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five-rivers · 3 years

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Three Twilights

Can be considered a loose sequel to Deep Sea Diver (same vibes).

Warnings: Soft body horror, Danny totally ignoring objectively horrifying things

“I was thinking,” started Maddie over breakfast, “we could start observations of that island that came into view last week, the blue one.”

Danny shook his head. “You’ll have to use the Speeder, then,” he said. “I’ve got an errand to run.”

There was a pause as both of Danny’s parents looked at him, confused. He didn’t blame them. Danny rarely went out as a human anymore, and certainly not for anything like errands. Looking like he was still fourteen after all this time made doing anything even remotely official difficult.

But this wasn’t a human errand. “Yeah,” said Danny. “In the Ghost Zone. I’ve got to go to Three Twilights.”

“Where?” asked Jack.

“It’s, um, a city,” said Danny. “Well, three cities, I suppose, depending on how you want to group them. One Realm. On the shores of the Celestial Sea. I’m sure I’ve put it in your files.” Probably a direct copy from his files from before he came clean to them, but still. He stirred his cereal counterclockwise, letting his ice powers chill the milk.

“Yes,” said Maddie, “but there are a lot of places in there. I’m not sure we’ve had a chance to properly look at them all, much less memorize them.”

“Okay, yeah,” said Danny. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What kind of errand are you running, Danno?”

“I’m picking something up for a friend. A book,” he clarified. “They lent it to someone there, but they need it back.”

“A book,” said Maddie. “For the Library of Tongues?”

“No, they’ve got a contract service for overdue loans.”

“Contract service?” asked Jack.

“Yeah. Moonlighting bounty hunters mostly.”

“For a library?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” said Danny, shrugging. “They’re really serious about their work.”

“If it isn’t for them, who is it for?” asked Maddie. “The princess? Wulf?” Wulf had actually been over a few times, and his parents had… Well, saying they got along would be an overstatement, they didn’t really have anything in common beyond ripping portals in the fabric of the universe, but everyone had been civil. “The boy at the school?”

“No,” said Danny. “Wulf would just get it himself.”

“Who, then?” pressed Maddie.

Danny put a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, delaying. Maddie hadn’t eaten anything since Danny had mentioned the errand. The errand was, in fact, for Clockwork. Danny was always more than happy to do anything for Clockwork. The older ghost had saved him too many times for him to be otherwise. But Jack and Maddie were wary of Clockwork. Danny didn’t get it, but talking about it hadn’t been productive so far.

He didn’t want to lie to his parents. Not ever again.

“It’s for Clockwork,” he said.

Ah, yes, there were those suspicious looks. The ones Danny could have interpreted even without being able to almost literally taste emotions.

“I see,” said Maddie.

“Anyway,” said Danny, quickly, “if I haven’t shown you Three Twilights yet, it’s really cool. I don’t want to take the full rig, but maybe the little ectocam would be okay? The one that I can clip on.”

“Why not the normal camera with an ectofilter?” asked Jack. “That has more features, and it’s easier for us to get data from.”

“Three Twilights. It’s dark there,” said Danny. “It might work in Civila, but not so much in Naŭtika and Astronomia, and I sort of want to go down to the beach and see if I can find any star pearls, and that’s really dark, so if you want to see anything properly, it’ll have to be the sonar setup, which I’m not doing, the noises that thing makes are offensive, or the ectocam.”

“And the Fenton Phones?” asked Maddie.

“Sure,” said Danny. “But I always bring those.”

“Yes,” said Maddie, after a moment. “You do.”

“Great. It’s settled, then.”

Most of the journey to Three Twilights could be made by air. Or, rather, what passed for air in the Infinite Realms. But when the rocky edge of an island came into view, Danny touched down. Further in was a blue wood, and Danny walked under its inviting branches.

The atmosphere started sunny, summery. The leaves and needles of the trees were the color of a clear blue sky. But as he got deeper, the leaves were touched with sunset colors: golds, reds, oranges, purples, and pinks. They fell to the ground, crunching beneath Danny’s feet. The sunset grew longer, deeper. The leaves on the trees grew sparser, revealing patches of sky.

By the time only bare branches framed the sky, it was a dusky, dim, purple. A few lonely stars twinkled in the sky.

He passed out of the forest. The city of Civila rose above him. Windows glowed in the near dark like eyes.

Danny had changed, too. His aura had dimmed. The whites of his suit were now dark gray, and patterns swirled on its surface like camouflage, like wind-twisted clouds, like nebulae.

Shadows bled around the corners of the city buildings like ink in water. Will-o-the-wisps bobbed, casting pools of illumination in lieu of streetlamps. Ghosts walked up and down the streets, or floated only a few meters up.

The buildings glittered. Everything was dark, vibrant, colors. A sharp, sweet scent filled the air, something dark and rich beneath it.

The canals in the center of the street were filled with flashing fish. Or perhaps serpents. Or perhaps worms. Between how fast they moved and the dimness of the light, it was difficult to tell.

Danny could feel his irises contracting, shrinking down to needle-thin rings. His teeth were sharp. He matched the other ghosts around him. This was how the Civila liked it, how things were in this part of Three Twilights.

Everything in order. Everything peaceful. Everything civil.

Danny walked through the market square, and bought some charcoal-colored cherry pastries from a vendor who looked like someone’s nightmare demon with a chip of ghost ice.

Much to his parents’ protests. They didn’t care for him eating ghost food.

There were seven bridges to Naŭtika, which was built half underwater and half on boats that floated both on the water and in the air. As the dark waters of the inlet lapped at his feet, Danny felt the changes ripple across his skin. To a human, he would look pure black, except for the faintest glimmer of rim lighting and the stars of his eyes. He and the other ghosts moved silently, cutting through the waters like shadows.

To Danny’s ghostly senses, the place was alive with emotion and force, energy loud and crackling against his senses.

“We’re solely on the ectocam, now,” said Maddie. “You were right about that.”

“Mhm,” said Danny, half distracted by a whispered sea-shanty backed by a choir of not-voices and not-sound that wove together with the mastery of a hundred years of practice.

He glided up a rope net, and began to navigate the ropes to the taller ships. The very tallest, the ones that scraped the ever-darkening sky and blotted out uneven sections of stars, moored the glass-like ships that floated above. He’d need to reach them, to get to Astronomia.

“What’s that?” asked Maddie, breaking his concentration on his path.

“What’s what?” asked Danny, whisper soft, drawing some looks. He turned, slowly, on the spot, planks barely creaking under his steps. A gentle wind ruffled his hair.

“There,” said Maddie. “By the ghost that’s registering red.”

It had taken Danny a long time to learn what color on the ectocam’s artificial sensor signified what, but he had, if only to reduce the guessing when they played this game.

“Star pearls,” said Danny, eyeing the ropes of stone that glimmered brighter than his eyes currently did. They were one of the only reliable forms of light, out on the Celestial Sea, although they were valued for other things, too.

“They’re putting out a massive amount of energy,” said Maddie.

“You mentioned them before,” said Jack. “You wanted to look for some?”

“On the shore,” said Danny. “Out past Astronomia.” He wanted to find his own, rather than buy them.

Partially because they were expensive. He didn’t really want to think about how much unmelting ice he’d have to conjure up to equal one of them. They were usually bartered in exchange for… more significant things.

The ghost by the pearls beckoned him closer, clearly hoping to make a sale. Danny shook his head, broadcasting regret and admiration for his wares. Speech might be faster but, under these circumstances, it would not be polite.

When Danny left, the social rules of Three Twilights would only leave the faintest impression on his mind. But, for now, they were a heavy, but not uncomfortable weight. One he could shrug off if necessary, but which was currently useful.

“What are they?” asked Maddie, as Danny turned away.

“They happen when big enough things fall into stars,” said Danny. “They’re all the memories of what they used to be… and the imagination of what they could become, when the star dies. Well, that’s what they’re supposed to be. I don’t think anyone really knows for sure.”

“And you can just… find these? Lying around?”

“Not… not really,” said Danny, slowly drifting towards a crow’s nest. “It’s like that one national park. That one where you can collect diamonds? You never really find anything good, but you can look.”

“I see,” said Maddie. “So, you don’t expect to find one?”

“Yes and no,” said Danny. “If I don’t expect to find one, I probably won’t. Unless the sea is feeling ironic, which it usually is, apparently. I mean, it’s an ocean and the stars. And prophecy is, like, ninety percent irony, but mostly for an outside observer. Which honestly makes sense, I think. An observer, not an Observant. Those are different things.”

The kind of silence on the other side of the line was the one that emerged when Danny used too much ghost logic.

“Anyway,” he continued as he scaled the crow’s nest and started traversing the glass ropes and chains to the all-but-invisible glass ships, “no, I don’t really expect to.”

The path to Astronomia was a staircase carved from moonstone harvested in October, when the moon was full and orange-red. It burned Danny’s eyes to look at and feet to walk upon. Like many ghosts who fixated on things like astronomy, he adapted quickly and thoroughly to the spiritual dark.

This darkest twilight was built of delicate bubbles, whorls, and arches of glass, any of which could cradle a ghost, all of which could be phased through with impunity. There were no true roads here, but certain places were easier to travel through. Addresses were carved in the glass in glimmering, holographic sigils made from glass-caught starlight that humans would never be able to read, but Danny could understand with a glance. It was not silent in Astronomia, the high wind sung through the glass like the immense instrument it was, playing ethereal and eternal music that mirrored heaven.

As always, Danny was enraptured. Perhaps the stars here were not true stars, only their memory and imagination (or simulacra made from stripped ghost cores, he remembered with a shudder), but he felt so close here.

“Danny? Are you still with us?”

Danny started to reply, but realized he had forgotten, once again, that he had no mouth here.

A phantabulist played a story for a group of not-quite-children, characters made of carefully constructed light chasing each other about with vigour. Danny stopped for a while to watch the story, a parable about spiders and fish. They were common here, storytellers who plied their craft this way. The stories could be pressed into glass prisms and orbs that served as books and viewed even in other environs of the Ghost Zone.

He moved on, passing through a glass bubble full of ghosts that snatched at and stroked him as he passed by, leaving stars and dark clouds to swirl across his skin. His suit had long since smoothed over and sunk in. His skin was a thin surface, a membrane holding in liquid night. He was like smoke, like vapour, thin and easily overlooked.

The places he passed were homes, places of business, warehouses, and hotels, organized without any apparent reason. A phantabularium glowed like a struck match, snatches of story visible inside its walls. He walked by.

Eventually, he reached the palace at the city center.

The ghost who lived there was old. Older, perhaps, than Pandora. She filled the vessels of her palace in placid pools connected by crystalized threads and looping tubes. Seven round-bottom flasks, radiating outward, like the spheres of heaven. The music here was almost deafening.

This was Urania, Muse of Astronomy. Astronomia was her city, and subordinate to her will before all else.

Danny resisted the urge to kneel. He was not here as a supplicant, and they both knew it.

The lowest pool bubbled, and slowly a glass prism, a dodecahedron, floated to the top. Danny took it with careful hands and left Urania’s direct presence as quickly as possible.

Being near her was always difficult. She was the Muse of Astronomy, and she felt he did not indulge his second Obsession as much as was proper.

Indeed, she thought it should be his first.

(The starlight inside him pulsed. He was never sure how much influence Urania could exert on him when he visited Three Twilights, never sure how much the relationship between his passions shifted when he was here. He loved it here too much to stay away forever.)

Astronomia did not end all at once. Instead, as one walked farther from the palace, the delicate, clear glass was replaced by black sand. When Danny had feet again, and could feel the grains beneath them, he knew he was no longer in Astronomia, but on the Shores of Night. The Isles of the Moon were faintly visible in the distance, sea-spray framing them in silvery halos.

He felt human here. His breath moved in his lungs, and his skin rose in goosebumps, the sleeves of his t-shirt fluttering in the wind. The sea and the sky were the same, and twice as beautiful for it.

“Sorry for going silent on you there,” said Danny. “I keep forgetting I don’t have a mouth there.”

“How do you forget that?” asked Jack.

“I don’t know.” Danny shrugged, even though he knew Jack couldn’t see him. “Do you think the ectocam might be able to spot buried star pearls?”

#danny phantom #ectoberhaunt 2021 #ectober 2021 #ectober #ectoberhaunt treat #danny totally ignoring objectively horribly things #worldbuilding

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geminixevans-stan · 3 years

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The Ghost

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Black Reader

Words: 2,254

Summary: Reader is on a business date when a blast from a toxic filled past shows up

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Explicit language, smut(Fingering, squirting if you squint, voyeurism)

A/N: I have just been on a disrespectful kick and who can do disrespect like our man Ransom. This came to me just out of nowhere and I wanted to write it because Ransom is just nasty and petty as hell. I hope you all like it! Reblog, Like, and Comment. Happy reading thots!

I do not consent to my work being copied, plagiarized, or translated in any way >:P

The mellow murmurs of the other guests could be heard as you sat across from the man you have been with for three years. You could see the nervousness in his demeanor as he checked his watch, adjusted his tie, and kept looking over his shoulder. His eyes were nowhere on you and it was getting annoying. You had to remind yourself that this wasn’t a date, something he hasn’t taken you on in months. This was only to meet with his boss who he wanted you to meet for whatever reason.

Getting tired of his fidgeting, you tried to give some type of reassurance, “Case, you look fine, babe. I’m sure your boss won’t be checking you out. Just relax,” you said reaching out to squeeze his hand.

He gave a smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he slipped his hand from under yours causing a small sting in your heart, “You just don’t get it, sweetness, my boss is very well dressed and I just want to make a good impression.” You didn’t understand just why he needed to make a fashion impression but there was part of you that didn’t care.

You looked out at the look of the restaurant admiring the ambiance of it. The restaurant was upscale, dimly lit, and decorated just right. There were couples on dates, groups who looked like they just got off of work, and a ghost that you thought that you would never see in a million years. His facial features were more chiseled, but the face, god that face, remained the exact same. But no one was with him.

His clothing choices had gotten better since your college days and it only added to how good he looked. Shifting in your seat, you looked over at Case as he stood up. Curiosity then confusion set upon your face as the ghost appeared to be inching closer to your table. No, no. He couldn’t be.

But as Case shook the hands of your college sweetheart, you knew that you were definitely in the twilight zone. He turned to you, full set of teeth on display as he began the introductions, “Mr. Drysdale, meet my lovely girlfriend, baby meet Mr. Drysdale. Oh, you knew that motherfucker. Ransom took off his shades, looking down at you as you could see the faintest smirk on his face.

Sticking his hand out over the table, he grasps yours in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “It’s very nice to finally meet you,” his voice still sounded like pure velvet and you couldn’t deny the electricity from feeling his lips on your skin again.

Your mouth suddenly became dry as you stared back at the man that once or still held your heart. Snapping out of your trance, you decided to respond, “I could say the same, Mr. Drysdale. Case couldn’t stop talking about you.”

He never broke eye contact with you as he spoke, “Well I am always on the tongue in more ways than one,” he smirked again knowing just what to say.

Smug bastard

With all the formalities out of the way, everyone took their seats. If seeing Ransom wasn’t enough, he had to sit right next to you. He threw you a smug look, his cologne lingering under your nose as he turned to Case who began having a conversation with him.

During the talk, Case decided to go to the bathroom, leaving both of you sitting at the table. Ransom felt like he just won the lottery and he was definitely going to make the best of it. He knew he had to get you back and that was exactly what he was going to do.

Ransom turns to you when you both are now alone, “That’s who you decided to be with? Why you with that asshat anyway?”

You shot him a look of disbelief as if he didn’t know or was too oblivious to the fact, “Well I wouldn’t be with him if you know, you would have taken us seriously. Instead, you wanted to fuck everything walking,” crossing your arms as his jaw clenched. It was no secret that he missed you. He wondered where he would be if he would have just been all about you. But young Ransom was a whore who cared only about himself.

But seeing the only girl that had his heart with someone else was just something he didn’t agree with, “Still doesn’t answer my question kitten,” that name. That fucking name. He knew what that name did to you and you let out a low whimper, hoping he didn’t hear it. But he definitely did because as soon as it was heard, he placed his finger under your chin, “Looks like some things don’t change. Still my kitten, baby?”

How bad you wanted to say “yes” was on the tip of your tongue. He was looking damn good and the ache in your core made you want him to ruin you. But the hurt in you wouldn’t let that happen. Moving slowly away from him, you dropped your head a little, “I would have been whatever you wanted me to be,” you didn’t expect all the hurt to come rushing back. But Ransom treated you as if he could have better. So, why on earth would he want you now?

“You still can be kitten, dump this fuck wad.” He placed his large calloused hand on the exposed skin of your thigh, rubbing small circles in one spot.

His touch, any touch really was something that you missed. Case hasn’t touched or even been affectionate with you in months. To have Ransom touching you was becoming more than you could bear. You tried to move his hand but you were no match for his strength, “Ransom, let go!” you spoke through clenched teeth.

Inching higher up, he dipped his hand under your dress, placing his lips to the shell of your ear, “Let’s play a game kitten,” he breathed as he pressed his lips to the spot behind your ear. He still knew your spots and it was maddening, “If my pussy isn’t soaked, then I’ll move. If she is, daddy isn’t moving any damn where.” Before you could retort, Case was coming back to the table, smiling at the both of you.

He sat down, fixing his suit jacket one more time, “I see you two are getting acquainted! Anything I missed?” He said raising his hand to signal the waiter to the table.

Ransom chuckled deeply, sliding his hands further up your dress, “Just getting to know your beautiful girlfriend over here. Quite the smart girl you have here,” But he knew you better than Case ever would. He knew you weren’t getting properly fucked let alone having orgasms. He could just tell by how responsive you’ve been without him even touching you.

Case beamed at the impression that you were giving Ransom. If only he really knew what was going on, “She’s amazing,” it took everything in you not to roll your eyes. That fucker didn’t know a damn thing and barely paid attention to you. As the waitress came to the table, you felt Ransom prod at your clothed mound, his fingers tracing over the wet material. Your body had betrayed you and he looked at you like he just won the grand prize.

You all had ordered drinks as Ransom rubbed soft circles on the soft fabric. He hated panties and would make sure you never wore them in college. He would soon rectify that after Case was out of the picture.

He pushed the soaked material to the side, playing with your exposed skin as you tried your hardest to sip your drink. Extracting his hand slightly, he tapped your inner thigh two times making you spread your legs wider. He slid back to your exposed lips, rubbing his fingers over your folds as you let out an inaudible sigh.

The conversation was taking way, ransom mindlessly playing with the wetness leaking from your aching hole. He was teasing you to no end and you were growing needier by the second. You wanted to feel him knuckle deep and all he wanted to do was toy with you.

You were barely paying attention to the conversation when you felt your entrance stretch and suck in his thick digit, inviting him back home. He stilled his finger inside of you, relishing in the warmth and wetness of you. He raised the cold glass to his lips and you clenched around him at the same time he took a sip.

He choked a little bit on the cold liquid as a small smirk formed on your lips. Case looked at him in concern, “You okay Mr. Drysdale?” Pressing into your seat, your hips rolled slowly letting his finger slide in deeper.

Ransom waved Case off to ease his worry, “All good, just the drink went down the wrong,” he pushed a second in your tight canal, you gripping your napkin tightly at the added intrusion, “pipe. Now where were we?” He wanted to let you know that he could play your game better than you and he always won.

He began to slide his fingers in and out of your sopping wet hole, sliding in deeper with each stroke. You tried keep a straight face through him playing your body like his favorite instrument and you were doing good until… He found the right spot. Only he knew how to find it and once he did. Oh, you were fucked. Curling his fingers at the spongy surface, he rubbed over that spot over and over, the heat dissipating all over your body as you tried your best to keep calm.

But your juices leaking over his fingers caused him to piston his fingers in with not give and he was taking all the advantage of it. You tried to clench your thighs, but he shot you an inconspicuous look that urged you not to fuck with him. Rocking secretly against his fingers, you could see him smirking while listening to whatever the fuck Case was talking about.

You grabbed your drink, bringing it back to your lips, preparing to take a sip when Ransom pressed his thumb to your overly sensitive clit, pressing into the center, “Oh fuck…” They both shot a look at you, amusement in Ransom’s face as Case was full of annoyance.

He looked at you like you just embarrassed him and you had to make a quick excuse, “I’m… so sorry. Babe this drink is so good.” Case clenched his fist still staring at you as Ransom let out a small chuckle.

“This place does have the best drinks. I’ve caught myself saying Oh fuck once or twice,” he said, strumming his thumb over your bundle of nerves, you downed the entire drink as Case resumed back to the conversation, looking completely ticked off. You bucked against the sensation making him withdraw from you as you already missed clenching around him. Squeezing your thigh tightly to stop your movements, he dove back in with the same movements.

Pulling your lip between the tightness of your teeth, you gripped the napkin once more, letting Ransom bring you closer to a well-deserved orgasm. Your juices leaking down his hand and you knew that this chair was about to be ruined. Your chest heaved up and down as his strokes and circles grew faster as you heard Case ask a question.

“So what do you think about that Mr. Drysdale?” Honestly, Ransom didn’t give a fuck about this conversation. The moment he laid his eyes on you, he knew he was going to take you home tonight and Case was far from his worries. He doubled down on his strokes as he drew quick circles, feeling you flutter around his fingers. He knew his kitten’s body after all this time and it was time to give her exactly what she needed.

Ransom placed the hand that hovered over the top of his lip on the table as he smirked deviously at Case, “Well, I only have one thing to say really,” he looked him dead in his eyes as the next words sent you over to an earth-shattering release, “Come kitten,” The tightness in your core finally snapped and you threw your head back as a silent cry erupted from your lips as you soaked His fingers and the seat beneath you.

He never stopped moving as your walls fluttered and clenched his thick digits, coating them in spurting cream. Case looked over at your blissfully fucked out face, then back and Ransom in complete shock. Ransom kept that same smirk, still staring at Case, “Good girl…” You began to come down from your high and before Case could say anything, the waitress showed up.

She smiled at the group as she placed the empty glasses on her tray, “Would you all like entrees or desserts?” Ransom pulled his fingers from your tight hole, not wanting to let him go as he withdrew with an audible squelching pop.

He put his fingers in the light as your creamy juices glistened against his skin, “Actually, I have my dessert right here,” darting his tongue out he slowly lick your sweet nectar from his fingers, placing them in his mouth to suck the rest completely off. Moaning at your taste, he pulled them from his mouth, directing his gaze to yours.

“Just as sweet as I remember kitten,”

Fuck…

#ransom drysdale daddy #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x black reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans characters

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dp-marvel94 · 3 years

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Metamorphosis

I had an idea about the blood blob ghosts thing that @floralflowerpower , @mokulule @kii0mi and others have been talking about. It's kinda cursed so I apologize in advanced. What if it was combined with @five-rivers 's womb room idea?

So bleeding, intentionally or unintentionally, can led to blob ghosts forming which is how ghosts reproduce. If there’s only one ghost, one ectoplasm source, then this is basically a form of asexual reproduction. But blob ghosts are the first step. At the beginning, they’re basically embryos or eggs. And most don’t make it past this first stage. They wander away from their parent or are abandoned. A lot of them get eaten, kinda like fish eggs that get eaten before they hatch. It’s not a huge deal (for ghosts that produce a lot of blob at least) because at least a few will survive.

I’d say that more applies to animal-like ghosts though. For humanoid ghosts, care and attention of a parent is very important. Most don’t make blobs on accident and carefully plan when and how many they will have. After the initial spawning, they’ll spend time with their small group of blobs. They’ll observe which ones are the strongest and most stable, which ones start gaining humanoid characteristics resembling the parents. These ones are the most likely to succeed in the next step.

Now, parental care after spawning will increase the chance that a blob will survive and the blob will start to resemble the parent. But blobs will not go from this embryo state to an actual baby ghost unless they are wombed. The parent will set up a room in their lair for the blob where they feed it and go through steps and rituals meant to trigger the metamorphosis from blob to infant. If it works, the parent will have a baby ghost (or two or three depending on how many blobs they started with). But this means that no ghost becomes a parent on accident.

Now the implications for Danny... so he starts with a gaggle of 15 or so blobs from a big battle when he’s 16 or so. He recognizes that they’re his. They came from his blood and he adopts them. They follow him around and Danny talks to and plays with them. He loves them very much and jokes about them being his kids but really...they’re more like pets. And that’s okay. That’s a natural reaction for a ghost at his level of development. He’s not ready to be a parent and won’t be for a while.

Now sadly, the group dwindles. Some wander away, back to the ghost zone. Some are eaten, even by their siblings. Danny’s parents even manage to catch one. That was a really bad day for everyone. Occasionally, a few are added to the group but as Danny gets better at fighting ghost, this happens less often. Danny ages and his group of blobs ages. With his attention, some of them gain human-like characteristics. One almost has Danny’s hair. One has a single tooth in its mouth. One has Danny’s eyes. It’s nice. Danny’s happy with the group and he loves them very much but...

Blob ghosts have a shelf life. Maybe a few months, maybe years. It’s longer the more powerful blood they come from but it’s been years for Danny and his blobs and... some of the older ones are less vibrate. The half ghost is horrified when one of them dissolves into a puddle of ectoplasm. He’s devastated and goes to Frostbite for advice, for a way to save them.

But the truth is, the group is reaching the end of their viability. It’s been almost ten years, impossibly long for blob ghosts. Danny is in his mid twenties and he knows...he knows what’s happening. Frostbite explained the ins and outs of ghost reproduction to him years ago, after his first group of blobs spawned. And now the yeti gives him an ultimatum. Danny can let them go. He can let nature take its course, allow his blobs to fade and disappear. Or... he can do what he must to save them. They must be matured. Danny has to womb them. The thoughts makes a knot form in the half ghost’s stomach.

Frostbite is understanding. This is a big decision, a monumental decision. If it works, Danny will not have blobs but children, his own children that he will have to raise. But the yeti is also stern. If this was any other being, he would think this hesitation was cruel. Ghost do not nurture their blobs, only to abandon them at the end of their viability. It would be cruel to do so, to put so much time, effort, and love into almost-children, only to deny them their true form and personhood and end their existence prematurely. But Danny is not cruel and the yeti knows he will make the right decision.

Danny goes home and talks about the decision with his significant other and the pair make a choice. The new day, Danny returns to the Ghost Zone. He gathers his ghostly guardians, Clockwork, Frostbite, and Pandora, and returns to his lair to prepare the nursey with the older ghost’s guidance. Once everything is ready, Danny and his partner bring the three remaining blobs. They set up the trio in the middle of the room, in something that’s the impossible mixture of an artificial womb and a crib. With the blobs in place, Danny begins. The air is thick with energy, humming with sound of his core. Everything is in order and the other ghosts leave. The half ghost stops the Master of Time.

“Clockwork....will they be...like me? Half ghosts?”

The blue skinned ghost just winks and leaves without a word.

Danny and his partner stay in the lair for weeks. He talks to the crib, sings to it. The half ghost puts his hands on the glass separating him from the forming cores and he pictures what his kids will look like. He waits, pouring himself into the process. He never strays far, even sleeping on a cot only feet away. The days drag on and on and Danny and his significant other are full of nerves, as the area inside the incubator swims with ectoplasm and hides the progress inside. The half ghost almost thinks it will never end, that he’ll never see the result of this metamorphosis from blob to infant ghost. Until he awakes to the sound of babies’ cries and a flash of white light.

#Danny Phantom #womb #cursed content #my post #my ficlet

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secretsivekept · 3 years

Text

OKAY SO

i didnt expect to go digging through all my old 14 year old art tonight but here we are, thanks @omegasmileyface for reminding me of it, i had fun revisiting this AU.

At first i was only gonna show a couple pictures but i forgot the LORE i made for this Astro Boy X Danny Phantom crossover LMAO

FULL RANT UNDER THE CUT TO SAVE Y'ALL'S TIMELINES IF YOU WANNA SKIP THIS LOL

Okay so.

2012.

Originally the crossover was (and remains to be) with the Astro Boy 2009 movie. Astro's dad builds a ghost portal i think, but when Astro goes through it his blue core got kind of infected with Ectoplasm allowing his robotic body to retain a ghostly nature. Essentially i made Astro a halfa without thinking of what on earth the implications of a half robot half GHOST could even be but yk i was 14 i didnt think that far ahead. More on the Ectoplasm/Blue Core stuff later, though.

((Side note: I don't recall how exactly Astro ended up from the future to Danny's time, knowing my 14 year old self it was probably something super convoluted involving natural time portals i think?? BUT basically i think Astro gets stuck in the past so that's how. uh he and danny meet and Danny helps him with his new ghost powers))

ANYWAY

I did a few conceptual ideas of what his 'ghost half' could look like, and for some reason i really liked the idea of his outfit being purple and green, like 2 opposite colors (though one sketch i did explore was basically a DP ripoff).

Also i gave him a white stripe on his hair for his ghost half.

Anywho this was what i decided to go with.

You may notice he's got one green eye and one purple eye. That was me trying to show he's got 2 halves, the blue core and the ecto-nature. ((why is it purple, tho??)

WELL LET ME TELL U SOME LORE I MADE UP THEN

I came up with this concept/ghostly element called Black Fire. Basically, when the blue core energy and ectoplasm mixed together, it created a very powerful element called Black Fire ((also i think i made up that ectoplasm had small amounts of red core in it?? it doesn't matter really tho lol))

ESSENTIALLY Black Fire is a very chaotic element that only wants to consume things, which Astro has a very hard time controlling.

Oh yeah and it can take over his mind at some points - again, due to the chaotic nature of the black fire, all it wants is to consume. And this is POWERFUL stuff.

This unfortunately gathers the attention of some elder ghost dudes, ((and i don't... exactly recall if i made them up or if they actually WERE from the Pariah Dark episode its been too long since ive seen that, but if I didn't make them up they're the ones that sealed Pariah Dark in that coffin thing)) but essentially they're like:

"Oh shit this well meaning kid is wielding one of the most deadly elements in the ghost zone, we have to seal him away just like we did Pariah Dark, otherwise the Black Fire will literally take over his mind".

Which i literally made a comic about but i won't be posting all of that in here LOLOL, it is wayyyyyy too cringy, but I'll post a few highlights.

I ALSO found a SYNOPSIS for the little comic i wrote which I will now transcribe:

Astro has been constantly possessed by an evil power- Black Fire - and it is slowly taking over his mind and body like it did Pariah Dark. The Keepers are now placing Astro in a sleeping prison like they did for Pariah, but as it turned out it was the greatest mistake they ever made... for sleep makes the body unprotected, and Black Fire can fully consume the person or ghost it resides in [uninhibited.]

In this first picture, you see how he has one red eye? CUZ MY 14 YEAR EDGY SELF WAS LIKE "OH WHAT IF HE DIES CUZ VLAD KILLS HIM AND THATS LIKE LITERALLY WHERE THE DEATHBLOW STRUCK HIM"

ANYWAY

So i'm not sure what happens next between this instance and the next part of the au, or if I scrapped this part and then changed things around BUT -

this Au can be promptly divided into 2 parts, the first part where Astro is a Halfa, and the second part where he becomes a full on Ghost.

O look costume change, now he has a full on cloak instead of a hoodie

And you see how he has one red eye? YEAH THAT'S CUZ MY 14 YEAR EDGY SELF WAS LIKE "OH WHAT IF HE DIES CUZ VLAD KILLS HIM AND THATS LIKE LITERALLY WHERE THE DEATHBLOW STRUCK HIM"

Essentially the idea that as he becomes a full on 'ghost', the black fire energy is now tamed/more controllable because it is a part of his being as he was reborn, and not something that affected him.

however he is now the first ghost to ever be born with "Black Fire" (something that before always grew inside and consumed ghosts or people) so he is put into the care of Clockwork to help figure out and be properly taught how to control such a powerful ability.

14 year old me was WILD man

ok im at my picture limit so im gonna follow up with another reblog i think or maybe another post idk cuz i got a few more things i wanna show

#OLD ART #LIKE SERIOUSLY OLD ART #astro boy x Danny phantom crossover

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dreamwraith · 3 years

Text

@floralflowerpower mentioned wanting to read an idea I had, soooo....

Alright, this is largely inspired by the M*A*S*H episode “Who Knew?” It’s a very bittersweet episode. It begins with the news that a nurse died the previous night when she wandered into a minefield. One of the main characters, Hawkeye, was the last one to see her alive. He offers to write her eulogy when no one else steps forward, though he barely knew her himself. He’s stymied by how little anyone can tell him about her, until the priest suggests he reads her diary. He learns who she was through her own words, the person she had hidden beneath a shy exterior that others interpreted as standoffish. She had true feelings for Hawkeye and he never knew. The last entry is how she can’t get Hawkeye out of her thoughts so she’s going to go for a walk.

As you might guess, my idea starts off with a bittersweet tale.

Jack and Maddie got the portal working without Danny needing to die, and for two years, Amity Park has been under threat from whatever ghost chooses to try their hand at conquering them. Jack and Maddie are the town’s main defense without Danny Phantom to protect them, and they’re not as skilled or as prompt as canon Danny was at catching ghosts. Sometimes a ghost slips through. Sometimes, people get hurt.

I don’t have the full details worked out, but in this case, a ghost attacked the school. Danny is almost killed. He’s the son of the town’s defenders, so perhaps he’s an easy, desirable target. One of his classmates saves him by sacrificing himself. He (I’ve been going with the name Alexander in my notes) later dies at the hospital, and Danny, suffering from survivor’s guilt and PTSD, blames himself. He didn’t know his classmate very well, he doesn’t even remember his name right away, he doesn’t understand why Alex saved him.

He tries to find out more about him, feeling like he owes him that much, but he discovers only superficial information. Alex was a foster of Amity Park; he had no family. No one but Danny is currently mourning him. He’s determined to get answers, though, and that causes him to clash with Dash and teachers when they say things like “Alex was a creep” or “he was a troublemaker; I heard he ran away from his last home.” Danny’s fights get him brought to Lancer’s attention, and it’s during that meeting that Danny is given Alex’s diary.

Eager but frightened, it takes Danny a long time to work up the courage to begin reading.

Meanwhile, “Phantom” begins to form in the Ghost Zone.

Alex hated himself enough that his self-image is dismissed from his spirit, and his last thoughts were of Danny, so when he forms, he takes on a ghostly impression of Danny. It’s an important detail because that’s what makes this pitch pearl, and it’s why Danny doesn’t recognize him.

He doesn’t have a clearly defined obsession, but he definitely feels a pull toward the human world. Johnny and Kitty help Phantom cross the portal, and that’s when he meets Danny for the first time. Idk why Danny came down to the lab yet, but I know he’s up because of PTSD nightmares/insomnia. Phantom feels his whole being focus on Danny, Danny freezes in place because he had just woken up from a nightmare of a ghost attack, and Johnny and Kitty look between Danny and Phantom, putting two and two together and reaching “Phantom’s purpose”

The three ghosts make a quick escape once protective parents Jack and Maddie come storming down the stairs, but first impressions were made, and now Phantom is determined to find out more about Danny and why his soul is crying out for him.

Unfortunately, Danny is entangled in Alex’s diary and his own grief. Every effort Phantom makes toward befriending Danny is rebuffed because 1) ghosts can’t be trusted, and 2) Phantom’s resemblance to Danny combined with his interest in him is fucking creepy. In his downward spiral, though, Danny is losing connection with his friends, his grades, his safety, and Phantom isn’t willing to let Danny fade like this. Circumstances change when Phantom saves Danny from a human threat (human crime, let’s goooo) and Danny starts to actually pay attention to him, enough to start letting down his walls at least.

And just in time for Danny to reach the point in the diary where Alex confesses he had a crush on Danny. Danny’s grief finally breaks, and Phantom comforts him through the loss. Phantom learns about Alex and Danny’s growing feelings for a boy that’s no longer within reach, and reluctantly pushes his own growing feelings for Danny aside. Danny is going through too much to deal with Phantom’s own failings. He needs time to mourn.

A real friendship starts to build.

With his feelings for Danny on hold but satisfied by their friendship, Phantom begins to explore who he is. He begins to take on a protector role, determined to save other humans from feeling the grief Danny is under. He focuses less on fighting and more on saving. A ghost will attack, and he’ll erect a shield around humans to deflect debris or catch someone who is falling or just comfort someone who got hurt. Jack and Maddie are still the ones that ultimately defeat the ghost, but Phantom’s actions begin to catch everyone’s attention.

He is exactly what they needed, and he begins to be hailed as a guardian.

Danny is happy for him, but something about Phantom’s focus with protection over fighting resonates with Alex’s thoughts in his diary. He begins piecing things together. He proposes his wild idea to Jazz one night, but she warns him not to try to “bring Alex back from the dead” for Danny’s own mental health.

Danny proposes the idea to Phantom, and at first Phantom thinks it’s nonsense, but Danny insists Phantom read the diary, so Phantom reluctantly (tho he doesn’t understand why he’s so reluctant) humors him. He can only get through five entries before he shoves the diary back into Danny’s hands and refuses to read anymore.

His self-hatred caused him to lose his identity in death, remember? He doesn’t want to remember, it’s painful. He tells Danny to forget about Alex. No one cared about him when he was alive, they won’t care who he was now. But Danny cares, and it tugs at Phantom’s feelings to meet Danny halfway, but does Danny like him because of Alex or because of Phantom, the person he is now?

I don’t have the full details worked out, but I know I want Danny to reveal Phantom’s past as Alex to Amity Park so that they can see their foster son has grown into their defender, savior, protector. He wasn’t loved when he was alive, but they must honor his past because it made him the hero he is now. Amity Park goes wild for the story. They love Phantom all the more, knowing who he was, how he died, and who he became.

A bittersweet beginning becoming an uplifting, hopeful note, maybe?

That’s all I have planned :P

I haven’t written anything for it yet because I haven’t figured out how to start. I’m terrible at action scenes, and I feel like I have to describe at least PART of Alex’s sacrifice. But ugh, ghost attack, ugh. Choreography, description, pacing, urgh, I hate action scenes, how do you guys WRITE those, it’s witchcraft I swear

(Side note for the name, Alexander means “defender of men”)

(And because I’m classy as a unripe grape, the story is titled Right Here (Departed) in my folder, which is actually a song by Brandy oiasjdlkfej I song titled it. omg. But listen, listen...it fits)

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #pitch pearl #floralflowerpower #Danny and Phantom as different people

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bcdwhcre · 4 years

Note

may i request? one where levi and reader has suddenly parted ways leaving both of them heartbroken. fast forward to a few mos later, reader has moved w/ a new partner (but is still very much in love with levi) and then one day, both of them unintentionally crossed paths again (now as exes) levi reminisces their past and concludes that he still has feelings for reader. the ending is up to you tho! i love ur writing lol i’m rlly obsessed ❤️

“Reunited,” Levi x Reader

Summary: After you and Levi’s brutal breakup, you move on. Randomly, you two run into each other and ‘catch up’ but Levi confesses that he still loves you.

Warnings: none

“I want you gone, I don’t want you here anymore!” You screamed at Levi, shoving your hands into his chest as you tried to push him away from you.

“Then fucking leave? No one is stopping you, Y/N.” Levi stood his ground, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave you a cold stare.

“You’re such a dick and you wonder why no one ever sticks around long enough.” You let it slip up, the painful words had crushed his heart in seconds.

“Yeah? Now I can see why you were alone in the first place.” He said, it was like venom from a snake bite- toxic.

“I hate you.” You mumbled, the tears running down your face didnt phase Levi- not anymore.

You two were having a full screaming match in his office, you were positive the scouts down the hall heard the full thing but it didn’t matter- the anger boiling inside of you made you not think of anyone else.

“Glad we both feel the same.”

His words hit you like a truck, even though your words were just as bad- you said them because Levi pushed you to that point. That’s all he did was push and push until you have a reaction.

This time you were done.

It had been months since you last seen Levi, you were heartbroken and long nights you cried and cried, hoping he would suck up his pride and ego to apologize to you but it never happened.

You quickly jumped into another relationship, hoping this would make you forget about Levi but it never worked. Every time your partner would kiss you or try to touch you, all you thought about was him and the way he made you feel.

It was painful. Extremely painful.

You tried to suck it up, hoping it would get better but as of now- it hasn’t and you’re having a hard time dealing with that.

Levi, on the other hand, has been distracted with the scouts but once his head hits the pillow late at night, his thoughts are always directed to you.

He wish he could see you, he wish he could hold you again but he felt like a burden, he felt like you were better off without him so he stayed away.

But one random day, he had went into the town after coming back from a expedition. He had separated from the group, going straight to the bar because even though he wasn’t a drinker, he needed something to make him forget.

His uniform was still on, the pained look on his face didn’t begin to describe how he felt on the inside. It was getting too much to handle, he felt like he needed these drinks.

Until he caught a quick glimpse of your face, his heart stopping as his feet froze on the concrete. The smile you had on made his heart race and he didn’t realize his feet were moving towards you until you both made eye contact and your smile fell.

“Levi,” You said, looking over at him and your partner stood behind you protectively as they stared down Levi.

“So this is the famous Levi.” They mumbled, making you turn around to face your partner.

“You can go on ahead, I’ll be fine.” You tried to get them to leave because frankly, you didn’t want them there.

Your partner had kissed your cheek on purpose, eyeing Levi as they left and he looked at you like he had seen a ghost. You moved on and Levi wanted to rip everyone apart to feel something other than the pain weighing on his chest.

You both stood in silence, you didn’t know what to say or what to do but you didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want this to be the last time you saw him. He gestured you to follow him inside the bar he was planning on going inside and you did, not a word has been spoken yet.

As the two of you sat down, Levi settling with whiskey and you just settled with a coffee- it was quiet and awkward. The tension was thick and you looked around the room to avoid eye contact.

“I didn’t know you found someone else.” He finally spoke, the sarcasm on his tongue was lingering and you can sense that he thought of your partner as a joke.

“Oh- yeah, three months.”

He gave you a wide eyed look, three months? He thought to himself. You two have only been broken up around five or six months and you were that quick to jump with someone else. It had shattered his heart more if that was even possible, laughing under his breath before downing his drink completely then asking for another.

“Levi,”

“So, did you not love me? Was our relationship a joke?” He cut you off, leaning forward against the table with a look of amusement on his face.

“Not at all, our relationship was everything to me.” You admitted, watching his eyes roll and he took another breath, trying to clam himself.

He didn’t want to argue with you, no, that’s not why he made you follow him in this lonely bar. In fact, he wanted to desperately kiss you, hug you. Shit, he wanted to drag you home and show you how much he missed you but when he saw your partner, his temper had taken over- along with his sadness.

“Y/N, I’m going to be honest with you.” He started off, looking into your eyes and it had made his heart skip a beat.

Suddenly his emotions had taken over, the flashbacks flooding his mind like they were yesterday. The first one he thought of was the time you two were in bed, he was trying to read a book and you were trying to get his attention. The way you would nudge him, purposely pull his eyes away from the book in his hands to look at you fully, the way your laugh would echo in his bedroom- he missed it.

Then the flashbacks of you taking care of him after expeditions, making sure to bandage his wounds and comfort him afterwards, making sure you reminded him how special he was and how grateful you were to have him.

It made him want to cry in your arms right now but he sat there. He made sure he kept himself well put together because he didn’t want to make you worry or hurt you in any way.

He didn’t realize how zoned out he was, the thoughts of you flooding his mind and the memories he shared with you- they were amazing and he couldn’t help but miss it.

“Levi?” You questioned, watching him stare down at the glass in front of him and soon he snapped out of it, looking up at you.

The jealousy he felt, the way your partner kissed your cheek like you were theirs. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to desperately take you away from here. All these emotions overpowering him, he wanted to explode.

“Fuck it.” He said breathless, making you raise an eyebrow before he practically climbed over the small table, cupping your cheeks and smashing his lips on yours.

You were caught off guard, the sudden kiss almost made you throw yourself back but you remained in place. The long nights you would think about this, this moment. The dreams you would have of Levi kissing you, it was all coming to life.

Your shaky hands grabbed onto his wrists, keeping him in place before you completely leaned in and moved your lips in sync with his. You still got the same feeling every time he would kiss you, fireworks. Every kiss and touch all made you feel the same spark you were feeling now.

Levi was so desperate to keep this going, he never wanted to lose you again, he was even too scared to let go but he pulled back, his face inches away as he stared deep into your eyes, taking in the moment incase it gets ripped away.

“I would say I’m sorry but I’m not... I still love you, come home, please..” Was all he said, his eyes had a sparkle of hope in them, hoping you would ditch your new pathetic partner and come back with him.

The amount of love you still had for Levi was more than enough for you to nod your head, making him drag you out the door and down through the town to go back to his place. He would turn back to look at you, the smile on his face had made your heart flutter with happiness.

“Levi, wait.” You stopped him right as you both stood outside of his place and he gave you a look of concern, afraid you’ll run off again.

“I never stopped loving you, I just want you to know that. Everyday only got harder without you next to me.” You admitted, making his hand squeeze onto yours and he embraced you in a tight hug.

Your face was nuzzled in his shoulder, the tears stinging your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him. The overwhelming feeling that washed over your body made you cry a bit, you were finally happy and content. You didn’t realize you missed Levi this much until he touched you.

“God, I love you.”

This ended up really cute. It made me soft🥺

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

#levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman imagines #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman headcanons #levi Ackerman #levi x reader #levi imagines #levi imagine #levi fanfic #levi headcanons #aot headcanons #aot imagines

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noctilucid · 3 years

Text

DannyMay Day 5: Doorway

"Are you guys seeing this?" Danny's voice sparked through the background distortion of their Fenton Phones.

"What is it?" Sam craned her head in his direction, but her driver's ed training refused to let her release the steering wheel of the Specter Speeder. Across the seat from her, Tucker shifted to lean against the window.

"Not from here dude," he replied. "What's up with those doors?"

"They've got a plaque between them. Seriously, you've gotta see this. I think the island's big enough to land on."

Tucker looked back at Sam, and they exchanged a shrug.

"You heard the man. Adventure calls!"

Sam circled around to approach the tiny landing ground, chewing her bottom lip as she delicately maneuvered to set them down on the slab of rock which was barely larger than the Speeder itself. When she felt the landing gear dig its retractable claws into the stone, sending vibrations through the carriage, she un-tensed and remembered to breathe, smiling to herself. She'd gotten good at this; there was no way she wasn't passing her driver's test come April.

She popped her door open, Tucker scrambling out behind her, and they shuffled sideways along the available ledge to where Danny was hovering in front of the two doors mounted at the edge of the bare island. A plaque floated between them, carved in dark wood.

"Woah." Sam traced a finger over the florid raised border. There was an embossed image of a woman in a long dress and a snarling tiger, with text below.

"What?" Tucker squeezed in behind her. She scooted a little further down to make room for him, Danny floating up above the two of them.

"Can you believe it?" Danny asked, looking down on them with a lopsided grin, wide enough to border on manic.

"The Lady or the Tiger," Sam read. "In instances of unknown guilt, the accused shall select one door of the twain to receive justice."

"Wait, like that short story we just had to read?" Tucker pulled out his PDA and tapped something in. "Stockton, 1882."

"Do you think I could get extra credit if I took a picture of it?" Danny's grin stretched a little farther and became a little toothier. Ghost mouths had a tendency to do such things.

"So he based his short story on a place in the Ghost Zone?" Tucker mused.

"Or the story became so popular that it manifested out of the ether," Sam said. "I mean, it was influential enough that it's become a figure of speech."

Danny tipped over so that he was floating upside-down. "So would you say that ‘The Lady or the Tiger’ could be a chicken or egg scenario?"

Tucker groaned. "God, Danny."

"No, no," Sam said, "this is an improvement. His puns are getting cleverer over time."

"There's also a third option," Danny added. "Stockton became a ghost and his lair pays homage to his most memorable achievement." Sam considered it and nodded.

Tucker snapped a photo and saved it. "Well, if you're getting extra credit, so are we. I had to rewrite my last paper after Cujo drooled on my first draft."

"Sorry," Danny said, righting himself. Tucker waved him off.

"Not your fault. But blaming you makes me feel better." Sam snorted and knocked shoulders with him. Danny stole his beret and shoved it on his own head.

"So… you wanna open the doors and see what's behind them?" Danny asked, sinking down between them.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Sam said. "I prefer to avoid situations where I might get eaten."

"Tuck?" Danny flopped his head on Tucker's shoulder. Tucker took the opportunity to grab his hat back. "There might be a pretty lady."

"I thought we weren't expanding this trio without a full consensus."

Danny reeled back in fake shock. Sam slung an arm around Danny’s shoulders. "He's matured so much!" she joked.

"Hey," Tucker put a hand over his heart. "I'm a family man."

"Fine, we'll leave the doors unopened. We'll never know the answer to the mystery that has haunted the past two centuries. If you guys are cool with that."

"And how are we supposed to finish our mission before school on Monday if you get mauled by a tiger?" Sam gestured Tucker back towards the Speeder door, following in his wake.

"I can put a beacon on the island if you want to come back," Tucker suggested. "We could try to trick Walker into opening one."

"Ooooo, yes please." Danny floated up over the Speeder pod as Tucker climbed in and dug something out of his backpack. He handed it out to Sam, who kneeled at the edge of the island and pressed the device into a crag on the underside. She brushed off her hands as she stood up.

"Alright, no more distractions. We've got a book to return."

#dannymay2021 #phanniemay2021 #Danny Phantom #Sam Manson #Tucker Foley #Everlasting Trio #QPPs are a hill I will die on #my writing #drabble

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gisachi · 3 years

Note

Hi ^^ I know that your requests are now closed but I was thinking that, given you have written jealous Shinichi, I would very much enjoy some jealous Ran! Maybe you can mix it with one of the prompts? Just throwing the idea out there, no pressure. Delete this if you don't feel like it, it's okay really. Thank you for writing these amazing fics, the shinran fandom is in your debt. ❤️

So this is the last (!!!) and longest (!!!) of the kiss prompts, and I dedicate it to multiple-requests Anon and to this Anon. I hope both of you still see this. It took me a while. ^^;;

P.S. Special thanks to @artycreaty for keeping this in check. You are awesome. 🥰

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella. 46. A lingering kiss before a long trip apart. (6,489 words)

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She has hundreds of reasons not to. They’re merely childhood best friends. Life would be much easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven. Shinichi absolutely doesn’t look at her that way. And so forth.

She wonders why they’re even friends in the first place. If their parents hadn’t enrolled them in the same kindergarten, she was certain they wouldn’t even be on speaking terms. He lives in a world of grisly books and crimes, she in a world of martial and visual arts. Their hobbies don’t overlap. They excel in different fields. They enter the same university with completely unrelated majors. The only bond they have in common is their shared history. Literally bonded since they were four, until now at nineteen.

So when she sees him all jolly around his newfound circle who hold the same interest in Holmes or detective work, it shouldn’t surprise her as much. It’s part of university life, it’s normal, they expand their horizons, and Ran understands that it hits much differently when they bond with people who like the same stuff they do. Something she’s aware they cannot share a hundred percent.

She’s proud of him, and she absolutely has no right to feel jealous, especially when she sees him around taller, prettier, more interesting women from his course block. There is no reason for her to look away with a heavy weight in her chest everytime the women get giggly and touchy while he’s absorbed in narrating his stories.

Everytime she does, she reminds herself of how he didn’t seem to mind when she was casted as the protagonist of their high school play and the leading man was the handsome Araide-sensei. Or how he simply shrugged when she fawned over the brother of a classmate because he looked so much like the karate senpai she was crushing on. Or when she secretly caught Sonoko dragging the detective behind gym after P.E. to confront him about his opinion regarding an upperclassman courting Ran and his only response was, ‘She can like whoever she likes, Sonoko. I’m not her boyfriend.’

He never showed her any sign of jealousy, therefore he must not be into her. Simple as that. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him differently. Getting snarky just because he received sixteen new fan mails again, more now that they’re in uni, and two even coming from the popular criminology seniors he is often teased to? Or ignoring him unprecedentedly just because his eyes followed the back of a woman with long chestnut hair and voluptuous curves? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s bound to be attracted to someone else. This is a pill she ought to learn to swallow eventually.

Eventually.

“Shinichi-kun, you never told us about your scariest case yet, tell us about it?”

Kaori closes her notes and so do the other two girls across her, and Shinichi’s eyes twinkle. He truly seems to enjoy study sessions with the little group they made consisting of some of his and Ran’s coursemates because they love listening to his stories.

“At the top of my head is this murderer disguised as a bandaged man, and he targeted us one by one…” and so the detective drones. Ran pauses typing and reminisces quietly. Ah, that one from summer three years ago. I was almost injured by that crazy man during my sleep but Shinichi woke me up in time.

“Ran-san,” Shun, her friend and coursemate, mutters beside her, also stopping his typing to listen to the detective’s story. “It’s ridiculous how popular Kudou-kun is with the girls. He’s full of wild adventures.”

“Yes, he is,” Ran says, smiling. “He’s been a girl magnet ever since high school.”

She watches as Kaori inches closer to Shinichi, listening attentively, chin on her palm and flirtatious smile on her lips as the detective rants on and on.

For the third time that afternoon, Ran looks away.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She does, everyday, but it’s hard when he smiles at her, cares for her, holds her in a way she’s never seen him do for anyone else. It gives her hope every time the girls cling to him but he never touches them back, whereas he automatically slings his arm over her shoulder because she’s afraid or cold or he simply feels like it.

Then again, maybe she’s giving herself too much credit. Perhaps it’s a free pass for being around him for too long. She even gets to spend time with him during weekends and holidays. It isn’t special because it’s normal.

And that’s all she’ll ever be, a normal girl in his eyes.

“Ran? She’s pretty special.”

Ran reacts to the mention of her name and catches Shinichi looking at her. “She appears quiet but she can kick anyone’s ass without breaking a sweat. It’s bad if you cross her,” Shinichi gloats with a grin.

“Oh my god, really? We can bring her with us then!” Kaori claps her hands in excitement.

“Ah... But she won’t like that,” he follows up, wary. Ran has missed the topic they were talking about and now she’s curious.

“But ghosts aren’t real and Mouri-san can give them a good beating!”

“Gh-Ghosts?” The color in her cheeks drains, eyes freezing at Shinichi who has probably already expected that reaction, for he sports that same look of concern as those times he had expressed whenever she joined him in his way-past-bedtime elementary school adventures.

“We’ll investigate an abandoned house I always pass by walking home,” Kaori explains. “Last night I saw a faint cigarette light at the second floor window. It might be a fugitive or a homeless person or a ghost, who knows?”

“You don’t need to come if you don’t want to, Ran,” Shinichi assures.

Gulping, Ran contemplates whether going with them will do her any good. It’s a nice change, it’s been a while since she last tagged with Shinichi in his cases. But she isn’t exactly proud of shrieking like a little kid in front of serious criminology majors who may feel like she’ll drag their covert investigation down if she joins.

“...I’ll pass,” she answers meekly, and his coursemates sulk except Shinichi, who offers her a smile of understanding.

“Man, I thought we’ll be able to see Mouri-san in action!”

“That’s ok, maybe next time. We still have Shinichi-kun!”

“Shinichi-kun will protect us, ne?”

“Hah. Right. Invite Hakuba too, use him.”

“Oh c’mooon, Shinichi-kun!”

Ran closes her eyes, struggling to zone their voices out.

In her silence, Ran ponders if she has made a wrong choice.

Ran has no right to be jealous. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him this way.

The following weekend, Shinichi narrates what happened in their late-night investigation. Hakuba wasn’t there so Shinichi was the only available guy as usual. Ran refuses to hear any more details, both of the haunted house and secretly of the girls chancing onto him during the investigation. Shinichi is puzzled.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Nah, just swamped with work.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to assist?”

“No.”

Her replies are curt from the couch of his house, not looking at Shinichi on the other end as she mindlessly cleans up her digital sketches. She hates how snappy she sounds but her brain is too absorbed with conjuring spiteful imaginations to even think of masking her annoyance.

“Ran, hey. Look at me.”

His low voice freezes her from drawing, and she slowly looks up to meet Shinichi’s serious eyes.

When this happens, she knows he’s reading her. She inwardly chants a prayer because now isn’t a good time. Whatever time isn’t a good time. She doesn’t know what to say when she’s aware everything she’s been feeling is irrational and unfair. She’s being selfish.

“You’re… stressed.”

“No, I’m… Eh?”

He scoots closer, an arm’s length away. “Your dark circles are more prominent now, you need a break.” His eyes turn a soft blue. “Let’s have dinner out? My treat.”

Ran is surprised, to say the least. The last time he invited her out was two weeks ago. She’s become so used to seeing him around others that any initiative from him sounds too good to be true.

“But I need to finish this project by tonight.”

“Let’s have food delivery then!” Shinichi announces, not rattled by Ran’s indirect refusal. “I know exactly what you want. Ramen and shaved ice.”

Her eyes thin at the absurdly goofy expression she knows he makes when he’s being mischievous. “Clearly you’re ordering that ramen for yourself. I only like shaved ice.”

“Damn! Miss Detective gets it.” A mile-wide grin stretches across his face, earning an eye roll from the half-smiling woman. “Let’s eat together on your short break, please?”

He leans within a respectful distance and she sees his smile better, pair of kind eyes locking with her overworked ones. “It’s been a while.”

Her heart throbs for him. So much.

She caves - of course she does - and breathes her acquiescence.

After two long weeks, they have dinner together, just them and Shinichi’s ramen and Ran’s donburi and shaved ice, Shinichi taking a spoonful of dessert from the cup when she isn’t looking and Ran snatching a slurp from his take-out bowl and laughing when he catches her.

With how heartfelt his laughter is in her presence devoid of any mysteries, Ran knows she’s probably giving herself too much credit, but for once she wants to believe she is the cause of why Shinichi’s happy.

Just for that night, she gives it to herself.

She’ll change the dark colors of her digital artwork to brighter ones after they eat.

Despite everything, Ran finds it difficult to contain her recurring jealousy.

The more she shares precious time with him, the more it gets harder to suppress the selfish emotions. What is so unsatisfying about being the best friend is that she is only the best friend. No more no less. At the end of the day, she isn’t the one he gets to cuddle with, to tease then kiss, to tell ‘I love you’ to, romantically.

“I love you.”

Ran feels her heart about to leap out of her chest.

“But please. Stop. Tearing. The. Cushions!”

The little furball he has scooped underneath a throw pillow wiggle from his grasp. The kitten and detective engage in a brief staring showdown before it jumps away to hide under a farther couch.

Snapping out of reverie, Ran watches her childhood friend slink dejectedly onto the partly scratched furniture. He’s fortunate enough that his mother isn’t around to give him a long lecture on Why Pets Aren’t Allowed in the House 101. She can always take Yukiko-san’s role and reprimand him for it, but as for this and the cat, she finds herself not wanting to intervene.

“Kaori-san sure is taking her time with her parent’s permission. By the time she does, Momo would’ve shredded all the pillows in this house.”

“You named the cat?” Ran asks, amused.

“She did.” He thinks for a moment, then sniggers. “Actually I did. I suggested a random name. She took it.”

Ran merely hums. What can she say? They’re getting close. Close enough to team up as parents to an adopted kitten.

“I’m surprised you also agreed to keep Momo when you never took in animals before.”

“Kaori said she’ll treat me to the latest Detective Samonji movie this weekend if I do. Can’t resist that.”

“Just you two?”

“Yeah.”

A beat. Then he turns to her.

“Wanna join? I can ask her to count you in since you’re kinda helpi—”

“N-no need,” Ran quips, “It’s—It’s fine.”

“No really,” Shinichi insists, “Kaori-san has a lot of money, she—”

“I’m going to Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum with Shun-san this weekend... so... I can’t.”

“Ah.”

Silence.

“It’s, um, for a project,” she bolsters.

“I know.” The faintest smile graces his lips. “It’s your thing. Both of you.”

“Mm.”

He doesn’t say anything else after that.

“Shinichi, you’re a detective, right?” she blurts out of the blue.

“Yeah...and?”

Then deduce what I feel. Here and now.

“Then you’re going to enjoy that movie!” Ran forces a beam, giving Shinichi a thumb of approval. “And you can discuss it with Kaori-san over dinner. I’m sure you two have a lot to say about it.”

Shinichi’s eyes linger on her, reading her like a book, and Ran has her mind reeling again, afraid to be read.

“Yeah, we do,” he finally says, ending the conversation.

Only a few words are uttered the rest of the afternoon.

Momo resurfaces and curls beside Shinichi.

Momo’s purring is loud, but Ran’s shattering heart is louder.

Ran must not feel jealous. She is not a girlfriend.

Because she isn’t a girlfriend, he’s free to fall for and date anyone else. Who is she to gatekeep him? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s one big catch. Ran believes she’s a big catch, too. With the way she loves dearly, her future boyfriend is going to be very lucky.

Her future boyfriend is not going to be him.

“...mber the required fieldwork in one of my majors I told you? We actually go by batches. The first batch did theirs last month. The second batch was last week… and I— Ran, are you listening?”

“Ah! Yes,” Ran notices they have already reached her station and are now walking two blocks to her apartment. “Your fieldwork, right?”

“...Yeah,” he carries on. “I’m in the last batch... This whole winter break.”

“I see, I understand.” She smiles, getting what he means. No Christmas or New Year’s Eve together. The first time since they’re four. It’s fine, honestly. If it’s a required activity, then there’s really no way to go about it. She isn’t going to lash out just because she can’t be with him in her most favorite time of the year.

“And Hattori-kun and Hakuba-kun will be with you?”

“Hattori did his last month. Hakuba is in the previous batch. I’ll be stuck with the girls.”

Ran’s heart momentarily squeezes. “Where will your fieldwork be?”

“In Akita.”

Her pupils constrict. “That far?”

“Yes... so to cut on expenses, Kaori-san offered her house for me and the others to stay while we’re there—”

Kaori. Again with the tall, beautiful, intelligent Kaori. She bets it’s amazing to spend the holidays doing what he loves and with Kaori beside her, snuggling with him by the fireplace in a romantic snowy night and she might even confess, and it’ll be a great catch for Shinichi, and he’ll return with a girlfriend, and—

“Kaori-san is lucky.” The words flow out of her mouth, unbridled.

Shinichi looks at her. “Lucky?”

Ran remains quiet and keeps walking. It’s dangerous to say anything. She only has one thing in her mind and she doesn’t want to say it out loud. She has no right.

“Ran, hey.”

She doesn’t stop walking.

“Ran.”

She ignores his call.

“Ran… you’re jealous.”

She stops walking.

“Excuse me?”

“...You’re jealous…” Shinichi repeats quietly.

A contrast to his calm tone, his irises beset hers in the cold twilight and Ran attempts to shield herself but her bag and umbrella are in the way. She thinks of turning away but her feet are frigid like icicles, and Shinichi steps closer.

For the third time, he declares, “You’re jealous.”

Hearing her thoughts echo through his words renders her speechless.

It seems to take a moment before Shinichi’s brow arches, lips curl up as his eyes refuse to stray, and she hears a faint exhale even, like he’s exasperated, and suddenly he’s smiling - or is he smirking? sneering? - and...and...

It stings, is her immediate reaction.

For the longest time, she’d wanted him to take a hint. But if she had known this was how he’d react, she’d rather live a life having him oblivious of her emotional struggle. Dealing with that is more tolerable than witnessing him gaze her down in blatant mockery. He sneers as though he’s about to crack a joke and move on and forget such a laughable matter. That’s the last form of acknowledgment she wants for her honest feelings.

Heartbreak and shame and pain build up in her chest like a volcano closing eruption. Water begins to cloud her vision. She clenches her fist tight on her umbrella and Shinichi notices, and he takes another step forward.

“Ran…?”

“I am not, and you’re a fool.”

In a span of a breath, she’s sprinting in the opposite direction, tracing the path where they have walked, ignoring the distant yells of her name behind her. She runs and runs, and as she runs farther, with her thoughts muddy and breath short and dry, she wonders if she may have overreacted.

If he’s done that on purpose, screw him. If not, screw her.

After all, they are merely friends and she has no logical reason to act this way.

“Stop... running... will you!”

She hears heavy footsteps close in. It takes all the energy Ran has to prevent herself from turning her body around but his strong grip overpowers her.

“Let me go!”

“Why are you running?!”

“I can’t...deal with you!”

“Why? Was I right?”

“Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter!”

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Because I am your best friend!”

On another occasion, she would’ve successfully jilted away and run farther, but Ran is floored when he yanks her into a one-armed hug, so floored she drops her umbrella to the snowy ground.

“Stop saying that!” he hisses in her ear, frustration apparent.

“What are you— Let me go!”

He hugs her tighter.

“If you don’t let go in three seconds, I will screa—”

“I am happy!”

Ran stops struggling, eyes widening in shock.

Icy huffs tickle her neck as he half shouts, “I’m happy you feel that way!”

“You’re...You’re happy because I’m suffering?”

“What? No! I—”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? How?” The hurt in her tone is impeccable, prattling muffled against his chest as she spares him no moment to butt in. “You think I wanted to feel this? That I enjoy griping in helpless jealousy? And you’re rejoicing that I am? How full of yourself can you be?!”

“That’s not...You don’t underst—”

“I do understand! I understand that I am so incredibly stupid for catching this disgusting heap of emotions for an obnoxious, stuck-up deduction maniac that is my best friend and maybe it’s better after all that he never, ever sees me the way I see him!”

“Stop saying that, Ran!”

She thinks he has broken away, but he drags her back with an insistent tug, crashing his lips onto hers as she stumbles into his arms.

All willpower rippling through her disintegrates quickly like snow in high heat.

An impatient pop resonates as he separates, eyes slowly opening, breath thick and ragged.

“I know that is not how we explain things, but does that explain anything?”

She hears it. The madness. But more than madness, yearning bleeds through his voice so much that her frustration turns into physical pain. Blinded by an all-consuming ache, she tips her chin and presses her lips back against his, demanding for cure in the wrong place. Shinichi freezes, then relaxes. He moves his hand to her nape, four fingers in her hair, thumb treading her jaw.

They look like a scene in a movie.

Under his umbrella and hidden from view, they communicate through brushing lips and tilting heads. His mouth closing over hers with gentle force, her hands splaying across his chest, heavy with something that makes his heart pound under them.

She is so lost in the chase and his tender embrace that for a second she forgets she is kissing her best friend.

Best friend.

This doesn’t explain anything. It worsens it.

She pulls back, ending what she has so recklessly started. “N-no, I’m— No.”

She pushes him away, gathers the stuff she drops, and runs without looking back.

“Ran!”

He shouts her name. Twice.

On the third call, his footfalls die down. On the fourth, he stops running.

She doesn’t.

Thirty minutes before midnight, Ran stands outside his gate, boots buried half foot under the snow as she rings his intercom for the second time, thinking to herself how foolish she must be to cut communications with him for a week and then show up his doorstep looking miserable like a stood-up date.

It’s the start of winter break.

He’ll leave for Akita in ten hours.

She needs to give his Christmas present before his departure.

She’s crazy, pathetic, still frustrated, and hurtfully in love.

“Oi. You better have a good explanation for why you’re buzzing at goddamn midnig—”

“Shinichi.”

His surprised gasp is apparent even through the intercom. A rustle follows and with a croaky voice, he responds. “...Ran.”

Surely he isn’t expecting this. Not after the tantrum she threw days ago. He probably thinks she hates him more than ever. But what she truly feels is more overwhelming than all negative emotions combined, and may god grant her all the strength to address it all, tonight.

“May I come in?”

“The house is—The house is a mess I, um. I’m packing my stuff for...”

“I’ll help you.”

“...”

She’ll understand if he decides to turn her down. But the answer that follows the deafening pause is a low and quiet ‘Okay’.

Despite psyching herself hours before she came, courage wanes when he opens the front door and gate in his pullovers. She is welcomed in, and the trip up his room is wordless. Shinichi only talks when he points out that he’s already packed clothes for two days and will need help for two weeks’ worth. He lamely laughs when he instructs her to pick the tops and layers, and he’ll take care of the pants and underwear.

On a normal instance, she would’ve humored him and they would’ve been talking right after. Now she simply pulls an empty smile and then they fall back into silence.

She supposes he’s trying to act unbothered, to treat what happened a week ago as a one-and-done glitch in their friendship, never to be discussed again. She cannot fault him when she’s trying to do the same. But it’s not easy when in the stillness of the night the echo of their altercation howls, raging persistently in their ears.

What has he been thinking of for the past week?

Has he been kept up all night by the words she said and the words he left unspoken?

Are they still friends? Will they still be friends after this?

The kiss... What about the kiss?

So many questions. So little words. So little time.

Ran is seated on the floor, folding shirts and stuffing them neatly in his duffel bag. Her back faces Shinichi who is sorting out bottoms in his cabinet. She senses him sit on the floor, back against her but not touching. Neither dares to speak first.

A ringing phone cuts the silence.

“Mm, still awake. Good for two weeks right? Gotcha. No, I’ll meet you girls at the station, no need to fetch me. Pfft. I can walk. Ok, see you tomorrow.”

If Ran wasn’t so hyperaware of where she is and what she’s done, her mood would’ve shifted to the one she’d been trying to avoid. Now isn’t the time to think about that. Midnight sneaking out to go to his house is something she wouldn’t do even on good days. She scans her bag on the far couch, deliberately bringing a bigger one to hide his gift. Maybe she can just sneak it in his bag and leave once she’s done and he’ll discover it only when he’s prefectures away. Brown has always suited him, and he’ll definitely find the overcoat useful as spare protective gear.

That’s right. She always cares for him like this. She is his best friend first, and... and nothing second.

“Don’t just leave after putting your present in my bag. At this hour, I can’t let you walk home alone,” he says swiftly.

Ran’s eyes fly wide.

“How did you…”

He doesn’t say anything and continues with his business.

Again with the throat-drying silence.

Something in Ran’s gut compels her to speak, but she is surprised when he does first.

“I... I don’t like Kaori-san. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

Ran stiffens, pausing mid-motion from folding. “I’m not…”

He leans his back completely against her and she shudders, voice reverberating through her skin. “Ran, if you could just hear me out.”

Unable to talk and move, she does.

“Kaori-san and the rest... They know I love mysteries. They know I want to build my own private detective agency. They know my favorite Holmes’ story is The Sign of Four. They know how many crimes I solved in Tokyo. All the information about me which anyone can read from the internet and newspaper and from what I told them when they ask, they know. Ran, you know all that. All that and more.”

He angles his head to the ceiling as if he’s talking to someone there. Ran supports his weight, curling to her knees as she silently listens.

“You know of my first ever deduction because Christ, my first deduction was about you. You know of the two cases which haunt me until this day because I watched the culprit die in front of my very eyes. You were with me the nights I locked myself in here thinking about them. You know of the interesting, the boring, the absurd cases, everything, because I told you or you were there. You know of the odd way I play the violin while I ponder over a case. You know I forget to eat when swamped with new books to read. I have three copies of The Sign of Four but the one I keep beside my bed and read almost weekly is the one you gave me on my tenth birthday and that is all I need. You know me for me, Ran. Everything about me that is off the record, the good and the bad, you know all of those. Only you. The same way I do... about you.”

She feels him crane slightly to the side, addressing her.

“Ran.”

“Mm.”

“I love you.”

Ran’s heart almost completely stops beating.

“I love you,” he whispers, “more than I am even supposed to.”

All words seem to have fizzled out of her vocabulary as she sits still, stunned at what she’s hearing.

“I’m happy growing up with you, studying with you, bickering with you, acting stupid with you, investigating with you, eating with you, napping with you, hugging you, holding you, taking care of you, simply... being with you. Before I know it, it’s not the cases or Holmes or mysteries that complete my days, it’s you.

“For you to keep repeating that ‘best friend’ phrase, I…” He lowers his head.

“For who knows how long, I’ve loved you as that and more.”

Someone pinch her because in no way can this be real.

“I was happy thinking you’re jealous because it meant a sliver of chance you feel the same way. We could’ve remedied the misunderstanding easily, Ran. We could’ve talked it over like we always do. But I was stupid and emotions were high and in the end I… kissed you…” he takes another deep breath, “But—but you kissed me back, and my heart couldn’t stay still...”

Pulse drumming loud, Ran tilts her head on the side where he leans, wanting to see the slightest expression he makes as he continues.

“If my deductions are wrong and you’re mad for a different reason, and—and you returned that for a different reason...” she hears the pang of remorse in his tone, “then please forget I ever said anything and I’ll leave myself to die in humiliation once I’m out of your sight.”

He lays one palm flat on the floor and she notices.

“But if my deductions are right and you were indeed jealous, I...” She feels his head swivel enough to feel his warm breath fan across her cheek, before shifting back front and releasing a slow, guttural exhale he’s kept contained within.

“I’ll wait... until you accept it. Accept me.”

Ran may have choked on her throat for how long she’s held her breath.

In spite of herself, she knows she doesn’t need to think of what to say. She had it all in her head before coming here. Yet expressing it out loud is a different matter.

She isn’t ready, but when will she ever be ready? Shinichi undoubtedly isn’t too. Yet here he is, laying the groundwork for her, no holds barred and a stuttering mess at that. How she plans to build from it is the question she asks herself next.

Inhaling as though bracing herself, she places a hand beside him, pinky slightly grazing his.

“I didn’t... You never showed any signs.”

Careful and calm, he extends his little finger over hers. She doesn’t flinch, and both hands crawl closer until two fingers overlap.

“Either I’m a great pretender or you’re incredibly dense.”

“I’m...I’m not dense.”

“I’m a bad actor, then.” He slides his hand further.

“I was trying so hard to be a supportive best friend for you.”

“I sensed that but ignored it because I didn’t want to assume anything.”

“You did though. Now we’re here.”

“Would you rather we aren’t?”

“I would rather we spend the last weeks of this year talking like normal than being stupid idiots before you leave.”

“It’s just two weeks, Ran.”

“Two special weeks I would’ve wanted to spend with my best frien-... with you.”

Without knowing it, his hand has completely nestled atop hers, four fingers curled between her thumb and index finger.

“Ran... You must really hate the idea of falling in love with me.”

“Eh?”

“You’re so wrapped with the thought that we’re simply best friends that you hold your love in chains as though it isn’t permitted to grow.”

“I… I didn’t want to ruin the only connection we have-”

“Two friends falling in love are still friends… They are also more. You cannot ruin an indefeasible connection. Friendship and love may be the only bond we have, but they’re the most important bond of all.”

Ran falls quiet.

“Geez…”

He releases a thick sigh, brushes his thumb across her splayed fingers.

“I have shit art appreciation skills, but I can take you to museums too... as a friend and as a date.” A beat, and a mumble. “Even to better museums than Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum.”

She darts her head sideways, realizing something.

“Were you also…?”

“No.”

Ran doesn’t suppress the heartfelt giggle that bubbles out.

“Shun-san has a boyfriend, Shinichi.”

“I—” he pauses. “I wasn’t asking.” Ran giggles more.

“Shinichi.”

“Yes.”

“I love you too.”

The hand above squishes hers all too suddenly like he’s been blown away and is needing something to hold onto.

“I came here to give your present and to apologize for being so shallow and for acting without thinking and for a lot of things actually... but now I feel there’s no need, because then I wouldn’t have...” She looks down at their intertwined hands.

Before she can return his squeeze, he recoils.

“Oh, y-you do apologize. Running away like that.” He coughs, and she can practically hear the tripping in his tone.

“Aren’t you already used to it? I’ve done it many times,” she chides.

“No. Apologize,” he insists. “And look at me while you do.”

Ran’s stomach twists, heart kicking up a step.

It’s easy to talk without eye contact, but to be requested so after confessions are exchanged—

“Face me, Ran.”

The familiar voice of yearning strums her heartstrings, tone sounding a lot like a plea than an order and Ran finds her head instinctively craning at an angle, hand coiling on the floor trying to calm her nervous beating heart. She feels him shift behind as well.

She takes all her time to face him, partly unsure what to do, partly knowing exactly what she wants to do. Despite the deliberate slowness of their movements, it is when they lock eyes that time truly seems to stop.

Shinichi appears so different, so soulful. His blue irises glimmering, fixated on nothing but her as she reveres him with matching intensity. The same guy she treats as her best friend looks at her with tender love in his eyes, darting down her lips and up like no best friend ever would.

“I love you,” he says, breathless. “Make me your boyfriend.”

A wave of emotion sweeps over her, heartbeat fluttering in overdrive as they huddle on the floor, bags and clothes and time forgotten.

“From best friend to... such a shift-”

“Nothing will be different.” He rests his forehead on hers, gaze of soft blue patient though more intimate now, knowing what they share is mutual. “We’ll still do what we do... With exclusive romantic commitment and sweet nothings that translate to ‘I love you’ in more ways than one.”

She attempts a jab on his chest but he catches her fist, soft but jesting beam all too apparent and she does but play along.

“What about when we fight?” she asks.

“Same. But...” he slides a thumb over her quiet lips, parting them slightly, “I can do this once we make up.”

“...Like right now?”

“Like right now.”

A genuine smile is the last thing she sees before delicate pair of lips lands on hers, capping their one-week fight and their last night of the year together in the best and most unexpected way imaginable.

Ran keeps telling herself she shouldn’t be jealous.

Not because they are simply best friends, because they aren’t. Not because life would be easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven, because it wouldn’t.

Not because Shinichi doesn’t look at her that way, because he does.

She shouldn’t be jealous because she absolutely has no reason to, is all.

“I haven’t forgotten about your present. I was planning to buy yours in Akita.”

“Stop lying, you totally forgot it.”

“I didn’t. Stop that.” Half-mast eyes rake her side profile, and Ran covers a mirthful grin with her mitted hand holding the umbrella, then yawns. Hours of packing and talking and laughing left them with roughly four hours of sleep. It isn’t like she slept the whole period because while sleeping in his room isn’t new, cuddling while they sleep is. Ran couldn’t simply shut her eyes and heart to that.

“I believe though,” he wraps a hand around her free one, pocketing both of them in his brand new overcoat, “I gave half of my present already.”

“Hnn. That doesn’t count as a gift.” Her hand shifted, coddling his own to a warm fit.

“Really?” A smug smirk pulls up his face. “I believe I am a nice present, Ran. That’s why they—”

“Screw this. You are unbelievable. A humbug. Why do people like you.”

“I know. Why do you like me?” Shinichi laughs as he avoids the swing of her umbrella.

From afar, they see Kaori and the girls at the meet-up point outside Tokyo Station, though they seem unaware of their presence yet. Suddenly feeling conscious, Ran feels the urge to disentangle her hand, but Shinichi holds on, firm.

“Why?” He asks in a low voice.

“I dunno… maybe this isn’t the best time…”

“Isn’t now the best time?” His smile is proud and natural, not one ounce of reluctance visible.

Although she gets what he means, that doesn’t free her of shyness and guilt. Somehow she feels like apologizing to Kaori for… she doesn’t know. She just wants to. Letting her see them like this makes her think that she’s giving her an indirect slap on the face. Shinichi certainly won’t agree because ‘What’s with women and their logic?’, but still, whether or not it’s all in her head, Ran needs more time to prepare for this.

But to her surprise, Shinichi lets go of her hand. They are still a few feet from view when he steps in front of her and turns around. “Maah, fine, I get it,” he huffs, then smiles. “Then, just give me your umbrella.”

The moment she does, Shinichi closes their distance and dips his face onto hers. Ran is given no leeway to gasp as loving lips seal her quiet. It isn’t as long as what they shared a week ago, but the emotions are loaded and full, speaking fond thanks and temporary farewell.

She doesn’t realize she has closed her eyes until he separates, and she’s met with the most tender, most angelic expression he wears only on the rarest occasions. He’s saying without telling that her feelings are valid, she doesn’t have to worry, and he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but her. Somehow, the snow is the sea and fish are swarming around but neither cares because they have already caught each other.

“You don’t have to, silly.” Three layers of pink blanket Ran’s puffy cheeks.

“But I want to.” Grinning, Shinichi hands her back the umbrella. “You don’t like hand-holding. You don’t like being seen. Don’t you think that’s a great compromise?”

“Idiot, many people saw...”

“No, they didn’t!” Upping the duffel bag slung on his shoulder, he steps back and gives her one last goofy beam. “I’ll see you next year, Ran. I’ll call as often as I can.”

Wordlessly, Ran watches Shinichi’s back as he jogs to his waiting companions, who by then have already had their eyes pinned on the approaching figure.

“That is Shinichi-kun! ...And Mouri-san!”

“Ehhh!!?! You’re a thing!”

So much for being subtle, Ran flushes inwardly as she returns the wave the other girls are giving her. At that moment she really does feel immature for her past conduct. All of them are sweet. Even Kaori.

“I knew it Shinichi-kun! Mouri-san is sooo lucky, I’m so jealous!” Ran hears their banter and sees her jab his bicep before acknowledging her. “We’ll take care of him, Mouri-san!”

The Ran from one week ago would’ve had her heart crushed by such declaration, but now she’s nothing but pleased and the smile that forms across her lips is nothing but honest. “Make sure he doesn’t drag your group into a random dead body, Kaori-san!”

“Hey!” surfaces Shinichi’s shout amidst the mincing laughter of the group and the onlooking passers-by, and Ran bids her last wave before they enter the station.

Smiling to herself, Ran returns home, the lingering promise of his kiss committed to memory, knowing that she doesn’t have to get jealous because she has no reason to. Their indefeasible bond is all the assurance she needs.

#shinran #kiss prompts #fanfic #lmk anon(s) if you see this and if you do then yaaay #thank you for requesting!#and thank you for reading!#:')#I have a love-hate relationship with this fic #it's only supposed to be 4 scenes #oh well it is what it is lmao #it's ok ig since this is the last (awww) from the kiss prompts!#😌#I tried so hard with a jealous Ran haha #jealous fics are good reads but writing them is hard :O

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tarithenurse · 3 years

Text

In the eyes

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Uchiha Itachi x fem!reader Content: Feels. Angst. Loss. Love. Reference to killing (war and murder). Captivity. Sorrow. Hope. Anger. You name it, it’s there. A/N: I just want to say in my defence that this story isn’t my fault. Blame @maladaptive-ninja-returns...it’s her birthday present (yes, I’m late)!

In the eyes

The steam is long gone together with your interest in the drink when you drain the cup of tea as the black-haired man gets up to leave. The cape hides what he’s missing – if only it was his leg instead – that way you wouldn’t have to keep the distance to the bare minimum, constantly risking him discovering that you’re following him. It doesn’t help to complain, though: he’s alive and mobile...and you have to watch your every move.

Volunteering for the assignment has probably been one of the more masochistic choices you’ve made, but you just couldn’t let the last Uchiha go yet.

For years, watching the kid grow older had kept a wound alive that no one knew about. It festered, saturating you with a sickening, rotten, sadness that never washed off but wasn’t detected by your peers. You should have let it heal. Should have moved on. But there had always been something keeping you from accepting what everyone else had decided must be true.

You weren’t the only one dealing with grief, of course. The life of a Leaf ninja was to say goodbye too soon and then to live with the numbing ache, renewed each time memories stirred.

Before the fourth war, the newfangled gossip of the dead returning was treated as ghost stories by most people until the climax of it all, when too many stood face to face with loved ones. Lost ones. And you were too weak to prevent the hope from being rekindled, so once peace was a reality and all the shinobis prepared to celebrate in the chaotic haze of the aftermath, you made a decision.

That is why, three seconds after the door closes behind Uchiha Sasuke, you get up...

...and sit right down again to avoid pressing against the sharp blade of the person suddenly appearing beside you.

The newcomer’s face is hidden partially under the wide-rimmed hat and the rest behind a dark and tattered cloak. Glancing down, a hand with purple-painted nails slips the kunai into the darkness of the cloak, leaving you with the knowledge that it’s there.

There’s no doubt in your mind that this is a shinobi. Where did you come from? Admittedly, there are others frequenting the little tea house because it’s a popular stop at a major crossroads...even if it mainly services those without national affiliations. None of the rest of the clientele reacts to the scene unfolding discreetly and you have no wish to catch their attention before you know what and who you’re dealing with.

“What do you want?”

It takes a second before you realize the question isn’t asked by you. Another one to recover from the smooth dusk that is the stranger’s voice. A voice with a hint of familiarity in the timbre which you decide must be your mind playing games.

“Nothing. I’m no enemy of yours,” you try to placate them, silently counting the seconds worth of head start separating you from Sasuke, “and I hold nothing of value...you should let me go.”

The tickle of a laugh surprises you. “If I’d wanted your possessions, they’d already be mine. I want answers, Konoha-girl.”

The headband you carry is hidden under your clothes, well out of sight from any prying eyes. Finally giving up on stalking your initial target, you turn your undivided attention to the person who has seated them-self before you.

The little skin you can see is pale, and a few black strands have escaped the slack ponytail and fallen in front of the face where only chin and jawline is visible. As if knowing your annoyance, the head is tipped slightly, allowing you to glimpse soft, gently smiling lips. Kissable. The thought jars you.

“I recommend you give up that wish.” No one should be able to hear the nervousness in your voice...but the stranger smirks. “My business is my own.”

“Not when it involves him,” they says, inclining the hat towards the door where Uchiha left.

You’re out to get him? You almost feel sorry for this fool who clearly doesn’t have a clue about the one-armed ninja’s identity.

“Don’t be mistaken,” the person smiles as if reading your thoughts, “I know who he is and what he’s capable of, after all...he’s my brother.”

Calmly meeting your gaze, the eyes meeting you flash red.

...

“Don’t look an Uchiha in the eyes”. It was the warning that was whispered into your ears as soon as you were big enough to run errands on your own. Naturally, you had to do it, and what met you was not as demonic as the warning stories had made you think – rather, they were kind, and wiser than the smooth face hinted at – although you never looked another Uchiha in the eyes just to be on the safe side.

It was impossible to discern the colour. Some days, they seemed leaden as if the rain clouds were gathered inside the boy too. A few times, in the morning when he watched where his fists struck the wood, the sparks from the cozy fire of the evening before still lingered in the warmest of black. What you loved the most, though, was when the gaze was locked onto infinity and they were soft like liquid.

...

Everything is different: the stuffy tea room with its noisy patrons has been replaced by somewhere deserted that seems to be carved out of grey stone.

How did I get here? Careful to move as little as possible, you take in the new surroundings only to find the place empty and with only one way in and out. A dull cold has already seeped into your feet as you stand there, lost as your bearings have nothing to latch on to – the only light is a torch in a wall sconce to your left.

Feet. They are bare, and a quick pat-down reveals that all of your weapons, your belt, and your headband have been stripped from you too. The sensation is uncanny, akin to nakedness. The logic behind it is obvious as it reduces the chances of a successful escape even if you were to make it out and establish a route.

On the other hand: you’re unharmed and unbound.

Turning, you have no doubt that the wooden door is locked but of course you go over to try, heart frozen near your throat when you push against it with your shoulder. Surprisingly, it does open and the screaming hinges sets the tiniest hairs on your body on end.

“Not wasting any time, Konoha-girl.”

You recognize the voice and the decorated nails on the hand that appears to pull open the door completely, and not just from the rest stop but from years of aching recollections that have been warped by watching Sasuke grow up with this man’s shadow lingering over his life. Over your life.

No. There’s no way. He died. Now your heart jackhammers a frenzied rhythm.

It’s a fool’s hope that powers the jab towards his neck. An idiot’s dream urging you to sprint past him. At least I tried, a bitter thought comments the moment both attempts are thwarted as a rib-crushing kick sends your tumbling backwards and you land sprawled in the middle of the room.

The ceiling is still spinning, it seems, when you sense the man’s presence loom over you. The fingers are cool (and surprisingly gentle) as the curl around the back of your skull, fingers digging into your hair to grant a tight grip to pull you closer by. Very close. A hand’s length separates the tips of your noses and you want to be oblivious to the way his mouth curves softly.

“You’re not leaving,” he whispers, “until I say so.”

Feeling and strength are beginning to return to your arms, including a sharp ache in your chest that grows with every shallow breath which you try to ignore. Should have restrained me, fool...and the thought dies there as everything shifts and the ground swallows your limbs.

“N-no...how...? No!”

He watches your struggles lazily before releasing his grip and sitting down next to you on the hard floor. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

But you did. Wait...no! You haven’t...it wasn’t you...it can’t have been...

“You lie about your identity,” you scoff, regretting the outburst immediately as pain stabs coldly into your side, “so excuse me for not trusting you on this either.” There is a little smile there on his lips, full of sadness and regret that makes your insides cringe momentarily until you have the breath to explain to him (or yourself) why it can’t be true: “Uchiha Itachi has been killed!”

“Yes...and then I was brought back.” He’s impossibly calm as though he’s simply discussing the weather. “Twice.”

Double reanimated? As if! The war had been a horror to live through and would have been without people facing their deceased comrades and family members on the battlefield. However, once destroyed or sealed, none of the animated dead had walked again and all of them had been dealt with properly in the end.

Looking at the ninja, none of the signs of reanimation are prominent. On the other hand...even if they had been, you might not even notice it now that you meet the man’s gaze and the liquid infinity there.

“I could show you...but I’m afraid your mind can’t take the strain in your current state,” the so-called Itachi explains.

Mind, your aching heart still reels from fear of being broken once more, this is all in my mind.

Zoning out everything else, you focus on the flow of chakra within. Calming it, soothing it, until abruptly forcing the flow to revert. It feels as if your very soul drops for a second but the moment it returns to its place, the world is no longer made up of lies and imaginary sensations...and you’re still lying on the ground in a room made of stone, your ribs feeling as if they’re speared by frost. The only improvement is that at least your limbs are free.

And Itachi? Yes, you have to call him that because deep within you can’t deny it any longer.

The official reports hadn’t been released by the time you left Konoha and you’re not high enough up in the ranks as a shinobi to get the juicy information unless it’s necessary for a mission – and since your missions tend to be B or simpler A rank...well, I guess my current mission’s a bust but this is an important discovery!

A silky chuckle refocuses your attention. “Very good...I suppose I must strengthen my genjutsu against you.”

He’s so close, you could touch him. Shifting to lean against the wall, he rests his arms casually on the knees and begins to pick at the chapping nail polish.

“No need to,” you bite back a groan as you roll over to sit up, “I take it that’s how you got me here?” Pretty eyes are watching your every move as he nods in agreement. “Hm. It’ll probably be useless to ask where we are, so...why? Why show yourself now?”

Sitting cross legged, you find the pain lessens if you pull your clothes and arms tightly around your torso, restricting the depth of your breathing. Broken or bent ribs? Not that it really matters. First of all, he would be able to beat you in a fight anyways; secondly, even if you got out of here you wouldn’t know where “here” is; and third (but not least), you don’t really want to run from him.

Rather than answer, Itachi stands up and holds out his left hand for you. Puzzled, you take it. Soft fingers curl around yours and he pulls you to your feet, studying your movements and the twisting facial expressions.

He doesn’t let go.

Not when he guides you out the door and into a hallway shaped of the same kind of stone as the room was made of. Carved from.

Not when he slows down at the sound of the squeaky breathing the pace forces from you.

There doesn’t seem to be many rooms along the winding path. Here and there a door bars the way or you catch a glimpse of a dead-end that looks as though the excavation was abandoned or even disrupted by cave-ins.

You do your best to memorize the path, but frankly, your mind is getting fuzzy from pain and exhaustion. You have no sense of time, just hunger and tiredness weighing you down to indicate the loss of many hours.

“Just a bit longer, [Y/N],” Itachi soothes.

When did I tell him my name? You want to ask or at least protest, but it would be a choice between talking or getting to wherever he’s leading you...and you doubt he’ll let you pause.

A few dozen steps later and a short flight of stairs up, he ushers you through a door into a room that looks like a mix between a kitchen and work station. A fire is the only light and heat source (the smoke venting up through a chimney too narrow to be an escape route), casting a warm glow over the solid wooden table and chairs. Everything else is hewn from whatever mountain you’re inside.

“Sit,” your captor finally releases the grip and points at a chair near the fire and you obediently do as you’re told.

There are shelves and niches almost hidden in the dancing shadows at first holding with boxes, bundles, and various utensils. He knows where everything is, grabbing a few items before returning and laying it out in the light. Bandages. His movements are fluid and elegant, just like you remembered.

He motions towards your upper body, then turns to tend to the fire. “Strip.”

“That’s really not -”

“Some of your ribs are broken. Restraining them will minimize the pain.”

He’s right. Of course he is.

With clipped movements, you pull off the layers until you hesitate at the poor excuse of a bra. Despite the now roaring fire, the cold from the stone still seeps into your body and raises waves of goosebumps and tightens your nipples. It would be easier to apply the bandages correctly without the last bit of clothing in the way, but right now it feels like the only shield left at your disposal as Itachi turns back to you.

“We’ll work around that,” the man offers softly.

He works quietly at first. Hands winding the linen bandages around you adeptly, pausing each time the ministration intensifies the pain and causes the discomfort to escape as stubborn hisses. The purple nail polish is mesmerizing – simultaneously a contrast to the horrific stories of a killer and perfectly fitting the pretty, nearly feminine, traits you see. Especially the eyes. Sure, they’re filled with a bottomless sadness that you don’t feel comfortable acknowledging, but they’re beautiful. Haunting.

“You’re staring,” he hums without looking up.

Shit. “No. I just -...let’s say you’re who you claim to be,” you try to recover, “why’re you back?”

“To be his watcher.”

“Says who?”

This time, he stops and looks you dead in the eyes. “Otsutsuki Hagoromo, the Sage of Six Paths.” There are very few proper comebacks to that, so your captor continues without giving you a chance to think of something, “Otsutsuki told me about the bonds of families and that it can transcend blood. He knows hatred can cause – and has caused – too much harm...but something rekindled his hope that it can be overcome.“

I don’t have an eye on Uchiha constantly, but... “Does Sasuke know?” Returning to his work, Itachi avoids your gaze. “He doesn’t...”

“He’s finally found peace and is on the right path...I can’t risk undoing it.”

Bullshit! “Or you’re a coward who doesn’t have the guts to fa-” the rest is cut off as soft fingers tighten around your throat.

Blood-red eyes pierce your mind, numbing you for an eternity or a millisecond.

...

They were a means to reach the goal but their words still hurt as you followed meekly in their footsteps. Snobbery. Disdain. Considering how proud your two team members clearly felt, they had very little to show for their reputation as Uchihas and frankly, it was your skills rather than theirs that ensured successful missions and still, you never once looked them in their face. Instead, you kept an eye out for two other of the clan.

Where one was, so would the other be. Thick as thieves, the boys had found a companionship that complemented their differences in the same manner as the sun and the moon. But as opposed to your teammates who swooned at the brightness of the sun, you were drawn to the night and the calmness it brought whenever that boy was near – each time he met your eyes, time became meaningless.

...

The two of you sit in silence as the steam from the soup caresses your face. Your mind is blank, slowly starting to pick up on the absence of stone walls – wood has replaced the cold surfaces, making it almost unbearably warm with the bandages underneath your layers of clothes – and a plethora of questions begin to press against your conscious only to be held back as most of your thoughts get derailed whenever you look at the man before you.

Without the hat and cloak to conceal him, it’s impossible to ignore all the details you’ve nurtured in your memory for ages, such as the slight pull of his lips as he thinks or the elegance of his movements now that he gets up and refills his bowl from the pot hanging over the fire.

“Why are you following Sasuke?”

You should be diplomatic. “I could ask you the same.” You’re not.

“I already told you,” Itachi shrugs.

“Well I...I don’t believe you.”

But you do. There’s no denying anymore that this man is who he claims to be and so, why would he lie about his purpose? The sad smile. The quiet mannerisms. The idea that Itachi would somehow transcend death to watch over his little brother? That’s a mysterious intricacy that fits with your memories of him from before that night.

“You do...but something else is bothering you.” It’s a statement, not a question. “Am I not what you expected?”

No, you’re not. However, he’s what you remember with a layer of sorrow added on top. He doesn’t get to be sad. The little spark of anger is what you need. You nurse it, feed it until it flares up hot and bright and consumes your regrets and self-pity.

“Expected? I don’t know what I expected from someone like you!” Your voice is rising, shaking with years of frustration. “Clan killer. Murderer. I never told anyone but I was in love with an Uchiha! That night, I’d gone to bed, finally sure that I was gonna tell him but when I woke up...” Something inside you had broken that day and it still hurts now. “They told me how you’d left Sasuke alive...but the boy I loved was gone and no one knew I was mourning. Each time I saw him -” you can’t hold back a strangled sound and you realize, you’re crying -”I saw the ghost of...” The bowl of floating vegetables looks blurry until you blink angrily. “Ugh! But what does a teenager know of love, right? They’ll grow up. Get over it. Except I knew you were out there still and that you had all the answers. Why? The Itachi I remember wasn’t a mindless monster! I was told a story, but it doesn’t make any sense. If all the monster wanted was power then why spare Sasuke? Why did everyone else have to die?”

The inhalations are shallow and rapid, making you dizzy as you cling to the table and the spoon. It burns in your lungs and cheeks.

“I am sorry for the pain, I’ve caused you.”

Your gaze snaps to his face and you know he’s speaking the truth but it doesn’t matter right now.

“Sorry? Sorry?! You don’t get to be sorry! I missed y-...the boy, I loved was gone and it took ages before I could let go and stop mourning, finally accepting the truth had died with you and now...now you’re here? And it’s all back and I don’t understand! How could you?” Itachi doesn’t flinch as you launch the bowl towards him – he doesn’t have to because your aim is off and it clatters to the floor in a shower of shards and wasted food after hitting the wall behind him. “How? The boy I loved was not a monster! He wouldn’t do what they s-”

The echoes of your wheezing shouts ring through the room after the abrupt stop. Holding your breath, you wait for the ground to swallow you whole or for the man at the other end of the table to react and the fear is colder than the burning in your chest.

“Things aren’t always what they seem,” Itachi eventually whispers, “they were just people who had been wronged and misguided until their arrogance made them blind.”

What? That’s not exactly what you had expected. Without explaining further, your captor gets up, handing you his bowl of food before beginning to clean the mess you’ve made.

“Don’t...I’ll get tha-” you begin.

He only has to look at you.

...

The dew had soaked your toes, cooling and soothing them after each kick that you landed on the wood stump. Pine. The new splinters refreshed the scent as they fell to the ground and you knew that birds would rummage through them in the hope of finding a morning snack once the training grounds were free of people again – they were already gathering at the edge of the clearing except for where Itachi stood.

The realization made you stop mid-kick, gaze locked with his and heart fluttering in your chest. How long had he stood there?

“They’re wrong.” You could barely believe he was talking to you. “Your teammates...don’t listen to what they say.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Itachi was gone and maybe it had all been your imagination running free.

...

Sitting up abruptly, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to get used to the low light of the dying embers. Where am I?

Salt and drying seaweed is heavy in the air, somehow worming its way into what appears to be yet another room of stone. No...it’s a cave. You’re sitting on a bedroll splayed out onto the sand filling the place and you have no memory of arriving.

The dark form on the other side of the fire pit makes no move as you slip a hand underneath your shirt to confirm what you already know: the bandages are gone and there’s only a muted tenderness as you prod at the ribs. How long has it been?

“You’re safe,” Itachi’s gentle voice assures, and you feel your pulse slow despite the ominous situation, “go back to sleep.”

Yes. Sleep...hang on! Shaking your head, you fight the urge to succumb to the fuzziness that weighs your thoughts. “Why’re you doing this?” you mumble.

It doesn’t make sense why the man wouldn’t simply get the answers he want and then dispose of you or at the very least leave you locked up somewhere while he keeps following Sasuke from the shadows. Instead, your captor has put an effort into keeping you comfortable. Feeding you.

“I remember you.” His eyes reflect the red coals as they burn into your soul all over again. “Memories don’t do your justice, though.”

...

There is no world beyond the walls of the garden but a red sheet of sky dotted with storm clouds. The sliding doors have been pushed aside, opening the hallway to the view, and you know the wood beneath your bare feet should be silky from decades of use. You can’t feel it. There are no scents either, no breeze to toy with the soft fabric of your yukata, nor insects clicking from the rhododendron.

“This isn’t real.”

“No,” Itachi confirms from behind you, “but here I can create what you need. Who you need.”

Turning at last, there’s no reason to shy away from meeting his gaze even if it matches the fake sky. He looks real – as opposed to the familiarity of the home of your childhood that surrounds the two of you – and the ghost of a smile kindly tries to hide the sadness.

“...need. For what?”

The black strands falling into his face are strangely dull in the nightmarish light. “Closure.”

“That’s not possible.”

Wanting to leave, to run away and avoid what Itachi intends, you find yourself rooted in place by an invisible force. Even turning your face away is impossible and you pray that he doesn’t understand the well of emotions he must be able to see in your eyes.

“This is a chance for you to say goodbye to the one I killed. The one you...love,” he pauses to scrutinize your expression and you try to remain neutral, “because you do. You still love him.”

“You have no right...” swallowing hard, you fight to keep the words back, “no right t-to claim to know what I need!” Finally, you manage to close your eyes but they snap open again at the touch of his fingertips on your forehead. “This isn’t something you get to fix like -”

...

The world has shifted again and you’re back in the ocean side cave. You can feel how uneven the sand is under your knees and shins even with the bedroll to soften the press and some some the grains have found their way in between your toes...but none of that matters because Itachi is still right before you, his fingers gently resting on your brow.

A pop-and-crackle from the fire pit is the only sound other than your shallow breathing. You know, he knows. Eyes widened in nigh-comedic understanding, it’s as if he sees you for the first time.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N].”

You barely manage to whisper, “for what?”

His fingertips send shivers along your spine as they trace a path, allowing him to cradle the back of your neck in his palm.

“Everything” Itachi’s lips brush your cheek, “for breaking your heart in so many ways and for making you think your love was unrequited.”

#Itachi #Uchiha Itachi #Uchiha Itachi x fem!reader #In the eyes #Itachi x fem!reader #Itachi x you #Itachi x y/n #Itachi Uchiha #post naruto shippuuden #naruto fandom #itachi fanfiction #itachi fanfic #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #naruto #anime #x reader #x fem!reader

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sgtjbbhasmyheart · 4 years

Text

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Five

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3601

Warnings: ANGST, Bucky most definitely needs a hug halfway through this, bad language words

A/N: I’m flattered and frankly overwhelmed with the love and support everyone is showing for this little story. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🥰

A/N 2: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

In case you missed the update, I will try to publish a new chapter every Saturday from here on out. 🤞

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

Whistles and sirens were blaring inside Bucky’s head as he stared at Peter’s neighbor. Everything within him was screaming at him to run away. His anxiety ticked up. Could this really be (Y/N)?

He would have recognized her voice anywhere. God only knew how many times he’d listened and relistened to her voicemail. He wasn’t obsessive; he just liked the dips-the peaks and valleys-in her voice and the self-deprecating laugh she’d made. And with his super soldier hearing- he’d learned a knack for these things.

Bucky stood unmoving and breathless while shaking (Y/N)’s hand in front of her door. All he could do was stare at her. He had never imagined in a million years meeting her face-to-face. It was like a dream. A weird but wonderful dream.

He was stunned by her beauty as he gazed into her smiling face. Not that he’d ever pictured her being unattractive.

No siree.

It was a shock to have her here now, but to have her looking the way she did? (Y/N) was gorgeous. Her eyes sparkled with giddiness, and pink tinged the apples of her cheeks.

He must have finally died and gone to heaven. That was the only explanation he could think of right now.

Because there (Y/N) was, in front of him and in the flesh, still shaking his hand.

Still.

Bucky’s stomach swooped with the feeling of embarrassment. He could feel the skin of his face warming quickly. He was just like Lang meeting Steve at the airport in Germany. An overeager puppy.

God, he was an idiot.

He caught an uncomfortable look flash across (Y/N)’s face but continued pumping her arm. Peter cleared his throat beside him, and (Y/N) grinned wider in response.

A dazzling smile.

“Gonna need my hand back to unlock the door,” she said with a soft chuckle.

Bucky dropped it like he’d been burned. He could see Peter giving him a goofy look out of the corner of his eye. Like that kid wasn’t awkward as fuck around girls. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his flesh hand.

What was he thinking, shaking her hand so long?

Bucky clumsily followed (Y/N) and Peter into her apartment after the deadbolt was unlocked and nearly dumped her grocery bags on the floor. He couldn’t take his eyes away from her. Peter threw him another weird look.

“Please excuse my friend,” Peter quipped, patting Bucky on the shoulder. “Apparently, he just learned to walk yesterday.”

(Y/N) laughed politely at the joke, and Bucky blushed furiously.

From the stories Steve had told him about their past and “sweeping dames off their feet,” why was this so hard? It should be like taking candy from a baby. He had a rapport with her, not that she knew, but it should be more comfortable than it was. His shoulders slumped.

“S-sorry,” Bucky stuttered out. (Y/N) smiled sweetly at the apology, and his chest constricted.

“Don’t worry about it,” (Y/N) reasoned, “I just had the floors waxed.” She winked at him as she grabbed a bag from his arms.

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. She winked. She fucking winked!

Was (Y/N) flirting? Did he flirt back? Did he even remember how? He would have known what to do if they were texting instead. Their whole relationship was easier when they weren’t face-to-face. When he couldn’t see how the light in the kitchen made her hair shine or how her eyes twinkled when she laughed, he was a lot smoother.

Smooth like creamy peanut butter.

It was so frustrating only remembering bits and snatches of his old memories. This situation was nothing like the girl at the coffee shop he sometimes visited or the corner market’s cashier. This was (Y/N). This was someone he’d reciprocate the advances from- given half a chance. Someone he definitely didn’t have feelings for, though.

Nope. Not at all.

From somewhere hidden deep inside, the darkness crept in. You think she’s flirting with you? You think she wants someone like you? She pities you, his inner voice said—pity for a sad, broken man.

The breath previously stuck inside him rushed out in a sob. His stomach plunged to his feet again, but not in embarrassment this time. This time, it was for actually believing he might have a chance with (Y/N). Thinking she’d settle for someone like him.

He was dangerous. He was a murderer.

(Y/N)’s face filled with concern, eyebrows pinching together, and she edged closer. She raised a hand to touch him but thought twice. “You okay?”

Bucky shook his head to dispel the bleak thoughts. “Ye-yeah, sorry.” The room kept spinning.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Would you like some water?” (Y/N) asked, rushing to the cupboard to pull down a glass to fill.

Peter stepped closer to his side. “You don’t look too good, man. Yer not havin’ one of your flashbacks, are ya?”

Bucky looked at Peter for a moment, puzzled. Flashback? His grapefruit was too scrambled to conjure up any of the horrors he experienced at night during the day. “No, kid. I’m fine,” he lied.

Peter inched back slightly, but still within reach if the worst should happen.

Bucky saw (Y/N) watching him expectantly, tilting the glass in his direction. “No, thank you, ma’am. Water won’t be necessary.”

He observed (Y/N)’s eyes slowly widen in shock.

“Ma’am?” (Y/N) asked in mock offense. “Ma’am?”

Peter started laughing as Bucky’s mouth popped open in a horrified “O.” He tried to protest, but nothing would come out.

(Y/N) turned to Peter, who was now gasping in laughter. “It’s the cardigan, huh?” she questioned jokingly. “It makes me look like a crazy cat lady, doesn’t it?”

Bucky’s face flushed instantly. “That’s not…” he argued, the end of his sentence coming out as a groan instead.

How had this night and their meeting gone downhill so quickly? He couldn’t do anything right around (Y/N), it seemed.

How could he win her heart if he was just some bumbling fool?

Oh, god! Was he actively trying to win (Y/N) over?

Bucky’s pulse hammered underneath his skin. He’d finally met the girl he was falling for, and he was mucking up the whole thing. The instinct to flee suddenly kicked into high gear.

He took one last look at Peter, hunched over in laughter and holding his stomach. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the kid. He had some nerve! He slid his eyes over to where (Y/N) stood. Her expression was rapidly morphing from good-humored to regret.

Bucky placed the final bag he held on the counter and huffed a sigh before walking past (Y/N) and Peter out of the kitchen, heading for the door. (Y/N) caught the nook of his elbow as he passed, stopping him.

He looked down at the delicate fingers wrapped around his arm, and his heart lurched. She wasn’t afraid, he thought. She knew who he was- what he was- and she wasn’t afraid. He brought his gaze back up to hers. He could easily break every finger of her hand, but there was no fear in her eyes—just remorse.

“I apologize,” (Y/N) assured. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” Her hand skimmed down his forearm to his wrist and left behind the fleeting feeling of her touch.

“It’s fine,” Bucky said gruffly. “I was leaving anyway.” He nodded at Peter, who had managed to pull himself together from his laughing fit, and gave (Y/N) a thin-lipped smile. He made his way to the door.

(Y/N)’s face dropped as he walked away. “Oh. Well, thank you for your help with my groceries,” she called.

Bucky’s step faltered as he walked through the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder at (Y/N) for a moment and shut the door.

He had had no desire to leave the radiant presence of (Y/N), but if he didn't, the fluttering he felt inside would have turned into a full-blown panic attack while thinking about every misstep he’d taken.

Reaching the sidewalk outside (Y/N) and Peter’s building, Bucky expelled a huge exhale.

“Well, that was a fucking disaster,” he grumbled to himself.

He stomped down the sidewalk to where he’d parked the car he’d borrowed from the compound. He wrenched the driver-side door open in frustration, nearly ripping the thing off. He slid inside and stared out the windshield. Was there a way back from this? Or was he destined to spend eternity in the friend zone?

Bucky wrung his hands around the steering wheel and let out a moan of exasperation. He started the ignition and gave one last glance to (Y/N)’s building. He tucked away any hope he thought he might’ve had with her in the far recesses of his mind and drove away.

Bucky was trembling by the time he returned to the compound. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he strode down one of the many halls leading to his quarters. He had worked himself into a frenzy on the drive home.

It was her, he thought, gliding his gloved hand through the hair that had come loose from the earlier knot he’d tied. It was definitely (Y/N).

There was no mistaking it was her, now. Bucky was absolutely sure. (Y/N)’s voicemail had played over and over in his mind on the ride upstate.

Bucky stalked down the hallway, cursing himself again for blowing any modicum of a chance he had with (Y/N).

What was he saying? Did he stand a real chance with her? He was The Winter fucking Solider. The Asset. Soldat.

Of course not.

He growled as he moved closer to his apartment, his sanctuary. It was the only place he could find any real solace nowadays.

Struggling with his internal conflict, focusing too much on the what-ifs, he didn’t see the solid wall of muscle until it was too late.

“Whoa, Buck! Easy there,” Steve said as he steadied his dazed best friend. “Where’s the fire?”

Bucky glimpsed into Steve’s eyes, his own shimmering with sadness. Steve thought the world of him. He could do no wrong, according to Steve. What would he think after this?

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, voice full of worry.

“I fucked up, Stevie,” Bucky lamented, eyes now downcast to the floor.

“What happened?” Steve asked, grabbing hold of Bucky’s shoulder. “What did you do?”

Bucky’s eyes flicked back up to Steve’s face, and he watched fear crawl across it.

His body practically crumpled inwardly. “It was her,” Bucky said. “She was right in front of me.”

“Her who?” Steve questioned. The look of fear slipped into one of misunderstanding once he realized no immediate threat or harm was coming to Bucky.

Bucky chuckled. “(Y/N).” His focus wasn’t on Steve anymore, but just over his right shoulder. His eyes were wistful.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “She was so...God, she was just so beautiful.”

Bucky proceeded when Steve continued to stare at him blankly. “She was a breath of fresh air after you’ve run at full-speed for what seems, like, forever.”

“A breath of fresh air?”

“Yes!”

“I’m still not exactly sure who we’re talkin’ about,” Steve confessed.

“God, punk! Pay attention,” Bucky groused, swiping both hands through his hair.

“Who’s (Y/N) again?”

“She’s the girl,” Bucky explained.

“The girl?” Steve asked, still not quite understanding.

“The girl,” Bucky emphasized.

A look of realization finally dawned on Steve’s face. “(Y/N)? The girl you’ve been texting?”

“YES!” Bucky exclaimed emphatically. “For a smart guy, you can be pretty dense.”

“Wait, how?”

“I was helping Parker with some schoolwork, and she’s his neighbor, apparently,” Bucky answered.

“She’s Peter’s neighbor? In Queens?”

“Did you have a stroke or somethin’?” Bucky wondered. “Yes, in Queens. Next door to Parker.”

“You didn’t tell me she was in New York,” Steve said, a hint of hurt in his voice.

“I didn’t think it mattered at the time,” Bucky admitted. “It wasn’t like I ever planned to meet her in person.”

“So, what now? Did you ask her on a date?”

“What?!” Bucky asked in disbelief. He goggled at his best friend like he’d grown a second head. “What part of ‘I fucked up’ didn’t you understand?”

“It couldn’t’ve been that bad,” Steve soothed. “What exactly happened?”

Bucky recounted the whole bungled interaction, down to every gory detail.

“And you just stood there, staring at her?” Steve asked, slightly wincing in secondhand discomfort.

“With my mouth open and everything. Like I was a goddamn fish out of water,” Bucky stated candidly. He scuffed a foot across the linoleum floor. He could feel the anxiety building inside him again.

“Maybe it’s not as bad as you think?”

Bucky pulled his phone from his pocket and thumbed to the messaging app. “Parker said, and I quote, ‘Way to make it weird with Miss (Y/L/N).’”

Steve looked nonplussed. “H-how?”

Bucky threw up his arms in defeat. His hands landed atop his head, and his fingers snaked into his hair, pulling at the roots. “I dunno what happened! I realized I was actually talking to (Y/N), and my insides turned to jelly!”

Steve stepped forward and guided Bucky’s hands from his hair. Empathy and compassion filled his crystalline eyes.

“How...how do I fix this, Stevie?” Bucky whimpered softly.

Steve sighed. “I don’t know if it can be fixed, but you need to talk to her.”

Bucky blanched at the thought. “I-I-I can’t,” he stammered.

“Why?”

“I like what we have,” Bucky explained. “I like that I’m just James from Brooklyn with her.”

His mouth thinned as he picked at his flesh hand’s thumbnail. “Plus, if I tell (Y/N) who I really am, she’ll judge everything going forward on today’s meeting.”

“You really like her, huh?” Steve queried.

“Well, yeah,” Bucky answered, blushing a bit. “She’s pretty great.”

A smirk lifted at the corners of Steve’s mouth. “No, I mean, you really like her.”

Bucky’s blush deepened. “I don’t-I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

Steve huffed a small laugh, faintly shaking his head. He held up his hands in mock surrender. He took a step closer to his best friend. “Whatever you decide to do- whether it’s to tell her the truth or just suss out the situation- just talk to her.” He placed a hand on Bucky’s right shoulder and squeezed gently. “Don’t wait too long, though, and miss your opportunity. You’ll be kickin’ yourself.”

Bucky nodded his head in agreement. “I know.”

“Everyone deserves good things to come to them. You most of all, Buck.” Steve squeezed one more time before dropping his hand to his side.

Bucky blinked rapidly at the sentiment, trying his best to keep the emotion out of his eyes. He smiled. “Thank you, Steve. For everything.”

After a long shower to help himself unwind and wash away all the stress of the day, Bucky was sprawled out on his bed in a t-shirt and loose-fitting sweats. His phone was in the palm of his hand, and his heart was doing flip flops in his chest. His anxiety was gradually spiking, undoing the purpose of the earlier shower. It had been nearly two hours since he charged out of (Y/N)’s apartment. Why hadn’t she texted him?

Before he could overthink it more than he already had, he punched in a text and initiated the conversation.

Bucky Hey, doll. How was your day?

He stared at the screen of his phone, willing (Y/N) to reply.

He watched the words go in and out of focus as he continued to observe the unchanging text thread. His right palm was beginning to sweat.

Several minutes passed before Bucky gave up and threw the phone to the bed. He tapped his fingers in a rhythm against his thighs to keep them occupied, only to find himself crossing his arms across his chest moments later. Seconds afterward, he uncrossed his arms, balling his hands into fists. He reached for the book on the nightstand, hoping for a distraction from the silence of his phone.

He was inevitably waiting for a text he knew wasn’t coming.

Bucky consciously tried to read the words on the page, but his mind kept drifting. (Y/N) was smart. She had obviously put two and two together, and she was currently composing a polite yet firm text dismissing him.

He couldn’t take it anymore. The silence was maddening!

He shoved the bookmark back in the book, tossed it on the nightstand roughly, and got up from the bed to start pacing. Periodically, his hands would find their way into his wet locks, tugging ever so slightly.

After what seemed like the twentieth circuit around the bedroom, a soft buzzing came from the mattress top. Bucky rushed toward the bed and retrieved the device. He clutched it to his heaving chest before exhaling loudly.

Moment of truth, he thought.

He raised the phone to see the screen.

(Y/N) Hey, sorry! I must’ve dozed off while taking my bath.

(Y/N) Didn’t mean to leave you hanging!

A weight lifted from Bucky’s shoulders. She hadn’t purposely meant to ignore his text. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Bucky Don’t worry about it.

(Y/N) I guess I was more tired than I thought.

Bucky Should I let you go?

(Y/N) No, no...I can chat.

Bucky So, how was your day?

(Y/N) It was good. The subway was on time this morning. Timmons wasn’t too much of a pain in the ass, even though we are in the middle of putting together a huge, new account.

(Y/N) I had dinner with Robyn at Penelope to discuss centerpieces for the wedding.

Bucky held his breath as he watched the ellipses blink on his phone. This is it. This is where (Y/N) let him down easy.

(Y/N) Then, I came home to a hot bath and a bottle of wine.

Bucky reread the last text three times before it sank in that (Y/N) hadn’t mentioned anything about running into him. Maybe it really was okay.

(Y/N) Oh, and I met my first Avenger today.

There it was. That’s what Bucky had been waiting for. Butterflies erupted in his stomach and flapped slowly up to his chest. His thumbs gracelessly typed out his message.

Bucky Oh, yeah? Who’d you meet?

Bucky tried to calm his breathing as he anticipated (Y/N)’s reply.

(Y/N) It is was something like Bunky or Borky. The one with the metal arm.

Borky?!

Bucky You mean Bucky?

(Y/N) Yup. Thats the one!

Bucky Well…???

(Y/N) He was absolutely adorkable!

Bucky Adorkable? 🤔

What the hell does that even mean? Bucky wondered, gripping his phone a little tighter.

(Y/N) You know, adorable but dorky. Adorkable!

Bucky Oh.

(Y/N) He wouldn’t stop shaking my hand when my neighbor introduced us and he was just staring. he almost dropped my groceries all over the kitchen because he wouldn’t stop staring.

Bucky Wait, your neighbor knows an Avenger?

(Y/N) Pssh! Im pretty sure hes an avenger too!

Bucky What?!?! 😳 Which one???

Bucky’s heart started galloping as he read (Y/N)’s words. Did she know about Parker?

(Y/N) hes obviously spiderman

Oh, shit! She did.

Bucky How do you figure?

(Y/N) same height/build...ive listened to interviews with spiderman...sounds just like peter...he has an “internship” at stark industries...and i saw peter climbing up the side of our building once in the spiderman costume

(Y/N) spiderman is peter parker

(Y/N) dont tell anyone i told you though...its a secret

Bucky How much wine have you had, doll?

(Y/N) 1 or 2 glasses y?

Bucky chuckled at (Y/N)’s obliviousness. She was quite “adorkable” when she was drinking.

Bucky Your grammar has gone to shit, and you think your neighbor is Spider-Man.

(Y/N) grammar schwammer and he is

Bucky threw his head back in a full laugh. He was suddenly glad he took Steve’s advice and texted (Y/N). She really wasn’t bothered he’d made a fool of himself earlier. At least, not with a little wine in her.

(Y/N) Like borky, you should have seen borky barnes! he turned red as a tomato when he almost dropped my stuff...i think someone was smitten

Bucky’s stomach rolled when he noticed the subject change. She wasn’t going to let it go.

Bucky Can you blame him? I bet you’re cute as a button.

(Y/N) well obvi...i feel bad though...i kinda gave him a hard time for calling me ma’am...i regretted it the sec it happened...he kinda stormed out...i know i hurt his feelings

(Y/N) he was just being polite cuz you know- manners

Bucky What would you do if you saw him again?

Now was his chance to see where he stood. To know if he even had a fighting chance.

(Y/N) probably apologize profusely then ask him out for a cup of coffee

Bucky You’d ask him out for a cup of coffee?

(Y/N) y not? hes easy on the eyes and when those baby blues are locked on you-its hypnotizing

And just like that, Bucky knew he was back in the game.

10:37 pm- later that night

Bucky Hey, dipshit. (Y/N) knows you’re Spider-Man.

Parker

Chapter Four | Chapter Six (Part 1)

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willowbleedsonpaper · 4 years

Text

Ron was right

Theo Nott x Reader

W.C. : 3043

Requestd by @herstory-study: Ok I kid you not(t) another idea just popped into my head.. I hope you like it... the gist of it is Theo and the reader have that relationship where they are best friends but also dating but nobody can tell bc they’ve always been super close so I imagine like a bunch of pple (including the twins) have placed bets on whether or not they are dating and I just imagine one day they come back from a date and pple in the background are either groaning/cheering cause they got $ u can take it from there

A/N: I hope you like it, Puff! Feedbak and reblogs are very aprecciated. Happy reading.

*Not my GIF. Credit to the creator.*

It had been a quiet day the first time Theo noticed you. Grey clouds move fast in the evening sky, the light breeze comfortable for every student out in the courtyard to show their house pride and wear their scarves around their necks. His friends talked about the Golden trio and what had they done that week to ruin their mood. Nothing new really. Theo never added much to those conversations, what was the point of complaining about something when you could ignore it. He too was bothered by Potter and his friends adventures and misadventures, but Draco and his friends weren’t the target. But that was just the way Theo saw it.

“Wait until I write my father,” grumbled Draco, sitting in the middle of the bench where Theo had been sitting with Blaise. “ Potter is going to regret it.” he said with a huff.

Pansy arrived just a second after he ended rambling, rolling his eyes as she sat on the grass without a care about her robes. She gave a pleading look at the other boys as she cocked her head towards the Slytherin prince. When neither one of them said anything she scoffed glaring daggers at both before she smirked “Draco darling, Why don’t you tell Blaise and Theo here what Potter did. I’m sure they’d love to hear it.”

Blaise’s protest died down on his tongue when Theo shut his book close “No need.” he said, looking straight in Pansy’s eyes “We saw it all.”

And it was true, it was hard to miss one of their disputes when they shouted at each other, standing at opposite extremes of the hall as the crowd gathered to witness the latest drama between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

“Doesn’t matter if they know.” Draco said desperately, leaning to rest his arms on his knees “I already have a plan for them to know their place. And plan B in case that one doesn’t work.”

“Maybe you should try plan D for dumbass.”

They all turned around to the large tree, their gazes lowering to the base of it. There you sat, an annoyed look on your face as you straightened your robes and stood. Your movements were sharp, taking your bag on your shoulder as you stormed away from them, all of them in a state of shock to even try to stop you.

“Who does she think she is.” muttered Draco, already jumping to his feet when Theo placed a hand on his chest.

“Leave this one to me.” he said lowly, his eyes never leaving your form as you walked away. Draco hesitated but gave him a slow nod as he sat back down.

Theo smiled triumphantly, hiding his face quickly so no one would see him and his true feelings. He took off and ran after you, keeping enough distance so you would walk away from the eyes of his friends.

He kept running, your back facing him as he came to a halt. “Hey!” he yelled, your eyes glancing back at him as you picked up your pace. “Wait, stop.” he yelled again, catching up with you as he stopped in front of you.

“What?” you said sharply, looking down at his hunched form as he breathed heavily. You raised an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms over just your chest as you leaned back. “ Don’t tell me, Draco sent you to do his dirty work?”

“You…” he smiled, trying to keep in a laugh as he shook his head “You just called him a dumbass.”

You frowned, taking in the boy in front of you. Well kept brown hair, milky skin and the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen, his smile reaching his eyes as he stood to his full height.

“Aren’t you his friend or something?” you asked confused.

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked around. “Even I can get annoyed at him.”

You squinted your eyes, eyeing the boy before you looked up at him “Who are you?”

He extended his hand with a smile, one you hesitantly took “Theodore Nott, but everyone calls me Theo.”

You raised both your eyebrows, shaking his hand with a nod “Right.” you said “Well, if you’re not here to avenge your friend…”

“I’m not.” he smiled as you mirrored his look.

“Maybe you’re not a dumbass.” you told him, staring into each other's eyes before you realized you had been in silence for too long “I’m going now.” you turned on your heel, resuming your walk to a more quiet zone where Slytherins weren’t complaining when his voice made you stop.

“You didn’t tell me your name!”

You turned to see him with a smile, a glint in your eyes as you said “Goodbye, Theo.” He stared at you as you disappeared in the halls of the castle, breathing out a laugh as he returned to his friends.

It was difficult to not think about you after that. Your two minute interaction had him wondering more about you, who you were, what did you like. He started to pay more attention to you after that.

He thought getting your name wouldn’t have been a difficult task. He felt like the detective he read about when he was younger, sneaking in the middle of the night to behind his father’s back to read the muggle novel he got his hands on not a while ago, reading until his eyelids could barely stay open with only the moonlight to accompany him. He wanted to feel the rush of Sherlock Holmes, and he wanted you to be John Watson. But as he actually tried to get something about you without interacting with you he realized why everyone praised Holmes so much, it wasn’t an easy job.

You always seemed to be with someone, but in utter silence. Muttering a few words with the people around you as you always had something better to do. You were the mystery he couldn’t get out of his head, the thought that kept him up at night, the dream that had him drifting away as his friends talked. He wanted the honor of being your friend.

****************************************

You worked on your herbology research, a pile of dusty books at your left side as you read the one opened before you. Your study partner was someone gathering more information, probably found someone and got stuck in the chat. Nothing new, really. You were used to initiating the study date with your partner and ending it alone.

You felt someone walking behind your back. Expecting to hear your partner’s voice, your head snapped up at the sound of someone else.

“So,” said Theo Nott, taking the chair next to yours with a proud smile on his face “How are you, Y/N?”

You dropped your quill on the table, tilting your head with a curious look “Who told you my name?” you asked.

“It’s written on your parchment.” he pointed towards your handwriting on the upper part of the paper. “I got to say, it was difficult. Not many people really know you, you're like a ghost in the castle.”

“Maybe to the people you asked, I am very well known here.” you said daringly, and he nodded. “Well you know my name, you can leave now.” You took your quill back up, following the line you were previously reading with your finger when the thudding sound against the table made you raise your head slowly with a glare. “What are you doing?”

“Homework.” he said simply, opening a book as he silently began to read. Not once looking back to you, not saying another until he finished. Taking his things inside and wishing you goodnight, leaving the library without another word.

It became a routine after you realized he wouldn’t give up. He would always show up, sitting on the chair he did that first night and working on his homework. There were times when you would get there and he was already sitting, books scattered all over the table until he saw you, moving his things to make some space for you. He didn’t bother you, so you allowed it. His presence warm and welcoming as you studied, you even helped each other sometimes.

A year had passed by since that night, and you didn’t realize when you started to think about him as a friend. The only person you actually felt comfortable calling a friend. He had been there for your happy days, your rough days. He took genuine interest in you. Telling you about him and his life, sharing his candy and food as you walked through the castle side by side. He asked you about your life before Hogwarts, how was your childhood with a muggle parent. You told him all about your past school, how you lost your friends through the years as you never got to see them and you couldn’t explain your sudden change of school and life. Theo became your best friend and you couldn’t be more happy.

“What are you doing this weekend?” he asked you.

“I don’t know.” you shrugged, putting a raspberry in his hand as you ate one “Sleep sounds good.” you said with a smile and he laughed.

“Are you sleeping for two days straight?” he said in disbelief, and you scoffed hitting his face with another raspberry.

“Is that a challenge?” you dared, sticking you tongue out to him.

He scrunched his nose, catching the berries in his mouth until you stopped “Stop, your Gryffindor is showing.” he said with a fake look of disgust. You only laughed, shaking your head as you drifted back to his question.

“I’m not doing anything, then.” you commented, waiting to see what he had to say.

“Do you want to go to Hogsmeade?” he asked simply, your heart beating fast in your chest in both nervousness and excitement. But once you saw the carefree look in his face your heart dropped. Why were you feeling that way?

“I don’t know.” you said, trying to put the hurricane of emotions inside you at ease “I’ve never seen the fun in going.”

“That’s because you’ve never been there with me.” he said with a smile, tilting his head with a sigh at the hesitance in your face “C’mon, Y/N. You’ve told me you have never been with your friends…”

“They’re not really my friends.” you corrected with your lips pursed “They hardly are the people I hang out with. They’re just there in a silent agreement of company.”

“Am I not your friend?” he asked and you knew you had already lost the small debate.

“You know you’re my best friend.” you said with a small smile, one he returned as he held your hand, a warm tickle in your hand where his skin touched yours.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll go get you from your common room.” he said and you nodded, praying that the emotion flowing inside you was slipping in the look of your face.

Little did you know that Theo was feeling exactly the same. His stomach was doing flips inside of him as you smiled at him. He wanted so bad to tell you it was a date, that he had just asked you out on a date but you had just said it, that word that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You’re my best friend.

Maybe he had been in the beginning, but not anymore. Or maybe he was, but he didn’t want to be your best friend.

Many had noticed how the Slytherin and the Y/H/H had grown closer over the past year. Theories of what was the core of their relationship were made. How did Theo Nott get close to you? Did you have a deal no one knew about. Where you friends, partners, lovers. No one knew, and neither did you.

The weekend arrives and just as promised Theo walked you from your common room to Hogsmeade, hand in hand as you talked through the snowy streets full of students.

You were oblivious to the crowded mess, talking inside a bubble no one could bother you. Not even the redhead pair that stared at you as you walked past them.

"Are you seeing what my eyes are seeing, George?"

"We wouldn't be twins if I wasn't, Freddie."

*******************************

"MAKE YOUR BETS, MATES!" yelled George from the top of the table in the middle of the Gryffindor common room.

"Our lovely Y/N."

“Friends"

"Or lovers."

"With none other than Theodore Nott."

They said, finishing each other's sentences with the invisible link the pair shared, that invisible string that made them shout the exact same words at the end. They wore grins on their faces as more bets were placed.

"What do you think, little brother?" asked George jumping form the table

"Friends or lovers?"

Ron rolled his eyes, turning to Harry who was already making his bet with a smile in his face. Ron scoffed "I don't care about snakes business. They can be whatever they want." he said bitterly.

"Someone jealous?" taunted Fred as Ron turned with a red face to his brother.

He angrily pulled some coins from his pocket, slamming them in Fred's hands as he muttered "Lovers."

*******************************

You had the time of your life at Hogsmeade. Theo was right and you told him so when the sun started to set, a few stars shining on the sky as you walked back to the castle. He smiled, hugging you closely with genuine joy in his face as he promised to take you again on the next trip there.

However the next day, the murmurs and eyes from everyone in your year followed you everywhere you went.

You were never shy, but the constant attention had you on edge the entire day. Finding refuge in the far table of the library, hidden in between the shelves where the only source of light was if you had a candle with you.

You stayed there until late, waiting until the library was practically dead, you doubted madame Pince was still there, but you could never know. You had made it to the end of the day.

"What are you doing here?" Theo's shushed voice came from behind you, his eyebrows scrunched together as he sat next to you, closer than he usually did.

"I'm hiding." you whispered.

For a moment his stomach dropped at the thought that you might have been hiding from him, that he might have let something slip on your day together and you knew how he felt. But you started ranting about your day and the looks you received from everyone and he understood, he had gotten the same looks all day long.

"Don't worry." he murmured, opening his arms for you and you leaned on his side. "Draco probably said something about you again. I'll talk to him later" he sighed and you chuckled.

He looked down to you, a loving look in his eyes as you kept chuckling. How could someone be so breathtaking just by doing such mundane things like leaning against someone and talking? Since the first time he saw you he knew you were beautiful but, Merlin, now you were gorgeous.

"He is never forgetting about that, is he?" you laughed. Staring at the table, you frowned when Theo didn't say anything.

You turned your head up to him, finding him already looking back at you. You didn't realize when you had leaned so close to him, his breathing blowing softly against your face as you gazed into his eyes. The little flick in them waking up all the butterflies in your stomach as you could have sworn his eyes moved to your lips for a fraction of second.

You froze, realizing what that could mean when you felt him lean closer to you, his eyes closing before someone cleared their throat behind you, making you jump apart from one another.

"The library is about to close." said professor Snape, looking at you with a glare before he settled his eyes on Theo. "Take your friend with you Mr. Nott. Directly to your common rooms." he said painfully slow.

You both nodded, clumsily taking all your stuff as you walked around him and practically ran out of there. No one said anything, your eyes on the floor as he walked you to your common room.

"I'm sorry." he said once at the door handing you your books, your hands brushing against one another, making the blush in your face deeper.

"No, I… You don't have to apologize." you stuttered before the words left your mouth.

Heavy silence settled again between both of you, the tension making your stomach turn as you wished your feet would move and get you out of there. Of course, they had other plans.

Theo wished you goodnight in a mumble, turning around and walking away just as you dropped your books on the floor, calling his name.

"Yeah?" he asked, never meeting your eyes. You felt your mouth go dry, your hold in his wrist loosening as you breathed heavily. You brought your hand up to his cheek, smiling as he leaned in. He had closed his eyes and you ran your thumb across his cheek bone, waiting until he looked back at you. You started to lean in, his eyes widening as he realized what you were doing. His smile widened, cupping your cheeks as he closed the space between the two of you in a soft kiss. His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours with a smile that reached his eyes.

"Remember when I told you I wanted you to be my Watson?" he breathed out with a smile "Well, I'm not so sure anymore."

You chuckled, moving to kiss his cheek as you rested your head on his shoulder "Funny, I always thought Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were lovers." you whispered in his ear. He smiled at you, kissing you once more.

Completely unaware of the audience not so far away, hiding behind a wall with wide grins. "Ron was right."

TAGS: @fanficflaneuse @nebulablakemurphy @lupins-sweater @accio-rogers @gloriousrebelrunaway @slytherinprincess03 @not-today-anxiety @strawberriesonsummer @infinity1o1 @haphazardhufflepuff @deafgirltingz

#theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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ghostburs-blue · 4 years

Text

Gas Station Coffee

Summary: y/n and reid are literally oblivious lmfao, classic best friends to lovers trope

Warnings: angst if you squint, lots of fluff! some kissing though

Word count: 3.8k

a/n: i really hope you like this guys!! i’ve worked for the past 4 hours straight on this asjdhnaksdjh <33 this has not been beta-ed! im tired, please forgive me if you notice any spelling or grammatical errors. much love!

Spencer stepped into the bullpen with his favorite tan coat slung over his arm, eyes immediately casting towards the desk where he knew you sat. A small smile played across his lips as he saw JJ leaning over your shoulder, pointing and laughing at something on your computer screen. He watched, entranced, as you looked over at JJ and grinned before doubling over in fits of your own laughter.

He found himself walking towards you as if he couldn’t control his own actions. His feet brought him directly in front of your desk.

You glanced up at him, eyes beginning to sparkle when you realize who it was. “Spence!” You squealed, and it was all you could do to stop yourself from launching at him.

With an amused “woah!”, Spencer’s arms engulfed your frame, stumbling backwards ever so slightly. He buried his head into your hair, inhaling the smell of your rose shampoo.

You pushed at his body ever so slightly, signalling him to give you some space. He stepped back, taking in the sight of your blushed cheeks and slightly ruffled hair. Heat rose to his face at the thought of you looking like this under him-

“Spencer?” Your voice cut into his thoughts, and Spencer refocused onto you waving a hand in front of his face. You smiled at him, pure happiness filling your gaze. “JJ just left, you guys have a case,” you explained, laughing at the frown that now adorned Reid’s features.

“Ugh,” he groaned, pulling you in for a quick hug and forehead kiss before dashing towards the round table.

You stood, stunned, hand slowly rising to the top of your head. Did Spencer just give you a kiss? You thought, astounded. You sat down again, though you still felt like you were in shock. You eventually got to work, though the feeling of his lips pressed against your skin never faded.

15 minutes later, you noticed the team quickly leaving the conference room, everyone heading to their desks to grab go-bags before making their way to the airstrip.

You noticed Reid grabbing his duffel from under his desk, and you gently placed a hand on his bicep. He looked up at you, flushed.

Before you even said anything, he responded. “California,” he whispered. “We’re going to California.”

You tried to hold in your disappointment, but judging by the softness overtaking Spencer’s gaze, you assumed it was showing. It was his turn to grab your hand, and you ignored your heart beating furiously in your chest.

“It’s so far,” you whispered, sadness lacing your tone.

He offered a tiny smile in an attempt to comfort you. “I know, I know,” he replied. “But we can call any time I’m on break, okay?” He reassured you.

You nodded, fully knowing you never call him on breaks because that was the one time he could sit in solitude.

You pulled him in for a quick hug, punching his shoulder slightly as you break away. “Go be a hero,” you laughed, attempting to mask your dread. He chuckled in response before grabbing his luggage and walking away, not looking back.

You watched with a heavy heart, only turning when you heard Garcia calling your name, asking for help with some files.

A few days passed without any contact from Reid. You had assumed your regular position in Garcia’s office, ranting to her while playing with one of her many bobbleheads as she listened and gave you advice as you spoke. It was a comical sight, really; you lay in a chair that you had reclined back as far as possible with a pink feathery bobble in your hands as you spoke, while Garcia spun her chair in circles and gave you advice to your life problems.

The topic in question today was Spencer. To be fair, the topic for the past few weeks had been Spencer. Garcia was sure he liked you back, but you were too scared to make a move or ask him about it.

“Does he like me or does he not?” You exclaimed, frustrated. Penelope had stopped spinning, and seemed to be trying to tell you something. “Like honestly, it’s not hard to stop sending mixed signals!”

You quickly quieted down as you glanced over at where Garcia sat, eyes ghosting over the computer screen and widening as you met the faces of four very amused agents.

Garcia groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “$10 to whoever can guess who y/n was talking about first,” she joked, and the group laughed. You bowed your head sheepishly.

Thankfully, Reid wasn’t there; he and Rossi had gone back to the M.E. to get some tox screen reports. However, JJ, Emily, Hotch, and Morgan very much were there, and were very much trying to hold back their smirks.

You zoned out as you heard Morgan and Hotch discussing a possible unsub with Garcia, instead thoughts racing with what could have been.

What if Reid had been there? What would he have done? Would he have thought you were talking about him?

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts; you knew enough about psychology to know stressing about something that didn’t even happen was just setting yourself up for failure.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, though your cheeks still burned with shame every time you thought about what had happened a few hours ago.

You made it home fine, pushing the door open with your key in the lock. You sighed as you slid off the small bag you took to work; there were some extra files you needed to take care of that you weren’t able to finish at the office.

It was nearing midnight when you finally finished working through the pile of paperwork. Your eyesight blurred slightly as you tried to focus on the clock in front of you. Cursing, you realized you had forgotten to put in your nightly contacts.

Stumbling to the bathroom, you placed the tiny pieces of plastic in your eye and blinked in an attempt to clear your vision.

You groaned as the fluorescent lights in your bathroom suddenly became too bright. A hand came up to shield your eyes, making your way to your bedroom. As you fell onto the bed, your phone started to buzz next to you. You let out a sound of frustration as you grabbed it and lifted it up to read who was calling you at this hour. Your eyes widened as you read Spencer’s contact name in bold across the screen.

Scrambling to pick up the call, you exhaled a sigh of relief as you heard a croaking voice say, “y/n?”

Worry overcame you once again, however, when you noticed how tired and sad he sounded.

“Spencer? Are you okay?” You asked quickly. You did some math in your head before realizing it was well over 3 am in California. “Why are you calling me so late?”

You were met with silence on the other end of the line, permeated with the occasional sound of sniffles.

“Oh, Spence,” you whispered into the receiver, feeling your heart break. “What happened?” You asked, though in your heart, you already knew the answer.

“We couldn’t save him,” he quietly cried, and you could feel your body yearning to comfort him.

“Baby,” you whispered, not thinking before you spoke. Your breath caught in your throat, but Reid didn’t seem to notice or care. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

Reid was full on sobbing on the other end of the line at this point, and you felt tears rising to your own eyes as you listened to his heart wrenching cries.

You continued to whisper sweet nothings into the phone until he calmed down, still hiccuping slightly.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay baby?” You asked, worried for him and his well being.

“Can I video call you?” You could barely make out the sound of his voice, but you nodded quickly before realizing he couldn’t see you.

“Uh- yeah, yeah of course Spencer,” you murmured. In an instant, you received the video call request on your phone. You quickly accepted, letting out a small gasp as you met Reid’s red rimmed and puffy eyes.

“Could we please just-” His voice broke slightly, and your chest ached for the poor boy even more. “Could we please just stay on call? For- For the night?”

You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly. Reid asking to fall asleep with you over video call wasn’t unheard of, but had only happened a few times before.

You tended to stay awake until you were sure he was asleep, but you never told him that.

So that’s how your night ended, watching the face of the man you loved as he slowly drifted off to sleep across the country, instead of in your arms like he should be.

The case ended soon after that, the whole team opting to leave immediately instead of spending one more night in California.

You and Garcia waited like normal at the office for them to come back home. This time, however, you were a little extra nervous. Maybe it was the video call a few nights ago, maybe it was the slip up in front of your coworkers. Whatever the reason, you were antsy, constantly shifting your weight back in forth between your feet and fidgeting with your hands.

You were in the middle of a staring contest with the ground when the sound of the elevator door opening caused you to look up. A small smile spread across your face as you saw Penelope practically run towards Morgan. You gave a quick hug to everyone else, but faltered before you got to Spencer.

He offered you a tired grin, the eyebags prominent under his eyes.You frowned slightly, sizing him up. His clothes hung a little more than usual on his already lithe frame, causing you to tut disapprovingly.

“Mr. Reid, how much did you eat over the course of the past week?” You asked, crossing your arms across your chest. The members of the team who hadn’t already dispersed laughed, knowing Spencer was in for a scolding.

Reid shook his head, a smile making its way onto his features. He stepped forward and practically engulfed your body, catching you by surprise. “I missed you too y/n,” he whispered into the hug.

The team had a mandatory day off after every case they finish, meaning they could all sleep in as much as possible. This normally meant you would spend the night at Spencer’s apartment, waking up to the sight of his adorable bed head and sleepy voice.

This night, however, was much different. Reid practically never left you alone the whole way back to his apartment, whining when you attempted to remove the hand he had placed on your thigh while you drove the both of you to his apartment (you had deemed Spencer unfit to drive after the long flight).

Even when you fell asleep next to him in his large bed, his arm managed to snake its way around your waist, legs looping around yours.

The next day came and went; Spencer continued to be clingy and you continued to let him. You knew it was rare when he would let his guard down, and you wanted to make him feel as comfortable around you as possible.

The next morning you woke up, feeling more tired than usual. You picked up your usual coffee from your favorite hole in the wall coffee shop, sluggishly hauling yourself to work.

If anyone seemed to notice your strange demeanor, they didn’t say anything. You got through about half of the day before you realized something was wrong; you hadn’t seen Reid at all yet.

So, leaving the large stack of files that needed sorting behind, you set out to search for him.

You had almost given up all hope for trying to find him until you rounded the corner to Morgan’s office. You heard voices echoing, and you could barely make them out through the closed door.

You quietly creeped to the door, placing your ear against it as you strained to understand what they were saying. “But what if she doesn’t like me?” Your heart dropped slightly. That was Spencer, you were sure.

“Kid, you’re going to be fine. Just do what I told you to, and everything will turn out alright.” That was definitely Morgan.

He didn’t like you. He liked a different girl all along.

You choked back a sob as you quickly ran to the bathroom, pressing the back of your hand against your mouth to stifle any noises as you made a mad dash for a stall.

You stayed there, crying quietly, for at least 10 minutes. You thanked the Gods above that you had decided to wear minimal makeup that day.

You attempted to dry your face as best as possible with the toilet paper in the stall (gross, you know), before finally emerging from the bathroom.

Because your luck was just fabulous that day, you practically slammed into Spencer’s body as you were exiting the restroom.

The moment Reid took in your puffy and disheveled appearance, you knew you were done before. You tried to maneuver around him, but for such a skinny person, he was quite strong. He grabbed your arms and turned you to face him, gently lifting your chin with a single finger to meet his gaze. You almost crumpled right then and there.

“What happened y/n?” Spencer asked, voice soft and full of concern. Your mind raced to come up with a lie.

“My uh- my childhood dog died?” You offered weakly, internally beating yourself up. A childhood dog? You didn’t even have a pet growing up! You thought to yourself, making a mental note to get better at lying, especially to Reid.

Something shifted in his gaze, and he stepped back abruptly, letting your chin drop without his finger to push it up. Confused, you looked at him, only to find a cold stare looking back at you. You instinctively drew your hands around your body; you did it every time you felt scared in a situation.

You thought you noticed a flicker of something in his gaze, but you couldn’t be sure. Reid gave you a tight-lipped smile, then swiftly turned and walked away. You were left staring at his retreating figure, extremely confused.

The next few days were, to put it lightly, hell. You hadn’t texted or called him in forever, nevertheless actually spoken to him in person. It seemed like he was purposely avoiding you; you couldn’t figure out why.

At this point, you had had enough. You slammed your pen down on your desk, marching over to where Spencer sat hunched over some paperwork.

“Reid,” you started, coldly. He looked up at you, poorly masking his shock. You never called him Reid, ever. “We’re going for a walk, leave your stuff.”

You turned and headed to the glass doors without checking if he was following you. Sure enough, you heard the soft padding of his footsteps behind you.

You walked into the elevator, holding it open for Spencer to come in too.

When the doors closed, he turned to you. “So, will you finally tell me what’s happening?” He asked, clearly confused.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” You asked, still staring straight ahead. You could see him opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of the corner of your eye. He clearly hadn’t expected you to be so… blunt.

“I- uh- what?” He stammered.

You turned to face him with a no nonsense expression. “I said what I said. Why have you been ignoring me, Spencer?”

His face turned sheepish and red, and he ducked his head as he muttered something. You frowned, not catching what he said.

“Huh?” You asked him to repeat it.

This time, you could make out the words.

“Derek told me to,” he murmured, ashamed. You frowned, still not following.

“What do you mean?” You asked, the pieces not clicking together in your mind.

Reid sighed. “I asked him for girl advice…” He started.

Your eyes widened, and your hand flew over your mouth. “No,” you whispered.

At this point, you both had reached the ground floor of the building already and had exited the elevator.

Spencer’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

It was your turn to be embarrassed. “Remember when you saw me crying a few days ago, and I said my childhood dog had died?”

Spencer nodded.

“Well-” You started, only to be cut off.

“That was a lie,” Reid stated, surprising you. Before you could say anything, he went on. “You didn’t have a childhood dog, much less a pet of any kind. Your mom is scared of animals,” he said. You continued to stare at him with your mouth open.

“How did you…” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the question.

“You told me the first time we ever hung out outside of work,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “I remember things, you know.” You nodded, smiling to yourself slightly. “So what exactly did Derek tell you?” You asked, curious.

“He told me to play hard to get. You know, ignoring texts, not talking to you, etc.” Reid explained, and you nodded. You were going to kill Derek.

Spencer sighed, and put out a hand to stop you from walking. You turned to face him. “Look- I don’t know how to see this but I really like you. Like, like like you. A lot,” he stammered. You giggled slightly. It wasn’t everyday that you heard the famous Dr. Spencer Reid stumble over his own words.

“Spencer, I like like you too,” you laughed.

“Really?” He whispered, eyes hopeful.

“Really, you confirmed,” amusement present on your features. Without a second to spare, you leaned in and captured his lips in a perfect kiss.

You two broke apart after a few seconds; Spencer’s chest was heaving. Whether it was nerves or he was out of breath, he couldn’t tell.

You two walked back to the bullpen, hand in hand and happier than you’d ever been.

You cursed as you pushed through the glass doors, holding a hot coffee in one hand and an unwrapped Ring Pop in the other. You turned and looked for Spencer with a smile on your face.

You and Spencer had been dating for 3 years, and you were extremely content to spend the rest of your life with him.

You were currently wearing his extremely oversized sweater, the sleeves so big on you that they dangled past the tips of your fingers. You were also sopping wet from the rain outside.

It was a cold winter day in Quantico, meaning lots of rain. It was around 7 pm, and it wasn’t uncommon for the team to stay until 9 to finish going through and completing case files.

Spencer had wanted coffee, but you knew how much he hated the break room coffee. Oddly enough, Reid loved your local corner store turned gas station’s coffee. Even though there was a thunderstorm outside, you had made the trek to the store to pick up a steaming cup of joe (and a Ring Pop for yourself).

The beautiful sounds of pure laughter fell upon your ears as your gaze rested upon your very own Spencer Reid. His face was stretched into a wide grin as he gazed at you.

You made your way over to him before he grabbed the edge of your (well, technically his) sweater and pulled you towards him.

“I got coffee,” you waved the hot cup tantalizingly in front of his face, prompting him to lean in and kiss you deeply.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, and you felt yourself smile.

“I know,” you whispered back teasingly. You placed the coffee and Ring Pop down on his desk. Immediately, Reid pulled you into a warm embrace.

You two stayed like that for who knows how long, simply enjoying each other’s presence as you buried your head into his collarbone. He held you oh so tight against his chest, as if he was your shield against the evils of the world.

You leaned up and began to pepper his face with kisses, making him squirm and laugh slightly. You were glad the rest of the team was sitting elsewhere to finish their papers.

You suddenly noticed Spencer pull back from you, lifting you up and placing you on the chair he was sitting on.

You closed your eyes, frowning at the loss of your personal heater. Opening your eyes, you were surprised to see Reid wasn’t in front of you.

Looking down, you could feel your heart start racing.

Spencer was on one knee in front of you, a stupid grin on his face. Instead of a ring, he held your untouched Ring Pop in his hands, cradling it as if it were made of glass.

You gasped, eyes filling with tears.

“These past 3 years have been the best of my entire life, y/n,” his voice cracked slightly as tears streamed down his face. “I know this is a Ring Pop and this is out of the blue and you’re probably extremely unprepared-”

“Shut up,” you cut him off. He looked up at you in surprise. “What?” He asked.

“Shut up,” you repeated. You slowly pulled yourself off the chair, kneeling down to be at eye level with him. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss, one that you hoped would explain everything.

Your salty tears mixed together, creating a briny taste as your tongues clashed.

Spencer broke apart first, gasping for air slightly. “Is that a yes?” He asked, breathlessly.

You grinned, leaning back in. “Yes,” you whispered against his lips.

Reid slipped the candy onto your finger, making you giggle. “I can’t believe this is happening,” you laughed, pure joy flowing in your veins.

“Me too,” Reid admitted, causing you to kiss him once more.

A loud thud followed by a scream echoed throughout the room, causing the two of you to jump apart and look around, alert and ready.

Garcia stood at the entrance to the bullpen, a mess of files laying scattered at her feet. Her eyes darted between the “ring” on your finger to the amused look on your guys’ faces, causing you to laugh loudly.

You held your hand up, pointing to the ring, shaking it slightly. “I’m getting married!” You squeal.

Penelope matches your energy, running up to give you a hug. The sound of footsteps rings through the large room, causing you all to look up.

“We heard a scream,” Morgan explained, worry covering his features. You laugh, once again pointing to your ring.

“I’m going to be a married woman!” You exclaim. Suddenly, you and Spencer were both being bombarded with hugs, and “congratulations!” resounding in the air. Rossi clapped Reid’s back with a “so, a Ring Pop, huh?”, causing you all to laugh.

You looked up at Spencer’s face, smiling to yourself.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way, you thought to yourself.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #reader x spencer reid #bau x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #criminal minds fandom #y/n #reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #roo’s fics

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