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eevees-hobbies · 4 months

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Watching Fireworks with Your Hashira Boyfriend

Content Warning: Fluff. Reference to intimacy with Gyomei but nothing major. Also, gender neutral.

Contains: Obana Iguroi, Kyojuro Rengoku, Tengen Uzui, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Gyomei Himejima & Giyu Tomioka

Obanai Iguro

Isn’t this the spot…? You find yourself questioning your conversation with Obanai as you look around for any sign of the Serpeant Hashira. You’re standing on the only small hill that overlooks the Hashira Estates; you both agreed to meet at this exact location to get a better view of the fireworks.

Blue and yellow dual-colored eyes look down at you, amusement hidden by the bandages wrapped around the lower half of his face. “When will you stop falling for this trick?” Obanai’s smooth voice travels from above you, and your head snaps up.

Fuck, when WILL I stop falling for this trick?

“I knew you were there along! But hey…I thought we were watching the fireworks together?”

“This angle is far superior,” he responds cooly, his gaze never leaving you.

You huff and look at the ground. Guess we aren’t sitting next to each other for the show. Your sulking session is interrupted as the ground disappears beneath your feet, and your nose is unexpectedly pressed against his uniform. For an instant, you feel like you're floating until Obanai sits you carefully on the thick branch that originally housed only him. Your brief disappointment in not having his arms wrapped around you quickly dissipates as the first firework launches into the sky, illuminating his face a dazzling yellow.

“You’re right. This is the far superior angle,” you smile and take his hand into yours.

Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyojuro Rengoku is a pure romantic, so it’s no surprise that he approaches you first about the fireworks show before it even crosses your mind.

“Y/N! You must accompany me on a date to see the fireworks!”

You enthusiastically agreed, but when you offered to bring snacks to share and enjoy while you watched, Kyojuro insisted that you should not worry about planning anything.

You wait patiently at the agreed-upon location, but Kyojuro is nowhere to be found. Ten minutes pass before you see him heaving two large baskets in your direction and a large blanket under his arm. “Sorry, I’m late! Turns out packing a basket with copious amounts of food is its own skill!” He drops both baskets at your feet with a loud thud.

“Kyo! A picnic. I’m flattered, but you could have asked for help.” Kyojuro spreads the blanket out before you both and carefully unloads the baskets' contents. He’s brought all your favorites—sweet, fried, salty—and even has warm drinks in small thermos containers.

“I did not want you to worry about anything, my flame! Please sit.” He pats the space next to him; you lower yourself onto the blanket and lean your head on his shoulder. “I love you,” you whisper as a cool chill makes you shudder. Not missing a beat, Kyojuro whips his Haori from his shoulders and transfers it to your own.

“Kyo, you’re perfect, you know that?”

He blushes but smiles at you nonetheless, “I’ve never thought of myself as that, but it pleases me that you see me that way! Now, what should we eat first and might I be so bold to ask you if I can feed you?”

Tengen Uzui

What’s flashier than fireworks? Only the God of Festivals himself! Tengen is fucking stoked for the firework show and lets you know that it’s his tradition to watch them every year, and while none of his wives like to attend, he’d enjoy it if you watched with him!

Unfortunately, a Kasugai crow arrives two days before the light show, instructing Tengen to head North in search of a demon that is hunting children in a small fishing village. Duty calls, but of course, it’s a significant blow to your intended plans.

Tengen leaves on his mission but only after telling you that you should watch the fireworks anyway. Who knows, depending on where he is, you both might be watching at the same time, and that’s kind of exciting, too, right?

So, on the night of the fireworks show, you perch yourself on a small wall and look up at the sky, your mind wandering and wondering what Tengen is doing at that exact moment. You shiver, a sudden presence envelopes you and pulls you into an embrace from behind.

“Hey, beautiful. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Your body melts into his chest as the first fireworks fly into the night sky. You don’t have to look back to see the joy that overtakes his features—you can just feel it.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Does Sanemi enjoy fireworks? Not especially. He thinks they’re too loud and hates it when the air gets polluted with so much smoke it makes his eyes burn. Those may seem like silly reasons, but there’s also a more relevant explanation for his disdain, which has to do with demons. At one point, he fought a demon that was using the cover of fireworks to devour villagers; the loud pops and smokey environment created the perfect storm.

Regardless of those reasons, he’d never tell you that he hates fireworks, and as he glimpses over at you, the pure joy written all over your features as a firework whizzes into the air and explodes into blue-like gems that cascade downward from the sky. He thinks that, in some instances, fireworks may be okay.

Sanemi pulls you into his lap and rests his face in the nape of your neck. “Nemi!” you protest, “you’re going to miss the show.”

“Naw, I’m good like this.” He snakes his arms around you and allows himself to exist—and relax—in this moment with you.

Gyomei Himejima

“That one was beautiful, Gyomei.”

“Describe it to me.”

You search for the right words to describe the light show in front of you—you always thought you were decent with words until you met Gyomei who made it a habit of asking you to describe things that had always felt painfully ordinary. It wasn’t until you started to describe the world around you with vibrancy and depth that you began to appreciate the beauty of the world around you.

"Well, those lights, in particular, were a bright orange and crimson color and…you know how when we wake up in the morning, you can feel the sun touching your face as it peeks in through the window; how the rays feel gentle, warm, and exactly like what you need to start your day on a good note? That’s what those colors feel and look like, to me.”

You blush, hoping your descriptions are enough to paint a picture for him. Gyomei doesn’t need you to describe things to him, especially with his enhanced senses, but your honeyed voice never ceases to stir something in him, so he makes you narrate—a lot.

Gyomei hums approvingly, “thank you, my sweet girl. But I hate to admit that when I wake up every morning, I no longer associate the sun with warmth. For me, you and your presence embody every bit of warmth I feel.”

“Gyomei,” your voice dripping with warning. “Keep talking like that, and we’ll be cutting this show short.”

Gyomei chuckles, knowing that you’re half teasing and half threatening him—and while usually, he’d never turn down a heated romp with his beloved—he’s enjoying being here with you in a rare moment of respite from his Hashira duties. He takes your hand into his, rubbing his thumb gently against your palm. “My apologies. I’ll contain myself for now. Please, don’t stop. Keep describing them to me.”

Giyu Tomioka

“This is a date?” He says in his deadpan voice. You suck in a large amount of air, getting ready to verbally admonish him for being such a smart ass, but the corners of Giyu’s mouth twitch upward, “kidding.”

“You’re not even as remotely funny as you think you are, Tomioka.” You turn back to the night sky, which is littered with explosions. You feel your cheeks growing hot and your temper flaring, frustrated at Giyu’s inability to take something so meaningful seriously.

“Ouch, my last name. Like I said, I was only kidding.” You refuse to relent, your arms crossed over your chest. Giyu sighs loudly, “look at me, Y/N. Of course, this is a date. I…I’ve been thinking about this since you asked me to come with you and that was weeks ago. I’ve never felt so nervous and excited at the same time before.”

You turn to Giyu, your eyes shining brightly at his openness and confession. " Do you mean it?”

“Yes, now be quiet; I’m trying to watch the show.” And before you can huff, he leans back and lays his head on your lap.

“Do that thing I like, Y/N.”

You pull the tie from his hair and rake your fingers through his dark blue tresses.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kyojuro rengoku #obanai iguro #tengen uzui #sanemi shinazugawa #gyomei himejima #giyuu tomioka #kny fluff #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader

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psychedelic-ink · 5 months

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x tess servopoulos

genre: smut, modern au, minors dni

word count: 2k

summary: you're new to town and tess invites you to go camping with her and joel.

warnings: fmf, threesome, flf dynamics, reader being eaten out for the first time, dirty talk, oral s.ex, cum eating/play, for the sake of this fic let's just imagine they have a very big tent they can actually stand in lmaodfb, things escalate quickly but honestly I just wanted to write some good old smut

a/n: this wasn't originally intended for the amazing @undercoverpena's april showers challenge BUT since I had already written the rain aspect of the fic I thought it would be nice to post this for it 💜

prompt: both/all parties get caught in the rain.

**dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜

Breathing is hard. Walking is hard. Carrying the weight of your backpack is hard.

But, the fresh air, the white clouds above, and the two people you’re with make up for it.

Stopping briefly, you roll your shoulders and stretch, neither of them notice you. Not really. You figure it’s not really important if they do or don’t, it’s not like they’re that much ahead of you, catching up wouldn’t be difficult. You watch them, you must admit, a bit dreamily as they walk the bath they’re clearly so used to walking. You’re still surprised that the seasoned hikers invited you to a camping trip. Tess was the one to approach, she knew you were new and how overwhelming it’s been getting used to the people and the sights. She told you she and Joel would be going on a trip soon and that you should join. And even though your answer had been an eager yes, you were worried about holding them back. Admittedly, you weren’t the most fit and haven’t hiked anywhere in years.

However, your excitement to spend time with not one but both of them had tipped the scale rather harshly. You’ve been harboring a secret crush on both of them, it was hard not to when both of them were charming and witty.

Now, as you walk behind them, you can't help but steal glances at the way Tess effortlessly navigates the trail, her hair swaying with each step. Joel walks beside her, occasionally pointing out interesting plants or landmarks, his backpack seeming almost weightless on his shoulders.

You catch yourself smiling as you imagine what adventures lie ahead on this trip.

You decide to pick up your pace, closing the gap between you and them. As you draw nearer, Tess glances back, her eyes brightening with a genuine smile as she sees you catching up.

"How's the hike treating you?"

You catch your breath and reply, "It's challenging, but I'm enjoying every moment of it."

Joel turns around with a friendly grin. "Glad to hear that. We've got a great spot picked out for camping tonight."

As the three of you continue forward, you feel a surge of excitement. Your legs might be aching, but you can't wait to see where the day takes you all.

Rain.

At first, you thought you were unlucky. You had dreamed of campfire, smores and snuggling underneath the starlight, but with the first lightning strike and drop of water, you thought the two would be agitated, annoyed by the bad weather.

But to your surprise, as the rain began to fall in earnest after setting the tent, Tess and Joel didn't seem bothered at all. In fact, they laughed and exchanged playful looks as they turned their heads up to the sky. Their infectious joy caught you off guard, and despite the downpour, you found yourself smiling too.

Then, unexpectedly, Joel's arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. A rush of warmth floods through you as his lips brush against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, Tess leans in, her lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. The moment is electrifying, filled with a blend of desire and affection.

Before you know it, Tess and Joel are gently guiding you towards the tent they had set up earlier. The rain continues to pour around you, but inside the cozy confines of the tent, a different kind of heat ignites.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Joel cups both your breasts tenderly from underneath, the wet fabric dampening his skin. You feel Tess’s eyes on your back, observing, taking in the details of the scene before her. Meanwhile, Joel’s gaze is glued to your pebbled nipples, he slowly drags his thumbs over them, your breath catching in your throat. “Does that feel good?”

“It does,” your eyelids flutter, he repeats the movement, drawing circles this time. His eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“So fucked out already,” he hums. “Our pretty little girl, so shy and hungry.”

Tess stands from where she is sitting and circles her arms around your waist, fingers digging into your stomach, she pulls you flush against her. Your stomach bottoms out as you feel the plump flesh of her breasts against your back. Your lips part, you want to kiss her.

You want to kiss her.

You turn your head, chasing her lips with yours, before your eyes close, you see the mischievous curl of her lips. She pulls away and smiles even wider when you whine. “You’re so easy to tease.”

Opening your eyes, you swallow, your body arches when Joel sneaks both hands under your shirt, lifting the fabric, goosebumps raise all over your skin. “Is that a bad thing?” you ask her, voice slightly shaking.

“Not at all princess,” she drags her lips down your neck. “It just makes it even more amusing.”

Your reply gets stuck in your throat as Joel dips down and sucks one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. He tightly closes his lips around the nub and flicks it with his tongue. Your body jolts, pleasure running through you like the lighting outside. Your head falls over Tess’s shoulder, she lays open-mouthed kisses over your neck, her hands unbuttoning your pants.

“You want him to eat you out?” she breathes into your skin and without looking at either of them you nod. “Have you ever had your pussy eaten out, princess?”

You lick your lips, “No,” you say half ashamed, and swallow. “This’ll be my first time.”

Joel’s tongue stills on your skin and suddenly two hungry eyes come into your view. If you didn’t know better you’d say he looks pissed off. Never breaking eye contact, he continues what Tess started and pushes down your pants along with your underwear, leaving you bare to the chill of the tent. He pushes two fingers between your folds and starts stroking you, you shudder against both of them, and your breath hitches.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he says. “Beg me for it.”

“Please.”

He chuckles darkly, “Oh sweetheart, I ain’t gettin’ on my knees for that. Do better.”

You let out a small gasp as he grips your chin, squeezing lightly. To provide comfort, Tess kisses the back of your neck, however, you can feel her smiling into your skin.

“Please,” you say again. “I want you to make me come, Joel. I want to feel your tongue—I want you to be my first—”

Your lips part for another incoming beg but he’s already sinking to his knees, large hands sliding up and down the back of your thighs. A shudder rolls up your spine. Tess’s hands replace Joel’s, kneading your breasts softly.

His hands finally come between your thighs, gently nudging them so you open wider. You see a flicker of a smile when you do, amused, he drags two fingers between your folds. “You’re soaked, sweetheart.”

“She’s not the only one,” Tess chuckles. “Now get on with it, Miller. I’m impatient.”

He clicks his tongue without retaliating further. You feel the warmth of his breath on your core, and slowly, he presses his lips over your mound, the scratch of his beard making it an exquisite experience. You moan at the touch of his tongue, it moves slowly, circling your clit and going deeper. His nails bite into your skin, the sounds he makes between your legs are downright sinful. Your legs begin to shake.

“Shh it’s okay,” Tess whispers against your cheek. “Just give him a taste and we’ll lay you down, princess. I know you can do it.”

Joel grunts in approval, the timber of the sound making you whimper. His hands slide up to your ass and he squeezes the mounds roughly, pushing you further against his mouth. He licks and sucks, when you feel the bite of his nails against your skin, you finally come undone.

Your knees threaten to give out under you, the only thing holding you upright being the two stunning people consuming you. Tess smiles against your skin, kissing and licking the salt of your skin. Meanwhile, Joel moans rather loudly, licking everything you have to offer as you come, come and come some more. You’ve never felt anything this intense before. The air is knocked from your lungs, your body ice cold yet burning up at the same time.

You’re vaguely aware of Joel standing, the man who was worshipping you between your legs suddenly towering over you. He has a small smile as he leans in, you think he’s going to kiss the slope of your shoulder first but then you hear the soft sounds of two lips coming together. With the corner of your eyes, you see them. Tess and Joel kissing, their tongues sliding into each other's mouth, sharing your taste—

“Fuck,” you whisper, your cunt throbbing. They both smile, lips curving in an almost malicious way. As they break apart, Tess licks Joel’s lips, her eyes find yours.

“Someone’s still hungry for more,” she teases, slowly stripping. “Get on all fours for us, princess.”

You swallow and do as she says. You feel Joel’s large hands cup the mounds of your ass, squeezing tenderly. “Beautiful,” he rasps. “Such a goddamn sight.”

Your back arches into his touch. He drags two thick fingers between your folds as Tess lays down, spreading her legs. Your eyes immediately drop to her center, the soft hair that crowns her pretty pussy. You see her glisten with want and your mouth waters.

“Don’t be shy now,” she smiles. “Have a taste.”

Her fingers curl around the back of your neck and at the same time, you feel the head of Joel’s cock stretching you wide. Your eyes roll as you part your lips, Tess moans loudly when your tongue swirls around her puffy clit. You can’t think straight. Joel buries himself deep holding himself there for a second before pulling back and slamming forward. Your moan into Tess’s cunt, your lips parting away briefly every he pulls himself back.

“Best cunt I’ve ever had,” he grunts through clenched teeth. “How does it feel sweetheart? You enjoyin’ yourself?”

You flatten your tongue against Tess’s folds and moan, your body clenching.

“She is,” Tess answers on your behalf, breathless. “Such a sweet girl letting us use her like this.”

Your eyes close tightly shut, sweat drips down your spine, your body a vessel of pleasure. Every muscle in your body tightens, and you hear both of them groan. You close your lips around Tess’s clit and flick your tongue, her head falls, gushing into your mouth. Joel’s watches intently, his cock pulsing and throbbing, his hand comes against the back of your head and he pushes you further down.

“Good girl,” he growls, the pace of his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Fuck, that’s it, lick her clean.”

Tess moans again, the loud sounds becoming whimpers. You can barely breathe but you don’t care. With one final thrusts you come undone around Joel’s cock, your body squeezing him like a vice.

When the violent shudders of your body become gentle waves, Joel pulls out. Your head falls limply against Tess’s stomach, her hand gently rubbing your neck. A soft gasp leaves you when you see Joel shuffling closer, his cock still hard and glistening. You watch as he strokes himself only mere inches away from your face, the head of his cock an angry shade of red.

You stick out your tongue as he spills himself over your face and Tess’s stomach. Another pulse of pleasure spreads throughout your body. Tess let’s out a deep sigh, gathering some of the come with her fingers, she pushes them between your lips.

“Fuck,” Joel sighs, sitting back on his heels. A small smile forms against your lips as you suck on Tess’s fingers, when she pulls them out, you dip your tongue into the mess over her stomach and swallow every drop.

“Filthy girl,” Tess muses. “And here I’ve been callin’ you princess.”

“Your fault,” you mumble, looking away, your cheeks burn.

Joel leans in, capturing your lips before whispering.

“Don’t pout. You’ll always be our princess.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x f!reader x tess #tess servopoulos x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel x reader x tess #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #UndercoverAprilShowersChallenge

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writtenjewels · 9 months

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Partner part 4

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Jason leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, waiting impatiently for Salim to wake up. Jason wasn't a morning person by nature, but he'd been too restless to sleep last night. The knowledge that Salim would get up soon was all that kept Jason from pacing the space.

It was only his second day here and Jason was nearly crawling up the walls. He needed something to do. Salim probably thought he was doing Jason a favor by giving him so much free rein; what Jason would prefer was some sort of direction. Today promised to be a good start.

Salim finally got out of bed. He padded around his room—Jason was quick to look away when the man started to dress—and then made his way over to Jason's room. He looked a little startled to see Jason already awake and waiting for him.

“Good morning.”

“Hey,” Jason nodded back. “You ever try grits?”

“I'm not sure what that is,” Salim admitted. His eyes darted curiously over Jason. “You already dressed and bathed?”

“Uh, yeah.” He actually showered, and he did it late last night. Jason hoped the hot water would relax him enough to sleep, but it somehow had the opposite effect. As for the clothes, they were brought in from his house by Salim's servants. The plain shirts and trousers were more Jason's style than the fancy stuff available in the palace.

“So what are grits?” Salim prompted him. “Is it the 'weird shit' you promised?”

“You shouldn't sound so excited to eat weird shit,” Jason teased him. Salim responded with a smile. The guy really looked nice when he smiled. Jason let out a cough to cut through the awkward feeling building inside him. “Grits are ground corn in milk,” he explained.

“That doesn't sound too weird,” Salim decided. “It'll at least be less messy than the Sloppy Joes.” His eyes twinkled in a clear hint he was teasing. Jason had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. “Have you decided what you want to do today?” Salim asked, gesturing for Jason to sit with him.

“I figured I'd keep ya company.” Jason spoke the words casually, punctuating with a shrug. Salim's eyes brightened and his smile grew wide. Jason's lips twitched up to match.

“We'll be holding hands when we're out,” Salim reminded him. He took Jason's hand as demonstration. The grip was unexpectedly strong and calloused. Salim leaned forward, the teasing gleam returning to his eyes. “But don't worry: I won't cuddle you. I have to draw the line somewhere.” Jason let out a soft snort and gently pushed the man away.

The two chatted as they ate breakfast. Jason found he liked talking to Salim and kept trying to say things that would make the other man smile. Salim, in turn, peppered their conversation with stupid jokes.

Jason almost didn't want the moment to end. But neither did he want to stay cooped up in the palace all day, so once the meal was cleared away he followed Salim into town. The moment they were outside, Salim clasped Jason's hand. Their fingers threaded together and Salim squeezed. The last time Jason held hands with anyone, he was probably seven or eight. It was a little odd doing it now.

The two of them went around like that all day. Jason mostly stayed quiet, watching Salim interact with the people. Inevitably someone would ask, “Who is this?” Salim squeezed Jason's hand every time and smiled. “My new life partner,” he answered. It was weird the first few times, but eventually Jason got used to it.

And he got used to feeling Salim's hand. Everyone they came across thought it was a sign of intimacy, but to Jason it felt like something else. It was comfort, assurance, security. He gave Salim's hand gentle little tugs and squeezes whenever the man needed a boost. I'm here, he said with every squeeze of his hand. Salim shot him a quick look and the smile returned to his face.

It was late when they finally returned to the palace. Salim lifted Jason's hand but seemed to second-guess whatever he intended to do, and let it drop.

“That wasn't too bad, I hope?” Something about that phrasing bothered Jason.

“It was okay.”

“I won't ask you to do that often, I promise.”

“I said it was okay,” Jason snapped, the words coming out harsh.

“All right.” Some emotion flickered on Salim's face but he turned his head before Jason could understand it. “I'm going to spend some time in the garden,” Salim announced. “Have a good night.”

“Okay.” Jason didn't know what else to say. His emotions were in a confused jumble. He tried to shake himself out of it. He was only here to get away from his shitty life; he only stayed so Salim wouldn't be bothered by the matchmaker anymore. There was nothing more to it.

So why did he feel so empty now that Salim's hand was no longer holding his?

#house of ashes #jason kolchek #salim othman #jason/salim #jalim #jason x salim #jason kolchek x salim othman

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darsynia · 2 years

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Modern Mythology | Ch1

(Tony Stark/OC; soulmate AU pre-Ultron, in 3 parts)

image from peakpx.com | gif from @anthonyed

Summary: Abigail Carson takes a chance on a second job as a courier in the hopes that it'll help her find her soulmate, whose words on her skin imply that he's signing for a package she delivers. When she hears the words spoken by Tony Stark, though, Abbi has second thoughts. She's practically a nobody!

Length: 3,974

MY MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER

Taglist: @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon, @starksbf

Excerpt:

Abbi pulled out the small clipboard from her pocket, flipped to the blank back of the package acceptance template, and wrote a message on it, sideways, in large block letters.

‘I AM NOT YOUR SOULMATE IF I HAVEN’T SAID YOUR WORDS!’

She held it up for when he turned around from scaring away her ride back to work. It took a little while, because unbelievably, the taxi driver was congratulating Stark on such a momentous occasion. Finally, he hit the top of the taxi with his Iron Man gauntlet and the woman drove away. A black SUV pulled up in its place almost immediately. As soon as he saw her holding up the clipboard, Stark came over to read it, standing too close for her comfort.

Abbi made the mistake of watching his face as he read. He’d walked over with an amused confidence, but a wall of defensiveness seemed to rise up in his expression and he looked her right in her eyes as soon as he finished reading.

“What, the giant tower and superhero suit didn’t go in the ‘Pros’ column?”

Chapter One: Goddess Observed

When Abigail’s mother pressed her to find her soulmate, Abbi had no idea that she’d learn that there was an underground courier culture in New York City. Her job at Vail & Nysa was great, even though she’d always wanted to finish her law degree, but there would be time for that someday. For now, being a paralegal was close enough, and it had unexpectedly opened up a secondary opportunity.

Apparently, there were levels of being a courier. Abbi had thought that she’d end up picking up and dropping off things in lobbies here and there on her way to work and on her lunch break. But as soon as she walked into the downtown office of You Send Me, the receptionist took one look at her professional clothing and sent her upstairs. There wasn’t a receptionist there, just a clipboard with names that had been blacked out as they were seen, it looked like. Hoping this wasn’t a secret first step to a fifty-step process of earning a job at Google she didn’t intend on taking, Abbi wrote down Abigail Carson and sat down to wait with her hands in her lap. Work had been a half day anyway, so she had the time to find out what kind of mysterious chance she might be given.

It took almost a half hour. She (of course) didn’t check her watch, certain that that would be noticed. The longer she sat, the more Abbi was consumed with curiosity. As much as she could, though, she kept her green eyes trained on a spot on the wall in front of her, and tried not to touch the chignon her shoulder-length brown hair was styled into. Inside, her mind swirled with possibilities. Outside, she was the picture of a calm, collected young woman.

“Ms. Carson?” The speaker was an older woman garbed in rich purple and covered with jewelry. Sometimes Abbi really loved when New York City lived up to its mythos.

As it turned out, You Send Me had a higher-end courier business whose employees were hand-picked and mostly consisted of young women dressed as if for the boardroom or court. At its heart, Courier and Ives was, Mrs. Violet Walsingham told Abbi, a business trying to cater to companies who didn’t want a disruptive, enthusiastic young delivery person in street clothes bopping in to deliver something sensitive or vital in nature.

That was when Abbi asked point-blank if it was a disguised escort service. Mrs. Walsingham cackled and begged her to sign up, even if she only delivered packages once a week. She told Abbi that while yes, professional young women rarely had the chance to meet men outside their own office during work hours, and Courier and Ives did end up facilitating that sometimes, their reputation as a courier service was impeccable.

Abbi showed the woman her soulmark, confessed her reasons for applying, and was told she was exactly the kind of young woman they were looking for.

Her mother was full of delight when Abbi told her about what happened. Demi Carson had lived an adventurous life, and she was always encouraging Abbi to live hers to the fullest as much as possible. Their family vacations were always to as exotic a location as they could afford, the schedule packed with anything that looked unique and challenging. They hadn’t always felt safe but they’d always had a good story to tell later.

Secretly, Abbi had always wondered if her mom had married Atticus Carson because his name was unique. Her father had been dour but loving, and any fights she’d ever observed had stemmed from a conflict of personalities. That conflict was embodied in Abbi herself in many ways-- she was adventurous but economical, free-spirited as much as possible while still grounded in the here and now. If it was within her budget and didn’t risk her future, Abigail Carson liked taking a chance on something exciting.

Courier and Ives was right up her alley. She couldn’t wait to start.

Her biggest hope was that she’d run into her soulmate, who would be an up-and-coming executive type with a head for business and a heart for taking a few measured chances. Her biggest fear was that her soulmate would actually turn out to be a big-spender, big-risk type of guy whose lifestyle would fill her with the kind of dread she watched her father deal with when her mother was in one of her moods. Before they’d lost him to a heart attack, her father had told her he’d loved his life, and the only thing he would have changed was perhaps trying to temper his wife’s most grandiose tendencies. Abbi’s soulmark did imply that the speaker would be someone who wouldn’t ordinarily take deliveries, but she didn’t worry about that too much. If he was her soulmate, they were made for each other, and it would be worth it, just like her parents’ marriage was. They’d been soulmates too.

By a month into the job, Abbi was starting to enjoy the excited rush she felt every time she walked up to a man to hand over a discreet package. Her soulmate words had turned a job that already let her observe various exclusive offices and meetings into an exciting chance at a new life! She got a message every few days, though today had been day four since her last one. When she stopped by on her lunch hour to pick it up, she was surprised to see that it was to Avengers Tower.

The re-named Stark Tower was a different kind of ‘exclusive’ than the expensive, chic office spaces that Courier and Ives women were often sent to. There wasn’t just a chance at running into a wealthy executive there, but also bona-fide superheroes. It was a plum job, and Abbi was the newest employee. She asked Mrs. Walsingham if there had been a mistake.

“No mistake, sweetheart! We accepted delivery of this item from a confidential source and it needs to be run over to the tower. You’re the only one with availability in the next hour. If Minthe Lawson gives you grief about it, you come to me, got it?” The kindly old lady gave Abbi a once-over. “That gold-colored suit is absolutely stunning. One of Stark’s favorite colors, I hear!”

Inwardly, Abbi winced. Anthony Stark was one person she would be happy to miss seeing-- as handsome as he was, the man was a walking PR disaster. Reportedly, he’d been building some kind of robot army after his girlfriend and CEO of his company had left him a few months ago. Just being an unfamiliar young woman in his general proximity would probably be enough to get his attention nowadays, or so the tabloids said, much less wearing his favorite color. Her mother had bought her the suit jacket and miniskirt set, and always loved seeing her wearing it for work. There were few opportunities where she could wear it, because paralegals were to be seen and not heard, at her firm (and she preferred it that way), but today was a celebration for a successful win of the case she’d been working on, and Abbi had made an exception. The skirt was shorter than she was used to, too.

Gritting her teeth, she left, hoping she’d get through Avengers Tower without running across its most famous resident. The object looked like a suitcase, but after the incident at Monaco Abbi knew that an object going to Stark Industries could be anything disguised as anything. Her credentials got her through the door just fine, and she was sent up to the 72nd floor to a conference room.

She tapped lightly on the door and it opened inward. Slowly, Abbi walked into the doorway, where she was faced with all of the Avengers, at least the ones she could recognize.

“Tony, a scared-looking delivery girl is here with the suitcase you had made for the scepter,” a man dressed all in black said. He smiled at her in a kindly sort of way, turning around to call for Stark again. On his back was an actual quiver full of arrows.

“Oh, that’s not necessary, I could probably give this to any one of you?” Abbi said desperately. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the card with the instructions. “Yes. Avengers or associated staff. I’ll just--” she turned to look for someone much more junior and less busy to hand the object off to.

“Found him,” the archer sing-songed.

Abbi stopped short. With a pasted-on smile, she turned around and was faced with Tony Stark. He was dressed in a band t-shirt and jeans, and he must have been laughing with one of the other people in the room before being called over, because his smile was bright, genuine, and devastating. Abbi had always thought he was handsome in magazine pictures, read articles that called him charismatic, but she’d never seen such clear evidence of the difference between a picture and a person before.

Tony Stark was magnetizing, and she’d only been around him for three seconds so far.

For his part, Stark seemed to find her interesting as well, which was disconcerting for Abbi. He leaned his head back and regarded her, the initial brilliant smile on his face morphing into an impressed, pleased look.

“I wonder where Violet keeps finding so many respectable young women,” he said under his breath. Then, over his shoulder to another man, he added, “You’d think she would run out, after a while.”

Abbi had been trained to be polite, gracious, even accommodating, but she felt objectified, and it made her actions a bit stiff. She held out the suitcase with a strained, silent smile. He gestured to the table beside him for her to set it down, his eyes narrowing just a touch in recognition of her attitude. Stark was a tech genius, yes, but he bucked their trend of being awkward and unskilled with women. He could tell she disapproved of him. Abbi felt her face flush at the subtle rebuke, and pulled out a small clipboard for his signature. Apologizing would just make things worse.

“You didn’t expect me to be the one to sign for this, did you?” he asked as he bent over the flat surface to scribble his signature.

Abbi’s grip on the clipboard failed on hearing her soulmark words. Her heart started pounding and she felt goosebumps rise on her arms. It was as if his words had loosened the cork that had been holding back all possible reactions to hearing her soulmate’s first words, and in a fluke of fate, she was feeling all of them at once. Horror, excitement, attraction, repulsion.

Stark reached out quickly to steady the clipboard with his other hand as he finished signing, looking up at her quizzically.

If fate had decreed her soulmate was Tony Stark and she apologized for letting go, those would be the words written on his body somewhere. But what if it was a coincidence? Surely that phrase had been spoken before and would be again? Abbi dipped her head in a silent goodbye, pressed her lips together in case she accidentally said something, and turned to go, moving quickly to escape the situation.

“Hey, Cleopatra in the gold suit! Gonna need this.”

She stopped a foot from the elevator button, and Stark walked over to hand her the clipboard, looking a bit regretful to give it back, for some reason. Abbi took it, pulling out the side of her jacket to tuck it into the inside pocket. She felt dizzy, almost like she was observing herself from the outside, and some of that must have shown on her face.

“You all right? Here,” he said, reaching out to tap the button for the elevator. “Look at me,” Stark commanded, and she let out a quick breath to steady herself before lifting her eyes to his. “Green!” he said with a slow, pleased smile. Abbi had to fight back a feeling of pride, as if it should matter whether this man liked the color of her eyes. “Well, Emerald Eyes, you seem to be experiencing Superhero Swoon, which is understandable after being confronted with a room full of them. I’m happy to offer a manful shoulder should you so require?”

Abbi shook her head right as the elevator doors opened, offering an apologetic smile as she scurried inside.

“No name, not even for the review?”

She shook her head again.

“Silent rabbit mode it is, then. I’ll just have to have something else delivered. Until next time!” Stark said with an impish grin just as the doors closed.

“Oh my God, that did not just happen. Please tell me that did not just happen!” Abbi said out loud to the empty elevator, groaning. “It was a fluke. That’s what it was. It only counts if I say his words back, and I am not going to, because there’s no way in hell that Tony Stark is my soulmate. Nope!” A voice in her head that sounded an awful lot like her mother’s pointed out that he was wealthy, handsome, and a certified genius, but most importantly, not in any way boring! Abbi had quite a lot of experience ignoring her mother’s voice in her head, however. Where most women heard their mother’s voice criticizing them, hers was like the impulsive devil on her shoulder.

It was practically inconceivable that someone of Stark’s stature would be unbonded at his age anyway. And he’d just broken up with his long-term girlfriend. The man had clearly not been concerned with finding his soulmate and hadn’t been for years. As far as Abbi was concerned, if she was his soulmate, he never had to find out. She left the elevator, nodded to the front desk person, and walked outside. Her plan was to call a taxi and never set foot in the tower again.

She raised a hand for a taxi and saw one that had been idling at the corner a block away put on its turn signal. The driver waved at her, and Abbi waved back.

Suddenly, Iron Man came flying down from the top of the tower, landing on one knee in front of her before straightening up. The faceplate flipped up to show Tony Stark.

“So, funny thing about the elevators in my tower. They’re run by my AI, JARVIS, who likes to pass on any pertinent information spoken in his presence.” Stark’s brown eyes were bright, hopeful, and fixed on her. His demeanor was placating, holding out one hand as if begging her to stay put.

Abbi almost told him she was sorry but there was probably a mistake. Then she realized that if there wasn’t a mistake, those would be the words written on his body. He deserved better than that. He deserved a fancy celebrity soulmate, not a young woman looking at turning thirty with half of the goals she’d made at twenty still unfulfilled! So she shook her head at him and pointed at the taxi that pulled up right then.

To her immense frustration, Stark leaned over, mimed rolling down a window, and told the taxi driver that he and his soulmate were having a one-sided conversation, and to move on.

Abbi pulled out the small clipboard from her pocket, flipped to the blank back of the package acceptance template, and wrote a message on it, sideways, in large block letters.

I AM NOT YOUR SOULMATE IF I HAVEN’T SAID YOUR WORDS!

“What, the giant tower and superhero suit didn’t go in the ‘Pros’ column?”

Something inside her twisted up to hear the vulnerability in his tone. She ruthlessly suppressed them. This man wasn’t for her. It just wasn’t possible. Abbi tried to flip to a new page, but the one she’d just written on came loose. He stopped the small, square note card from flying away by stepping on it, then Stark leaned over and picked it up.

“Would you believe this thing doesn’t have pockets? Back to the drawing board,” he joked. It was impossible not to laugh. “Got you,” he said softly. Even as she was writing another message for him, Stark reached out and rested his gauntleted hand on the clipboard, then took it from her entirely. He glanced at what she’d started writing (‘I need to get back to work and you just took my ride!’) and nodded. “I called one of my guys, he’ll drive you wherever you want, and I made him promise not to tell me where, even.”

Abbi looked up at him in surprise. The vulnerability and defensiveness were still there, but there was stubborn amusement in his expression now, as well.

“You still need to be convinced,” he said. Abbi shook her head and looked at her watch. The office party would start in twenty minutes, and Stark looked like he had twenty minutes’ worth of arguing in him. “Listen,” he said, stepping even closer.

She crossed her arms to put a little distance between them, but the action emphasized the small bit of cleavage her blouse showed, and she saw him notice that. There was definitely a heat between them, but she was willing to ignore it. The man probably had heat with everyone, honestly.

Stark pointed between the two of them as he started speaking again. “You doubt this soulmate thing is real, but that doubt is a point in your favor. Do you know how many women would fake my words if they knew what they were? And here you are, you could say anything, and that’s what they’d be. Embrace the power, Iris.” He paused, clearly saw her brows furrowed in confusion, and added, “I don’t know if soulmate words change, but please don’t turn mine into a question about Greek mythology. Iris, female messenger to the Gods.” He grinned. “Feel free to say, ‘Does that mean you think you are a god?’ because that would be badass. I’d be happy to give up my current soulmark if that’s what the new one was.”

Abbi shook her head. She felt lightheaded again, but instead of dizziness, it was a kind of excited anticipation. He obviously was convinced they were soulmates, and despite herself, she was influenced by that a little bit. Her practicality won out, though. She was going to be late for work, and he was a billionaire. The sun was not destined to fall in love with a fluorescent lightbulb! Abbi stepped back from Stark, sighed, and walked over to the car.

He opened the door and ushered her in. “This is Happy Hogan, he’ll take you to work. Happy, we agreed you wouldn’t tell me anything she said, right?”

“Right,” the round-faced man in the front seat said.

“His AI monitors the car, doesn’t it?” Abbi asked Hogan.

“It sure does,” Hogan said, grinning at Stark.

“Traitor,” Stark said. He shifted his gaze to Abbi, and she could see admiration in it. “I like smart women. Even ones smart enough to want to stay far away from me.”

Before she could react to that, he stepped back, shut the door, and activated his suit, flying straight up and out of her line of sight.

“I wish I could re-do this entire day,” Abbi sighed, throwing her head back in the seat and closing her eyes tightly.

“I get that a lot,” Hogan said sympathetically. “Where can I drive you?”

“My mother used to always answer, ‘Crazy,’ but I think that’s the location I am currently leaving at the moment. How about the Solow Building?”

True to his word, Hogan delivered her to her workplace and didn’t even ask her name. His only concession to the strangeness of the situation was when he pulled up to the building and then turned to speak to her.

“I know you’ve got to make up your own mind, here, but I would be eternally grateful if you would just do one thing for me.”

Abbi eyed him warily. “What?”

“I’ve heard of soulmate words changing in very rare situations. I’ve seen his, so I know what you’re supposed to say, but if you could change them to, I don’t know, ‘Happy says you’re a good guy, so I guess we’re doing this’ or something like that--”

“Unlock the door?”

“Fair enough.”

The rest of Abbi’s day passed so normally that she managed to pretend that nothing had happened, right up until she walked in the door and saw her mom. She looked like she was having a good, calm day. Not the kind of day where she needed to stress out about something that momentous and world-changing. Abbi did her best to deflect questions, made them leftovers from the day before, and checked to be sure that her mom had taken all the pills she needed to before heading to her room to study up on the next case she’d be working on.

“Something happened today, didn’t it?”

Abbi looked up to see her mom in her doorway. “What makes you say that?” she asked, putting a bookmark in the tome she’d been reading.

“You usually relax when you come home. You take off the masks you had to wear to get through the day. Today, you’re still wearing them.”

“Something so bizarre happened today that I’m still processing it. I’ll tell you when I figure it out, okay?” Abbi confessed.

“Well, don’t wait too long. Clock’s ticking!” Demi Carson said, laying a dramatic wrist on her own forehead.

“You know, some mothers take a diagnosis like yours seriously, just saying,” Abbi laughed. Her mother had never taken anything seriously in her life, not if she could help it. That didn’t mean she was being irresponsible about it, just irreverent. It was equal parts frustrating and uplifting, depending on the day. The jury was out for how today was going to feel. They had a few weeks before the scan to see if her current treatment was effective. Even if it was, Abbi was grateful she’d moved back in to care for her, despite the rather dramatic role-reversals that happened between them sometimes.

“Some mothers never took their children out of the country. Some mothers haven’t even tried marijuana. Some mothers have the decency to move to the suburbs when they get old. I’m not some mothers.”

“You are not old, go to bed.”

“Yes, dear.”

Next chapter, Tony wages an all-out war to persuade Abbi that she should accept him as her soulmate.

#tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x oc #tony stark x original character #iron man fanfiction #iron man #iron man x oc #iron man x original character #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #tony stark imagine #ocfairygodmother #fyeahsuperverseocs #soulmate au #romance

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alohajun · 3 years

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♡ ICE-CREAM STORE ONEESAN 2 — WATANABE HARUTO

haruto x fem!reader | wc : 0.8k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, mentions of food, fluffy confession scene using ruto's part in darari

watanabe haruto was sure everyone around him was suspecting his frequent visits to the park. though his sister loved visiting the park, airi too found the multiple visits suspicious, wondering if her brother actually wanted to take her to the park or had some other motive.

he actually had another motive. and that was none other than getting to know the ice-cream store oneesan better.

ever since that day, no matter how hard haruto tried, he couldn’t get you off his mind. and unable to come up with another excuse, he merely used his sister to visit the ‘ice-cream store oneesan’ she liked very much. he never spoke much, just watching you and his sister play around the park with a love-struck look on his face.

but today was different. today, haruto was determined to make a trip to the park alone and hopefully get himself to confess his feelings for you. it was almost six months since he had met you, and he had never been surer of the feelings he had been feeling whenever he thought about you.

at first, he didn’t think it was possible, but after being around you, haruto came to realise that maybe it was possible. i have fallen for y/n … truly, madly, deeply and unexpectedly. a grin came over his features as he arrived at the park, his feet taking him towards the ice-cream store you worked at like clockwork.

“welcome to—haruto!” your greeting fizzled out, a warm smile on your face as you took off the apron you wore. “i’m just getting off work for the day. where is airi?” you scanned his surroundings, brows furrowing as you didn’t notice the young female’s presence.

“she didn’t come today,” he announced quickly, seeing the way your eyes widened in fear his sister was lost again. “i just came with a bunch of friends, and i thought i’d drop by after they left,” he lied, hoping he didn’t sound like a love-struck idiot.

you nodded, secretly not wanting your interaction to end. “do you want to have some takoyaki? if you have the time, obviously.” your eyes looked at the tall male, watching him intently for an answer.

“that, uh, sounds great … really. i’d like that.”

“well, let’s go.”

as a reflex, whenever you played with airi, you grabbed onto haruto’s hand, pulling him out of the store as you two walked towards the takoyaki stand in the park. you didn’t seem to realise, and haruto didn’t bother pointing it out either, feeling his heart threaten to beat out of his chest as the butterflies erupted in his stomach.

“which one would you like? everything tastes amazing here,” you spoke, glancing over the menu before turning to haruto. “i’m getting the original.”

“um, yeah, i’ll take the same.” haruto nodded, drifting your gaze to your hands as you wondered why he was staring at them. you apologised, quickly pulling away your hand, not noticing the way his smile faltered for a millisecond. “no, no. it’s alright,” he assured.

after getting your orders, the two of you sat on a bench overlooking a pond, just enjoying the silence as you munched on your snack. few words were exchanged between you two, and haruto appreciated it, unsure of how he would sound if he were to speak at that moment.

his mind was clouded with the words he was planning to tell you, but the speech seemed to disappear the moment his eyes landed on you, seeing the way the rays of orange-red sunlight fell on your face, completely mesmerized by the visuals.

it’s now or never, watanabe. just get it done with. if it fails, you just have to give up on coming to the park. that’s all to it … other than a broken heart — but let’s just go for it. he gave himself a pep talk, feeling nervous as he turned towards you, gaining your attention.

“y/n …” haruto trailed off, taking a deep breath. “i wanted to tell you something.”

you felt your heart race at those simple words, trying to look nonchalant as you looked at him. “oh? what is it?” you were nervous, wondering if you had done something wrong.

you can stop playing with my sister. i don’t want to meet up with you anymore. you expected the worst, feeling the tumbling of your stomach get worse with each passing second. maybe that’s why he came without airi … to tell me to stop hanging out with them.

two nervous hearts sat next to each other; the ringing of their own ears was too loud to hear the hammering heartbeats of the other. if they heard, they’d have known that whatever they felt, the other felt the same about them, too. but haruto took the lead, confessing the feelings he was sure he had felt when he first saw you.

“uh, umm … excuse me for saying this suddenly, y/n, but i l-o-v-e y-o-u.”

TREASURE MASTERLIST

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trippingonthelight · 2 years

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One Line Prompts #1: Sam (“I think I’m in love with you.”)

Sammy girls I am so sorry in advance but this one hurts in the good way...

cw: Sam Kiszka x f!reader, FLUFFIEST FLUFF TO EVER FLUFF, sam sharing his feelings unexpectedly, pain and suffering...

“Sammy don’t come in here yet but where’s your paper towels??” you called from the kitchen.

You almost had it… you were almost done making him dinner to surprise him when he got done practicing. You never do this for him, but he’s been working hard on the new album lately, so hard you’ve barely seen each other all week. Takeout has become a staple out of necessity since he was working late with the guys, barely making it in the studio before 11 on a good night. Of course, it doesn’t feel like work when they have as much fun as they all do together. But the routine of it still takes a toll on him, you can tell. He’s yawning and drinking more coffee - more than the usual startling amount of caffeine he consumes. When you do have a free moment together it usually ends up with his head lolling against your shoulder as his eyes become too heavy to keep open and he slumps into the couch for however long he can get away with… that is, before one of his bandmates is pulling him back down to the basement studio to record or practice. One of the only times you’d see him is when he would run back upstairs to collect the latest delivery order from the front door, sneak a quick kiss from you if he could, and away again he would go… But you know what too many nights of that does to a person, and you just thought it would be nice to make him something homemade. He deserves it…

But you spilled the margarita you just tried to make him and your plan to be sneaky was foiled. You look at Rosie, the ever watchful guardian of the kitchen floor in case you drop a morsel of something delicious. “We almost had it Rose..." You mock defeat, and she huffs a little bark.

Luckily, Sam came up from the basement at just the right moment. He laughed because it sounded kinda silly to him, 'don't come in here...' what’s she up to in there?

His gentle curiosity got the best of him. He had to know...

“What do you mean don’t come in here lovey, what are you-” he rounded the doorframe and stopped cold.

His kitchen, used mostly as the central hub of every kickback and sometimes a writing space for new lines and lyrics, was now flooded with light and soft sounds and good smells and…warmth. The kind of warmth that comes from someone cooking with a purpose other than hunger; like making a favorite meal reserved for a special occasions but doing it just because it’s tuesday… like a surprise party on your birthday... like a future he wants to wake up to every day... that kind of warmth...

He looked on the stove, there’s some kind of delicious looking sauce bubbling away next to a pot of freshly cooked pasta. Sides already on the kitchen island where you had set 2 place settings of simple white plates and cutlery. He realizes what you've been up here doing this whole time.

No way… his head said involuntarily. His heart was too busy thrumming and it made his ears ring a little. For me? He took another second to look around...

The dishes weren’t overwhelming, but he already saw himself after dinner with those stupid pink rubber gloves on that you bought as a joke, rinsing and drying as you sat at the island and told him he was doing it wrong. Not to nag him, but because “‘good enough’ is not clean… we can’t leave little spots on the dishes Samuel…”

Why was that so vivid… the thought doesn’t scare him - just catches him off guard. It was a nice image, a very nice one… One he intends to make real very soon… But he still doesn’t really know why he’s so shocked. Is shocked the right word?

You spend so much time together, it’s not that he takes your presence for granted. But now he’s seeing you, really seeing you for the first time all week. And your hair is a little messy from hastily putting it back to prep ingredients. And your cheeks are a little flushed from the heat of the stove and from your wine you cracked open when you got started. And you look like you're meant to be right there in that moment... like a scene in a storybook... like home…

He remembers you needed something from him and he couldn’t just keep staring…

“Did you cook??” he asks, sounding more shocked at the gesture than at your abilities. You’re still holding the dripping hi-ball glass over the sink, but you give him the softest smile he’s ever seen and he melts a little.

“Mhm… just kinda wanted to…" you shrug your shoulders like it's nothing. Because it was. A meal for him was nothing compared to the joy and color he brought back to your life. A meal was nothing compared to the appreciation and adoration he bestows upon you daily, hourly, by the second... a lifetime of meals wouldn’t be enough. But you can start with one, at least.

"paper towels??” You glance down at the mess on the counter. He didn’t even notice it until now… probably because that kind of dreamy haze had settled over his vision like in an old nostalgic photo. He lingers for one more second, imprinting the scene like a snapshot in his mind of the next 50 years with you. What’s a little spilled tequila?

He doesn’t know where the thought came from, but he’s suddenly sure he’s the happiest he’s ever been… he just likes you so much…. likes you… that doesn’t seem like enough anymore now does it…

That boyish smile of his bloomed across his sweet face, setting a swarm of monarch butterflies loose in your chest. Will that ever not make me feel all fluttery….. probably not…. He waltzed over to you, putting a little cocky sway in his stride as he came to stand at the sink with you. He took the glass out of your hand and set it down, grabbing a cloth towel from under the sink to wipe your hands off and then throwing it in the general direction of the spill, eyes never leaving you. “Whatcha thinkin’ about Samuel…” you prod sweetly.

He giggles a little… “Nothin.. just feels like you kinda like me is all…” Your turn to laugh… Like him? You’d give him all the stars if you could catch them.

“I think I’m startin’ to warm up to ya….” you tease back. His arms encircle your waist and he presses you close enough to him that you feel his hip bones, bodies resting as closely as they can together while he can still lean back to see your face. He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. It wasn’t in your face, he just wanted to touch you…

Then he says it so nonchalantly that it takes you a second to process it. “Yeah well I think I’m in love with you…” His eyes, teasing and playful a second ago, now the most earnest shade of gold you’ve ever seen, lips set in a small smile but with that full pout of his it looks like an all out smirk.

Baring souls together in the kitchen on a Wednesday evening… I could get used to this…

“Oh yeah?” You’re gonna leave him on the hook a little longer just because you can. He nods and gives a little “mhm,” giggling a little again as you copy him and tuck his hair behind his ears. I’m taller than her and she’s making me blush like a little schoolboy… jesus…

You lean up to whisper in his ear, lips ghosting over his cheek, “yeah, me too…”

#screams and cries and dies #and dies some more #SMAMMY I LOVE YOU I REALLY DO #Sam Kiszka #sam kiszka fluff #sam kiszka fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fluff

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riotwritesthings · 3 years

Text

Timing Isn’t Everything

WinterIron, T, 1k, Love Confession, Humor

@winterironmonth Prompt - SFW Sunday: Word, Dialogue

Word: Confession Dialogue: “Shit... I’m in love with him”

“So, when are you planning on finally admitting to the fact that you’re completely head-over-heels for him?” Steve asks flatly, and it takes a couple seconds for Bucky to actually register the words.

When he finally does, Bucky quickly tears his eyes away from watching Tony talk with his hands as he tells some story to Rhodey and Natasha by the bar. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Bucky tries to say, firmly ignoring the heat rising in his cheeks, but Steve just raises an eyebrow at him. “I don’t!”

“Okay,” Steve says, shrugging one shoulder, but Bucky just knows he isn’t letting it go that easily. Even before he opens his mouth again and asks “Remember those romance novels you used to steal from your sister? And made me swear never to mention to anyone ever?”

“Most pointedly no, I do not,” Bucky says, breaking out his absolute best death glare, but Steve continues on undaunted.

“Because if you did, I would point out that your pining could put them all to shame,” Steve says, glaring at him right back, “and if I have to see one more longing look from you I am going to go find a copy of one of those books. And throw it at you.”

“I’m not- I haven’t-” Bucky sputters, resisting the urge to glance around for an escape route, “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Uh-huh,” Steve says, crossing his arms, “so you’ve been staring wistfully at Tony all night and all month and for a year now for some other reason.”

“Yes,” Bucky says, and then quickly backtracks to add “no, I mean- I’m not… I’m just…”

“Watching him smile?” Steve asks, with that stupid smug grin he gets when he thinks he’s right about something.

“No!” Bucky says, maybe a little more vehemently than he intended, and then lowers his voice to hiss “I’m… staring at his ass!”

“Wow,” Steve says dryly, “great defense.”

Bucky’s pretty sure his face is on fire at this point, his heart racing in his chest almost painfully, and he’s just glad the rest of the team is scattered around the large common room of the tower. No one is close enough to hear Steve spewing this absolute nonsense.

Because Bucky’s not ‘head over heels’ for Tony, that’s ridiculous.

So what if he thinks Tony is the smartest person he’s ever met, that’s just true. And so what if he thinks Tony is drop-dead gorgeous, that’s also just the truth, like the fact that he’s perfectly snarky and unexpectedly thoughtful, with a heart bigger than anything Bucky has ever seen. So what if his smile makes Bucky’s heart trip all over itself in his chest, and if Bucky misses him when he’s gone for even the shortest of business trips, if Bucky has taken to buying stupid little trinkets for Tony and it makes him stupidly happy to see them scattered around Tony’s lab in little places of honor. Just because it makes his entire day, no matter what else he has going on, when Tony invites him to watch Star Trek or try some new restaurant, that doesn’t mean—

Fuck.

“Oh,” Bucky says stupidly, his heartbeat echoing in his ears as he quickly reevaluates everything he knows. Across the room Tony laughs loudly at something Thor says as he walks by, and the way Bucky’s heart twists and leaps in his chest feels both so familiar and entirely new. “Oh, fuck.”

“There you go,” Steve says, but Bucky barely registers the words or the heavy sigh that accompanies them, too busy trying to mentally reframe every interaction they’ve ever had and figure out how he didn’t notice.

Except if he’s really honest with himself... he’s always known, hasn’t he?

He saw it coming a mile away, in fact, didn’t he? The first time Tony found him lurking in a dark hallway in the middle of the night, as Bucky spent a lot of time doing when he first arrived at the tower, and Tony hadn’t asked any questions, he’d just raised his giant coffee mug in a salute and tossed Bucky a wink before resuming his own sleepless pacing. Bucky probably knew then, and the knowledge only grew with every interaction, as passing jokes became actual time together, what would happen, but apparently Bucky has been shoving that knowledge down ever since then, because it seems insane, seems like something he shouldn’t be capable of. But here he is, and it’s hitting him all at once.

“Shit…” Bucky breathes out, admitting it to himself as much as to Steve, “I’m in love with him.”

“Hallelujah,” Steve says sarcastically, then rolls his eyes and adds “you should think about telling him one of these days, too.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees numbly, his eyes finding Tony across the room again, “yeah, I…”

He’s distantly aware that Steve probably doesn’t mean right now, right this very second, but Bucky also knows himself.

Fuck, how long has he been denying the truth? And Bucky knows given the chance and too much time he’ll talk himself right out of saying anything, hell he’ll talk himself out of acknowledging that there’s even anything to say, and that—

Bucky can’t let that happen, if nothing else Tony deserves to know that he’s loved, that he’s amazing, and that’s about as far as Bucky gets in the thought process before he’s opening his mouth.

“Hey Tony!” Bucky shouts, loud enough to carry across the large room and draw everyone’s attention, but all that really matters is that Tony looks up at him, eyes bright and a small smile on his face. “I’m in love with you!”

Tony spits out the large sip of his drink he’d just taken, spraying Rhodey right in the face and then coughing harshly while Rhodey lets out a loud squawk.

Rhodey slaps Tony on the back, shooting a glare at Bucky while he wipes at his face with his free hand, and that’s about the time Bucky actually realizes what the fuck he just did. He can feel all the blood draining from his face, and apparently he’s swaying on his feet because Steve puts a hand on his shoulder like he needs to be steadied.

Natasha is giving him a look like she’s failing not to pity him, and he’s pretty sure that’s Clint and Sam he can hear cackle-laughing off to the side somewhere, but the only thing that matters is that when Tony finally catches his breath and looks up at him again, the smile on his face is blinding.

#my fic #Winteririon #starkbucks #bucky/tony #buckyxtony #AKA #Bucky and the least thought out confession of all time

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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

Note

Can I ask for an request where Levi is a soldier who is pointed to protect a royal person. Then he fell in love with her active attitude, smart brain and support to the scout

AN: This took me so long. I deleted it like three times on accident so this is as good as its going to get 😂. do let me know though if I misspelled anything I didn't skim over it sooooo YOLO.

Summary: Levi is asked to attend the summer gala with !princess reader.

Word Count: 2.8 K

Warnings: mentions of Levi's scarring, some cussing? I think? that's about it

__________

Levi's hand trembled as he ran the fine toothed comb through his damp hair. He scowled back at his own reflection, eyes avoiding the pink scars that marred his skin. It had been nearly a year since he had been discharged from the military due to his injuries. At first he had struggled to find a routine, having been in the military for more than half of his life, it was a huge loss.

His hand jerked unexpectedly and the comb pulled through a knot in his hair painfully. He clicked his tongue and dropped the comb, gripping the edges of the sink to steady himself.

How pathetic.

There was a time when he could complete these tasks with no problem. But now his body seemed to be failing him, if he stood for too long his joints protested, he struggled to hold a pen due to his lack of fingers. He also wore an eyepatch to cover his milky right eye and some of the scars that covered the right side of his face.

Normally Hange would help him get ready, they were the only person he could stomach seeing him this way. But Hange was busy, they had meetings all morning. So Levi was left on his own, and he managed as well as he could. Although it took him double the amount of time it usually took, he still did it.

He grabbed his cane on his way out of his humble apartment, the carriage was waiting for him outside. In the carriage was the last person he wished to see, Zeke Jaeger. His glasses glinted in the sunlight as the coachman held the door for Levi who sat as far away from the war chief as possible.

Zeke blew out a puff of smoke, which swirled around in the small space. Levi's lip curled into a sneer, and Zeke smirked pleased to rouse a reaction from the retired Captain.

"Big day today eh Levi?" He spoke around his cigarette and Levi rolled his eyes.

"I suppose." He agreed, eyes never leaving the man.

That was about the only words exchanged between the two, the ride was thankfully short. The carriage arrived to the castle just after noon, the coachmen opened the door for Levi and Zeke. The sunlight was bright and made Levi squint, it didn't help that the castle seemed to glow as the sun bounced off of it.

"This way old friend." Zeke instructed and Levi followed begrudgingly, Zeke led Levi through the halls and into a large ball room. The castle staff was scurrying about, carrying massive bouquets of flowers and other decorations in preparation for the summer gala. Levi had attended this very event many times over his career, but he had not intended on joining in this year. Zeke paused a few feet away from Erwin, who was standing before a young woman Levi had met a handful of times. You had aged in the past two years that he hadn't seen you, although you weren't any taller, he could see the age on your face. Much as he assumed you could see in his, you also carried yourself more confidently, shoulders back, chin up.

Erwin paused and turned to greet the two men, who both saluted him and you.

"Captain, how nice to see you." You hummed, a pleased glint in your eyes as you curtsied, much to his surprise.

"You as well Zeke." You seemed less excited to see the war chief.

"Princess, you look lovely." Zeke closed the distance between the two of you, taking your hand a bit too eagerly and bringing it to his lips. You smiled a bit tersely, but allowed it.

"Ah, and you look...as hairy as the last time we met." Your jab threw Levi off, but Erwin seemed to have expected the exchange. Zeke laughed heartily and pulled back.

"Such a sharp tongue on you princess." He chuckled and you shrugged, a smug grin on those lips of yours.

"You make it easy."

"Princess, you are aware that Levi is to accompany you to this year's gala yes?" Erwin steered the conversation in a more relevant direction and you nodded.

"Mhm, and I'm very excited to be escorted by Eldia's most eligible bachelor." Levi wasn't sure if you meant it sincerely, or if it was his turn to face the wrath of your sharp words.

"I'm sure you are." Erwin chuckled, his hand falling on the back of your tricep. You gathered your skirts and took a few steps closer to Levi.

"The last time we met, you weren't keen on dancing, I do hope that's changed." You smirked at him and Levi barely fought the flush off of his cheeks as you pushed past him.

"We can go in the drawing room and discuss logistics, the gala is a mere week away after all-" Levi tuned out whatever it was Erwin was babbling about, too focused on watching you saunter out of the room.

Levi spent the next week trailing behind Erwin, attending meetings and luncheons with other high ranking military members. It was boring, but nothing that he hadn't done before. The day of the gala, Hange arrived with the remaining of the 104th cadet corps. Levi felt great relief at seeing the familiar faces, Hange had eagerly came to hug him, and he pretended to hate it. Mikasa even came and gave him the briefest of embraces, Connie had been the most excited, throwing his arms around his former captain and squeezing him tightly. Armin had grinned sheepishly, and offered a small wave. Jean just nodded respectively in Levi's direction. Gabby and Falco had tagged along as well, wearing their best uniforms, decorated with their medals.

"I can't believe we get to come to the summer gala!" Connie gushed, his hazel eyes wide as he soaked in the castle in all of its glory.

"We won a war." Jean huffed, eyes sharp, hand fidgeting with his medal on his lapel.

"We lost more than we won." Mikasa murmured, her own shaky hands reaching for a scarf that was no longer wrapped around her neck. The cheery mood quickly dissipated at Mikasa's statement, Hange cleared their throat and clapped their hands in an attempt to drag everyone from their thoughts.

"Let's go meet Erwin then." They said, and Levi nodded.

"Let's." The group walked through the halls, Hange in the lead and Levi at their side, it felt like old times. The kids, well they weren't really kids anymore, were beginning to return to their annoying selves.

"-will we be able to eat the food?" Gabby asked, and Levi nearly flinched, the statement reminded him all too much of Sasha. Connie seemed less phased, he sighed and brought his arms behind his neck as they walked.

"I sure hope so."

"We're here on business." Mikasa reminded them and Jean hummed in agreement.

"We're here as representatives." Armin added, and Hange chuckled.

"Use this as an opportunity children." Hange cooed, pausing in front of the doors to the drawing room.

"Have some fun, get drunk, you've earned it." Hange then pushed the doors open, revealing the cozy drawing room, Erwin sat with his legs crossed in one of the arm chairs, a book in his lap. He closed the book and stood, his sleeve hanging limply where his arm once was.

"Cadets, erm or should I say captains." Erwin chuckled awkwardly as the kids all jumped to salute him, fists clenched over their hearts.

"Commander." They all greeted in unison.

"Sit, we have much to discuss."

The discussion was rather tame, a short bit of it had been relevant. Where the kids were to stand, what they were to say and how they were expected to act. The rest of the afternoon had been spent catching up and enjoying each other's company. Just a few hours before the guests were to arrive, Erwin sent the group off to find their spots.

Levi found himself waiting outside of your room, his watch gripped tightly in his fist, watching the minutes tick by. You emerged about fifteen minutes after him arriving, your dress was a deep emerald green, elegantly hugging your frame in all of the right places. You smoothed the silk gown skirts and smiled at him, the red lipstick on your lips making your teeth seem extra white.

"You look ravishing Captain." You complimented, accepting his arm before walking slowly down the hall, careful to keep his pace.

"...as do you." He choked out, a blush tickling his ears.

"Did you get all done up for me?" You pressed, hand tightening around his bicep.

"No." He answered, although he was partially lying, the truth was all he could think about as he dressed, was you. How would you be dressed? Was he to match you? Or was he expected to wear his usual military dress? He had opted for the latter, and it seemed to work well, the inky black dress coat and the gold medals that decorated his lapels seemed to compliment the emerald in your dress.

"Well, I sure hope that you will at least dance with me." You pouted, shooting him a hopeful look.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue, truthfully it was all that he could mange, he was nervous enough about joining you this evening. But you asking him to dance? He had never danced in his life, and with his legs in the state they were in now?

The two of you stopped, overlooking the ball room which was already filled with guests, milling about with flutes of champagne. You snuck a glance at Levi, who was looking down at the crowd with a bored glaze over his eyes.

"Ready?" You asked, squeezing his bicep once and he nodded, chin held high as the two of you slowly made your way down the staircase. Levi's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces, which he found in their designated spots. He knew that the king had asked him to accompany his daughter largely as a political move, not for protection as he had in the past. But old habits die hard, he double checked exits and kept an eye out for shady people, it was easier than looking at you after all. Not because you were ugly, rather the opposite, you were stunning and that intimidated him.

After at least forty five minutes of socializing, the dancing began and you tugged impatiently on his arm, which you had yet to let go of.

"Please Levi, just this once." You whispered so only he could hear, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at your closeness.

"Princess." He said sternly, although his voice did shake a tad, and you grinned, knowing that you had nearly convinced him.

"Captain." You countered, taking a step towards the dance floor.

"Just one." he said after a moment's hesitation before falling back in step with you.

"Just one." You affirmed with a wicked grin as you led him into the mass of bodies.

Levi felt his pulse race, his anxiety was roaring he had absolutely no clue how to dance, especially with his legs in the state that they were. You seemed to sense this, carefully taking his hand and resting it on your hip as you stepped ever so closely to him. Your chest was pressed against his, and he was sure that you could feel the pounding of his heart as it threatened to escape his ribcage.

"You just follow my lead." You whispered as he brought his other hand to rest naturally in the palm of yours. He nodded, eyes wandering down to glance at his feet, which were partially concealed by your skirts.

"It goes something like this, step-" You took a step towards him and he took one back.

"Then to the left," You instructed softly and he obliged, the two of you moving slightly out of sync.

"Then forwards again." You nodded as he stepped forwards and you stepped back, skirt swaying.

"Then to the right," You chuckled as his brows remained fixed in a tight knot as he tried to focus.

"Then we do it again." You seemed satisfied, and he nodded it was simple enough, although he could already feel the strain of the activity in his joints.

"Easy." He huffed, taking the lead and you giggled and fell into step with him.

"Tell me Levi, when you went across the ocean and fought those men, who were you fighting for?" The question caught him off guard and he nearly forgot the next step.

"That's an odd question." Levi shot you a mean look and you shrugged.

"I want to know what pushed Humanities strongest to be so strong." You answered, unfazed by his sour look.

"I fight for the people." He replied curtly and you sighed.

"That's a boring answer, I want to know what really drives you." You pressed and Levi frowned.

"Its the truth."

"Then tell me a lie." You raised a brow, challenging him and he screwed his nose up in distaste.

"Why would you want me to lie to you?" He asked out of genuine curiosity, no one had ever given him such a request.

"To spice some things up I guess." You hummed nonchalantly and squeezed your hand that held his.

"Then I would tell you I fought that war for you." He regretted the words, but you seemed to be pleased by them.

"Aw so you did think of me while we were apart." You cooed and Levi nearly broke away from you, but he only gripped your hand harder.

"You were the last thing on my mind." he huffed and you let out a throaty laugh. A lie, he thought of you often.

"You really are funny." You let your head fall affectionately into the crook of his neck and he swallowed thickly, as your scent washed over him.

"I didn't mean to be."

"I know, that's what makes it funny." Your breath tickled his neck as you spoke, you seemed to be in no hurry to pull away.

"Hmph." He hummed stupidly, unable to form words with you so close.

The song ended and you lifted your head, one of those wide grins sprawled across your lips.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" You whispered cheekily and he scoffed as the two of you exited the dance floor. You both found a seat at one of the tables set on the outskirts of the room, taking a break to drink and enjoy each others company.

Levi rubbed his knee under the table, the dance had truly taken a toll on him and he barely suppressed a groan. You noticed, shooting him a concerned look.

"Does it bother you often?" You asked, dragging your chair closer to his. He rolled his eye and pulled his hand slowly away from his leg.

"No."

"You're lying, just tell me the truth."

"I thought you wanted me to lie to you." He snapped back and you scoffed.

"Not about this." You reasoned and he sighed deeply.

"Yes, it hurts like a bitch." He turned to face you, his knee knocking yours and you frowned.

"You should've told me, I wouldn't have made you dance."

"I-" He paused, catching himself before the words left his mouth. But after one look at your open and concerned face he couldn't not say what he had been wanting to say.

"I wanted to." He admitted and your eyes widened a fraction.

"You...really wanted to?" Your words were raw and clearly Levi had caught you, the witty young princess off guard.

"I did."

"Would you do it again?"

"Yes."

"Hm." A smug look crossed your face and Levi scowled at you, not liking the way you seemed to be plotting something unbeknownst to him.

"What?" He snapped and you let out a short burst of laughter.

"I knew that you weren't lying when you said that you thought about me." You teased and he growled lowly under his breath.

"Maybe that was your last dance with me."

"Easy now, let's not be hasty, we have the whole night after all darling." You patted his shoulder, standing slowly and walking around the back of his chair to squeeze his shoulders before slipping off into the crowd.

He hoped that you meant it, that you would come back even if he could not dance with you again. He hoped that you had thought of him too, that his fighting had all been worth it. To spend the rest of his life by your side, even if he was just your guard or even a political ploy. He would do it for you, and he would do so happily.

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emmyhem · 4 years

Text

stormy fears & feelings (l.r.h)

a/n: hey everyone! here’s “stormy fears & feelings”, this is a nonfamous au with roommate!luke. (unedited as usual) this was really fun to write, i intended for it to be short and sweet but i ended up writing for longer than i had originally planned. anyway, i hope you enjoy and are having a great day/night/whatever. i appreciate any and all feedback, and as always my messages are always if you want to chat or anything :) thank youuuu - emmy <33

pairing: roommate!luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: a thunderstorm leaves you awake and scared, and going to your standoffish roommate, who you happen to have an extremely inconvenient crush on for comfort may be your only option to get a good night of sleep.

warning(s): cursing, extremely minor injury, minor angst if you squint

word count: 5k

It really was an awful idea. In any other case it wouldn’t have even crossed your mind, but you had been on edge all week for no specific reason and thunderstorms had always spooked you.

The storm had started unexpectedly. If you had known earlier you would have ran to the store to buy Nyquil before going to bed, but with it sneaking up on you, you were huddled under your blankets, eyes squeezed impossibly tight in hopes to drown out the loud crashes and blinding flares of light flooding your bedroom window.

When the thought originally passed through your head it was more of an internal sarcastic remark than a possible solution.

I mean, you had been living with your roommate, Luke for over 4 months now, but you weren’t really friends. You would occasionally chat with him if you were both up and about around the apartment, which was pretty rare seeing as Luke seemed to avoid you for the most part. Hurrying out of a room when you entered, ending conversations quickly, and always being conveniently busy when you had attempted to make plans to get to know each other better. Your living arrangement had only come to be because you had heard through a friend he was looking for a roommate at the same time that you had happened to be on the lookout for a new place. Your relationship consisted mainly of half-hearted greetings and subtle avoidances of each other. So, going to him for comfort wasn’t a viable option to soothe your nerves.

Even if you did, what would you expect him to do?

Sit up with you? No, not when you knew he had to wake up early for work.

Talk you down? He wouldn’t even know what to say in the first place, your typical conversations were made up of checking if there was still coffee, or deciding whose turn it was to do the dishes.

Offer up a space in his bed? Absolutely not. That was the most unthinkable of them all. If it wasn’t for the fact that Luke had always seemed pretty adamant with his personal space, sometimes tensing up if you even sat too close to him on the couch. Your annoying and inconvenient crush that had started the day you moved in, just wouldn’t allow the two of you to be in such close quarters without your heart racing and your head dizzying.

It was out of the question, end of discussion.

With that being said it only took one more boom of thunder to have you shoot up from your bed and pad quietly into the hallway, with fuzzy sock clad feet and a large quilt wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

You stared at his bedroom door hesitantly until the next strike, during which you knocked ever so lightly and muttered a soft,

“Luke,”

After a minute and no reply you resorted to giving up on your plan and heading to the kitchen to drink a cup of tea, in hopes it may help. The idea was good enough, but you had failed to consider the noise that comes along with it. And as if the whistling of the kettle and clattering of the mugs wasn’t enough, the next roar of thunder sent you into a shock causing you to stub your toe on the corner of the cabinet and let out a pained yelp. You quickly slapped a hand over your mouth and sunk to the floor to assess the damage as you heard rustling and a door opening from the hall.

Luke was in the kitchen in a matter of seconds, his long legs carrying him there within just a few steps. He hit a light switch, causing the kitchen to glow a dim yellow.

“Y/n, you alright?” he grumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he approached your crouched position on the floor.

“Yea, yea I’m okay. Sorry, I woke you up.” you responded, mentally kicking yourself for causing such a disruption.

“S’alright. What’s goin’ on? Why are you up?” he spoke, offering you a hand to pull yourself up.

You accepted it, trying your hardest to ignore how warm it felt, and how easily it enveloped your own as you returned to your feet.

“Uh, I just had a hankering for chamomile.” you lied. You really should’ve thought this through. Now that he was standing in front of you, admitting your fear of thunderstorms seemed daunting. You were an adult for chrissakes, an adult that was left shaking at the mere thought of a considerably common weather phenomenon.

His eyebrows tugged in confusion as he glanced between you and the kettle.

“Did you knock at my door a couple minutes ago?” he questioned as you watched the window over the sink nervously.

Your eyebrows raised a bit at the inquiry.

“Thought I heard something, but then I figured I must’ve just imagined it. Y’know, woken myself up.” he continued.

“Um, yep that was me.” you admitted, turning your back to him in hopes to hide your embarrassment.

“So, was there a reason, or?”

“Right, yea a reason.” you paused, searching for an excuse in your drowsy and distracted brain. “I wondered if you wanted a cup.”

“In the middle of the night?” your subconscious deadpanned as your face scrunched in displeasure.

You turned back around to face him, holding a mug out for him.

Confusion and a glint of amusement was painted across his features as he spoke,

“You wanted to know if I wanted a cup of tea,” he peeked at the clock behind you. “at 2:30 in the morning?”

As you opened your mouth to defend your admittedly bad excuse another crash of thunder rumbled from the sky, causing your body to jump in fear and your hand to release its grip on the ceramic mug. Luke took a step back just in time as it shattered to pieces on the floor.

You brought two shaky hands to your face and pressed yourself against the cabinet, cowering as far back as possible.

“Hey, s’okay. It’s just thunder.” Luke said, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You peeked out through your hands before dropping them from your face all together.

Realization sparked on his face as your eyes met his.

“Are you afraid of thunderstorms?” Despite his tone being soft, sweet even, you were sure he was making fun of you.

“I-uh, no. No I’m not.” you rushed out, attempting to push past him and scurry into your bedroom.

“Y/n, the glass.” he warned, his grip on your shoulder tightened, not allowing you to move.

“Was that why you knocked earlier?”

You nodded, hesitantly your eyes dropping to the floor.

“I don’t know why, I just- thunderstorms have freaked me out since I was little and I normally would take something to help me fall asleep, but I didn’t have anything and...I shouldn’t even have tried to wake you up in the first place, there’s nothing you could do and we aren’t even friends or anything. Probably don’t even like me, I mean you can hardly even stand to be in the same room as me. Anyways I’ll be fine, lemme clean this up and then i’ll just head to my ro-” you rambled, not even pausing to take a breath.

“You think I don’t like you?” he interrupted.

Fuck. Was the scare so intense oxygen had been cut off from your brain? Why would you say all that? He didn’t need to know that you took notice of the fact that he avoided your company like the plague.

Instead of responding you opted for grabbing the dustpan, the sooner the floor was clean the sooner you could get back to your room. Where you would sit awake in fear, by yourself for the rest of the night, no doubt replaying this embarrassing interaction over and over again.

Luke stood seemingly frozen as you kneeled down beside him attempting to gather the broken shards, which was proving to be difficult with such shaky hands.

With another bolt of lightening your hand shuddered and slipped from the brush, hitting a shard and slicing a thin cut on the pad of your pointer finger.

“Shit” you hissed, dropping the dustpan to examine the tiny gash.

Luke’s head snapped in your direction, eyes immediately filling with concern.

“Ow” you whined quietly.

He dropped down next to you and took the finger into his hands.

“You should clean this out, I’ll finish this up.” he nodded to the remaining glass.

“I can get it.” you protested. “You should get to bed, you have to work tomorrow.” you continued, making your way to the sink.

“So do you.” he responded flatly, already finishing up cleaning as you looked around for a band aid. When you finally located the box of bandages Luke was behind you.

“Lemme see.” he said, taking one from the box while he examined your finger.

You watched his face intently as he carefully wrapped your cut with squinted eyes and a small pout.

You had never seen Luke during the night. There was a certain softness to him that was completely foreign to you, one that made the thought of cuddling into him seem far too appealing for your liking.

“I do like you, y/n.” he broke you out of your thoughts, uttering it so quietly you thought you may have imagined it.

You nodded in acknowledgement, not knowing how to respond without further embarrassing yourself.

“I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t”

At this point he had finished bandaging you up which made the fact that he was still standing a mere inches apart from you with his hand wrapped around yours, all the more affecting.

“M’sorry I even brought it up, I’m just tired cause of the storm, and apparently I lose a filter with no sleep.”

His hand lightly squeezed yours as you spoke, and the butterflies that erupted in your stomach as he did so told you it was time to go back to your room. You gingerly tugged your hand away, ignoring the way Luke’s expression faltered when you did.

“I’m sorry again, about all of this. You should get some sleep.”

“Will you be able to?”

“I’ll be fine, one night of lost sleep is hardly the end of the world.” you responded, taking a step towards the hallway. Luke caught your arm before you got far.

“Yea, but you lose your filter when you're tired, you said it yourself.” A small grin grew on his face as he continued. “Can’t have you spilling all your secrets tomorrow.”

Was he joking around with you?

Before you could stop it, a pleased smile appeared on your face. This was new. You didn’t even know he had a sense of humor, he had never attempted to share it with you before.

“I’m sure I can control myself.” you returned, attempting to go once more. Of course, his voice stopped your movements within a second.

“Y/n, let me help. How can I help?”

The plausible reasoning for his sudden generosity was that he was feeling guilty or maybe even embarrassed that you were under the impression he didn’t like you. But that didn’t stop your entire body to warm at the offer.

“There’s really not much to do.” you started. “I think the only reason I knocked in the first place is because I’m used to having some company when I get scared. Big family, y’know there was never a shortage of beds I could crawl into.”

“Company!” he repeated, eyes lit up. “I can do that. I have it on very good authority that I’m an excellent cuddler.”

Your body froze at his words. He couldn’t be serious, right? There’s no way he had any interest in that, even if it was just for your sake.

He must’ve noticed your tenseness at the proposition because before you got a chance to respond, a bright red blush overtook his cheeks and he squeaked out,

“Or the floor, I could always take the floor. I mean company can be just my presence in the room, I guess. If you want.”

“No. I mean-um, I could go for a cuddle.” you heart answered before your brain got the chance to interfere.

He smiled at you warmly.

“Alright then.”

You had never been into Luke’s room before, I mean not really. Sometimes you would sit his laptop in there if he had left it out or lay a sweatshirt of his on the foot of the bed but you had never actually been inside. It was slightly messy, there was a pile of clean, unfolded laundry on a desk chair, and a few empty water bottles scattered around but for the most part it was clean. On his bed the blankets were strewn about from where he must’ve been sleeping earlier, a pile of pillows stacked high on the right side, and it could’ve just been how tired you were but you had never wanted to crawl into a bed more.

“I like your room.” you whispered, as he spread the pillows out more evenly across the top of the mattress.

“Why’re we whispering?”

“It’s nighttime.”

“Y/n, we’re the only people who live here and we’re both awake.” he teased, laughing while shaking his head.

“Oh, right.”

He gestured a hand to the bed, “Ladies first.”

Hesitantly you sat, your back pressed against the mound of pillows Luke had compiled for you, shortly after he took a seat next to you, leaving a few inches of space between your legs. You looked down to your lap, aware of how awkward of a position the two of you were in, neither knowing how to go about this. Luke spoke first,

“Are you warm enough?”

“Yea, thanks.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in response. “Do you wanna watch something?”

“M’pretty tired.” you replied. “We should probably just go to sleep.”

“Yeah, right.” he nodded, watching you.

It seemed he was waiting for you to get comfortable, like he didn’t want to push any boundaries that you weren’t ready to cross.

Unsurely you scooted your body down in the bed till you were fully horizontal, took one more glance at Luke and then turned your back to him, pulling the duvet up over your shoulders. With his blanket pulled up just under your nose you subtly breathed in the pine and vanilla aroma that you recognized as his body wash. You’d never admit to it but occasionally you’d spend a little extra time in the shower inhaling the fresh scent.

A dip in the mattress told you that Luke had laid down and within a few minutes you were sure he was sleeping again. You were feeling a bit more calm, trying your hardest to ignore every loud crash of thunder and instead focus on counting the seconds between each soft breath Luke exhaled.

Just as a drowsy haze began to come over you, straining your eyelids and fogging up your brain a particularly alarming rumble broke the silence causing your body to jerk and your breath to catch. Luke grumbled quietly beside you and you could feel him rolling around. As you opened your mouth to apologize for waking him a warm hand slipped just under the hem of your shirt, rubbing soothing circles onto the bare skin of your hip. Your body tightened at the unexpected contact and you strained your neck to look at him over your shoulder.

“Luke,”

“Go to sleep, m’right here.” he mumbled without even opening his eyes.

You faced back around but placed a hand over his and removed it from your body. This must’ve worried Luke because he pushed himself up on his elbow, eyes blinking open as you turned to face him.

“Was that not good? I’m sorry, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” he rambled through a defense.

“No,” you shushed, pressing a hand to his chest to lightly push him back down. “s’good.” you assured while pulling his arm over your body as you tucked yourself into his chest. Your bodies were completely flush in this new position. “This is better.” you murmured, your nose bumping his chest as you made yourself comfortable.

He hummed softly in agreement, his hand finding its way to your hair, cupping the back of your head.

Sleep was sweeping over you fast like this, the sound of Luke’s heartbeat drowning out any daunting noise coming from outside. Not to mention that anytime your body so much as twitched Luke’s arms would tighten around you ever so slightly as if to assure he was still there with you.

When the sun had risen you woke up to the sound of soft snores, and the feeling of tiny puffs of air on your forehead. As you tried to roll over and stretch your limbs you found your legs were tangled with someone else’s and your cheek was practically glued to the faded grey cotton that adorned your roommate’s chest.

“Luke.” you called, using your hand to shake him awake.

“Shh” he whined, repositioning you both so your back was snug against his chest.

“We have work.” you mumbled, trying to squirm out of his hold. It proved ineffective as he just tightened his arms around your stomach.

He grumbled something incoherently that sounded an awful lot like “No, stay with me please. So warm.” but that couldn’t have been it. Right?

Afraid he would dig himself further into this hole of sleepy deliriousness, you began to rouse him, prying yourself out of his arms and promising him a hot cup of coffee if he met you in the kitchen within ten minutes.

You quickly washed your face, brushed your hair and teeth and made your way to the kitchen to fix two cups of coffee. Luke stumbled out of his bedroom just a few minutes later, his eyes squinted under the natural light flooding the windows and he seemed to almost glide across the tile until you and his coffee were in arm’s reach.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” you greeted in a teasing tone, pushing the mug across the counter to him.

He hummed and took two large sips before turning his attention fully to you.

“G’morning, did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah, I actually did.” you affirmed. “Thank you for everything last night, Luke.” you rested your hand over his on the countertop, squeezing it once lightly to express your gratitude.

When you pulled it away Luke’s eyes lingered over where your hand had previously been before he dragged his gaze up to meet your eyes.

He released a deep sigh before speaking, “Happy to help, I’m honestly glad the storm happened.”

“Happy to see me scared shitless, are we Hemmings?”

He laughed through a denial, leaning forward to press his forehead on your shoulder where your loose fitting shirt had slipped.

Your posture straightened as your stomach tied itself in knots, each one tightening with every exhale that brushed your bare skin.

“No, I’m just glad that we can finally y’know, be-”

“Friends.” you cut off. Because that’s what you would be, you had to remind yourself. You wouldn’t have Luke’s bed to crawl into every night. You wouldn’t have his firm chest under your palms each morning, or his hands tangled in your hair. Especially not in the way you really wanted them.

Luke pulled off of you like he had been electrically shocked.

“Friends” he repeated, and if you weren’t so busy pitying yourself you may have heard the subtle lilt in his voice that caused the word to come out as more of a question than a statement.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, and as the minutes passed this interaction was starting to feel more like the ones you typically had with Luke.

“We should get ready for work, you have to go soon.” he spoke up, already walking away.

“We should do something tonight.” you suggested. This is what you were afraid of, you had grown attached already. “Maybe watch something or, I don’t know.” Anything to be near you again.

“I won’t be home.” he clipped, closing his bedroom door behind him.

It really was an awful idea.

You hurried through your morning routine, carefully selecting any time you had to leave your bedroom to avoid bumping into Luke. What had gone wrong? Had the word friends spooked him? If that was the case, what would he have done if he found out what you really wanted to say?

Either way you left feeling confused and rejected, so quickly you didn’t even realise you had forgotten your car keys until you were on the sidewalk outside your complex.

“Shit.” you cursed, turning on your heel and storming back in the building.

Once you had expertly made your way back inside the apartment and retrieved your keys, being as quiet as humanly possible to not alert Luke to the fact that you had re-entered, you were halfway out the door when the utterance of your name froze your movements.

“She just left for work.”

Luke must’ve been on the phone, but why was he talking about you? Curiosity got the best of you and you quietly shut the door with you on the inside, work could wait.

“Because, Cal that’s not what she wants.” he sighed.

He was talking to Calum? The only friend you shared, and the connection through which you got a room here in the first place.

“She wants to be my friend and I can’t do that. Not with her.”

“Why not?” you whispered to yourself, taking a step further inside to hear him better.

“No, it’s not better than nothing at all. I can’t be her friend ‘cause anytime she’s near me all I can think about is kissing her.”

Your stomach dropped at his words and a small gasp escaped your mouth. All the dots began adding up in your head. The avoiding? Well he had just explained that, and honestly it was the best excuse you’d ever heard. His behavior last night? You had caught him with his guard down, he was forced to let you in. His sudden annoyance at the word friends this morning? You had shot him down and you hadn’t even realized it. You liked Luke, and he actually liked you back.

“Actually, avoiding does work.” he continued, breaking you from your thoughts.

You could hear the mumble of Calum’s response but unfortunately couldn’t make out any of the words.

“Last night was an exception, she was all cute and scared. There’s no way I could’ve turned her away. I’ll go right back to avoiding, and things’ll go back to normal. Suffer in silence, I’m telling you it works.”

That’s not what you wanted, not at all. The creak of floorboards alerted you to Luke’s approaching and you hastily snuck out the front door, your mind running through possible solutions the whole way to your car.

Luke hadn’t lied when he said he wouldn’t be home, which meant he was taking this whole avoiding thing seriously. It was 1:30 am and you were still up waiting for him, your seat at the dining room table was losing its appeal as your back cramped in pain. The original plan you had concocted in the hours you spent daydreaming about him at work was to wait up for him, lure him into a movie night and make a move while the two of you were cuddled up on the couch. You hadn’t planned for him to be out this late though, and in all honesty you were starting to worry. You hoped he was just crashing at a friend’s, you hoped he wasn’t alone, you really hoped he wasn’t with another girl.

Discouraged, you moved your pity party into your bedroom, flopping onto your bed and groaning loudly into a pillow. You rolled onto your back, wasting time by counting the blades of the ceiling fan in each slow rotation.

You were at 231 in your counting when you heard the front door open followed by the clambering of footsteps. You perked up and angled your ear towards the hall.

“Please be alone. Please be alone. Please be alone.” you repeated quietly to yourself as the steps got closer. From the light protruding the crack under your bedroom door, you saw the shadow of a figure approach. You held your breath in anticipation of the knock you figured was coming. A few minutes passed, nothing came, and soon enough the shadow disappeared and Luke retreated to his bedroom.

You stared out your window and for the first time in your life found yourself hoping for a storm. The sky was clear, hardly a cloud in sight, and the moonlight was warm and prominent. It would look so pretty on Luke’s face right now, all soft eyes and drowsy expressions.

It seemed a shame to sleep by yourself, he was just across the hall, the promise of his warm embrace taunting you.

You huffed in exasperation and jumped to your feet, “Here goes nothing.”

You didn’t bother being quiet as you advanced to his door, leaving three heavy knocks on the worn oak.

You could hear him shuffling inside and then the intimidating creak of the hinges, revealing him to you.

“Are you okay?” he questioned sluggishly, his body slumping against the door frame.

“Can I sleep in here?” you asked instead of answering. No time to waste here.

“Um, it’s not storming?”

“I know. Can I?”

“Is there a reason?” he breathed, his heavy eyes drifting down your face to land unabashedly on your lips, which you were chewing in anxiousness.

“I have a crush on you.” you blurted, causing him to shoot up from his languid lean.

“What?”

“I have this big stupid crush on you. I have ever since I moved in but I thought you hated me because you always avoided me, but now I know that you like me too and I don’t see the point in us sleeping in separate beds anymore.” you continued, your eyes glued to a dip in the hardwood floor.

“How did you ev-”

“I heard you on the phone with Calum earlier.” you interrupted to explain, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I swear I wasn’t spying or anything, I forgot my keys.”

Without saying a word Luke stepped to the side allowing you entrance. You shuffled past him but didn’t make it far before his hand caught your forearm and smoothly tugged you a mere inches from him.

He spoke through heavy breaths, eyes flitting to your own as you faced him for the first time since your declaration.

“You like me?”

You could only nod, your brain completely fogged by the close proximity.

His eyes fell from your eyes to your now bitten lips, “Can I?” he sighed as his hand found your chin, thumb brushing the skin timidly.

“Y-yea” you agreed, leaning into his touch.

He closed the gap between you with a gentle press of his lips, his hand slowly dragging up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake until it was tangled in your hair. As you relaxed into his hold his movements became more fervent, his tongue begging for entrance which you allowed when your mouth fell open with a flustered sigh.

Luke stumbled backward dragging you along with him until the back of his calves met the foot of the bed and he dropped to sit on the edge, you standing between his legs. You pulled apart to breath and he spoke raggedly,

“My heart…” he trailed off catching his breath.

“What?” you muttered.

“Feel it.” he continued, taking your hand and pressing it to his heart which you could feel thumping rapidly through the warmth of his skin.

You laid your forehead against the top of his head, moving both of your hands to your own chest.

“Me too.”

He tugged on your sweatshirt until you were seated securely on his knee, his hands grasping at your waist.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” he drawled before he began alternating pecks, and light nibbles down your neck until he reached the spot he could feel your pulse thrumming from. He lets his lips rest there for a while and reveled in the fact that you were just as affected as him. He pulled away when you spoke up.

“Where were you tonight?”

“Moped around Calum’s place until he kicked me out, told me I needed to deal with my shit.” he answered, the hand he was resting on your upper thigh caressing the skin through your pajama pants.

“I heard you outside my door earlier.” you admitted leaning into his side.

“I came home with every intention of telling you but I chickened out.”

“What would you have told me?” you wondered aloud.

“That I like you, and that last night was amazing. That I don’t want to sleep without you again if I don’t have to.”

Luke took notice of the fact that your eyelids were drooping as he talked and began to scoot you both back in the bed as he continued.

He watched in awe as you curled into his side.

“Up for a breakfast date tomorrow, love?” he asked, pulling the blanket over you both.

“Yes, please.” you agreed, laying your palm flat against the warmth radiating from his stomach.

“So what should we do with your room?” Luke said drowsily, sleep beginning to creep up on him as well.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you won’t be needing it anymore since you’re moving in here.” he comments casually, pushing your hair out of your face with soft movements.

You laugh lightly but it’s drowned by the yawn that slips out when you respond.

“In your dreams, Hemmings.”

“If I’m lucky.” he replied, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. “Goodnight y/n.”

“Night, Lu.”

#luke hemmings #luke 5sos #luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings one shots #luke hemmings fluff #5sos imagines #5sos imagine #5sos preferences #5sos fluff #luke hemmings drabble #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings blurb #5sos drabbles

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olderthannetfic · 3 years

Note

Quite interesting what you expose about Queer baiting, I had thought that some media accidentally creates a fandom who is reading too much into it (some fandoms sometimes just cling to strays with their desperate need when there hardly is anything to read), but I seriously had my doubts about Supernatural and Sherlock. Mainly because it was kind of cruel on their parts when they eventually knew the kind of fandom they got as the years progressed. They went to conventions and they made exclusive fan interactions. I would think that the producer's, writers, directors and actors would take a least a bit of interest on the people who were the greatest contribution to their success.

Let's not kid ourselves, those numbers and sales of merchandise and the hype, can only be ignited and rallied by the really intense fans. Or at least that's what used to think. So of course it wouldn't be that much of a stretch of imagination that this "silly gay joke" was in fact a concealed slap in the face to the fans for wishing to see something they desired. Like spraying the fans with water like unruly cats needing to calm the duck down. I was a bit disappointed by Mark Gatiss, being gay and all, but of course, being gay doesn't automatically made you a political woke rebel with a discurse to change the world (I would know, being an old trans who wants nothing but to cisspass and live in the crowd irl)

I suppose that in the end, it's true that we are a meaningless number in the capitalistic industry of entreteiment, and that the old idea that the fandom has any kind of pull over their favorite shows is just a delusional idea.

But still, an unintentionally wrong doing, it's still a wrong doing. It means that representation still is a problem because the creators and powers that be, don't even acknowledge that people exist in the first place. They may be not evilly toying with us, but is worse when they don't even think we exist.

And when they do, like Netflix and most of his shows, it's just so poorly done for shock value and token representation that is often, just cringe worthy. Anyways, I would like your opinion on the bury your gays trope.

I mean, for while gays were dropping like flies on violent tv shows. Like dude, we are the new POC on a horror movie?. Gays died second lol. Example, the Chubby chick in The Walking Dead. Like literally seconds after saying she's a lesbian. She drops dead unexpectedly. And come on, even if its one of those "anyone can die type of show" that was... ridiculously dumb when they spend whole episodes bulling her story.

I agree that shows are bad at queer rep.

But I disagree that Sherlock was bad in this way. It did plenty of other things wrong (like Irene Adler), but it started out intending not to go for Johnlock, and it continued not to go for Johnlock.

I know that fans assumed TPTB were lying because they lied about other things, but they were still quite clear that canon Johnlock was not part of their plans.

Big media is often quite homophobic, but one point I want to drive home to fans is this:

Queer people who work in big media often have a different idea of representation than tumblr and ao3 types do.

Not always, but it's common. There is no reason Gatiss would necessarily want canon Johnlock or see it as a huge step forward for representation. Tumblr Sherlock fandom talked about it in terms that weren't really echoed by people outside of tumblr.

Looking at SPN, by the end, it only had a couple million viewers per episode. Sorting AO3 SPN fics by hits, the top one does have over a million hits, but the next few down have 400-500k. They quickly drop to the 200k hits range, and these are fics with multiple chapters where the same reader will have come back many times. The 2mil episode watchers are separate people watching the first run.

SPN has a particularly vociferous fandom and particularly shitty ratings, so yeah, some of the bigger fic is big enough you'd hope they'd care... But there are two things you're forgetting:

1. SPN had a fuckton of self-shipper fans and fans who just liked canon and did not care about fic. None of these fans wanted Destiel.

2. Network tv series make money off of advertisements, and advertisers still usually strongly prefer young men to older people or women.

It does not matter if SPN's writers wanted to be less sexist as long as advertisers pressure shows to deliver the male viewer numbers they want. But even if they did want to cater to the female audience they ended up with, that audience is not united in wanting Destiel.

(I do not think the writers made any attempt to be less sexist, and I think it’s fine to call them on that, btw. I’m just saying this separate advertiser issue exists also.)

Look through Dean's tags on Wattpad: you'll find a sea of fanfic about Dean/OFC or Dean/Female reader. Those were also die-hard fans, and they did not ship m/m. They also kept SPN afloat with their money.

I too want live action longform genre fiction with a decent budget and canon m/m.

But it's simplistic to think that SPN was just ignoring their fans and clueless.

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hyogonokitsune · 4 years

Text

blush -- suna rintarou x reader

here’s some soft suna smut, go fetch!

edit: here’s pt 2 and pt 3

virginity loss, slight praise kink, oral (f receiving), whoops! rintarou has feelings

4700 words

You were not quite sure how you all ended up on this topic, but it didn’t surprise you one bit that Atsumu was the one to bring it up.

“So how old were ya when ya lost it?” he asked with a grin on his face.

Suna glanced up at the sky as he thought about his answer. “Fourteen, I guess.”

“Ugh, man! You beat me!” Atsumu groaned in annoyance. “I was fifteen.” It was slight, but you caught Suna giving him a self-satisfied smirk. Atsumu turned to his brother next. “What about you, ‘Samu? I don’t think I ever asked.”

“Pfft, like hell I’d ever tell you,” was the only response he gave.

The four of you were walking through Inarizaki’s dark campus together after the team’s evening practice. It was early autumn, and although the days were still warm, the temperature at night was beginning to dip lower and lower. You shivered as a crisp breeze blew past, digging your hands further into your jacket pockets.

“What about you, y/n?” Atsumu asked, peering down at you. “How old were ya?”

You had hoped he’d forgotten about you, but now that he had directly asked you could feel your cheeks reddening slightly. “I, uh, I haven’t done it yet,” you answered sheepishly.

“What, seriously?! You’re a virgin?” Atsumu’s eyes widened in surprise, but they quickly squinched shut when Osamu smacked him on the back of the head.

“Yell it a bit louder, why don’t ya? I don’t think everyone on campus heard you, dumbass.”

“Ouch, sorry,” Atsumu muttered in apology, but your blush had already deepened. “I’m just a little shocked to learn that our precious manager is a virgin.”

“It’s not really that big of a deal, honestly,” Suna said, his voice low. It was a little unusual to hear him defend anyone, but you were grateful for it all the same.

“Ya know, y/n, if ya ever wanna lose your virginity, I’d be happy to help out,” Atsumu said, giving you a salacious smirk. You rolled your eyes at his offer, a small laugh escaping from your lips as you flicked him on the side of his head.

The path split then, and Suna turned left to continue on by himself to the campus dorms. He waved goodnight to the three of you, and you noticed that his eyes lingered on you for half a second too long before he turned away.

Click, click, click

Your thumb pressed repeatedly on the end of your pen as you stared hard at the words in front of you.

“Hey, knock it off.” You looked up at the sound of Suna’s voice, his irritation plain on his face. “It’s annoying.”

The two of you were sitting on the floor of his room, Suna propped up against his bed and you leaning against the opposite wall. Loose sheets of paper and an open textbook were on the floor between you as you both studied for an exam the next day.

“Sorry, I didn’t even realize I was doing it,” you muttered, turning your attention back to Suna’s notebook on your lap. You were reading through it, checking that there wasn’t anything he had written down that you had missed in class. In truth, you were finding it hard to concentrate on the notes, as something else was nagging at your thoughts. You hadn’t been able to shake the conversation you’d had the other night, and despite Atsumu’s suggestion, he wasn’t the one you had been thinking about since then.

You had heard rumors around campus, and stories from some of the girls in your classes. At first it had made you a little uncomfortable to know such personal details about someone you had to see every day, especially since he wasn’t aware that you knew, but over time you gradually got used to it, and you were beginning to wonder about what it might be like to experience that firsthand. You were sure that it wouldn’t get out. After all, those rumors that you had heard had come from the girls themselves, never him; if you didn’t tell anyone, no one would ever have to know about it. Besides, after two and a half years spent on the same team, you two had grown rather close. There were few people that you could trust more than him, and, in your opinion at least, that was the most important factor influencing your decision.

You just had to think of a way to tell him.

Suna’s low voice cut through the silence in the room. “Maaan, I’m beat. What time is it?” he asked, stretching his arms over his head.

You glanced at your watch, sighing a bit when you saw how late it was. “Half past ten.”

“Fuck.” He rubbed at his eyes. “I think we’ve crammed as much as we possibly can for tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you replied as you stood up. The two of you started tidying up his room, and you gathered your books and pens into your bag.

“You want me to walk you to the bus stop?”

“No, I’ll be alright.”

“’Kay.”

You had your hand on the doorknob, ready to leave, but you found yourself unable to turn it.

“Suna?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, and when he turned to look at you, you felt an unexpected surge of confidence well up inside. If you didn’t tell him now, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to.

Dropping your hand from the doorknob, you angled your shoulders to face him head on, willing yourself to look him in the eye. “I want you to take my virginity.”

There was a slight widening of his eyes, almost imperceptible, but you caught it before his face fell back into its usual indifferent mask. There was a moment or two of silence, and you tried to keep yourself from panicking; maybe he was just trying to gauge how serious you were.

Eventually he spoke, the corner of his lip quirking up into a cheeky grin. “You sure you don’t want Atsumu to be the one?”

You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling. “I think I’d rather die, if I’m being honest.”

Suna laughed then, short but genuine, and you felt the tension ease from your shoulders. “I’ll do it, if that’s really what you want.”

You gave him a quick nod, hand reaching towards the door again.

“Come back here tomorrow.”

You knocked twice on Suna’s door and it opened almost immediately. He must have just recently gotten out of the shower because his hair was still damp, a droplet of water clinging to a lock of hair next to his cheek as he stared down at you.

“I was half-expecting you not to show up,” he said, a slight smile on his lips.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked as you squeezed past him to step into the room; he offered no response.

You dropped your bag and blazer onto his desk chair, and when you turned around Suna had moved into the center of the room, within arm’s reach.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” There was an uncharacteristic note of concern in his voice that made your heart melt.

You gave a slight nod, a small smile on your face. “I’m sure.”

Those two words were all he needed.

Suna closed the gap between you in one step. His left hand came to rest on your waist, his right moving up to cup your cheek as he leaned down to place his lips on yours. His kiss was unexpectedly soft, and you couldn’t stop a tiny gasp from escaping you in surprise. This wasn’t a Suna that you were familiar with; this was a Suna that was unbelievably tender with his touch, but you could feel a more passionate side simmering just beneath the surface by the way that his fingers ever so slowly applied pressure to your waist.

Unconsciously, your hands moved first to his shoulders, then to the back of his head, where your fingers buried themselves in his damp hair. Your touch encouraged him to draw you in closer, his arm snaking around your waist to press you against his body. His kisses were becoming firmer now, deeper, more urgent, his tongue slipping past your lips to brush against yours.

A feeling of warmth was in your chest now, spreading down throughout your body, and with it came a sudden feeling of uncertainty. Suna broke away from you and stepped back to sit on the edge of his bed, and the sight of him there suddenly stole away all the confidence you had felt earlier.

“Come here,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The sound of it made your legs feel weak, but you forced yourself to step towards him. His hands moved to your hips, intending to pull you closer, but you put your palms on his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Wait a minute,” you said, a little breathless.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” Your voice trailed off and you swallowed hard. “I’m just a little nervous.”

You were embarrassed to admit it, but to your surprise Suna smiled, and the gentleness on his face was reassuring. “Yeah, I think it’s normal to be a little nervous.” One of his hands left your hip to move to your elbow. His fingers dragged lightly down your forearm and wrapped around your wrist, so that he could lift your hand and press it against his chest. “I’m a little nervous, too.” You could feel his heart against your palm, beating a little faster and harder than normal. The proof of his own anxiety made all of your apprehensions disappear, and you leaned down to kiss him. Before he could deepen it, you broke away again.

“Suna?”

“Hmm?”

“Could we turn the light off?”

“Of course,” he grinned, leaning over to switch off the lamp on his bedside table.

The room became dark, but the sun had only recently dipped below the horizon and your eyes quickly adjusted to the cold blue light coming in through the window. Suna’s body was outlined against the bed, his features hazy in the dim lighting, but his eyes were clear as he gazed up at you, imploring you to come closer.

He guided you down onto his lap, one of his hands on each of your thighs to place them at his sides. His kisses were needier now, almost hungry in the way that his mouth moved against yours. His hands slid up to rest on your hips once more, and when he slowly tugged them closer, dragging you over his hardening cock, you couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up from your chest. You could feel him grinning against your lips, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed, not when the feeling of his body under your hands was causing that heat to grow in your core.

“Does that feel good, baby?” Suna asked, his voice breathy and low. A blush crept up your face at his words, the tone of them so much more intimate than anything you’d heard before. You grinded against him again, causing him to moan lightly into your mouth.

Your hands slid down to press against his chest, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He paused kissing you just long enough to take his shirt off, tossing it onto the floor before grabbing your waist and drawing you in even closer. Tentatively, you brought your hands back to his chest. The heat of his skin, the pounding of his heart, his heavy breaths emboldened you, prompting you to explore more of his body. Your fingers traveled lightly over his chest, across his collarbones, onto his shoulders, across the back of his neck, down to his shoulder blades; every place you touched gave way to growing desire.

Suna’s hands wandered up your stomach and over your breasts to undo the buttons of your blouse, but he couldn’t undo them fast enough for you; you suddenly couldn’t stand another moment with the fabric between you, you needed to feel your skin pressed up against his now. Your fingers moved to the bottom of your blouse and quickly worked their way upwards, meeting his in the middle before tearing the shirt from your body.

His eyes roamed over you and he whispered something that you couldn’t quite hear. Before you could say anything, his head moved to your neck, pressing hot kisses into your skin, down the column of your throat and over your collarbones. The top of his head tickled under your chin, making you giggle; his lips left your shoulder with a wet sound as he turned his face up to look at you, but you dug your nails into his arms and whimpered at the loss of his touch.

“Please don’t stop,” you breathed.

Suna gripped you tightly around your waist to lift you off of him and shift you so you were lying down on the bed, his body leaning over you. Pulling one of your legs up so that he could position himself between them, he resumed kissing your neck, his warm breath tickling your ear. His hands worked their way down your sides, a trail of goosebumps left in their wake, to come to rest at the waistband of your skirt. He lifted his head to kiss you on the lips briefly before carefully tugging your skirt down over your hips and off your legs. His eyes lingered on your purple lace panties, moved up to your matching bra, and finally to meet your own gaze.

“These are cute,” he said with a smirk, one finger lifting up the band of your panties and letting it snap against your skin.

“Shut up,” you groaned, covering your blushing face with your arm.

“Did you match these just for me?” he teased.

“I said shut up, Rintarou!”

You heard a sharp intake of breath, and lowered your arm to see that the look on his face had shifted into completely unconstrained desire. He kissed you then, tongue forcing its way into your mouth, greedily swallowing your moans. You could feel yourself getting wetter as he pressed his cock in-between your legs; the sensation was becoming almost too much to bear.

Suna pulled away suddenly, and a thin strand of saliva briefly connected your mouths, glinting in the low light. “Hey, do you want me to wear a condom?” he asked, rubbing his thumb slowly over your bottom lip.

“Oh!” You were lying in his bed half naked, and his tongue had just been in your mouth, but for some reason that question made you feel shy all of a sudden. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I’m, uh… I’m on the pill,” you told him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. He only nodded once before leaning in to kiss you again.

One of his hands slowly slid up your side to your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple through the fabric of your bra. When he broke the kiss to move his lips to your neck, you leaned forward slightly to unhook your bra, tossing it on the floor with the rest of your clothes. Suna sucked in a breath at the sight of you, gazing at you almost reverently before placing his lips back on your throat, letting his hand blindly fondle your breast. Moving slowly, he made his way down your throat and over your collarbones, planting sloppy kisses every few inches, until his tongue was swirling small circles around your nipple, feeling it grow harder at his touch. At the same time, his other hand was pressing into your hip, fingers digging insistently into the soft flesh. That hand now started moving down over the outside of your thigh, pausing almost at the knee before running back up along the inside.

You gasped when he touched your clothed pussy for the first time, his fingers brushing against your clit through the fabric. You would have felt embarrassed at the wetness you felt seeping through your panties, but the feeling of having him touch you in so many places was too good for you to care. He was rubbing circles around your clit, causing a knot to form deep in your stomach. You reached with both hands into his hair, gripping the back of his head tightly as a pitiful whimper escaped you.

“Oh, Rintarou…”

“What is it, baby?” He leaned forward to plant a kiss on your cheek, his hand still working slowly between your legs. “What do you need?”

Another pitiful sound left your mouth and your nails dug into his shoulders. He sat up straight, his free hand coming to rest on your leg as his other continued to draw soft moans out of you.

A new feeling had settled in your chest, a need that you had never experienced before. It wasn’t enough to have him simply touch you; you needed to feel him inside of you.

“Rin, please,” you practically begged him, reaching towards the waistband of his sweatpants.

He gently pushed your hands away, a low chuckle rising in his throat. “You’re not ready yet, baby,” he told you in a soft voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Groaning, you fell back into the pillow, your breath coming out harder as he started kissing the inside of your thigh, slowly, painfully slowly, moving closer to where the heat was pooling between your legs. Both of his hands now hooked under your thighs to rest on top of your hip bones, pinning you in place. He kept his eyes on your face as his tongue ran almost lazily over your panties.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, head tilting back and eyes squeezing shut.

“You’re already so wet,” he murmured, and you could hear the smile in his voice. He was still licking you agonizingly slowly, relishing the way you squirmed around him. “Do you want me to taste you, baby?”

“Mm hmm,” you answered, a little too quickly in your eagerness to have him touch more of you. He moved one of his hands to hook a finger under your panties, pulling them to the side to reveal your glistening pussy.

His mouth was on your bare clit now, and the sensation was overwhelming. It was different from all the times you had pleasured yourself; this was warm and wet and achingly soft, and it was causing the coil in your stomach to rapidly tighten. He hummed lightly, the vibrations running over your clit and causing you to practically scream. When he lifted his face away from you, you nearly cried. He slid your panties down your legs and tossed them on the floor, leaving you completely bare before him.

Suna leaned back down, tongue running up and down your folds, swirling around your clit, kissing all over your pussy. Every single contact made your back arch, made your hands grip the sheets a little more tightly. He traced a finger along the edge of your pussy, gathering up the wetness before slowly pressing it into you. You clenched around him as his finger curled up to press into the soft spot within you, the spot that made your breath catch in your throat. You opened your eyes to look down at him; his mouth and finger were still at work on your pussy, but his gaze was trained on your face, sage-colored eyes glinting in the dark.

The coil in your stomach finally snapped, your orgasm falling over you in waves of intense pleasure. Your toes curled, legs tensed up around his head, hands reached down to wind into his soft hair.

“Rin-Rintarou!”

Suna kept his face pressed into your pussy, sucking gently on your clit as you came around his finger. The overstimulation was becoming too much, and your breath was coming out in labored sobs.

“Rin, p-please, stop!”

Immediately, he pulled away, crawling over your body to kiss you hard on the mouth. “I like the way you taste, cutie,” he sighed into your ear, nuzzling at your neck. “And I love the way you moan for me.”

You were panting, still coming down from your high. Suna’s hand came up to caress your face, thumb rubbing gently over your cheekbones. He waited for your breathing to even out before sitting up to remove his pants. You couldn’t help but stare at the way his cock looked; you had no reference point, but you were pretty sure he was above average.

He lazily stroked his cock with one hand as he shifted your legs with the other, positioning himself close to your entrance. He dragged the head over your pussy, coating it with the wetness there.

Suna was looking straight at you again. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice breathless.

“Yes,” you told him. He leaned down to plant one more kiss on your lips, before slowly pressing his cock into you.

All the time he spent pleasuring you already ensured that you were relaxed enough to take him, but even so, he went slow. He sank in a few inches before pausing, allowing you to adjust to his size as he peppered your face with kisses, before giving you some more. It took a full minute before he completely joined his hips to yours, a soft groan escaping his lips.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked, his voice impossibly soft.

“Yeah.” You gave him a small smile, hands running up the backs of his arms to rest on his shoulder blades. It felt so incredibly good to finally have him inside you, to fill you up completely. There had been a slight pressure when he first entered you, but that was subsiding now, and you could fully enjoy the way his cock stretched you out.

Suna pulled his hips away from you, his cock dragging slowly along your sensitive walls. The loss of him drew a soft whimper out of you, turning into a moan when he pushed back in. His pace was unhurried at first, but with each breathy sigh you made he increased his speed, pulling out a little further each time.

“Rin, oh, oh…”

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he moaned, lips capturing yours in a wet kiss. “You feel so good, baby.”

He bent down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth with just enough pressure to make your spine arch, fingers gripping his shoulders tightly to let him know that you wanted more.

“Rin, I-I… oh god-”

He straightened back up so he could look into your face, his thumb and forefinger continuing to play with your nipple. “Does that feel good?” he asked in a low voice. You nodded, eyes squeezed tight against the pleasure, and another soft whimper left your throat. “You’re taking my cock so well, baby,” he murmured; you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten at his praise. “Do you want more?”

“Yes, please, please…”

He quickened his pace even more, hips snapping into yours hard enough now to apply deliciously pleasant friction to your clit. You couldn’t have stopped the sounds leaving your mouth even if you wanted to; every thrust of his cock made you come undone a little more. The pleasure radiated throughout your entire body, making you feel slightly lightheaded.

Suna placed both hands on the backs of your knees and lifted them, pressing your legs towards your chest. The new angle of your hips allowed his cock to press into that spot inside you that made your breath burn in your lungs. The feeling was unbelievable; you had never felt pleasure like this before.

Your eyes snapped open. Suna was staring down, watching his cock sink repeatedly into your dripping wet pussy. When your hand gave his shoulder a small squeeze he looked up, eyes locking with yours. His face was etched with determination, all of his efforts going towards making you feel good. His cheeks were flushed pink, and his eyes contained something that you couldn’t quite place.

“Are you gonna cum for me, princess?” His voice was husky, gaze burning with desire.

“Yes, Rin, please don’t stop,” you breathed out between gasps.

He kept his pace consistent, hitting that sweet spot over and over and over again. Your nails were digging into his back, leaving tiny crescent-shaped indentations in his skin. The knot in your stomach was tightening, tightening, tightening—

“Rintarou!” you cried out as the second orgasm overtook you, breath catching in your chest. Your legs trembled under Suna’s hands as he kept fucking you through it, groaning as your pussy clenched around him.

He could feel himself getting closer. He slowed his pace, leaning over to press hard kisses into your neck as you came down from your high. When your breathing started to even out, his lips moved up over your jaw and to your mouth. You kissed him greedily, hands moving to entwine themselves in his hair.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he asked, voice slightly hoarse. He was still moving against you, cock pumping slowly in and out of your pussy.

“Ah… oh,” was all you could manage to squeak out.

“Hmm?” He nuzzled his nose against your neck, warm breath tickling your skin. “Where, baby?”

“Inside… I want you to cum inside me,” you whispered.

With a groan, Suna started thrusting into you harder again. The wetness between your legs was audible with each stroke of his cock, and the sound of it only made him come closer to the edge. The sensation against your clit was pushing you into overstimulation, tears springing up in the corners of your eyes from the sheer pleasure. You reached down with one hand to grasp at his thigh, nails digging into the muscles working to join him to you, desperately trying to pull him closer, closer.

“God, I’m so close…” he murmured, face held so near to yours that your noses bumped each time he pounded into you.

“Oh, you feel so good,” you moaned.

“Can you say my name, baby?” His voice was hardly above a whisper.

“Rin,” you sighed, and his hips snapped into you almost urgently. “Please cum, Rin, I want you to cum for me…”

He buried his face in your neck, groaning deeply as he came. “Fuck.” You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, hot cum spurting deep into your pussy.

He was still for a moment, breathing hard against your skin, before slowly pulling out and rolling over to lie beside you. You felt some of his cum drip out of you, blushing at the sensation. The two of you were silent for a while, your panting breaths the only sounds in the room.

“How was that?” Suna asked eventually, turning onto his side to face you. You suddenly found yourself unable to look at him, pressing your face instead into the crook of his neck and humming contentedly. He chuckled softly and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “I wasn’t too rough with you, was I?” he asked, an uncharacteristic note of concern in his voice.

“Not at all,” you told him. “I liked it.”

You fell silent again. With your body pressed up against his, you could feel the beat of his heart, slowly steadying from its rapid pace. His skin was so warm, and you didn’t even mind the slight sheen of sweat covering both your bodies. You took a breath, inhaling his scent; you couldn’t describe what he smelled like, you just knew that he smelled good.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you must have been lying there for at least a quarter hour. You lifted your head to look at him and saw that his eyes were closed. Did he fall asleep?

“Rin?” you asked tentatively.

“Hmm?” His response was a low rumble in his chest; you could feel the vibrations against your palm. His eyes were still closed.

“Why were you nervous before?” You wriggled in his arms a bit, trying to get a better view of his face. “I mean, it wasn’t your first time.”

He opened his eyes, only to glance at you briefly before turning his head to look up at the ceiling. “It was my first time with you,” he mumbled, so soft you almost didn’t catch it.

With your hand still on his chest you could feel when his heart started beating faster. Peering at his face in the dark, you could have sworn you saw Suna Rintarou blush.

➣ masterlist

#sorry this is almost 5000 words sfbsgbgsk i got carried away #suna just makes me feel 🥺🤧🥵🥵#suna rintarou #suna rintarou smut #suna smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna #niakasi writing

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adorerdraco · 4 years

Text

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 1

Summary: Draco meets and accidentally falls in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP). Part 1 of a upcoming series.

Warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of blood, crying, panic attacks

Words: 6.4K words (I made this so longgg)

A/N: my first Draco writing !!! i am sorry ahead of time if there are any misspellings, typing with long acrylics is hard omg. ALSO PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND ME REQUESTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also i do not own this gif.

It was almost satirical how Draco managed to fall in love with someone at what might be, is, the lowest point in his life. It was his sixth year at Hogwarts, the dark mark burned into his left forearm, the restless mending of the vanishing cabinet, the impossible task of killing his Headmaster, the Dark Lord looming over him and his family with promises of torture and death if he didn’t follow through with the orders he was given.

Draco was an empty shell of what he used to be. The playful and mean remarks that would leave his mouth to anyone that stood in his path were gone. The devious twinkle in his eye and the smug smirk that used to grace his face almost 24/7 was reduced to a permanent scowl and red-rimmed eyes. He looked as if he had aged a rough 10 years since the last year he was at school. Everyone noticed it.

Everyone noticed the skipped meals, the lack of sleep, the empty look in his eyes, the falling behind in class. But no one dared say a thing to him. It almost seems as though people were afraid of him now more than ever. The sneer on his face and the reckless and impulsive attitude he held now was like a repellent for anyone that tried to come near. He was completely alone, whether he liked it or not and he decided to keep it that way.

That all changed a few months into the year, however, when you were rushing to DADA, your long house colored scarf getting tangled underneath your feet causing you to trip and lurch forward, dropping all your books, your wand, and crashing into, you guessed it, Draco Malfoy himself. There was a loud cracking sound as you both tumbled onto the ground, a yelp slipping past Draco’s lips as he held his hand in pain.

"Oh, Merlin,” you gasped, Draco shooting you the dirtiest glare. “Draco, I’m so sorry.”

Before he could open his mouth to tell you off and incessantly insult you into oblivion, you reached forward and took his wounded hand in yours, the softness of your hands and tender touch throwing him off guard. He watched you as you examined the damage on one of his fingers.

“It’s just a sprain,” you finalized after inspecting it for a couple seconds. Draco recoiled his hand from yours as if he had touched a hot surface. He moved to get up and you huffed out a “wait, hold on,” as you scrambled around the ground for your wand. When you felt the wood underneath your fingertips, you clutched it and jumped to your feet, gently grabbing onto the sleeve of Draco’s robe who was already trying to retreat.

“Get away,” he snarled, snatching his arm out of your grasp.

“Let me help,” you pleaded softly, “it’ll be quick, I promise.”

Draco looked down at you with annoyance. He was about to leave again until he felt that same tender touch from just a few moments ago. The feeling stunning him again as he looked down at his hand that was now lying palm up in yours.

“Episkey,” you drawled the wand over his injured finger, the both of you watching the swollen and purple bruise beginning to form suddenly fade away.

Draco gave you one last scowl before he snatched his hand out of yours and turned around to leave the corridor, leaving you standing there dumbfounded as he quickly walked away, his cloak floating behind him like the professor, who’s class you now realized you were very late for.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

That night, Draco lied awake staring at his ceiling he had charmed to resemble a starry night sky. His mind wandered off to think about spells he could try to help fix the vanishing cabinet and different ways he could kill Dumbledore without actually having to face him. He thought of his parents, mostly his mom, and how much he wishes he could save her and himself from this life. He thought of this school and how much he missed being an unknowing child who just did his schoolwork, played quidditch and bully the Golden Trio. He missed the two-dimensional life he used to live. Even if he used to be a complete ignorant and snobby arse, he was a happy one at that. Only now he knows that life isn’t what mummy or daddy say it is, in fact, it is so much worse.

He found his mind wandering to his uneventful day of dragging himself through his classes and failed attempts on the cabinet in the room of requirement. He then all of a sudden remembered the klutzy y/h/c girl that tripped into him and sprained his finger. He remembered how soft her touch was and how gentle she was in fixing said finger. That feeling was hard to forget. He hasn’t felt such tenderness since he doesn’t know how long. He recalled his mother’s hug before he boarded the train to Hogwarts, but that was ages ago.

In his ever growing turmoil, there wasn’t an ounce of warmth in Draco’s life since he’s returned to school. The coldness he was feeling on the inside was just as apparent as it was in his surroundings. He catches himself wishing he could feel that touch again, something about you radiated warmth, and just as quick as that thought appeared, he pushed it away.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The next day, as Draco was leaving the room of requirement and into the empty corridor, he felt the familiar ache in his chest that began to flow through his body. He had made little to no progress today on the cabinet. He felt a panic attack on the horizon, his breathing becoming staggered and tears pricking his eyes. He hated it. He hated feeling so weak.

He began rushing towards Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, his tears blurring his vision and just like the day before, he crashed right into someone. Instinctively, he held the other person in place by their biceps so neither of them would fall. But that still didn’t stop how upon impact, the other person’s head had collided with his bottom lip. He squeezed his eyes in pain as he felt the skin break and blood quickly escaping it. When he pulled back, he focused on the figure in front of him and realized it was you. The same klutzy girl he bumped into yesterday.

“Oh no, not again,” you frown, placing your hand on the part of your head that met Draco’s lip.

“You ought to watch where you’re going, you twit,” he snarls, stepping away from you in anger.

“It was an accident,” you responded just as harshly. You take a deep breath and throw the attitude aside. He was bleeding for Merlin’s sake and you felt bad that it was because of you. “I’m sorry, please let me heal you again,” you offer, taking a step towards him, closing up the space he had made.

“I think you’ve done enough,” he backs up, eyeing you down.

“Draco, please, just let me heal your lip and i’ll be out of your way,” you ask again, your soft and guilt ridden e/c eyes peering up at him through your lashes. Draco’s heart flutters, his anger subsiding for a second and he nods.

You step towards him once more and unexpectedly place a warm hand on his face while the other brings your wand up to his lip where it hovers. It was a non-verbal spell you used this time and he felt the pulsating pain in his lip subside to nothing.

Even though he was healed, you both stayed in that position, your hand still on his cheek and his eyes gazing into yours. He didn’t realize it at that moment, but the pain in chest had also subsided, just a little. The tears had gone. His breathing was drastically slower.

“What’s your name?” the question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it. You gave him a small smile, your hand falling from his face and he frowns when he feels the cold on his skin from the loss of contact.

“It’s Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N” you answer. “We have potions together this year, actually.”

Draco thought back to that class, now that Slughorn was teaching it he hardly paid attention, especially since he felt he was skilled in it anyways so he would let himself slip into his thoughts and let the whole period pass by in a haze. He feels as though he might have heard your name here and there, but he wasn’t so sure.

“Hm, funny, I’ve never noticed you,” he says, not intending it to sound rude but it did. He watches your face fall and he feels a slight guilt poke at him.

“Well, like I said, I’ll be out of your way now,” you mumble to him, brushing past him softly as you continued your path out of the corridor and out of his sight.

He didn’t know why, but he felt a little sad to see you go. He shook his head, shaking the thought from his mind and instead of the bathroom, he decided to go to his room, no longer feeling like he did before your little encounter.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

As days went on, Draco ended up paying more attention in Slughorn’s class. Not to the chubby old professor, but to you, who he shared subtle glances with throughout classes and half-hearted smiles.

You wanted nothing more than to continue talking to him. To be in his presence. He was like a magnet to you, while everyone else thought the opposite of him. Even Pansy, who usually was up his ass, distanced herself from the ghost of the boy she once obsessed over. You couldn’t lie, the small crush you harbored on Draco had only grown more and more each day. It started about three years ago, during your third year when you had seen him in the hospital wing after his run-in with Buckbeak.

You remember the sheer shock you felt when you had seen him for the first time that year. The slicked back hair was gone, he had grown several inches taller, maybe even a foot taller now that you thought about it. His voice had deepened into that haughty tone you somehow couldn’t get enough of. But just like you, many other girls noticed these changes too and began pursuing him. Something you’d never had the guts to do.

Until now.

The feelings you had been suppressing for the past 3 years had come back in overflow the second you bumped into him the other day. Even worse this time since you’ve actually had a conversation with him now and the fact that he won’t stop looking at you.

Slughorn pulled you out of your thoughts when he announced to everyone to partner up to brew the potion he had been lecturing us on all week. Draught of Peace.

“This is your chance,” your friend besides you sings to you as you looked longingly in Draco’s direction who hasn’t moved from his spot.

“No, he usually works by himself, I don’t want to bother him anymore than I have,” you sigh, slumping down in your seat.

“Y/N, you’ve been in love with him since third year,” she huffs, “besides, maybe he only works alone because no one can stand being near him.”

“Shhh, someone might hear you,” you hiss, slumping even lower into your seat. “I am not in love with him, it’s just a stupid crush,” you whisper angrily to her while she only rolls her eyes.

“Okay, well, have fun working alone,” she smirks, getting up from her seat and scurrying across the room to join another classmate. You gape at her in distress, she returns the same gesture, mocking you. She then points over to Draco and smiles, giving you an encouraging thumbs up.

You rest your head in your hand for a second, feeling the hot blush that had made its way onto your face and focused your gaze onto the table in front of you. You mentally hexed your friend, who thought it’d be a good idea if she were ditch you so you would be forced to look for another partner. Jokes on her, you’re not getting up from this seat.

‘I can’t go up to him,” you thought, ‘he probably thinks I’m some annoying creep who won’t leave him alone. I’ll just work by myself.”

Draco looks over at you, noticing the empty space beside you and the frown on your face as you pushed your Potions book to the side and sat up to get your cauldron ready. You were alone, and so was he. He fought himself on whether or not he should join you. It was a bold move, especially for him. He was used to working alone, but the longer he looked at you, the more he found himself missing the sound of your honey sweet voice and soft eyes. Before he had any more time to argue with himself about it, he gathered up all his things and walked over to the empty spot next to you.

“Do you want help?” Draco asked awkwardly, immediately regretting his decision to move. Your eyes shot up from the potion book, not expecting to see the blond next to you with a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Um, yes, actually, that’d be nice,” you mutter out to him, moving some stuff around on the table so that he would have space for his. You could hardly contain the deep red blush that was already on your face from intensifying at his presence. You swallowed thickly as the realization set in that your longtime crush was right beside you and even offering a helping hand. Which in Draco’s case was extremely rare, almost unheard of. Matter of fact, this is something the Slytherin Prince has never done.

He sets his bag down and his supplies and takes a seat, rolling up his sleeves so that he could get started on crushing the porcupine quills into the moonstone powder. The amount of times he has made this potion by now for himself was sad, but good in this case since he would be able to impress you with his skill.

He worked diligently and quietly and you watched as his long slender fingers worked everything with attention and precision. You were looking up at him every now and then which you now realized was a terrible idea considering you were in the middle of cutting ginger root and you weren’t exactly coordinated to begin with. You felt the sharp blade slide across your finger and a small gasp left your mouth when the pain instantly began once the first drop of blood fell.

Draco looked at you in confusion, his eyes widening slightly when he saw the blood dripping from your hand and your face contorted in pain. You ignored the looks Draco was giving you, afraid that he might be looking at you with contempt for being sloppy.

“Y/L/N, perhaps you should go to Madam Pomfrey,” Draco suggests, now seeing that the cut was very deep as you inspected it. In fact, it was so deep he swore he could’ve seen bone.

“No, it’s fine, I can heal it,” you ignored the sharp pain and placed your hand on the table and pointed your wand at the cut with your uninjured hand. You focused on the cut and closed your eyes, letting your wand do its magic with your unspoken spell. When you opened your eyes, the cut was gone, just a small scar in its place and drying blood around it. “You see,” you smile, turning towards Draco and waving your finger, “brand new.”

“You don’t want dittany for the scarring?” Draco asked with an eyebrow raised.

“No, I don’t mind them and this one is small anyways. They’re like memories to me. Some come from good experiences, some bad. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a little clumsy,” you explain, a small smile on your lips.

“Trust me, I’ve noticed,” he sighs, “so you’ve managed to become your own healer because of that?”

“Exactly that,” you hummed. “That’s actually what I’m studying to be. I plan on being at St. Mungo’s once we graduate. I’ve been studying for it my whole life.”

Draco was silent for a moment. He watched as you carefully threw ingredients into the cauldron and stirred them with caution. He noticed that despite your clumsiness, you handled everything you touched with a care and gentleness. It was a calming sight to him for some reason and he faintly smiled.

“I think you’d be a great healer,” he complimented quietly. You looked at him with one of the brightest smiles he’s ever seen and his heart swells at the thought of it being because of him. He feels a smile mirroring yours that tries to break through, but he fights it.

“You know, you’re a lot nicer than you let on,” you say quietly, waiting for his reaction from the corner of his eye. Draco wants to give you a snarky remark, just to uphold his cold reputation he’s given himself since his first day back at Hogwarts, but he doesn’t.

Instead of saying anything, he just shrugged and gave you a small smile, turning his attention back to the task at hand. You do the same, choosing to enjoy the comfortable silence that had settled.

When Slughorn came by to check when you finished, he eyed you and Draco and smiled.

"Ahh, Mr. Malfoy, I’m glad you’ve finally decided to partner up with someone,” he gleamed. “Miss Y/L/N here is an excellent potions student such as yourself.”

“Yes, she is,” Draco responded, keeping his eyes trained on the professor. He didn’t want to look at you, feeling embarrassed that he has now complimented you twice in the last 20 minutes. You smiled to yourself, something you’ve been doing a lot of since the slytherin boy sat next to you.

“Well, I suppose you’ll be pleased to know the two of you have brewed an outstanding potion,” Slughorn grins, “both of you will receive perfect marks on this. You can be excused from today’s class now.”

“Thank you, Professor,” you begin gathering your things and turn towards Draco. “I’ll see you next class? Or maybe somewhere around the castle when I accidentally bump into you.”

Draco chuckles and shakes his head, “perhaps. I’ll see you soon, Y/L/N.”

With that, he strides out of the class, you staring at the back of his platinum blond head with a stupid smile on your face.

“You’re welcome,” your friend suddenly appeared next to you, playfully slapping your arm. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen Draco look so... calm.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Weeks had gone by, and several Potions classes. The seat beside you now belonged to Draco and the two of you had in a sense, become friends. Or acquaintances. You couldn’t quite say.

He was still brooding and mostly kept to himself, but he would converse with you here and there about things, almost always school. The two of you continuously getting outstanding marks on everything you produced much to Slughorn’s delight.

Sometimes he would come to class looking disheveled or angry and those were the days where no matter how much you tried to talk to him to at least maybe get his mind off things, he would ignore you. Wouldn’t even look at you. You couldn’t deny how it had hurt your feelings, but you would brush off the hurt and remind yourself that it wasn’t personal. He was obviously going through something, you didn’t know what, but you had to respect that sometimes he just didn’t want to talk. That was hard. Especially because you just wanted to hear his voice or see him give you that rare smile when you would say something he found amusing or you would accidentally drop something off the table with your elbows or knocked over with your hands.

You were rounding a corridor when you saw the flash of blond zoom past you. He didn’t see you, but you saw the pointed look in his eyes and the tears that were pooling in the stormy gray eyes that you adored. You mentally fought yourself on whether or not you should follow him, he looked so upset and all you wanted to do was give him a peace of mind. So you followed him, all through two corridors until he disappeared into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

Your heart broke at the sobs that filled the bathroom. They were full of pain and despair. The sound of his rapid breathing mixed in with his cries was more than enough to let you know that he was having a panic attack. You pushed open the door slightly to see him hunched over a sink, his robe discarded on the ground along with his vest and tie leaving him in only a white long sleeved dress shirt.

You wanted to run in and help, but stayed back, realizing that this was something that was extremely personal. You knew he would be livid if you or anyone saw him like this, so broken and emotional. You were about to leave, all of a sudden feeling very ashamed for even following him in here. You watched as he looked up into the mirror, an anger flashing in his eyes as he stared at the reflection looking back at him. Not yours, but his. All he could see was a monster staring back at him. A failure. A weak man. He was disgusted and angry with what he saw and before he knew what he was doing, he had pulled his fist back and you watched it collide with the middle of the mirror where he had been. The glass shattered upon impact, the shards now flying in all different directions and embedding into his knuckles. He fell to the ground on his knees, in pain and clutching his fist as his cries only got louder.

That was when you threw open the door, rushing in to help him, not caring that you were going to have to put up a fight in order to even get near him. Draco’s eyes shot up to meet yours, and just like you thought, he was beyond pissed to see you.

Draco has never felt such humiliation in his life. The beautiful and kind y/h girl he had acquainted himself with, was now looking at him with pity. He grabbed his wand from his pocket, pointing it at you with such quickness that you faltered in your steps.

“Get. Out!” He yelled, his wand shaking violently in his uninjured hand. He would never hex you, but he figured you would fall for his bluff and leave. But you didn’t. You only sat yourself down a few feet away from him and felt your own tears begin to fall. “Y/L/N, I swear to Merlin, if you don’t leave, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” you challenged. “I just want to help.”

“I don’t need your help,” he sneered, his wand still pointed at you.

“You’re bleeding, a lot, Draco,” you point to his bloodied hand that curled to his chest. “You know I can save you a trip to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey’s interrogation.”

After a few moments of silence and a wand still pointed at you, you slowly scoot towards him. Your hand encloses around the one holding his wand and you lower it for him while he watches you. He was still crying and breathing heavily. His panic attack somehow getting worse now and no longer having the energy to fight you. You finally reach him, now knee to knee with him and you place a hand on his shoulder.

“Draco, just breath with me,” you say calmly. “In,” you took a long exaggerated inhale, and after a few seconds, “out,” and let out an equally exaggerated exhale. You did that with him for a while, his pained gray eyes focused on yours the whole time, never breaking eye contact. Once he was calmed down enough and was just left with the post crying hiccoughs, you took his injured hand in yours. There was shards and particles of glass stuck in his reddened and bloody skin.

You reached into your robe pocket and pulled out a set of tweezers you kept with you. You often found yourself getting splinters or tiny rocks stuck in your skin when your hands hit the pavement when you’d fall you try and catch yourself.

“This might hurt,” you warn, starting to remove one of the biggest pieces. He sharply inhales as you try your best to do take it out carefully.

It was quiet the rest of the process, just sniffles and gasps from Draco when you had removed a piece that especially hurt. When you were done, you waved your wand over the gashes and watched as they faded into faint pink scars. You got up, pulling him with you and took him to the sink where you rinsed off the blood from both your hands and his.

He couldn’t say anything. He didn’t know what. He just stared at you, dumbfounded and confused. You turned your body to face his and he did the same, eyeing you carefully and still very cautious to any move you made.

“I can leave now, if you’d like me to,” you offer quietly. He stayed silent, wondering if he should just send you off. But he didn’t want to. You had already seen him at his worst, and he was terribly alone, so he just shook his head ‘no.’ You looked up at him and decided to risk it all. “Can I give you a hug?”

Draco was stunned at the question, his heart pounding against his chest. “I suppose,” he managed to let out in a strained voice.

You slowly stepped closer to him and slid your arms up his biceps until your hands met behind his neck. You stood on your tippy toes and pulled him into you, his chin now resting on your shoulder as your hand smoothed the back of his head. You felt him stiff under your touch and as he got comfortable in your embrace, his arms raised from his sides and snaked around your waist, pushing you flush against him. You stayed like that for what felt like forever, and he held you tightly, not wanting to let go.

This was the first time in a long time that he had felt any type of relief. It had been such a constant uphill battle for him, day after day. He took a deep inhale accidentally, but the smell of your perfume and shampoo filling his nose and his mind made him feel at ease. The warmth of your body from underneath his fingertips brought him peace and succor.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair so quietly that if you weren’t so focused on him, you would’ve missed it.

“Anytime.”

That was the day Draco Malfoy became your friend.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Potions class was no longer the only place you would see Draco. Now that the two of you were comfortable with one another and he trusted you more than anyone else, he found himself hanging out with you every day during his free time when he would be done messing with the cabinet.

It would be taking walks around the castle. Sneaking out at night and meeting behind statues to talk. Sitting together at a bench in the courtyard. Skipping stones along the Black Lake. It’s been months of this. Months of friendship he so desperately needed. You had helped him through several more panic attacks and meltdowns, each time coming closer together. He never told you about what caused them. The worst ones were when he found he had almost killed Katie Bell and Ron Weasley, and as much as you begged him to tell you, he kept his mouth shut.

He had spent so much time with you that it was affecting him. But for the better. He found himself eating again at the Slytherin table and his friends were more than excited to have him back. He still wasn’t too buddy-buddy with everyone as he once was, but he joined conversations and shared a couple jokes. He was even sleeping a little more. He was still beyond stressed, but it wasn’t as gut-wrenching. He enjoyed Potions again and even started paying a little more attention in his other classes. His new found energy even helped him greatly progress in mending the vanishing cabinet, finally making a breakthrough in fixing it.

He would lie awake at night sometimes and thank Merlin you crashed into his life, literally. You were like an angel to him, healing his heart with every word and smile and touch you sent his way. It was easy with you. He tried his best to keep his emotions at bay, reminding himself that when he would have to follow through with his task, he would lose you and that thought pained him to no end. But he was selfish, and he adored you with every fiber of his being so he couldn’t leave you alone. And especially not when he needed you most.

Today, you lied in the grass, shoulder to shoulder and staring up at the sky and watching the clouds. You were a little ways from the castle, away from all your other classmates and teachers and it was nice. Finally being able to enjoy time with the Slytherin Prince without people gawking at the two of you.

“My mother used to do this with me when I was a small,” Draco trailed off, his eyes following a particular funny shaped cloud. “She would take me out to the garden behind the Manor, usually when father was doing some work at the ministry. But we would sit against this tall oak tree and I’d be on her lap and she’d have her arms wrapped around me and she would point out the funniest shaped clouds and try to pinpoint what they resemble. Sometimes she’d even joke around and say the weirdest shaped cloud looked like father.”

You giggled at that last part, your heart swelling at the story. He rarely talked about his family, but when he did, it would always be of his mother and a happy memory he had with her, never his father.

“Draco, can I ask you something?” you turn onto your side, your elbow holding you up as you gazed down at him.

“What do you wanna know, darling?” you blushed at the nickname but brushed it aside, knowing he only meant it in a friendly way.

“Forgive me if it’s rude, you don’t have to answer,” you begin, “but do you miss your father? I know it’s none of my business and I’m so sorry the Daily Prophet put your family business on blast like that. I can’t imagine how that must have felt.”

Draco frowned and followed you in turning onto his side and propping himself up with his elbow to face you. You remembered the image of Draco and his mother on the newspaper, bright lights flashing across their faces as all the press tried to get picture of them after the sentencing of Lucius Malfoy to Azkaban. You remembered seeing Draco look so sad, yet strong beside his mother as he looked from her and then into the camera with disdain.

“Sometimes, I do,” he answers, eyebrows furrowed as he thought of his father. “My whole life, he’s expected nothing short of perfection from me. There were no room for mistakes, and if I made any, I would be punished for them. I remember coming to Hogwarts was like an escape, a place where I could finally sort of relax and be a child. I don’t miss his scolding or his coldness. But I miss having a father, I miss going home on that first day of summer and seeing both my parents even if he was going to reprimand me for something later on in the day. He’s been with me my whole life, and now he’s gone, stuck in a cell in Azkaban. He’s never going to be the same. Home is never going to be the same.”

You felt tears prick your eyes as you listened to the boy beside you, a distant look in his eyes as he turned back over on his back to look at the sky in the middle of his explanation. You sat up and he did the same, looking at you with a frown when he noticed you were about to cry. You took your hand in his and held it tightly.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” you mumble. “You don’t deserve any of the bad things you’ve been through.”

“I do,” he shrugs. “I’ve been a real git since I’ve been at Hogwarts, you know.”

“You’re different now,” you say. “Sure, you still haven’t lost a little bit of the Malfoy snobbishness and you’re still a bit of a git, but you’re kinder and more gentle. You’re a lot more empathetic and perceptive. I mean, I’ve never spoken to you prior to this year, but your reputation follows and the Draco in front of me doesn’t seem anything like the Draco you were.”

“How you’ve managed to insult me while complimenting me is something I’ve never seen anyone be able to do successfully is astonishing,” he laughs, a smile growing on his face as you laughed with him.

“I’m serious, Dray,” you giggle, “I think you’re a good person.”

“I’m not good,” he thinks to himself. The compliment leaving your lips made him feel foul. He didn’t deserve to have such a kind soul complimenting him to be something he’d never amount to. He frowned and harshly stood up, and you quickly followed. Suddenly afraid that you might have overstepped your boundaries.

“Where are you going?” You ask, fear trembling in your voice. He begins to hurriedly walk off and you chase after him, stopping in front of him so you could place your hands on his chest to stop him.

“Y/N, let me go,” he pleads. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“I think I’ve been around you long enough to know who you are.”

“Not long enough.”

You stare up at him, but he refuses to look at you. His body feels rigid under your touch and it pains you to see him beginning to shut down again.

“I know something has been bothering you this year, and I know it’s not just because of what happened with your father,” you start. “I don’t know what is hurting you so deeply enough to make you hate yourself, but I’m here to tell you that whatever that thing is, it doesn’t define you.”

Draco swallows thickly, the tears already falling down his cheeks. “It does, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you cry with him. “Even if you don’t see your goodness, I do.”

Both you and Draco are crying, the tree you were now standing under was swaying violently in the wind, as if it was picking up on your guys’ emotions. You placed a hand on his cheek, and he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I’m not good,” he whispers to you, “and once you see that, you’re going to hate me.”

“I could never hate you, Draco Malfoy,” you promise, a complete sincerity in your voice that it makes his heart jump.

Draco lifts his head up and sniffles, he watched you do the same, peering up at him through your wet lashes. He brought his thumb up to smooth the crease in between your eyebrows, letting it fall down to your cheeks where he wiped away the stray tears that had stilled. His hand then landed on your mouth that was pulled down in a grimace that matched his own. His thumb grazed over your lips, the softness of them nearly driving him mad. He wanted nothing more than to feel them against his own, but he couldn’t bring himself to kiss you. He didn’t want to drag you into the darkness of his life more than he already has.

“Kiss me,” you said to him, so softly but it rang loud in his ears. You had seen the way he looked at you and how he seemed so focused on your lips. You knew what he was thinking because it was exactly what you were thinking. You wanted this just as badly as he did. “Kiss me.”

Every argument he had in his head vanished and suddenly he closed the small space between the two of you and gently placed his lips onto yours. It was a fluid movement, like two puzzle pieces fitting together.

Your hands found their way in his hair, holding him closer to you and he did the same by gripping onto your hips. His lips were soft against yours, filled with fervor and desire. He was gentle with you, but you could still feel the deepness of his kiss and how it intensified with each second. He had put all his emotions into it, his care, his appreciation, his want, his sadness, his grief, his love.

When he pulled away and the two of you stood there staring at each other with love stricken eyes, he realized he had made a grave mistake.

He realized he was in love with you. He realized that he would never be able to let you go, and you would never let him go. And he knew that with the direction his life was going in, one way or another, you would get hurt and he would lose you, maybe even to death itself.

So in that moment he knew. As much as he loved you and wanted more than anything to be with you, he couldn’t put you in that position where you would be staring evil and death in the face. He wouldn’t tarnish your beautiful soul like that.

“I have to go,” he breathed out. “Please, leave me alone. For good.”

And with that he turned away, leaving you standing under the tree with tears falling down your face, a sob escaping your throat and the sound of your knees hitting the grass below you. He held back his own cries and walked faster away from you, knowing you had finally done damage to yourself that you couldn’t heal, and it was all his fault.

PART 2

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hangovercurse · 4 years

Text

I’d Drop it All for You

Pictures of you and Pete are spread all over the internet, causing a whirlwind of hate to enter your social media.

Request: “Pete content please! anything !!! smut fluff whatever”

Pete x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, depictions of depression and anxiety

A/N: *Insert normal spiel about respecting A.G. and only using her for plot purposes. No harm intended.* Also I wrote most of this after a meeting with my therapist so... enjoy :) (He’s so cute in this gif I wanna kiss his face)

Word Count: 1820

You weren’t one of those people who loved being the center of attention. You knew that being in the spotlight also meant constantly living under a microscope, and you decided a long time ago that that was not for you.

But you were lucky enough to work as an assistant art director at just 24. You were hoping that The King of Staten Island, your newest project, would help get your name out into the professional world. But that wasn’t the only thing to come out of the film.

It happened unexpectedly, you showed up on set the first day, ready to do whatever the art director required of you. You couldn’t help but be slightly distracted by the lead actor and writer, Pete Davidson. He was so kind and funny, and he wasn’t uptight like everyone else.

After a few hours of filming, he came up to you, introducing himself. He said he “wanted to get to know everyone working on the project,” but you didn’t see him introducing himself to anyone else. You two started talking during breaks. Then he started sitting with you at lunch. Then he was asking for your number.

In a matter of weeks he was asking you out to dinner, taking you to a cozy restaurant that you absolutely adored. He walked you home, his hand grazing yours until you intertwined your fingers.

It was all very romantic, so when Pete asked if he could take you on another, you obviously said yes. Flash forward two weeks and he finally got the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, even though you were both exclusively seeing each other already.

After filming ended 2 months later, you were still working on the film in post, which meant you had an excuse to stay in Staten Island with Pete. After about 2 weeks in post, you spent more nights in his bed than your hotel’s.

Nearly 6 months later and you were happier than ever. You were splitting your time between your small apartment in the Bronx and Pete’s basement apartment. Pete introduced you to most of his friends, and you introduced him to yours.

But other than your small circles of friends, you kept your relationship fairly quiet. Pete doesn’t have social media and yours is strictly professional, so there are no pictures of you two together. You weren’t hiding each other, you loved each other, you just had no reason to tell tabloids. And you were perfectly happy with that.

Which made it so much worse when various news sites had pictures of you two holding hands. Had they been anyone else you would’ve thought they were cute, walking along the South Beach oceanside at night.

Pete had been in the SNL studio all day when the pictures were released, while you were in his apartment, trying your best to focus on the photoset in front of you. The production team wanted the film to scream “teen romance,” which basically entails subtle pink undertones and a higher saturation. But you couldn’t quite get the coloring right, probably because you weren’t actually focusing on the colors.

You sighed, looking at the time and realizing that Pete won’t be back until sometime after 2am, which was a whole 5 hours away. You let out a huff, pushing away from the desk and making your way to Pete’s closet and searching for one of his hoodies. They always smelled like him (and weed), so it was a comfort to you.

You crashed onto the bed, finding the phone that you had tossed there a few hours earlier. Turning it on you were surprised by the number of notifications you were getting. You knew the photos had surfaced but you weren’t expecting this.

Your Instagram was blowing up with new follows, likes, and comments. It was kind of exciting at first until you started reading some of the comments.

I mean, we knew he would downgrade from Ari, but this is like… really far down.

This girl really thinks she’s special just bc Pete’s dating her. Hun he could do so much better

Who is she?!? Literally no one.

Someone needs to show her how to dress

That hairstyle is not it honey

Pete Davidson is dating YOU??? He could do sooo much better

Ari was prettier sorry not sorry

The entire comment section on your last post, a picture of you on the set of your latest film, was pretty much the same. There were some nice comments, but a lot of mean ones.

And you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t stop looking at them. It felt so cliché, but it was like all of your deepest insecurities about being with Pete were thrown out on the table.

You knew that Pete had a fairly large following, and that a lot of people had really strong feelings about him. You had expected that if and when your relationship went public you would have a lot of people watching you, scrutinizing you. But you didn’t care because Pete was worth it.

Now you weren’t so sure. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle people talking bad about you, because you definitely could, even if it hurt. You just weren’t expecting the amount of people comparing you to Ariana or saying that Pete could do so much better.

And it only bothered you so much because you felt it too. Your inner demons loved to remind you that Pete had dated Ariana fucking Grande and now he’s dating you. Anyone could see an obvious downgrade.

You turned your phone off and threw it on the opposite side of the bed, trying to think positive thoughts. “I am in control of my own thoughts and emotions. I am catching my negative thoughts and fixing them.” You murmured your therapist’s mantra to yourself, but it was too late. The thoughts had already taken hold of your mind.

Your eyes started to water as you could feel the heavy feeling in your chest set in. You pulled the hood over your head, pulling the straps to hide as much of your face as possible, and pulling your knees to your chest. You laid like that for a while, tears falling as doubts ran through your head. Once you had effectively exhausted your thoughts, you went numb. Your tears had stopped, but you couldn’t move. This wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it sure wasn’t pleasurable.

There was a sort of buzzing throughout your body, almost like the feeling when your foot falls asleep, but everywhere. It seemed to block out your sound, as you didn’t hear the basement door open. You only knew that Pete was home when he sat beside you on the bed, pulling the hood off your face.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” He smiled at you. You tried your best to fake one back, but you honestly couldn’t find the energy. Pete pulled you so you were sitting up, back pressed against his front. His arms wrapped around your middle as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “What’s goin on?” He murmured against your skin.

“Did you see them?” You asked, your voice quiet and hoarse.

Pete let out a sigh, “Yeah, I saw them.” He paused, his hold on you getting tighter, like he was making sure you couldn’t leave. “I’m sorry baby. I know you didn’t want it to be a whole big thing.”

You turned your head to face him, “It’s not that. I really don’t mind that people know. We weren’t trying to hide anything.”

He smiled, “Yeah, I know I just- it was nice having this to ourselves.”

He wanted to hide you. He’s embarrassed of you.

Your inner dialogue never seemed to shut up.

You turned away from Pete, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “Yeah.” You whispered.

“What’s wrong, you’re still upset.” He rocked you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. You shrugged in response, not trusting yourself to talk. “You can talk to me, y’know.”

You nodded, leaning further into Pete’s chest. “People found my Instagram.” You murmured, looking down and tracing the arrow tattoo on his hand.

“Whaddya mean? I thought it was public?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

You sighed, wishing you hadn’t said anything. “Yeah, it is. But after all the articles people started following me and shit.”

“I would ask how that’s a problem but I deleted my Instagram so I can’t really talk.” You could tell he was trying to make you feel better, but you couldn’t seem to get out of your haze.

You shook your head, deciding to drop the matter. “It’s not, I’m just being overdramatic.” You sighed, putting on a fake smile and facing him fully. “Wanna watch a movie?” You asked, trying to change the topic.

He gave you the I-know-you’re-bullshitting-me look, which made you look down. “Something’s bothering you, Y/N. And you’re trying to pretend it doesn’t because you think your feelings aren’t valid, but they are.” He tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes that were still trained on the bedsheets below you.

“Where’d you learn that one?” You chuckled half-heartedly.

“Rehab part 2” he smiled, hand coming to your jaw to tilt your head up. “C’mon, talk to me. I wanna help.”

You huffed, moving towards the opposite side of the bed where your phone laid. You opened it, finding your Instagram, and showing him the comments. His eyebrows furrowed as he scrolled through the comments. When he decided he’d had enough he put your phone down, grabbing your waist and lifting you onto his lap so you were essentially straddling him.

He leaned his forehead against your own, your noses touching. “That’s all bullshit, you know that, right?”

You looked down, biting your lip. “Y/N you’re the most amazing, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, okay? I’m in love with you, not anyone else.” Pete’s eyes were searching yours, trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

“I know.” You sighed, “It’s just hard to be with you and not compare myself to her. And then all these people started to do it too, and they kept saying that you could do so much better and you can. So, I dunno I guess I just kind of spiraled.”

Pete captured your lips in a long, passionate kiss. “Y/N. There is literally no better than you. I can’t do better because you are the best woman I have ever loved. “

You pulled Pete in for another kiss. “Thank you, Pete. I love you.”

“I love you too. If this happens again, I want you to call me. I don’t care what I’m doing, I’d drop it all for you.” You smiled, sitting in the arms of the guy you loved. The thoughts didn’t just magically go away, but for a brief moment in time, you were happy.

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson angst #pete davidson fluff

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professorspork · 3 years

Note

If you're accepting non-superhell prompts, I'd love to see a conversation between Nora and Emerald! I've been REALLY loving these microfics, I've subscribed to you on Ao3, I'll read whatever else you write

[Gahhh that’s so nice you’re so nice!! thanks for being patient on this one, finding my Nora took some doing]

It’s occurring to Emerald that she’s never had a close female friend before.

You say that like you’ve ever had any friends before, the voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Mercury needles her, but she brushes it aside. Like—okay, yeah, she’ll concede the point when it comes to Cinder. In hindsight, whatever they’d had going on between them may have been... super intense... but it probably had never been friendship, in the usual definition. But she and Mercury were friends, no matter what the judgy little shitstain version of him who lives in her head has to say about it. They’d always gotten along. Told each other stuff. It’s not like there’s more to it than that, right?

It had always been like that. Been—instinctive somehow, with guys. Before Cinder, on the street, it was always the men who’d been easiest to manipulate; who would empty their pockets for a smile and a sob story. And then she and Merc had been two sides of the same coin for so long, and then... well, Hazel’d liked her enough to die for her, apparently. (Which—that’s a door that she keeps closed, thanks. She shuts it firmly again, now.) Oscar seems fond of her, in a sweet, uncomplicated sort of way that she really doesn’t know what to do with, seeing as he shares headspace with like a trillion year old man and the idea that anything to do with that kid could be “uncomplicated” is batshit. Ren vouched for her once, and then again, and now he keeps doing it, like it’s habit, like she should just be used to the fact that people are going to have her back, to ask her if she’s eaten, to turn to her with a raised eyebrow in conversation like her opinion would be constructive.

Anyway.

Now that she’s noticed the pattern, it seems like the kind of thing she should probably… work on, or whatever. And Nora seems like an obvious place for Emerald to start. They’ve been thrown in together a lot, lately, Emerald and Oscar expected to fill in the gaps of what’s left of the old JNPR by default. Not that they’ve ever really had a conversation about it—Emerald can’t think of the last time Nora said two words to her that weren’t combat warnings like “more Grimm coming” or “on your left,” but. That’s probably just because things have been tense. She remembers Nora being friendly, on the whole of it. Off-puttingly friendly, even, back at Beacon.

How hard could it be?

The answer, it turns out, is absurdly hard. Nora’s barely ever in the temporary barracks they’re all living out of, instead always checking on the refugees, going on supply runs over esoteric requests, volunteering for extra patrols. Emerald used to find that kind of dogged do-goodery gag-inducing, but now that she’s been the helping hand herself a few times, she’s starting to see the appeal. The way people look at you when you’ve been of service, it’s—nice. Really nice. But Nora works utterly thankless jobs, the kind most people don’t even notice, let alone appreciate. And when they have their insufferably long leadership meetings and they’re talking about distribution of resources or whatever, Nora’s a fierce debater—jumping in to advocate for the people from Mantle sometimes even before May can. As far as Emerald can tell, she does this stuff just because... she believes in it. Because it’s the right thing to do, and someone has to.

She can’t imagine what it would feel like, to have the attention of someone like that turned on her. She’s craved it from the wrong people for so long, but now that she has her pick of options... she’s letting herself actually want the right kind, for once. She thinks.

Which is all to say that largely through no fault of her own, Emerald unexpectedly finds herself sitting with a profound, fervent desire for Nora Valkyrie to think she’s cool.

She hates that.

Fighting with Nora is easy.

(—er. Alongside. Fighting alongside Nora is easy. Emerald’s done fighting with these people. Very done.)

It’s weird, because Emerald’s finding working with a full team to be a real adjustment. When battles get big enough to merit it, she’s used to keeping to the sidelines to use her Semblance for nefarious purposes, or, in a jam, used to having Mercury’s six—literally, because all the forward momentum from his feet-first style always left his back wide open. Figuring out where to put herself so that Oscar can use her shoulder as a fulcrum as he dodges, or trying to aim for the Grimm Ren isn’t already shooting (ugh)—it’s taking work.

But somehow, it’s not work for Nora. Nora seems to anticipate with perfect ease how Emerald will move or what she’ll be doing; Nora bobs and weaves around their ragtag little band with her war hammer like it’s breathing.

It doesn’t bother Emerald until it does, and she means to bring it up casually but there’s never a good time. So it just… stews, and stews, until she can’t keep it bottled up anymore.

Which means that instead of the earnest question she intends it to be, it comes out like this:

“Okay, seriously? It’s creepy how you do that.”

It’s just the two of them, plus the handful of dweeby Atlesian tech-types they’re escorting back from their foray installing some fancy hydro-filtration modules on the outskirts of the camp. And it’s not like Emerald had felt outmatched by the half-dozen Ravagers that had decided they looked like lunch—she can shoot Ravagers in her sleep, at this point—but still. The way Nora had moved around her, it was like they’d been fighting side by side for years.

Nora just cocks her head to the side. “Do what?” she asks, like she hadn’t just basically read Emerald’s mind in front of the water nerds.

Emerald does a complicated gesture with her hands, wrist over wrist, and then flicking two fingers—trying to evoke the way Nora had flipped over Emerald’s back and then kicked off, just trusting Emerald would reel her back in with a chain in midair before a Grimm could fly away with her sorry ass. “That.”

“Oh!” Nora laughs and rubs at the back of her neck, looking sheepish. “It’s nothing. I guess it’s just not a big deal for me? Like—I was there when Ren built StormFlower. The cables are newish, but we practiced so much back in Atlas… I dunno. It’s just reflex, when your weapons are so similar. Fighting with you, it’s almost like fighting with him. I don’t even have to think about it.”

Nora swallows, then, and makes a face Emerald can’t interpret—disappointed, maybe, or ashamed. Which: good. She probably should be, taking things for granted like that.

“Well—just—” Emerald’s not even sure what she wants to say. Ask, next time? Don’t? “You shouldn’t make assumptions. I’m not your boyfriend, okay?”

The venom she puts behind the word is directed more at herself than Nora—frustrated, again, that she’s put herself in the position of wanting so desperately to be liked.

Pathetic.

Nora just nods, looking glum.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, cheeks pulling in a bitter smile. “You’d think I’d be able to keep that one straight, huh?”

She says it with such pointed irony that for a second Emerald wonders if she’d gotten it wrong somehow, but like—Nora and Ren are a thing, right? That’s—everyone knows that.

“Hey, what—?”

“Let’s just go,” Nora says, and Emerald automatically falls into line behind her.

They make the rest of the walk back in silence.

Sometimes at night, when she can’t sleep, Emerald likes to climb up to the roof of the barracks and look out over the refugee camp.

It’s—peaceful, is all. A good reminder of where she is; how far she’s come. The night sky in Vacuo has more stars than she’s ever seen, and being able to watch over all these people who have somehow become her responsibility… well.

A part of her will always be standing on the rooftop at Beacon, looking down on pure chaos as a queasy, frightened sensation twists in her gut and its noxious voice whispers you did this, you did this, you did this. What did you think was going to happen, you stupid little girl? You don’t get to feel sorry for it now.

But she does.

Weird how the only thing that’s helped is actually doing something about it.

She hears a scuffling noise over her shoulder, and she’s got Thief’s Respite drawn and ready before she can even really register what she’s heard. She relaxes when she sees it’s Nora at the other end of the barrels, unarmed and hands raised—a funny little smile on her face, like yeah, fair enough, I should have known better than to try and sneak up.

“Just me,” she says, unnecessarily.

Emerald holsters her guns. “Can I help you?” she asks, and—what is it about her voice, that makes sentences that would be nice if any other human said them come out straight-up hostile?

Nora shrugs, hands dropping to her sides. “I was hoping we could talk; I figured you’d come up here if I waited long enough.”

Well, see—what kind of lesson is she supposed to take from that? She’s been hoping for Nora to talk to her for weeks, and acting like a bitch is the thing that gets her what she wants? Good guys are supposed to know better.

And there’s the way she said it, too. Like everyone knows Emerald comes up here to brood; like it’s a big open secret. The knowledge sits uncomfortably in her stomach, makes her feel watched. Even now, even here, she can’t get a moment alone. Not really.

“What, so you’re spying on me now?”

Nora’s eyes narrow. “I have a pretty bad track record when it comes to losing people. Makes a girl want to put in a little hustle when it comes to keeping tabs on her friends.”

And Emerald would snark at that, or maybe apologize, or something, only—

Nora thinks they’re friends?

“Well, take a seat, I guess,” she mumbles, scooching to the side as though she needs to make room on the massive, empty roof.

Nora walks over and joins Emerald on the asphalt, letting her legs dangle over the edge. Seemingly unsure of where to start, she stares at her hands. Emerald stares too, but her eyes can’t help but wander—tracing the way scars, silvery in the moonlight, spiderweb up Nora’s bare wrists and forearms to fetter her shoulders, clavicle, neck. Like cracks in a pane of glass, right before it shatters.

(Only that’s not it at all, is it? It’s not a sign of weakness, but a warning of strength. I care this much, her scars announce to the word. You wanna try me?

Hazel’s arms always looked like that.)

Emerald doesn’t want to be the one to break the silence, sure that whatever she’d say would be incredibly stupid.

Luckily, Nora has no such qualms, and opens with: “I really admire you, you know?”

Emerald stares, jaw slack, certain she’s heard wrong. “I—what?” She’d say something defensive, like yeah right or you don’t have to make fun of me, only Nora’s eyes are so wide and so guileless they don’t leave any room for argument.

“I mean it,” Nora adds. “I know we don’t know all that much about each other, but… here’s what I do know: I can’t remember a time I saw you without Mercury right behind. Just like me’n Ren. And the way you fought for Cinder…” Nora smiles a sad, private little smile. “You don’t fight like that unless it’s personal; unless someone means something to you. Just like me’n Ren. And now you’re here. All on your own. And you didn’t have to be. That’s—don’t you think that’s crazy brave? I sure do.”

Of course she fucking doesn’t. Crazy brave would have been walking away the first, tenth, hundredth time she had a flash of panic about what she was doing. Or, better yet, doing something about it. Crazy brave is taking thirty thousand volts to get to your friends; it’s flooding your veins with pure crystalline power and saying Go, I’m doing what Gretchen would have done, it’s—

She closes that door.

“It’s not like I really had a choice,” she sighs, dodging the question.

“Oh, you know that’s not true,” Nora scoffs dismissively, tilting sideways to nudge Emerald with her shoulder.

And Emerald jolts, because—look, it’s not like no one touches her. They have to manhandle each other all the time in battle, and… and Oscar gives her high fives sometimes, which makes her embarrassingly pleased. But what Nora’s offering now, that kind of buddy-buddy casual contact…

… it’s been a while, is all.

“So, why did you want to talk to me?” Emerald asks, overwhelmed and suddenly desperate to find a way to get this conversation over with. She feels like she’s sprinted five miles; like she’s had the crap kicked out of her and she has to go somewhere to lick her wounds. Too much, too fast.

Nora laughs—a chuffing, cynical noise that doesn’t sound at all like her. “Looking for pointers? See, I’m trying this thing where I do things on my own, but I just—I suck at it. Like today; you saw. Even when I’m not with Ren, all I do is… is act exactly the same way I do when I’m with Ren. Like I literally don’t know how to exist without him, whether he’s actually there or not. And I know that’s not fair to anyone; I didn’t mean to treat you like—” She shakes her head, biting her lip. “You’re not just some stand-in. It’s not you at all. I’m just—broken, or something. One trick pony.”

“No, hey—”

“But you figured it out,” she barrels on, which is good, because Emerald doesn’t actually have a clue what she would have said there. “You don’t have anyone and somehow you’re just, like—good to go!” Nora says it cheerily, like it’s a compliment, but has the grace to balk a little when she hears how it sounds. “…sorry. That’s—sorry.”

Emerald shrugs, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin there. She feels like an idiot; building it up for weeks like spending time with Nora would solve all her problems when, surprise surprise, Nora’s just as fucked up as she is.

“Hate to disappoint you, but I don’t have any hot tips,” she mutters into the crooks of her elbows. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. Like—you want to know the really sad part? I was just following your lead.”

“My…?” Nora can’t even finish repeating it, which: Emerald can’t blame her. It’s so dumb. “Huh?”

“Come on. You know.”

“I don’t,” Nora says, voice thick with exhaustion. Like she’s sick of herself. “Ask anyone—I’m not the brains of the operation.”

Hearing Nora talk about herself that way makes Emerald’s chest feel tight; like her ribs have locked in place so her lungs can’t expand. She doesn’t know how to explain it; not without sounding like a starry-eyed fangirl or a moron with a crush and that’s not what this—it’s only that—

She chooses to start a different way.

“You wanna know why I switched sides? Like, really why?”

Nora softens, and reaches out to touch the back of Emerald’s left hand, where it dangles over her knee. “Sure,” she says, but Emerald barely hears it; it’s taking all of her concentration not to clench her fist or pull away in response.

“I overheard Oscar—or, Ozpin, I guess, I don’t know—talking to Hazel about Salem, about her goals. And… listen. No one joins under Salem because they’re trying to kill the world, okay? I mean, no one but Tyrian, anyway. We were all just trying to… find ways to get by. And when Cinder found me, she—” Emerald swallows, hard. This cuts too deep, too close. It’s not something she can just say. “I wasn’t trying to be some big villain, or something. I was just—looking out for the people who were looking out for me. And why wouldn’t I? No one else ever seemed to think I was worth it.”

“Of course you are,” Nora cuts in, quiet but vehement. “Everyone is.”

“See, the worst part is that you mean that when you say it,” Emerald grumbles, scrubbing at her face until smears of color kaleidoscope behind her closed eyes. “I figured people like you didn’t exist, and then Cinder and Merc were glad to prove me right, and—I let them. You know? And maybe if I’d just held out a little longer…”

“You’re not the only one here who’s ashamed of her past. Harriet tried to blow up Mantle, like, a month ago.”

“That’s not—forget that. I’m talking about you. Nora.” It’s the first time she’s ever said her name like that—addressing her, in conversation. It feels… astonishingly intimate, for so small a thing. Emerald powers past it. “Every day, I see you do something ridiculous, like double back on a patrol because you forgot you promised some kid a candy bar, or something, and that—matters. To me. It’s so stupid, but it’s not, because… argh! I want—it’s—” She tries to get her mouth to form the words, that’s the kind of person I want to be, but they stop in her throat.

Still, Nora seems to get the message. Her eyes seem suspiciously shiny for a moment—but when she blinks, it’s gone. “I… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Emerald grumbles. Saying it like she means it: seriously. Don’t mention it.

“I understand what you mean, though. For years, the only person who looked out for me was Ren. And if he’d said…” Nora trails off, then, cocking her head to the side as she works through something. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing, just. I remembered something. I was about to say that if Ren told me the only way for us to get by was a life of crime, or something, I would’ve taken his word for it, but—the opposite happened. We decided to enroll at Beacon. And that wasn’t his idea; it was mine. I always wanted to be a Huntress. To… to be the one strong enough to help people, instead of always needing the help. He wasn’t sure if we would make it, but I was. We were together, right? How could we lose?” She chuckles, a little, shaking her head at herself. “Get a load of that. He followed me.”

They smile at each other, then. Like they’ve figured out something profound. Maybe Nora has; Emerald hopes so.

“I’m glad you’re here, Emerald,” Nora says, and—there it is again. The frisson of electricity that comes with being referred to by name.

Of course, then Emerald ruins it by blurting out:

“Of course you are, all your other friends are dead.”

Which—“Fuck!” she sputters, because she didn’t mean to say that. What is wrong with her? “Sorry! Sorry.”

Nora only grins at her, feral and incisive. “Yeah, well. Yours are evil, so. Pick your poison. At least I’m proud of mine.”

Touché.

“Still glad I’m here?” Emerald jeers, because her first instinct is still to press on the bruise to see how much it hurts.

Nora laughs, and gets to her feet. “Believe it or not, yes. If putting your foot in your mouth was all it took to get booted from Hero Club, I’d have been kicked out a long time ago.” She reaches down to offer Emerald a hand; Emerald takes it, letting Nora pull her to standing. “Now go and get some rest, huh? None of us can ever sleep when you’re up here thinking so loud.”

“That an order?”

“Advice. Friends give it, from time to time.”

And—yeah. Maybe they do.

#typeoneninja #emerald sustrai #nora valkyrie #rwby #emerald and nora #fic what i wrote

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things between them deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist

Chapter 6

Spencer slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the morning light seeping in through the curtains. Jo was resting peacefully on his lap just like how they were during the movie. Unexpectedly however, Y/N was leant up against his shoulder, softly breathing. Spencer wished he could stay like this forever, this is how it should have always been. But then, he noticed the time on his watch and realized it was Monday morning.

Jo was tightly clinging on to his right arm so he slowly lifted his left hand and nudged you slightly. You mumbled and dug yourself further into the crook of his neck, clearly not awake yet.

“Y/N, it’s Monday and it’s 7:30 in the morning,” he whispered.

Your eyes shot open and you quickly distanced yourself from him.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to-well you know,” you gestured to his shoulder.

“Josephine, baby, you need to get up now. Mommy forgot to set an alarm for school,” you gently shook the kid awake.

You lifted Jo up as she was beginning to wake and carried her upstairs to dress her.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Spencer called out.

“Could you pack her lunch? Give her a juice box, a fruit cup, a bag of cheez-it’s, and a PB&J please,” you shouted back.

Spencer ran to the kitchen, grabbing the empty dinosaur lunch box from Jo’s backpack. He grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer to keep the lunch box cool inside, putting in a fruit punch juice box and a diced peaches fruit cup with a spoon. He poured some cheez-it’s into a ziploc bag and sealed it shut. Then, Spencer located the peanut butter in the cupboards, slathering it on to the other slice of bread.

“Crust on or cut off?” he yelled upstairs.

“On is fine! Thank you!” you replied as you finished brushing Jo’s hair, starting to head downstairs.

“Jo, grab your lunch box from Spencer and thank him for making you lunch, put it in your backpack, and grab a pop-tart for the road. Mommy just needs to grab her work bag,” you said, putting on a tan blazer and pinning your hair back with bobby pins.

Jo nodded and thanked Spencer, grabbing a strawberry frosted pop-tart and running out the front door with her backpack.

“You know pop-tarts have only three grams of protein but are high in refined carbs like high fructose corn syrup. Studies show they actually can make you hungrier,” Spencer stated.

He wasn’t intending to take a jab at Y/N’s choice of breakfast for Jo this morning but you certainly took it that way.

“I’m sorry, have you raised a kid?” you asked sarcastically.

“No but who’s fault is that?” he snapped back, immediately regretting it.

Your hands fell from where they were adjusting your hair in the mirror. You did not look at him or say a single word as you collected your purse and laptop and began to walk to the door.

“Y/N, wait! I didn’t mean that,” he pleaded.

You inhaled and turned around.

“You don’t get to sit on your high horse and act like I didn’t do you a favor, Spencer,” you clenched your jaw.

“A FAVOR?” he asked incredulously, “You call missing six years of my daughter’s life a favor?”

“You’re seriously going to look me in the eye and tell me that if I called you seven years ago saying I was pregnant, you would have quit the FBI and moved back,” you questioned.

“I-”

“Even if you did quit, you would have ended up resenting us for not getting to fulfill your dreams so yeah I did you a favor.”

“So you think our daughter is some massive burden that you ‘took the bullet’ on? If you truly think that, then maybe I’ll just fight you for custody.”

“I was fully aware of my options back then. I chose to have Jo because she was my dream. But she clearly wasn’t yours because you left me the second you had something better lined up. And I’d like to see you fucking try to fight for custody, news flash! Your name isn’t on the birth certificate. You have no legal rights over Jo. But how dare you even threaten to take my child away from me over a fucking pop-tart, you asshole,” you stormed out the house, slamming the front door behind you.

The feeling in Spencer’s chest now the exact opposite of when he woke up this morning.

Please call me. I’m sorry, I was out of line.

You had a multitude of missed calls and texts from Spencer that you didn’t reply to but that was the first one he sent. One of them said he was being called away on a case so luckily he wasn’t showing up at your door every day.

It was Saturday night and Jo had fallen asleep on the couch watching Tom & Jerry cartoons. You clicked the TV off and carried her up the stairs. You tucked her under her dinosaur comforter and kissed her forehead.

“Bedtime story, Mommy,” she mumbled.

“Okay, which one?” you asked, looking at the bookshelf.

“Caltechia,” she said, opening her eyes slightly.

“What?” you furrowed your brow.

“Spencer told it to me. You know the one with the goofy knight that loves the elegant queen and pretty princess of Caltechia,” Jo stated matter-of-factly.

You smiled softly, “I’m sorry, Baby J, I don’t know how that one ends. Maybe Spencer can finish it for you some day. How about The Very Hungry Caterpillar instead?”

She nodded and her eyes fluttered shut once again as you began to read.

After flicking the lights off and gently shutting Jo’s door, you returned downstairs to grade some papers.

You got through about five when there was a soft hesitant knock on the door. You sighed, closing your laptop. Your TV was on as background noise and the lights in the living room were on so it was obvious you were home and still awake. You already knew who it was without even looking.

You opened the door slightly to see Spencer standing there with swollen puffy eyes and nervous fidgety hands.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly.

You opened the door all the way and plopped yourself back down on the couch.

“Jo is sleeping so if you came here to yell at me again, save it,” you huffed.

“No, I came here to apologize. I wasn’t trying to criticize your parenting. I was just stating a random fact I read, it was stupid. I’m sorry. And I’m also sorry that I escalated the argument instead of trying to defuse it,” he spoke softly.

“I’m sorry too. I should have known that it was just another statistic. Some things never change,” you laughed softly.

“But Y/N, you knew that I had a father that abandoned me and my worst fear was becoming him and you still kept Jo from me anyways,” he whispered with watery eyes.

“You know how you claimed you broke up with me to protect me? I thought keeping Jo from you so you didn’t have to make that decision was kind of like protecting you. You can’t abandon a child you didn’t know existed.”

“Well, I know about her now and I’m not abandoning her. I don’t want to. Can you please let me be her dad and not just her father?” he pleaded, wiping away the tear that rolled down his cheek.

“We can tell her at breakfast in the morning and you can come with us to the park tomorrow. I guess we could work out some days that you can drop her off at school or pick her up and keep her for dinner. But she sleeps here, I’m not budging on that for now. She needs some consistency if we are going to spring this on her,” you replied.

“Yes! Yes! Thank you,” he excitedly whisper-shouted.

Without even realizing what he was doing, Spencer pulled you in for a hug. He soon realized when you tensed in his arms.

“Oh-uh I’m sorry,” he stuttered, pulling his arms back, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

He awkwardly waved as he made his way to the door.

“Good night, Spencer.”

“Night, Y/N.”

You pulled back the window curtain a little to watch Spencer walk out of your driveway. He had his back turned to you but you saw him pump his fist in the air and jump up and down a few times before collecting himself and beginning to walk away with a smile on his face. You laughed to yourself. Still the same old goofy Spencer.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer reid #reid x reader #cm fic #spencer reid x you

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