side and rubbed her back, while Naruto kept his distance.

Even though he had been given Neji's explicit blessing years before, somehow it didn't feel appropriate for him to console her too.

Looking at them now, it was like those two had never grown apart, not even a centimeter. And they had been communicating with their eyes, he was sure of it. Speaking around him, because he wasn't actually a part of this.

They're what real siblings look like.

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Taking the midnight train back home, Naruto spent the next thirty minutes absorbed in the things that amused him, from sexy two-minute shorts, to prank compilations and this one guy from Kaminari that totally bites at rapping. Absolutely no one, neither he nor his 745k followers know if he's a comedy channel where he's bad on purpose, or if he's just gotten popular for all the wrong reasons, but watching him never fails to inspire a deep gut-laugh from Naruto.

Because he wouldn't be laughing this hard if something was bothering him, especially not a whole host of somethings.

He ignored how arriving at their station didn't feel quite right, how following Hinata didn't feel normal.

He was surprised when she finally started talking to him, yet the weariness her voice instilled was not lost on him.

"Who was the first girl you liked?"

"Hm? Oh, guess that'd be Sakura-chan."

"I see. And how old were you when you knew?"

"Eight, I guess?"

"Eight," The number floated from her mouth in an amazed whisper, "Do you think somebody already likes Hanabi-chan?"

A blond brow perked up. "Is this that protective Onee-san instinct kicking in already?" When she giggled, his heart sank.

"I suppose it is."

And when the silence closed in on him again, he spoke up to keep it going. "Uh, what about you?"

Her steps faltered for a second, then picked up with an exaggerated bounce. "There's someone."

"Still? Like, ongoing?"

"Mmhm."

Naruto blinked rapidly, whiplash striking again. How? How did he not know his sister liked someone? "Since when?"

"Mmmm," She hummed that note a little too long that bordered on mocking him, and he was about to storm on ahead of her, until she said, "Third grade."

"What?!" Ineloquent as that was, he somehow expected her to answer him. He stood there as she traipsed away, waiting until he was finally fed up. "Well, who the fuck is it?!"

"Guess."

He jogged after her. "Kiba?" His mouth soured at the thought.

She crossed her forearms into an 'X', making the buzzer sound in game shows when the contestant got the answer wrong. "Bubuu."

"Shino?" He didn't know what to think about that if it were true. Guess they were both quiet and smart and a little weird. Is that what compatibility looks like?

"Bubuu," she went again.

What other guys was she in contact with?

Shikamaru was a good friend who came over to game sometimes, but he definitely didn't sense anything there. No, no way it could be him. And everyone was pretty sure Sai was asexual.

"Sasuke?" Why not? He was the school heartthrob nine years running. Didn't matter whether Naruto understood the taste of girls or not, they all wanted him. He kinda wishes he noticed sooner now, because he imagining a plain girl like her pining for someone unreachable and he really hates that for her. When she slows to a stop under the streetlamp, he thinks he's finally figured it out, though the truth ended up being really anticlimactic in the end.

She half-turns towards him, her face blank save for the edge of distaste clinging to the corners of her lips and eyes.

"Gross."

He reeled back. "Gross? Whaddya mean gross?" She continued on her way, forcing him to jog after her. "Hey, I can't believe you think he's gross! Are you just being a contrarian?" Her pace picked up faster. "Y'know, like what unpopular girls do when they can't fit in?"And faster. "You really think he's gross?" She was hurrying on ahead and he was trying to catch a glimpse of her face, just a little bit of veracity. "Hinata?!"

They arrived at the steps of their apartment.

"You have until graduation to guess!" She called over her shoulder as she ran ahead, her voice pitching high at the end.

She was upset.

Her footsteps resounded through the corridors like frantic clapping, but he wasn't being congratulated at all.

It was finally apparent to him that he hasn't paid attention to Hinata in a long, long time. That's why Neji was making fun of him.

He took the elevator to their apartment, and when he reached the hole between their bedrooms, he got down on both knees and crouched his spine. They haven't used this in years, he couldn't believe how small they used to be, this hole had to be over three feet from the floor. It was making his back hurt. "Hinata," He bit his tongue with a pause. "What happens if I can't guess by graduation?" Nothing. Just silence. "Hinata? Are you not going to talk to me anymore?"

"Yeah," If a ghost could croak, that's what it sounded like. "If you can't guess by graduation, I'm not going to talk to you anymore."

He palmed the wall as he drew to full height, then stepped away, neither urgency nor insult registering in his chest. He didn't know what was in there. Maybe nothing. He raised his voice a little, just enough so that she could hear.

"I'm going to take this another weird mood of yours, okay? There's no way you really mean that."

Hovering for half a second more, he didn't give her time to respond as he headed for his bed on the opposite side of the room.

Maybe Sakura had the right idea about family. Maybe it's better to just find your own.

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AN: Lel, I totally forgot to add the summary and ratings thing in the last chapter. 😜😅 Hope you liked this one!

#asynchronous with you fanfiction #naruhina #naruhina fanfiction #naruto x hinata #chapter 5 #modern au

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marvelslut16 · 5 years ago

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Even teachers can be stupid

Prompt number: 6 “that was impressive”

Fandom: Marvel

Paring: Chubby!Bucky x reader (teacher au)

Rating: T

Word count: 2.5k (this is a lot longer than I originally planned. Whoops.)

Warnings: Insecure Bucky/ self deprecation based on chub. Brock Rumlow being the grade a asshole that he is. Swearing.

A/N: I apparently only write for Bucky now, lmao. I think I liked this one more in my head.

Teaching high schoolers isn’t easy; trying to teach thirty plus rowdy students six times a day for forty-five minutes each is quite possibly the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life. As they say, the rewarding things are rarely easy. Each year you get one or two students that are truly affected by your teachings, inspiring them for life. And that makes all the late night grading and putting up with bad behavior worth it.

What helps you get through each painstakingly long day is the lunch break you share with your best friends, and fellow history teachers; Steve Rogers and James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Steve teaches U.S. history, Bucky teaches world history, and you teach civics. Some days you talk about your students, others you talk about some tv show one of you watched the night before, and sometimes you each ask advice on questions for the tests you're writing.

“Peter Parker was attempting to flirt with MJ in the middle of my class today,” Bucky shares, making the three of you laugh. Peter Parker and MJ are both extremely smart, taking all three of your guys’ classes. Peter’s adorable, but you’ve seen how bad his flirting can be when he was into another student Liz a few years back.

“Are we surprised he was flirting?” Steve cackles at his own joke before he can even finish it. “Tony is his mentor after all.”

You and Bucky join Steve in his laughter, you glance at the brunette admiring the way his smile lights up his whole face and the cute jiggle the little bit of gut he has does. You can feel Steve’s knowing smirk as he notices your lovestruck gaze, he’s been teasing you relentlessly for the past two years about the feelings you so obviously have for his childhood best friend.

“What are you doing this weekend, (Y/N/N)?” Bucky asks, but before you can respond someone cuts in.

“She’s gonna be with me this weekend, tubby,” Brock smirks cockily, stepping behind you and resting his hand on your shoulder.

“In your dreams Rumlow,” you grit out, removing his hand from your shoulder and scooting closer to Bucky.

Brock Rumlow; gym teacher, the office flirt per say, he grew up with Steve and Bucky in Brooklyn and bullied the blonde the entire time they’ve known each other, and overall grade A asshole. He also clearly doesn’t understand the word no, you’ve rejected him at least twenty times in the two years he’s worked here with you and yet he never leaves you alone.

“You’re already in them gorgeous,” he winks at you, Bucky’s hands curl into fists under the table. He’s fighting the urge to finally let go and punch Brock in the face, like he did countless times growing up when he’d pick on Steve.

“You’re revolting,” you glare at him, turning to face Bucky you smile warmly at him. “I’m probably just going to grade some papers, drink some wine and eat some ice cream. Why, what’s up?”

“I well,” he eyes Brock, who’s hovering just behind you. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out?”

“Like a date?” your eyes light up with hope, reaching forward you grasp his forearm.

“Yeah,” he smiles bashfully at the floor, before meeting your eyes again. “I was thinking Wanda’s on Saturday, I’ll meet you there at seven?”

“Perfect,” you beam at him, squeezing his arm lightly. “It’s a date.”

Bucky excuses himself not long after the interaction, needing to go make some copies before the next period. He gives your hand a quick squeeze with the parting words, “I’ll see you later, doll.” You grin like an idiot watching him leave the breakroom, Steve watching the both of you with a large grin.

“Well, that was impressive,” Brock takes Bucky’s recently abandoned seat, grabbing the legs of your chair and pulling you into his side. “I even believed you for a second, having the poor fat ass think you actually want to go out with him. You’re totally gonna stand him up, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” you stand from your seat, Brock’s hold on the chair keeping you from moving it away.

You create a fist with your hand, hiding it behind your back so Brock doesn’t see how much he riled you up. You absolutely hate how he speaks about Bucky, focusing his attention on the few pounds Bucky’s gained over the years you’ve known him. Admittedly Bucky did have abs when you met him, having done boxing almost his entire life, but work started to swamp him and he couldn’t make it to the gym like he used to putting a few pounds on. But you like the little bit of chub more than the abs, there’s something undeniably hot with his body, especially when he’s confident in it.

“You think Sam would give him some exercises to do or something,” Sam Wilson, another gym teacher and fellow friend.

The legs to Steve’s chair screech as he stands and gets ready to lunge across the circular table. You put your hand on Steve’s chest to keep him from doing something he’ll regret, or at least keep him from doing something that’ll get him arrested. You glance at the door to the breakroom thinking you hear footsteps in the hallway, but no ones there when you look.

“Shut the fuck up Rumlow,” both men’s eyes widen at you, you’re normally calm and collected when he pisses you off. The few teachers in the room with you watch on quietly, some in awe that you’re finally going to tell the asshole off, and the rest just happy that someone will finally knock Brock down a few pegs. “I can handle your constant flirting when I’ve asked you multiple times to leave me alone. But I won’t sit here and let you be an ass to James. He’s the sweetest, most considerate man I’ve ever met, and I won’t allow you to say what you want about him unchecked. He makes you feel small-”

“Yeah, cause his gut is so fucking huge,” he laughs, looking around the room to find a colleague to agree with him but no one does.

“Shut. Up. Rumlow.” with each word you take a menacing step towards him. “You’re an ass to him because you know he’s better than you in every way. He’s kind, smart, sweet, thoughtful, and handsome. Everything you aren’t. So fuck off and leave his name out of your mouth. Or next time I won’t hold Stevie back, in fact I’ll join him in beating your ass.”

You’re about to leave when you notice Bucky left his travel mug on the table, grabbing it you head to the social studies office. Upon arriving you see that the copies Bucky needed to get are sitting on his desk, which is beside yours, but there’s no Bucky in sight. You let out a small sigh, you wanted to see him one last time before class starts.

At the end of the day Bucky isn’t waiting in the office for you and Steve like normal, instead his bag and jacket are missing from his desk. Maybe he’s nervous about the date, you think to yourself. There’s no other reason he wouldn’t be waiting for you. You try texting him a few times the rest of the night, only to be met with radio silence. You text Steve and ask him if he's heard from Bucky, and apparently he’s only receiving one word answers.

The next day you start getting ready for your date at three in the afternoon, it’s way too early but you want to look perfect for him. You spend an hour and a half trying to figure out your hair, an hour on your makeup, and two hours trying on every single thing in your closet. You finally settle on a lace royal blue dress, it has a v-neck and cap sleeves. It’s Bucky’s favorite color.

You leave your house at six thirty, arriving at Wanda’s a little early. But you don’t care if you seem eager, because you are. You finally get to go out with James! Bucky’s never late, so when seven comes and goes and he’s not there you’re shocked. You sit at your table like a fool until eight-thirty, the hostess and your waiter giving you looks of pity. James stood you up.

You spend the rest of the weekend sulking and eating lots of ice cream. You fall further behind on your grading but you don’t care, Bucky hasn’t reached out to you. You refuse to text or call first, expecting him to call and apologize profusely and say there was some mix up. But he doesn’t and he won’t.

You arrive at work on Monday right before first period starts, you know it’s unprofessional but you don’t know if you can face Bucky yet. When third period rolls around, which you have off, you head to Steve’s room to talk to him. His students are taking a test that period, so you know he can step away. You lightly knock on the door, opening it so you’re half in the room and half in the hall.

“Sorry for interrupting you guys, you smile at his students who looked up from their test to see who was at the door. “I need to borrow Mr. Rogers for a minute.”

“Get back to work,” he tells his students, though his gaze remains on you. “And eyes on your own paper Flash.” You step back into the hall, Steve soon joining you and shutting the door so no nosey student can over hear.

“Have you talked to Bucky?” you ask him nervously.

“That’s why you pulled me out of class?” Steve lets out an exasperated sigh and leans on a set of lockers. “To talk about your date?”

“He stood me up Steve,” tears start to make their way to the surface, you thought you had cried all of your tears this weekend, but apparently not.

“What?” Steve’s in shock, he can’t believe that Bucky would do that. “There has to have been some mistake.”

“I looked like an idiot!” you whisper shout, mindful that Bucky’s classroom is next to Steve’s. “I was sitting there waiting for an hour and a half before the pity from the employees became too much to handle and I went home. He never called me, never texted. Stevie, I don't know what I did.”

The talking in Bucky’s classroom stops, footsteps growing near the door. Bucky opens it a crack, but you can’t bear seeing him so you stare at your feet and the gross linoleum under them. He tells his students to read ahead without him, stepping out and shutting his door behind him.

“I thought I heard voices out here, did you two need something?” Steve’s brows furrow at how cold Bucky’s being, he usually loves when you interrupt him and his class.

“No,” Steve says slowly, glancing between the two of you.

“Anyway, thanks for the help Steve,” you force a fake smile. “I should get back to the office and grade some papers I didn’t get to this weekend.”

“(Y/N/N)!” the blonde calls quietly after you, turning to Bucky with a small frown. “What the hell were you thinking standing her up?”

“I didn’t stand her up, she stood me up,” Bucky glares down at the tiles.

“What are you talking about?” Steve can’t make sense of the nonsense coming out of his best friend's mouth. “She waited over an hour for you to show, Buck. And you never did.”

“Why would she want to date me?” he gestures to himself, eyes lingering on his own gut. “I heard Rumlow say it was fake and she was going to stand me up.”

“And you believed that?” Steve lets out a humorless laugh. “She threatened to beat his ass for talking shit about you Buck. you need to fix this, she’s crushed.”

Steve walks back into his classroom, leaving Bucky alone in the hall with his racing thoughts. He has to make it up to you! How could he hurt you? How could he believe anything Rumlow said? This goes to show that even teachers can be stupid. You’re his best girl and he hurt you, how’s he supposed to make it up to you?

You and Steve sit quietly in the breakroom at lunch, he’s eating and you’re trying to make some headway in your grading. Bucky hasn’t come to lunch yet, you’d love to say you haven’t noticed, but you're painfully aware of the empty seat to your right, the one Bucky always occupies. You write a big fat C in red ink on the essay you just read, it should be a C- but Ned is a smart kid and you don’t want to drop his GPA even more because of one poorly written paper.

A body slumps in the chair beside you, you ignore it assuming it’s Brock. You don’t have the energy for him and his bullshit today. A cheesy heart shaped box of chocolates is set onto the essay you just started reading. You finally look up and see a frazzled looking Bucky in his seat, He’s holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a nervous grin on his face.

“I fucked up-” he starts.

“You don’t say,” you move the box of chocolates off the paper to start reading it again.

“I overheard Brock the other day saying you were going to stand me up,” he rushes out, your gaze meeting his as he continues. A proud smile on his face about the next sentence, “Steve already told me that you threatened to beat Rumlow up for me. But that’s not the point. I thought you were going to stand me up, so I didn’t want to give you that satisfaction so I never showed up.”

“Why would I stand you up?” you ask slowly, eyeing the flower stems you fear he may crush out of nerves.

“Because I look like this,” he admits quietly, using the flowers to gesture to his slightly protruding belly.

“I love how you look Bucky,” you grab the flowers and set them on the table, grabbing both his hands in yours. “It’s incredibly sexy, you’re sexy. Especially when your sleeves are rolled up and your tie is loosened. I love you James, your personality makes it impossible not to.”

“You love me?” he lets go of one hand, bringing it up to caress your cheek.

“Of course I do,” Steve leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face, his best friends finally got their shit together.

“Let me make it up to you tonight! I can make us dinner and we can stay in. Or I can take you anywhere you want to go. We can go bowling, or see a movie-”

While his rambling is adorable, you cut him off with a soft kiss. It’s not as long or as passionate as either of you would like, but you have an audience of coworkers and you don’t want to get carried away. Brock stomps out of the breakroom like a child when he sees you and Bucky.

“I love you too, doll,” Bucky admits dreamily.

permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always

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