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dccomicsimagines · 3 years

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My Business - Clark Kent x Reader

Requested by Anon - A superman x reader imagine with the prompt: "I found your nose! It was in my business."

Requested by warblinglion0 - Hi! Could I request a Clark Kent imagine please??

***

Clark closed his eyes against the blowing snow. He flew over the city, using his super hearing to guide him. The city was quieter than normal. The snowstorm had shut almost everything down.��

He sighed, swooping down to help a woman carry home groceries. “Thank you, Superman,” she shouted once she was at her building. Clark waved at her and took off into the sky again.

Most of his day was spent helping stranded people with the storm. He had already written his article about the impact of the storm on Metropolis’ sewer system. Perry could forgive boring content when the storm created a slow news day. Clark snorted. He bet Lois found some kind of amazing story in this weather.

He landed on the top of the Daily Planet. The cold air felt sharp in his lungs. It reminded him of winters at home. He looked out at the snow covered city, thinking of turning in. A cup of hot chocolate while watching that documentary he felt would give him an edge in a story he was researching. He felt warm already.

“Get lost, jerk.” Your voice hit his ears. Clark’s eyes widened in surprise. It was like he was subconsciously listening for you sometimes. Your voice always came to him in the moments he never suspected.

He floated into the air, searching for you. You sounded too close to be at your apartment across town.

“Stupid, country bum,” a man’s voice echoed near you. Clark heard a door slam. He flew faster before slowing when he found you trudging through the snow in the street. His stomach dropped at how underdressed you were. You didn’t even have a coat on.

He almost flew down to you, but he stopped himself. People couldn’t see Superman around you. Too risky. He quickly flew to his apartment only a block away. Changing into regular clothes, he made sure to pick up an extra coat for you before zooming back to you.

***

You wrapped your arms around yourself and cursed your situation. Why didn’t you bring a coat? Why did you decide to go the the club during a snowstorm? You shook your head, feeling the snow settled on your head. Everything was shut down. You shivered, crossing the street to make the long walk home.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?” Clark’s voice made you jump. You spun around, seeing him run over to you. Ironically, he was dressed for the weather. Funny since he couldn’t feel the cold. “Where’s your coat?” He had an extra coat over his arm, which he quickly wrapped around you. You slipped your arms in the sleeves, noting how warm it was.

A shaky laugh escaped you. “I found your nose. It’s in my business...again.” You tapped his nose before struggling to zip up the coat. Your fingers were already numb, burning from the cold. Clark shook his head, smiling as he zipped it for you.

“Come on. It’s too far for you to go home now. My place is nearby.” He wrapped a strong arm around you and led you home. “Now why are you out in this weather?”

He was so warm and his big frame blocked the wind. “Well, I got invited to a club by some friends of Lucy’s.” You bit your lip. “I thought I’d go, but then one of the guys started making fun of me when I didn’t know what...” You stopped yourself from spilling the embarrassing conversation. “Never mind.”

“You’re always getting in trouble.” Clark unlocked his building’s front door and held it open for you. You hurried inside, stomping your feet to knock off the snow. Shivers rocked your body, you could have swore ice was forming on your body.

“And you’re always popping up to help.” You rolled your eyes. “I never would have thought my good old brother, Pete, would ask you to keep an eye on me so much. Do you two even talk that much anymore?”

“We do.” Clark bit his lip. Pete Ross didn’t call him that much, but they always caught up when Clark went home for a visit. It was actually during one of those visits that Pete asked Clark to keep an eye on his younger sibling who got it into their head to move to Metropolis. Pete thought you were in over your head, and honestly, most of the time you were.

You pulled Clark’s jacket closer as you both headed to the elevator. “I mean there was that time where I was in that bad roommate situation, so you helped me move. Then I wanted to rent that one place for really cheap and you stepped in to show me how bad it was. Of course, then you came in with that offer to live with Lucy Lane in a nicer part of town.”

Clark blushed slightly. “Well, it’s the least I could do. I mean you’re practically family, (Y/N).”

Your stomach soured slightly. You were afraid he only saw you as Pete’s little tagalong sibling. Who could blame him when you felt so helpless most of the time? “I personally think it’s because you want to make up for breaking up my mud mask business in the fifth grade.”

He laughed hard, almost doubling over. “You were taking mud from the pond and mixing it with your mother’s perfume. It made three people break out in hives.”

“I had a warning label on it.” You smiled at his reaction. “And it was five dollars a bottle.”

Clark shook his head. “Ma actually bought one from you. She didn’t use it though. In fact, I think she still has it sitting in the garage.”

“Too bad for her. Lana swore by it. Said it cleared up her acne just like that.” You snapped your fingers, chuckling along with him. The elevator doors opened and Clark led the way down the hall to his apartment.

“In all seriousness though, you shouldn’t have went out with a storm on the way. The city shuts down during snowstorms.” Clark unlocked his apartment door and pushed it open to let you in first.

“The club was still open.” You wandered inside, flicking on the lights to take in the bland surroundings. The only personal items were a framed newspaper article and three family pictures of the Kents.

“Stupidly still open, yes.” Clark shut the door and locked it. “I’ll make some hot chocolate. Make yourself comfortable, (Y/N).” He took off his coat and shook it out before pulling off his shoes. You kept the coat on, still warming up.

Clark went into the kitchen and you trailed behind him. “Were you as helpless as me when you first moved here?” you asked suddenly as you took a seat at the counter. Clark blinked, turning to look at you while he turned on the stove.

“Yes. I had no idea what I was doing and I had a few tricky situations myself.” He smiled. “I’m glad I can help you not to make the same mistakes I did.”

You hummed. He turned back to start warming up the milk. “Of course it was easier for you. Being Superman and all.” Clark flinched, looking at you with wide eyes. You laughed at the sight. “I know. I know. We’re not supposed to talk about it. It’s the thing we know, but never speak of.”

Clark sighed. “I don’t think that made it easier for me.” He cleared his throat, turning back to the stove. “It was hard to hide my powers. To have some much noise around me all the time. Not to mention when I decided to become Superman.”

You watched him, noting the tension in his shoulders. Part of you wanted to go hug him, but you resisted. You didn’t know how he would react. “I remember the first time we knew for sure that you were something special. It was during winter break one year. You, Pete, and Tommy Johnson were trying to go ice fishing at the lake. I followed you because you wouldn’t let me come and I was being stubborn.”

“You fell through the ice because you walked on the thin part.” Clark hummed, getting out the chocolate mix.

“No one would have noticed, but you heard me scream.” You crossed your arms. The chill from the freezing water felt like a permanent scar every time you thought back on that day. “I went under the ice and I couldn’t find a way to get out.”

“I dived in after you.” Clark mixed in the chocolate slowly. You wondered if he was remembering how cold the water was too, even though he didn’t get cold. “I had to break through the ice once I found you. Pete and Tommy ran over to help. I let them pull us out. Tommy couldn’t believe I broke through the ice, but Pete told him it was thin there too.”

“None of us said anything about it, but you did save my life that day.” You took a deep breath, slipping off your chair. Taking off his coat, you were finally warm enough. “We always knew, but never really talked about it. I remember I tried to ask Pete to ask you to lift this big rock for me and he slapped my face.”

“He slapped you?” Clark spun to you, staring at your cheek like Pete just slapped you right this second. You chuckled and touched your cheek. It had stun a lot. You cried at the time.

“Pete was protecting you. Like I said it’s the thing we all knew, but never talked about.” Your face burned at the concern on his face. “I’m fine, Clark.”

Clark bit his lip, turning away to grab two mugs out of the cabinet. You snorted when you saw he had a superman mug. “Ma gave this to me. She thought it was funny.” He handed you a filled mug and turned off the stove.

“It is if you know.” You took a sip, licking your lips. “This is good.”

“Thanks, I learned from the best.” Clark took a sip of his own hot chocolate. “I was going to watch a documentary for work if you want join me? Otherwise, we can just watch regular TV, I’m not picky.”

You headed into the living room and made yourself comfortable on his couch. “The documentary is fine. I like learning.”

“I bet Mrs. G just rolled over in her grave at that.” Clark laughed. “I remember how you made her so mad that her face turned completely red like she was going to burst into flames.”

“Good times.” You laughed, relaxing as Clark sat down beside you. Shyly, he grabbed a blanket and covered you and himself with it. You hesitated before cuddling into his side.

Clark paused. You saw a mixed expression of emotions cross his face. “You comfortable?”

“Yep.” You took another sip from your mug. Clark relaxed and turned on the documentary. The two of you snuggled while the snowstorm raged outside.

***

The next morning, Clark was startled to hear eggs frying in the kitchen. He slowly got out of bed and was about to leave his bedroom until he remembered you. Quickly, he pulled on an old Smallville High t-shirt. No reason to scare you with his bare chest.

You were in the kitchen. Clark stopped in the doorway, his breath taken away. He had forgotten he had given you a shirt of his to wear. You turned when you heard his gasp. “Good morning.” You waved innocently before turning back to the stove. “I hope you don’t mind that I made us breakfast. I figured it was the least I could do since you let me stay here last night.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to send you out into the storm.” Clark sat down at the table. His body threatened to burst into flames. Why did you look so good in his shirt?

“You could have flown me home.” Clark watched you as you made a plate for him. He almost groaned at how domestic it was. Part of him wished you could be here every morning. However, the other part of him knew you were Pete Ross’ sibling. Off limits.

Clark cleared his throat. You set the plate in front of him. “Thank you.” He dug into the food to distract himself from the racing thoughts.

You laughed and made a plate for yourself. Clark tensed when you sat down right next to him. “So it’s still snowing outside,” you said, picking at your food.

“It is.” Clark glanced out the window at the winter wonderland outside. “I’ll have to insist you stay here.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have to insist.” You met his eye, winking at him. “But what are we going to do all day long?”

Clark took a big bite of eggs. His heart fluttered at your wink. “I do have to write an article, but after we could...I don’t know...maybe break out that game we used to play?”

“You still have that? And you have it here?” You gasped, clapping your hands.

“Ma sent it to me a year ago. Said I might need it.” Clark chuckled. He avoid mentioning that Ma only sent it after she found you out were moving to Metropolis. Come to think of it, Clark wondered if Ma knew something he didn’t. Then again, she always did.

You went into a story about when you all first played the game. Clark listened, remembering it himself. You, Pete, and Clark played the game for the first time in the basement of his house while there was a tornado warning. A warm fuzzy feeling came to his chest. Clark decided then and there that he would call Pete once you went home and ask him for permission to ask you out.

#clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #superman #superman x reader #superman imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert

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pinkchanelbag · 4 years

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it’s okay; stay

armin arlert x reader

wc: 4k

cw: angst, comfort, pain, childhood flashbacks? armin getting beat up </3 not proofread

note: yes i cried while writing this.

do you remember the days when things were so hopeless that not even he had a way out of it, and all he could do was offer eyes as big as sky-blue plates, and a hand under the table to hold, to anchor you to something when you so badly wanted to drift away. to anchor you to him.

this was how it was, and this was how it continued to be, and as the feeling of impermanence faded, as your bunk bed in the girls’ quarters filled with more personal belongings and you subconsciously scooted backwards from the edge of your seat, stopped standing on tip-toes, you sunk back into your life, and somehow, into armin. as you found more ways to manipulate your daily routine to fit in more time alone with him, you found that you were your most lucid when you were staring down at a pale palm that you held in both hands, tracing the countless ravines of warm skin and looking for patterns or shapes or words. sometimes his fingers twitched when it tickled, and sometimes you’d tell him what word you had spelled out into his flesh and he’d laugh before continuing reading whatever book his nose was so attached to.

the memories move too fast and are too painful. you try your best to maneuver away from the ones that most ache, but each path seems worse than the last.

you’d met him when you were wearing a pale blue dress that stopped at your knees. you only remember this fact because you remember the way it felt as you gripped the fabric close to keep yourself from crying out at the sight of your older brother and his friends kicking at a smaller boy behind a house. you were hidden away after a prompt threat from your brother to go unseen and unheard, because if you interfered or got the bullies caught, he’d make your life an indefinite hell. he’d done it before and he’d do it again, so you stayed out across the road in an alley, your dress turning into a wrinkled wreck between your tiny fingers. there you stayed until the toothless brainless boys had their fill, backing up and shoving shoulders in kudos before running off in a hurry. characteristically, your brother had forgotten to come back for you. you didn’t care. you hated his presence.

a tiny blond heap sputtered and coughed on the floor some distance away. tears sprung to your eyes. you didn’t care. you hated him.

the lump on the floor moaned and rolled over in an attempt at a first step to mobility, which was to no avail as he—the young boy whose scuffed face you now saw—stared up at the sky. it lasted all of two seconds before he gasped and scrambled onto all fours, injuries forgotten as his eyes whipped around the scene of the assault. they landed on something and scurried to it. you narrowed your eyes and watched him dust off a half-wrecked book, sighing and pressing it to his chest. a tear curled over your eye and fell down your chubby cheek. he was a good boy. he laid back against the back of the tall house, and you tucked yourself further down the alley to avoid sighting, but you still watched him, feeling like you’d discovered something sort of very precious.

the next time you saw him was when your mom sent you to the market with a basket and a few coins to buy vegetables for dinner. you were happy to be allowed on your own without the “protection” of your deceptively polite brother. you were confident and unbothered as you took your time to stroll through the vendors. and then you saw him, and some part of you short-circuited. somewhere on the other side of your brain, something launched into overdrive, and you suppose this is what brought your feet forward to stand before him as he eyed a booth of crystals.

“what are you looking at?” you asked dumbly. your voice and presence scared him out of his skin for a good few moments and he froze for a good five seconds before stammering his answer.

“um, i’m looking at, at crystals,” he said. you smiled a little, deciding you liked how he talked. you looked at the table before you, tilting your head curiously.

“why would someone pay for these? couldn’t you just go into the forest and find them yourself?” your tone was incredulous, but when you looked back at armin, he was bewildered to see genuine wonder in your eyes, expecting an answer. an answer from him.

he fiddled with his fingers. “well, these are different, i think. they come from all over the walls and they all have different names and stuff. you wouldn’t be able to find them around here, i think.”

you nodded in comprehension, again looking at the assortment before bending down and pointing to a particular one.

“i like this one,” you said, suddenly sheepish. you clasped your hands to the handle of your basket and looked down.

“that’s called amethyst,” he said shyly, eyeing the deep purple rock with white flecks as it sparkled in the sun. his eyes shifted to you and stayed there for a few seconds before he decided what to do next.

“i’m armin,” he said, and you looked up to see a small hand extended to you. your momentary hesitation had him stuttering, “um, my grandpa said it’s polite to shake someone’s hand when you meet them.”

you really smiled this time, and armin smiled with you. you put your hand in his.

“i’m y/n.”

even at your fresh age, you knew that what you found in armin was different. even when he introduced you to his friends eren and mikasa, who welcomed you without reserve and taught you about love different from that which was familial, compulsory, you knew armin was like no other. you were too young to make sense of it, but it felt like in some way you’d been friends all along but hadn’t met yet; as though it was only a matter of time before you met or maybe you’d met before and forgotten. a ridiculous notion, but you were young, and happy.

things were wonderful.

until, weeks later, as you trudged behind your brother and a few of his friends, who were bored and lazy for the day, you smacked into your brother’s back by accident, not having been looking in front of you. he barely acknowledged you, instead bumping you off his shoulders as he and his friends pointed at a grounded nest of baby birds. interested, you stood on tip toes and peaked over your brother’s shoulder.

“y/n?”

you froze at the soft, questioning voice that called on you from your left. of course it was him, this you didn’t need to look to confirm, but you did anyway. his face sunk in a way that tore at your heart, but still he looked at you with questioning eyes that fell between you and the bullies you now stood amidst, asking for an explanation.

you couldn’t give him one, but you mouthed an “i’m sorry” before armin gathered his wits and silently backtracked his steps before the boys saw him and found something to satiate their boredom.

you didn’t see him for ages, half because he was never around and half because of the shame that paralyzed you. how selfish of you, to accept armin’s friendship when you’d been a person who enabled his suffering?

it wasn’t until almost an entire week later that you saw eren by the river near the market. he sat with a bored expression on his face, head thrown back. he was the most prickly of the trio, and even though you were sure he wouldn’t be pleasant to you, your feet sped towards him.

“eren!” you called, but when his eyes met yours, they turned cold, and immediately he got up to leave. “please wait! please! let me explain!” you stopped a few feet away from him, and he looked over his shoulder at you, and the look on his face made you crumble slightly.

“there’s nothing to explain. if those are the type of the people you hang around, then we don’t want anything to do with you. do you even know half the things they’ve done to armin?” he sneered.

“i do,” you said quietly. eren scoffed, just about ready to leave, until he heard the next bit. “…because they do it to me too.”

from there on, really, it was easy to win back eren’s loyalty, as he had barred you from seeing armin until you put some sort of stop to the abuse he suffered at the hands of your brother. he had said that it wasn’t enough that you were helpless, and that you needed to find a way to help armin out of this, because you’re in a unique position to help and because that’s what friends do. and he was right, and you did it.

on one of those evenings when your brother’s irritating snores didn’t fill the room you shared, you sat upright in bed until the boy himself attempted to sneak back through the window—he was about as subtle as a loosed horse.

he almost jumped out of his skin when he saw your moon-illuminated figure.

“what are you doing!?” he whisper-yelled. your voice was small enough that you didn’t need to whisper, and this way, you were able to fein strength in your voice. part of you thought about how maybe the power was there all along, but your passive nature put not use to it until you made your own friends. armin introduced you to courage, you realized, and you couldn’t help but smile in the dark.

“i know that you sneak out to wreck the farm fences next to jonah’s house,” you said. even in the dark, you could sense his hackles rise.

“so?” he replied, daring you to say the words he thought you might.

“pa said if you did one more bad thing he’d send you to uncle’s ranch to work for the entire summer.” you saw his shoulders tense at perhaps the only thing that scared him.

“there’s something i want from you…”

“and?” he said, seething.

“…and if you don’t do it, i’ll tell mama and pa all the bad things you’ve been doing.”

—

“this really isn’t necessary…” his soft voice spoke, and your heart ached a little at hearing it. eren shushed him while mikasa stood silent as usual, and you stood some distance away from them and waited.

it wasn’t long before your brother’s gang came trudging down the path before the four of you. you could see your brother angrily muttering at one of the other boys who looked displeased. when they spotted you and the others, they made a small ruckus of shoving and incredulous sounds, but your brother had them under control in a moment before looking in front of him.

his eyes met yours first, and you saw the hatred. for once, you didn’t care, and even returned it gracefully, hands clasped in front of you and shoulders tall. he held your gaze for only a few moments longer before conceding and looking at the trio that stood in the middle of the path. eren and mikasa stood in front of armin, but not in his field of vision, ready to defend him. but it wasn’t necessary. after a few moments, your brother shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded begrudgingly, aggressively, at armin, without meeting his eyes. armin’s chest seemed to deflate slightly with relief, tension in his fists gone at the sight of his bully surrendering.

and then they left.

and as soon as they did, armin pushed past eren and came towards you with a smile. you spoke the words that had been close to bursting for the past week, that you wanted to say a million times over to him if it meant he could believe them to be true.

“i’m sorry,” you blurted, and armin blinked in slight surpise before he made eye contact with you, now right in front of you.

“it’s okay,” he said. the words were slow and soft as if he wanted them to materialize in the air for you to see. you couldn’t help it when your eyes teared up as you stared at his blue ones, so impossibly untainted and unnatural in their own right, different than the river or grass fields or pretty crystals or anything at all. for a moment you had a silly thought about all the crazy things armin had told you about the outside, none of them making sense and sounding so supernatural that they surely couldn’t be real, and for a moment you thought that if somehow they were real, these eyes, these impossible orbs were made from the same stuff. supernatural stuff, stuff of nonsense, and that they belonged out there and not in here.

and then he offered you his hand, and you cleared away the mess of over-mature thinking by resolving that he was here now, and you’d be by his side while you had him. for as long as you could.

you look upon him now. you look at supernatural eyes that peer down at mikasa, quiet, powerful mikasa, holding her back from the sound of boot hitting bone. his eyes tell her that this is what needs to happen.

you stand close to the wall, not innocent in the eyes of the soldiers around you but not as guilty as the titan shifter who sits on the floor with blood seeping into his mouth, a disappointed captain before him.

you haven’t been restrained—yet—because of eren’s claim that he more or less forced your hand, as he had done to everyone else when he planned his scheme. it wasn’t entirely untrue. eren told you what he hoped to do all that time ago, because he needed your help. he wouldn’t go to mikasa because of her priority for his safety nor to armin for his priority on peaceful resolve. eren knew you were neither emotionally attached to his wellbeing nor against necessary violence. you didn’t want to do it, didn’t want to act as a spy who gathered information for eren on his best means of communication, the weakest link the command for him to access, and all other needs. but eren told you he’d do it whether you joined him or not, and he wouldn’t ask anyone else, and that having a second hand to facilitate his intelligence would drastically increase his chances of seeing his plan through, therefor the chances of the survey corps making it out of this alive.

no one has come to talk to you yet, but you know that you’ll be dealt with, and you could already predict the questions. when they ask you why you didn’t find another way, you won’t have an answer. you’re sure armin would’ve found a better way and convinced eren of it, or that mikasa would’ve never allowed him to sneak out like he did. but you’re not either of those people, and so when they ask, you won’t have an answer.

for now, all you can do is memorize the faces and figures of your friends whom you haven’t seen in so long. you note mikasa’s hair that’s even shorter than before. the titan markings beneath armin’s eyes. eyes that you avoid desperately because they hurt to look at. they’re just as entrancing, but it’s different now. he finally made it outside the walls. and all that used to be nonsense isn’t anymore. now it’s just the way the world goes, vast and cruel and sometimes beautiful, and those blue catastrophes fit right in.

when he stood at the door of the aircraft and didn’t wait longer than seconds, mere seconds, before he reached out a hand to take his best friend’s, the man who’d turned him into a killer. a crushing truth for you to realize, and as such you can’t even bear to think of armin’s own feelings about it. and yet, he looked him in the eyes. and yet, he took eren’s hand, and in the way only soulbound people can, he spoke words into eren’s heart that only they two could know.

the knowledge of this alone is so much to bare that for the next night and day, you don’t dare go near them.

almost twenty-four hours pass and still all you can do is stare ahead at food rations on the table before you. the aircraft kitchen is small and has exactly three tables lined up for seating. two soldiers sit at the table furthest from you and talk in quiet murmurs while you sit alone, unable to eat.

the door opens and before you can even command your sluggish mind to take note of it, armin is sitting beside you. once you realize it, your whole body tenses. your head instinctually moves to look in his direction, but you stop it before it can, casting a sidelong look in his direction. there’s a book in his hand that he places on his other side. from your peripheral, he doesn’t look at you either. he stares ahead, but you can’t see his face to read what he wants.

“i’ve given you space.”

your entire chest tightens at the sound of his voice. he’s a man now, but somehow the soft timbre is as clear as it was so that “i’ve given you space” sounds not so very different from “i’m looking at crystals.”

“i thought maybe that’s what you needed. but now i don’t know. now i feel like you’re just avoiding me.”

breathing becomes near impossible. you watch you own chest rise and fall heavily and wonder how you can still feel no air in your throat. you can’t look at him. you don’t dare.

“y/n.” don’t say that, you think, the first thought you’ve managed since he got the jump on you. he turns to you then, and still you don’t look. “are you avoiding me?”

you tell yourself you won’t look, won’t talk, won’t acknowledge he’s there, but as soon as he asks you the question, you feel a reply formulating. you don’t have the ability to refuse him. you’re at his mercy, even if it’ll break you.

“i don’t know how to be around you,” you say in a choppy, breathless whisper. armin leans in to hear it, and now you can feel his breath, smelling of brown sugar and fruits from his lunch. at feeling him so close to you after so many months, you suck in your top lip as if it’ll keep you together.

“why not?” and he’s hurt. you can hear it. all his hurt seeps out his pours and all the holes in his body so that even if you don’t look into his face, you can feel it stabbing at your heart. guilt. guilt.

“i’ve caused you pain.” the words are too much, and your chin trembles uncontrollably. the door opens to let in two more soldiers who turn into the kitchen and begin rummaging through a drawer. you bow your head to hide the evident grief on your face. armin breathes onto your cheek and thinks and thinks.

“eren made you do it, y/n. it wasn’t your fault.”

you shake your head lightly.

“‘should’ve done more.” the two soldiers mull over their options of snacks for awhile.

“y/n.” how you wish he’d stop saying your name. “y/n, look at me.” deviantly, you shut your eyes, stiffening your face as much as you possibly can, because you can’t hold on much longer, not when he keeps pushing you like this. not in front of other soldiers, you beg him in your mind. and maybe in a way he understands, because it’s not until the pair in the kitchen have selected a food and walked out that armin raises a hand to your chin and delicately guides your head to face him. you suck in a breath and squeeze your mouth shut to hold onto the anguish inside you, and then you’re looking at him. the first of your tears falls when you see the concerned, pained set of his brow, his soft lips downturned like a sad pup. his eyes. they burn into you. they wither the fabric of your soul.

“y/n,” he says again, letting go of your chin. you know he can’t find words to say, because there are no words. no words for all that’s happened and all you’ve done. rather than speaking, he does something much worse.

he reaches into your lap where your hands are clasped by the fingers in an iron grip. panic fills your features as you shake your head fearfully at him, but he doesn’t exercise mercy on you as he takes your two hands into one of his, warm and scarred and you can’t breathe.

he pulls your hands to his own lap, and in a stroke of—all you can call it—madeness, he delicately pulls your hands apart and places one of his own on his lap, palm facing the ceiling. he settles one of your hands on his palm and nestles the other one underneath, as if guiding you to hold one of his hands with yours. immediately, you understand the words he’s delivered to your heart. your face crumbles, shoulders sag. you stare into his palm and trace shaky fingers across ridges where beneath skin lies bones. you feel each line that builds to make peculiar images and spell all kinds of words, that forms the illustration of a boy filled to the brim with pain and somehow exhuming only love. a beaten boy lying behind a house and staring into the sky, a boy whose eyes don’t really resemble anything at all because maybe they’re unearthly, an entire world unto themselves, a boy whose mere existence pains you because you can’t take his pain away and he’s far too pure to have endure so much. a good boy.

tears drip onto your pants and take over your cheeks in silent anarchy, because you can’t take whatever it is this boy is made out of. because he offers his hand to you and still meets your eyes after everything, and because his palm spells forgiveness.

your eyes find his, and say there in silent grief as your hands touch. his gaze is calm, peaceful, assuring. in it you see refuge. redemption. you think that maybe your soul can take it. you bare all of yourself to him in one look, but you trust him completely.

after some time, the two soldiers remaining get up and dispose of their dishes in the sink, casting side glances at the colossal titan and the rogue soldier who hold hands on the eating table. they take their leave.

you try to put it into words. and of course, of course there are none.

“armin,” you breathe. you inhale sharply, because finally it comes. “oh, armin…” you sob, slowly descending into his chest. his arms come around you, and he cradles the back of your head and holds your upper body against himself. you grip his shoulders for dear life and lay your face into his neck, finally, finally, weeping.

“i’m sorry,” you choke. your tears are hot and wet on his neck.

“it’s okay,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “it’s okay.” you shake your head as if to say it’s not and he runs a hand up and down your back as if to say it is. i promise it is.

he reaches behind him to pull one of your hands off his shoulder and hold it in his own, bringing them to his chest. your close contact makes it so both your hands press against both your ribcages at once, and astonishingly, you can hear two heartbeats.

“armin,” your body shakes in his embrace.

he squeezes your hand hard enough to hurt, but you squeeze back just as tight. as if to say to you, stay with me, and as if to tell him, i will. i will.

#this fic was written over the duration of like 2 weeks so sorry if it’s choppy!#nia.txt #nia.armin #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #eren yeager #attack on titan season 4 #eren yaeger headcanons #attack on titan spoilers #eren jeager x reader #armin arlert #armin arlet x reader #armin smut #armin headcanons #armin x reader #armin arlert imagine #armin attack on titan #armin aot

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witchyfrankincense · 3 years

Text

La Méprise (part three)

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: You start history with Spencer Reid in your university auditorium.

Warnings: violence, fight, reminding of trauma, season 13 spoilers, prof!Spencer, student!Reader, suggestive.

❁❁❁❁❁❁

Like clockwork, Spencer had turned around faster than you realized no one was following your steps next to you. Your heart dropped more than it already had as you understood that there was something, some nick, that you had failed to catch. But maybe you were the lost one here?

It seemed like Spencer had no doubts about his forthcoming actions – you watched him take quick, aggressive strides towards Mike. Seconds later, his tensed fist made contact with Mike's face. Spencer's act made you jump. Your usual first instinct would have been to yell, to interfere. But this time you didn't.

Right after the action, Mike was angrily pushed against the wall.

"You should stop talking," Spencer mumbled, angrily shoving him at the wall for the second time, pulling the man by his bunched-up jacket. Mike let out a pained groan and scoffed, later inhaling a deep breath of air. "Okay," he spat out. "Okay. Man."

"If you ever even look at me again," Spencer spoke, a harsher than usual undertone in his voice. However, soon after, he just went silent, staring at Mike for a few more moments before releasing him from his grip. You breathed out, shoulders dropping. You felt tiredness wash over you, obvious from all the stupidly scary events that had just happened.

After seeing Spencer turn back around and start walking towards you, you nodded and turned away from the sight of Mike silently chuckling and wiping his bloody nose. You opened the door. The fresh breeze of the outside air lifted your mood and you took a wide step outside.

"Can you still walk with me?" your voice reached both of yours' ears after you closed the door. "Oh, yeah. I'll join the team later," he replied, glancing in your direction. You both went quiet, still walking, Spencer seemingly following your lead of way. "Thank you," you suddenly muttered, placing your hands into your jacket pockets.

"Hm?" Spencer replied to your unexpected gratitude. You let out a small sigh, looking down at your synced-up footsteps. "Thank you for doing that. I would've punched the bitch myself, but, you know," you softly spoke. He smiled. "I'm not...usually a puncher," he weakly mumbled, shoving his hands into his pant pockets.

"I could've guessed," you joked, instantly frowning on yourself. "It's, not like you, you know, look like you wouldn't be able to, uh, punch someone, I was just—,"

"Joking. Yeah. To be fair, I agree," Spencer finished for you, making your shoulders drop in relief. You both let out chuckles. Continuing to walk down the asphalt path, you looked around the university campus. "Yeah, I usually take the bus to university. Quicker that way. I don't have the ability, nor want to sprint here at 8 a.m. Though, I enjoy a walk sometimes," you craned your neck to his side, sharing a random daily life thought. He nodded, straightening his shoulders.

"That is very true, actually, did you know that walks are extremely good for your well-being? Just 30 minutes every day can increase cardiovascular fitness, strengthen bones, reduce excess body fat, and boost muscle power and endurance. It can also reduce your risk of developing conditions such as, uh, heart disease, type 2 diabetes, osteoporosis and some cancers. Unlike some other forms of exercise, walking is, you know, free and doesn't require any special equipment or training," he finished talking, glancing at you brightly. You raised your eyebrows in shock and cheered.

"Wow! Spencer—,' you stopped, realizing your lack of knowledge about his last name. "Reid," he mumbled back, continuing to walk. "—Spencer Reid, the fact machine! Hey, buddy, does that head ever get too heavy for you?" you laughed out, crossing your arms and raising your head. "Hey," he mocked your tone, "That, is downright mean," he raised his voice playfully, his eyebrows furrowing.

You both bickered as you rounded the corner. And, you continued talking while walking down the lonely road. And while you pointed out the apartment building you were staying at.

And when you both said goodbyes after he had led you to the building door, a creeping feeling of awe kept trying to make you fall – to slip down the very stairs you built.

Five days later

Thursday.

"Spencer?"

Three mornings. After the boringly passed weekend, you had spent the last three mornings walking into the auditorium and longingly glancing at the seats – hoping to see the familiar curly-haired persona. But you never did, as each time you looked up, the seat was empty. Had you scared him off? Or maybe he thought you were weird? Many questions swarmed your mind constantly, and, well, there was really no hope of distracting it. Because the only person who could, wasn't showing up.

On the blessed fourth day, you walked into campus, sipping your new-bought iced latte with caramel, dressed in dashing black baggy jeans and 90's-esque top with a bunch of shiny silver jewelry all over your neck and hands, not expecting anything to be different. Because you got it, you understood – obviously he had a job to do, a terrifyingly important one, at that, and going to these lectures and meeting you was just a side mission – a pastime.

However, as you were making your way to the door, you noticed him – Spencer, standing near the entrance.

"Spencer? Hey, you're back," you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your sip of coffee and smiling. He returned the smile, nodding. "I am, uh, I had a bunch of cases, so, didn't really have time," he spoke, joining your stride to the door. "No, it's all good, Spence. I get it. Your job is extremely important, and I definitely don't expect you to, you know, always be here." Seconds later, you mentally cursed at yourself after realizing your accidental use of a nickname instead of his full name. "Shit—, sorry, I called you Spence," you pointed out quietly, glancing at him to watch his reaction. He, however, gave none.

"It's okay—you know, this teammate of mine, JJ, she's my best friend—, she also calls me Spence, so, yeah, you can, if you want," he mumbled out, a smile playing on his lips. "Wow, didn't know you had a girl best friend! I bet she's super cool," your voice rose in slight excitement.

You realized that you both had stopped walking.

"She is," Spencer replied wholeheartedly, smiling. His eyes then dropped down to your outfit. "You look pretty today, by the way," he pointed out, seconds later turning back to face the entrance and beginning to walk forward. Your mouth hung open in slight shock and it took you a good second to catch your expression, shake your head and speed walk towards Spencer.

He complimented you.

"Thank you," you mumbled after catching up to him, flashing him a grateful smile. He nodded. "You know, there's something I want to tell you," he suddenly spoke up, his lowered tone making your heart drop for no other reason than worry. "What is it?" you instantly asked, grasping the handle of your bag.

"Oh," Spencer lightly laughed, glancing at your direction. "It's nothing bad, I promise. I mean—I'll just tell you. I'll be in temporary teaching at this university," he mumbled. You raised your eyebrows, aiming your gaze at the ground. "Really? That's cool," you answered, smiling through your words. "So, you'll be my professor?" you blurted out a thought, regretting it a moment later.

"Yeah," Spencer chuckled back, looking at you. "Guess I will."

Butterflies suddenly erupted in your stomach, and your expression changed as you realized that. Shut up, you softies. You had no idea why you felt so warm out of the sudden, as all you did was think about Spencer being your professor.

Spencer being your professor? Did you have some weird professor and student fantasy?

You subconsciously shook your head and continued walking in silence alongside Spencer, deep in thought. However, a moment later your inner mind light bulb lit up and you lifted your head up, straightening your posture. "Wait, what trained FBI team member takes up temporary teaching for some inexperienced students?" you asked, shooting him a quick look. You saw him tense up, visibly sighing. He looked at you and weakly smiled.

"I really wished you hadn't asked me that," he muttered and you frowned. "Oh—I'm sorry, I didn't—,"

"It's okay. You have the right to know. I've—uh, I've been to prison. Falsely accused," he began, nervously correcting himself after noticing your intense stare. The both of you blinked in shock – you because of Spencer's sudden confession, him – probably because of the same thing.

"Of what?" you asked carefully. Spencer swallowed. "Multiple drug possession. Suspicion of drug distribution. Murder of Nadie Ramos," he muttered quietly. You felt your eyebrows furrow, mind running through all possibilities. "Oh."

"I was framed. But I still spent almost three months there. It was, uh, bad," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm sorry," you replied, feeling at a loss of appropriate words. Spencer quickly shook his head, smiling. "You don't have to be. That's why I'm teaching. I was recommended to do it. It's like a...break, I guess."

You returned his smile, looking back at the ground. "You start today?"

"Yeah."

You began walking through the corridors, making your way to the auditorium. "I bet you'll make a great professor," you quietly exclaimed, watching his somewhat anxious expression shift into a softer one. He chuckled. "Thank you. I hope I'll live up to your expectations." "You will," you muttered almost instantly, voice higher. Once again, seconds later regretting even opening your mouth. Spencer laughed again. Walking through, Spencer pushed the already open door further, stopping so you'd walk first. You thankfully nodded back to him and smiled. "Go sit," he suddenly mumbled behind you and you felt him place his warm hand on your bare lower back, softly pushing you towards the seats.

You inhaled harshly, barely containing the need to arch beneath his hand, and quickly nodded, hurrying to the stairs. Spencer visibly grinned behind you.

Hopelessly ignoring your previous spot, you hurried to the second aisle, quietly hoping that the seat you chose wasn't taken. After all, you were fully ready to support Spencer on his new-found teaching, you obviously knew him more than the other students.

"Hello, uh, my name is Spencer Reid," he started, voice raising on his last name. The others quickly settled down, slightly interested in their new professor. He was easy on the eyes. You grinned to yourself, still gazing at him. Apparently, Spencer did indeed feel your stare at him, so he looked back, a smile beginning to play on his lips as he breathed in. Moments after, he began going on about a whole cluster of themes and subjects he had decided to teach you all. You failed to take your eyes of him.

"Yes! So, this'll be it for today, don't forget to buy or get that book from somewhere else because it shares extremely good opinions and is very important for your understanding of what we're going through! And have a great day!" Spencer raised his voice to express his last thoughts to majority of the students who were already getting up from their seats and heading towards the exit door. You stayed, a wide smile on your lips as you noticed him glance at the leaving students with brighter than usual eyes. You stood up, fetching your bag and dropping it on your seat. You slowly walked towards Spencer, him finally looking back at you.

"See, you were great, Professor Reid," you jokingly exclaimed, seeing him laugh while packing his belongings behind the desk. "Thank you, Y/N, guess I am pretty great at teaching. I just, I don't know, felt as if you were all so interested in what I was speaking about, so, yeah, that was pretty great," he expressed, running his hand through his fluffy hair.

Your eyes subconsciously traced his hand, cheeks somewhat heating up, and you smiled. "Yeah, we were all pretty into your teaching. It's cool, your way of talking, I mean. But I think that wasn't the only reason why they were so immersed in you," you spoke, not realizing your accidental change of view. You both chuckled, Spencer seemingly deepening his gaze at you. "I wonder what that is," he teasingly replied, leaning down to get his case full of books and teaching material, however not turning his eyes away from yours.

You broke the eye contact, deciding that the conversation was way too teasing for your liking, and laughed quietly to yourself.

Oh, shut up, Ms. I-might-have-a-professor-kink, I know you'd love for this mood to go on for the rest of your pitiful life.

"I wonder, too," you mumbled, feeling warmer. Spencer returned a light scoff. "Well, you seemed to know it when you first brought up the fact, so, tell me. I'm clueless, Y/N," he replied again with a tiny bit of a smooth velvet tone in his voice and your heart almost dropped in fear of his words. Why was he so confident? "Well, I think we're both kinda', you know, aware?" you hesitated, looking back at Spencer. His tongue darted out of his mouth, wetting his lips and he stood back, sliding his chair under the desk.

"Are we? Am I?"

You swallowed, trying to regain your usual snarky mood, while also moving back to your seat and snatching your bag from it. "I think so, yes," you exclaimed, sighing and joining his stride to the door. You both walked beside each other, Spencer sheepishly smiling and looking straight ahead. He didn't say a word until you reached the door.

"Well, why don't you think about that like a good student and tell me tomorrow, hm?" Spencer suddenly spoke up, making you freeze in your step. You widened your eyes at his words and looked up at him. His eyes were shimmering. You both stopped walking and you nodded, feeling awfully hot at his title for you. He smiled and unexpectedly raised his hand, leaning in closer and brushing a strand of hair out of your face, pushing it behind your ear. You continued to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he seemed to enjoy your confusion.

"Goodbye, Y/N," he muttered and lowered his hand near his side, opening the door and closing it behind him. You began feeling weak, reaching behind blindly in search of the wall. After you had found it, you leaned against it, trying to regain your breathing.

What just happened and why did you like it?

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #smut #fluff #criminal minds #derek morgan #david rossi #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #love story #bau team #fanfiction #professor #spoilers

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jiikyu · 4 years

Text

Taste of Marigolds In Bloom

Herb of the Sun — Or Marigold was often used during the Middle Ages as a love charm. Carrying one of these brightly colored flowers was thought to bring love.

Though be warned for they are also poisonous.

Chapter I. You find a lost girl in Musutafu, unknowingly the experience ends up being a life changing encounter. Be it for better or for worse.

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘

All characters are 18+

Yandere!Mirio x Fem!Reader(AΩβ)

Y/N = Your Name

F/N = Your Full Name

E/C = Eye Color

H/C = Hair Color

Warnings: Yandere/Unhealthy Behavior + A large dose of sweetness in the beginning :)

Next Chapter Here❦

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘

Rounding the corner brings yet another flashing sign desperately trying to catch your attention. It’s noon and Musutafus streets are at their peak, narrow pavement overflowing with bodies. Winding your way through the mobs as you make your way to the small cafe.

You are meeting a friend in celebration.

With the perfect combination of brisk fall air and the sun warming your cheeks with kisses you ignore the tugging of your heart attempting to weigh you down.

You had done it.

Somehow you had qualified for the transfer over to U.A.

Though, it may not be the course you had dreamed of as a child — Being born quirkless had made that impossible — It’s a celebration none the less! One you were more than excited to share with your friends.

Even if deep down you know you don’t deserve the transfer.

You had hoped for the fresh air to be soothing before your meet up... But with the streets busier than ever the constant bumping of shoulders and bags is starting to take an edge on the nerves you’ve managed to keep under wraps.

Maybe it’s nothing, maybe it’s just your damned Omega instincts acting up, but the crowd just isn’t appealing anymore. A moment away from the constant onslaught is all you need.

Finding your way through the living maze to where you know Musutafus Park sits overlooking the city streets. The park is a well known treasure, covered in playgrounds and fountains it’s quite popular for tourist, it’s crown jewel however is the All Might statue centering it. Even local food stands patrol its borders for customers.

Just standing at the Parks sidewalk already leaves you with a calm.

That’s before you notice you are not the only one away from the packed crowd. Out of the corner of your eye you see the small figure, something you would have never payed attention too normally but something about the image just doesn’t sit right.

A young girl with silver waist length hair she stares unmoving at the edge of the amalgamation of people. You cannot help but notice the way her small hands clutch together, or the way her eyes follow each passerby, one by one. Almost as if looking for something — No, looking for someone.

Your blood freezes.

You’re probably wrong. Her family probably knows exactly where she is and they’re coming for her right now. Probably... You’ve already begun to make your way towards her.

You make sure to stop a few feet away before making yourself noticed.

“Hi.” Your voice is gentle, so much so it almost gets swept away in the noise of the city. And for a moment you think it had but her crimson strawberry eyes turn to you in acknowledgement before returning to the mob, refusing to look away. Your suspicions only grows at her behavior and you know you have to continue.

“My name is F/N. I go to U.A.”

At the mention of U.A. she turns to you fully... And you see the spark of hope in her eyes, though it only lasts a second before returning to one of caution. It’s strange for someone so young to have such a strong sense of perception. It has the alarm bells in your head growing louder.

All your studies and practiced lines start racing through your head.

“Here! I have my I.D. with me!” Reaching for your bag you fumble to grab your student I.D., once in hand you make sure to hold it out for her to inspect. “You can call me Y/N, what’s your name?”

The girl gives a long moments pause, looking between you and your picture printed on the plastic carefully before whispering a response.

“Eri.”

“That’s a pretty name.” You smile. “Do you know where your parents are Eri?”

“I don’t... live with my parents.”

Well shit.

Your classes hadn’t prepared you for this. What do you even say to that? Luckily you don’t have to wrack your brain too much before the lost girl continues.

“I was with my friend before I-I got lost in the crowd.” The girls hands fidget together nervously, lip quivering. “It’s... it’s just that I know he must be so worried right now.”

Her eyes begin to well with tears.

“It’s gonna be okay!” The words slide off your tongue without thought.

It is?

“We can wait for your friend here, how does that sound?” Eri stares at you with big strawberry eyes and you can only pray you sound as confident as the actors in movies. Not even close. Ignoring the thrumming of your heart you give your best smile. The girl gives a shaky nod before reaching up a hand to messily wipe away the moisture from her eyes.

...

You haven’t even waited a full five minutes before you notice Eri staring at something that isn’t the crowd. Not thirty feet away is a concession stand covered in pictures of sweets.

“I’m kinda hungry...” You lie. “Do you want something from that stand over there?”

Eri’s crimson teardrop eyes shoot up at you beaming. “That s-sounds good.”

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘

At least some luck finds your favor.

You walk right up to the register without having to wait in a line. Asking Eri what she’d like her small finger points to cursive words of the chalkboard menu.

Caramel Apple.

The concession worker hands the ruby red fruit to Eri’s waiting hand. She stares at it with childlike wonder before saying her third quiet ‘Thank you.’ and you then proceed to give your third ‘No need to say thanks!’.

You both take a seat on the open bench besides the food stand. A good vantage point to watch the endlessly moving crowds of people... Subconsciously your teeth find themselves digging into the wall of your cheek. Staring at the horde, it becomes all too clear just how hopeless your efforts are.

Had you made the wrong choice? Yes. Every second that passes is further proof of your error. You should call the authorities now...

You are not a real hero.

A heavy sigh leaves you. Gentle breeze moves through your hair, using the hand currently not holding your own sticky apple to tuck H/C locks behind a ear. You have yet to even take a bite of the your waiting apple before the unexpected happens. Absentmindedly looking over Eri’s head of silver strands you see a figure most definitely sprinting towards the two of you. And you think your heart just about stops in surprise.

“Eri!”

The young girls head swivels to the direction of the mans cry. Noticing how she visibly lights up your shoulders lose a bit of the suddenly built-up tension.

“Mirio!” Eri leaps from the bench abandoning your side to meet the person you can only assume to be Mirio. Unconsciously you stand as well, finding yourself puzzled by the sudden urge to stay by her side.

The man stops his marathon to get down on one knee, arms outspread to meet Eri. She runs holding her caramelized apple high above her head flying into the embrace, making sure not to get the sweet stuck in his sunshine blond hair.

You hadn’t even noticed how your feet moved on their own and now your standing just out of reach, just incase...

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry Eri! I looked everywhere!” The man sobs into the hug. You watch Eri’s small hand reach up and pat his shoulder in consolation. The blond pulls away from the hug to properly look at Eri. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay! Y/N helped me.”

At her words Mirios soft blue eyes fall to the next closet person.

You.

You take this as your cue to further approach, taking a step towards the two you notice it. The aroma of sandalwood and seashore reaches your nose, tied together by a sharp hint of lemongrass. The natural scent radiates off the blond man, but it doesn’t assault your senses, most likely with the help of blockers. You’re painfully familiar with suppressants and blockers, taking your own prescription that dulls your own scent and helps with heats. These days it’s uncommon to meet someone that doesn’t use some form of blocker, even patches or daily gummies are enough to take the edge away from hormones.

Even you have to admit it’s a rather comforting scent for an Alpha of his stature. One would have to be blind to not see he’s built like a brick house, well-defined muscles barely hide under the thin material of a white tee. And when he stands... It’s clear he towers over you.

A little unnerved by the size difference but you still want to be there for Eri, incase she needs you. Just as you open your mouth to speak your words fall silent. The blond having leaned forward, bowing his head towards you.

“Thank you so much for looking after Eri! I take full responsibility for not keeping a better eye on her in the crowd.” Mirio says this with while facing the concrete below, and you stare blankly for probably a little too long.

Oh.

“It was no trouble for me, really!” Unsure how to accept the show of gratitude you try to wriggle your way out. “It’s just, I go to U.A. and all... But I think it’s something anyone would have done.”

Mirio straightens his back at that, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape in surprise before turning to a hopeful smile, palm wiping away the moisture of his eyes. “You go to U.A?”

“Yes, but it’s nothing fancy-“ Your hand rubs the back of your neck sheepishly and your eyes are suddenly trained to the ground. Already feeling shame heat your skin at the prospect of admitting the course you somehow managed to snag in Japan’s most prestigious Hero School. “-I’m in the business course... I’m actually quirkless.”

You end your statement with a fake laugh, like it’s some kind of joke.

The joke must’ve landed flat because there’s only silence and you swear you hear your pulse quicken. Afraid to look up from the hole your eyes currently burn into the leather of your shoe. Afraid to see judgment. Steeling yourself for the worst you look up...

Deep pools of blue stare back at you, overflowing with warmth and wonderment — It almost takes you aback. Something swims just under the surface of those ocean eyes though you’re to dazed to notice. Mirio breaks the spell you’ve fallen under with a heartfelt grin.

“I think that’s something really special Y/N.” Those words just about short circuit the wiring of your brain. “That, there’s so many hero’s with quirks it’s easy to just let someone else step in and take care of the situation.”

“So I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Eri. For being the one to step in and save her.” His large hand pats the top the girls head, ruffling the silver locks playfully, the corners of her mouth upturning to a shy smile. “And for fixing my mistake.”

You’re completely at a loss, for words, for thoughts. It’s like this man just read your emotions and there’s nothing you can say.

So you don’t.

Instead a tear rolls down your cheek and your vision begins to blur at the corners. Promises of an oncoming flood.

Mirios smile falls.

You barely notice him take the first step towards you, a whimper threatening to escape your throat in anticipation of contact, but it never comes. The Alpha having stopped just out your reach, large hand twitching at his side. He doesn’t touch you. Instead the smell of tidal waves and wood flares to life. A soothing gesture usually done between courting mates, bonded pairs or the pacifying of a child. All of which you are none. Regardless you respond to it without thought, finding yourself calmed by the sea you’re able to take a breath. After realizing what he’d done you waste no time in hiding the evidence of the tear by smearing it under your thumb. Crushing it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” His voice sounds genuinely pained and you wonder... Had he used his scent subconsciously or consciously?

“No, I’m sorry.” You’re embarrassed at your own weakness. What a terrible display. “I should get going.”

“Are you okay?” Eri’s small voice breaks your thoughts, still holding the uneaten ruby apple in one hand.

“I’m fine don’t worry. I’m sorry Eri, I forgot I’m meeting a friend today, but I’m so glad I got to meet you.” You say crouching to her level, saying your next words in a quieter childish tone. “Just make sure Mirio doesn’t lose you again!”

It’s meant as a tease but there’s some concern bled into the jab and the young girl nods her head in all seriousness.

“Bye Y/N!” Eri, the shy girl, gifts you a smile before grabbing Mirios hand, her digits dwarfed by his own. “Thank you for the apple!”

Standing you notice Mirio hasn’t moved an inch away from you. You may have only just met but the Alpha appears to be lost in thought. Soft features resting frozen, thick brows knitted together in concentration, as if... Noticing your eyes on him he drops the look in one smooth motion, giving you just about the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

“We’re not gonna make the same mistake, right Eri?” The blond gives a reassuring squeeze to the girls hand and she returns the gesture by tightening her grip. Mirio shoots a goofy thumbs-up in your direction before turning away, Eri following at the hip.

His last words are spoken with his back to you. “Thanks again Y/N. I hope we see each other again at U.A.”

Wait does that mean...

Mirio attends the same school as you?

“Y-yeah!” The reply barely leaves your tongue. The whole situation may have scrambled your brain but you can’t help the warm smile that stretches over your features.

Watching the two disappear into the dying crowd you feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket. Grabbing the device you lightly tap the home button to see...

Nine unread texts and three missed calls?

How had you not noticed your phone going off like crazy? Your friend is going to kill you.

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘

And you had missed it.

Missed the way ocean blue eyes sought you out one last time before getting lost in the sea of strangers.

#mirio x reader #yandere mirio #yandere bnha #bnha mirio #sorry its uhhhhhhh slow #there will be more in the next chapter pls forgive me it's my first aob////#let me know what u guys think or if u have any questions #mywriting

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gagmebucky · 4 years

Text

His face dips into your shoulder and neck, lips skimming along the slope until he’s brushing your ear. “Just. . . just for added clarity, this isn’t a dream?” He’s genuinely asking, sotto voce and breathy in his wanting disbelief, but never breaking his menacing pace. “This isn’t one of my daily wet dreams about you, and I really have your soft little pussy underneath my fingers right now?”

in which you and steve share the bed. (includes agent!reader x avenger!steve rogers, masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, mild voyeur!bucky.)

do not repost.

—

Though you haven’t thought about it—at least, not before now—you don’t have a nightly routine. Other than the basics, a shower and tying your hair back in a protective style, you’re underneath the covers and it’s lights out. You don’t require anything special nor do you partake in miscellaneous habits.

You like to think that, as a trained operative, you’re grown to be adaptable in the other aspects of your life. The missions, constant moving around and shifting settings, settling down easily is a good skill to have. But there is one thing, which is your occasional insomnia, typically punctuated with a sudden upheaval of arousal.

It’s just your luck that the hotblooded urge attacks you in the current situation—in the arms of a coworker, several feet shy of another coworker. (A part of you giggles that it’s because you’re in his arms that it’s hitting you and not that it was simply inevitable.)

The job is your run-of-the-mill observe and report but the target you’re gunning for is in the bigger leagues therefore you’re accompanied by two super soldiers who have experience with this particular enemy. But the location has a huge event in the area, and the mission was somewhat out of the blue so all the hotels were booked up. Except for this one, and it only has one room available with two queen beds.

Agent Barnes, ever the charmer, passed out on the first before you and Agent Rogers even finished checking the place out. And Steve, ever the gentleman, insisted you take the bed and he was fine with the couch. But, you, you and your I’m-totally-cool-and-I-don’t-have-a-crush-on-you facade waved him off, assuring you’re both adults and capable of sleeping in the same bed.

The problem, you now realize, is that while you are an adult and you should be able to sleep soundly next to a coworker-slash-friend, you aren’t. Your libido, it seems, wants to spite you because the second you think you’re tired and ready to succumb to unconsciousness next to the six-foot blond, she awakens.

Preferring to wash up last, you walked out the bathroom to find that he squished himself on one side. Which you had fondly rolled your eyes at, slipping beneath the duvet then gently tugging his broad mass over. In his sleepy state, he followed your direction seamlessly, and somehow, you two ended up tangled together.

In the first hour, your mind drifted to very inappropriate places, depraved recollections of those videos you like to watch with one hand down your pants then more personal—but nonetheless perverted—scenarios, authored by you and starring the man beside you.

The second hour, you registered your amoral thoughts and vehemently worked on denying any further musings as well as the intense throbbing in your nether regions. You hoped to dissuade your feelings with other topics like how you’ll handle the mission tomorrow, and the economical and sociopolitical impact of human Shrek—really, anything not the way he’s nuzzled into you, or the places that could lead.

Right now, well into the third sleepless hour, you’re recognizing how fucked you are (God, you wish you were getting fucked for real). Because you’re so horny it hurts, and there’s no possible way you can sleep until it’s been quelled, and though you’d love to sneak into the bathroom to do the deed—it’ll take you five, ten minutes top—you can’t when Steve is dead asleep and holding you so tight: which, simultaneously, is stroking the fire. Pun intended.

His body coils around yours like a second skin, defined muscular cushion felt through your and his loose shirt, his a tank while yours a tee. He’s a radiator amid an air conditioned room and sheets that aren’t the best insulators. A strong forearm is braced across your partially turned hips, long legs stretched and intertwined with yours.

Quiet breaths inhale and exhale your nape, the tip of his nose nestled against the first ridge of your spine. There’s the intermittent adjustment, where he snuggles closer, brushing his impossibly soft lips over that spot, mumbling something like, “Don’t. . . don’t go. N - nng, stay,” when you try to slither out of bed, cementing his subconscious grip on you.

All things considered, you don’t mind it truthfully. In fact, he’s incredibly comfortable, and that those little twitches in his slumber are incredibly cute. You just wish your center would let it be wholesome, and not twist it into something salacious.

You ponder your options: continue to lie awake until morning, or—or, masturbate there. The position is good, really good for it, now that you think about it.

You’re halfway on your stomach, one knee hiked high, spread, while the other stretches downward; the corresponding arm is free, though the other is tucked beneath a pillow.

It wouldn’t take but one movement to sink your hand between that prime spot and satisfy yourself. And, yes, Bucky is snoring with his face aimed toward you, meaning if his eyes flutter open, he might make out what you’re doing in the darkness.

But, at this point, your need has outweighed your potential embarrassment.

Your teeth run over your lower lip then you move carefully. With your free wrist, you sink below and flush between your hips, placing the joint of your straightened elbow against his arm. And that contact while you’re doing it should put you on, seriously underline the indecency of your act.

It doesn’t though. If you’re being honest, there’s a visceral thrill in doing something like this: beneath the nose of two powerful and handsome men, the more vanilla of the duo whose arms you’re in. Your mind echoes something about professionalism but it’s drowned out by a flood of sensations via your fingertips.

“O - oh,” you whisper inaudibly. The position is good, better than you expected—it’s fucking ace, you realize, shifting your weight into your fingers, rubbing two of them against your bare clit. You bury your face into the pillow, hoping to muffle your reaction to the relief beginning to course through your veins.

You’ve always preferred to lay on your back, and to use a silicone helper. (On cases by yourself, or cases where superiors aren’t paired with you, you bring one—a vibe, a pretty color that packs enough of a punch.) But this, right here, oh, it really works.

Your muscles strain, and your toes curl in their respective positions. That wild throbbing has spiraled into a full-bodied fever, and it’s reaching a fever pitch. You press yourself harder into the pillow, biting down so nothing can escape because here it c—

“Nng-nng,” Steve’s groan rumbles behind you, a louder uttering than the times before, and your body turns to ice. Rustling, you can feel his long lashes fluttering against the back of your neck, eyebrows furrowing. “Hey.” The grip anchored across your waist tightens, and he breathes in: and your stomach clenches because he has to know, even when he continues groggily, “What are you - what’re you doing?”

“I—” You don’t know what you were going to say but it falls short when he moves.

His arm lifts so he can follow yours, hands ghosting along until he reaches that spot. He sinks in with you where you’re hot and dripping, and a small choking sound escapes you at the feeling of his rough pads.

It’s then you manage a rasped, “C - can’t sleep.”

“Oh,” he says then his smile tickles your nape, swiping two passes over your slick button, and your moan widens his smile. “Then need some help?”

Your brain may have short-circuited but you nod, jerky as it may be. “Y - yes,” you speak with a sharp gasp. “That - that would be n - nice.”

Turns out, Captain America is not as vanilla as you previously thought because he doesn’t hesitate to dig right in. His index and ring finger part your sex for his middle to hone in on your clit. Then he’s abusing it in rapid circles that besiege your nerves with stimulation.

You aren’t expecting him to be so skilled, passionate off the brake of sleep. A high moan tears from your lips, followed by a series of squeaks and whimpers in a lame attempt to quiet yourself. Your body jolts, and your hips careen into his onslaught, encouraging that pressure in your belly.

His face dips into your shoulder and neck, lips skimming along the slope until he’s brushing your ear. “Just. . . just for added clarity, this isn’t a dream?” He’s genuinely asking, sotto voce and breathy in his wanting disbelief, but never breaking his pace. “This isn’t one of my daily wet dreams about you, and I really have your soft little pussy underneath my fingers right now?”

“Not - not a dream, Steve!” you gasp, outright writhing into his palm. The fingers you had on yourself are now clawing at the sheets while your frame shakes. “Definitely not a dream.”

“And those pretty sounds are because of me?” he wonders, a raggedness to his voice that’s mimicked in his merciless fingers. “These f - fucking whimpers and moans you’re makin’. . . trying to muffle so Bucky won’t hear are for me?”

“God, yes,” you choke, squeezing your eyes shut because his best friend is snoring softly, and you don’t know how but you just know that he’ll know if he awakens now. You rationalize that the embarrassment will be less so long as you don’t see whether his gaze flickers open—which there is a high probability of happening since you’re doing a shit job at being discreet.

“Okay, good,” he exhales before his teeth latch onto the vulnerable part of your neck, tongue lulling out to soothe the sting, and your entirety is bucking into him, calling out for the remedy only he has. “Oh, shit - shit. You’re soft—sweet Jesus—you’re soft. I didn’t think someone could be this soft—fuck.”

You swear to God he’s doing his hardest to have you wake up his counterpart because his words are gasoline to a glowing blue fire. His name is a desperate cry on the tip of your tongue, and you’re trying to hold back but between his husky baritone in your ear and swirling caress, it’s becoming impossible.

“And God, you’re really . . . you’re drenching my fingers and the sheets. How long - how long were you touching yourself in my arms before I woke up? ‘Cause fucking hell, honey.” There’s this almost feral guttural groan he makes on the petname, and it rattles between your thighs.

“S - Steve—“ you warble, half-whimpered; you’re crossed in warning him about your lack of control and moaning his praise.

“I knew I smelled something sweet, and it’s you. You. You’re sweet, so sweet—“

And that’s it. The volcano explodes, and you come crumbling into his hand. In more ways than one because thankfully, he knows you’re going to scream his name and the arm propped beneath the pillow slides under and around to clamp over your vibrating mouth.

It’s pure euphoria pumping through your blood, lasting far longer than you could have ever caused on your own, possessing you in sporadic tremors until you slump in his arms. Panting, your muscles relax, and he reaffirms his grip on you more comfortably.

When the stars dissipate and you think you’ve regained your sense, you force yourself to face him because the mortification wants to rear its head, never mind your now sleepy state. Despite the darkness, you can discern some of his handsome features, and it comforts you.

“T - thanks,” you murmur; you aren’t sure what to say.

“No, no,” he murmurs back, and his crystal blue eyes are raking over your face. “Thank you. The pleasure was mine. Next time, don’t hesitate to ask ‘cause I - I’ve been thinkin’ about that—thinking about you for awhile now.”

The admission graces a smile on your lips, and you wiggle closer, leaning forward to seal the deal while he does the same. Before you can, however, a voice breaks through the moment:

“Well, I hope you’re both happy because I’m awake and I’m hard now.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers x you smut #marvel smut #marvel reader insert #marvel imagines #me writing: is there anyway i can reference kat #me writing this: YES #the sentence you read and you were like HUH? it’s kat <3 #this was originally bucky but there's another similar premise i would like to do with him so now it's steve #my writing

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irishseeeker · 3 years

Link

the story of us

summary: Five times Kate Sheffield and Anthony Bridgeton were just friends and one time they were more.

find chapter 1 here or here

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chapter 2: I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

Anthony Bridgerton’s summer gets significantly better the minute Kate Sheffield steps off the train.

He’d been abroad for the first two weeks of the summer with friends from university, Kate had only come for a few days before she went away with Mary and her sister, and he returned to England to wait out the rest of the summer with his family. He couldn’t stay away for too long, the guilt of leaving his mother and siblings alone would nag at him until he couldn’t focus on anything else. They needed him.

When they hugged on the platform, the familiar, comforting scent of lilies and soap filled his nostrils and he felt this calm feeling seep deep into his bones.

He’d missed her.

When they broke apart, he took her suitcase and he raised an eyebrow at the bouquet of red roses tied up with brown paper and a ribbon.

“Aw, did you get me flowers?” He teased, and she stuck her tongue out at him. He snorted loudly.

“They’re for your mum, dipshit.”

He pulled up her suitcase’s handle, beginning to wheel it and walk with her off the platform. “Charming. What did you get me?”

“Oh, this.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her middle finger, smirking as she waved it at him.

They walked out of the train station and towards his car. It was a quiet station, right in the middle of the countryside. The main station was in the middle of town, which was a twenty minute drive.

He pressed a button on his car keys and the boot automatically opened. He was driving their Range Rover, one of their bigger cars for the country. They always spent the summer at their country home Aubrey Hall in Kent, leaving London for most of the summer.

The countryside used to be his favourite place.

Now, it just reminded him of his father. Every room and the long hallways were plagued with memories. Memories that would only grow older. His father wouldn’t. His father would never be a part of another memory.

“Jesus, did you pack your entire wardrobe in here?” He huffed as he bent down, putting his weight onto his knees as he hauled her suitcase into the boot.

She scoffed. "You brought at least six suitcases to university.”

They climbed into the car, Anthony clicked in his seatbelt. He turned to glance at Kate, who was tying her hair back in a plait. The golden sun shone through the window, lighting up Kate’s face and dotting it with subtle sparkles.

It suddenly became quite hard to breathe.

“Anthony?”

Her timid voice snapped him out of his daze, turning to her. “Yeah?”

Kate was frowning at him, her nose wrinkling like it always did. “You’re staring. Is there something on my face?”

“I wasn’t staring,” He mumbled, turning on the car and avoiding her eyes. “We better get back. Mum will kill me if we’re late for lunch.”

“I hope your mum hasn’t gone to too much trouble,” Kate murmured, fiddling with her hands with a nervous expression on her face. He knew that look, he had seen it a lot over the past two years. She was biting her bottom lip, which was an unwelcome distraction while he was driving. “It’s so nice of her to let me stay.”

He had been with Kate for five minutes and his mind was already drifting there.

It started a few weeks ago.

He had a dream.

It had started out relatively normal. He was laying on his bed, naked, wrapped in a white sheet. He wasn’t alone.

A woman was with him. A naked woman, her long legs covered by the white sheet. He couldn’t tell who she was at first, laying flat on her stomach tucked against his side.

He notices the dark curls first.

Anthony wraps a thick strand around his hand, watching it slowly twirl around his fingers and wrist. He can see the sharp edge of her jawline, the flutter of her long eyelashes and the fullness of her rose tinted lips.

All of her features form a face.

Kate.

Her face is carved into his memory. He can’t stop thinking about the sprinkle of dark freckles across her nose, the slight pink tint to her cheeks and the delicate leanness of her fingers as they stroked his cheek.

It’s like he never truly saw her before and now she’s all he can see.

The dream always ended the same way. Kate slowly moves on top of him, her hands on either side of his face as her body pressed against his, chest against chest. She leans down slowly, their lips inches apart-

He always wakes up the same way-panting and sweating.

At first, he thought it didn’t mean anything. Kate may be the first woman he had a platonic relationship with that he wasn’t related to and having a sexual dream about her didn’t mean anything.

It couldn’t mean anything.

But-

He kept having the same dream.

The woman was always Kate.

It was ruining his life.

It’s not like he had never noticed Kate. He wasn’t blind. She had always been beautiful. Anthony had just never thought of her that way. He had never allowed himself too.

Kate was his best friend. Kate had sat down in the same tutorial as him and quickly began to argue with him and he had been stuck ever since.

He wouldn’t lose her because of his behavior. His track record with women had been treacherous and Anthony knew it was mostly his fault.

Something had died inside of him when his father did and he had accepted that. It wasn’t fair to expect others to as well. He was emotionally unavailable and he wasn’t ready for a relationship. Siena had proven that.

That painful disaster wasn't something he planned to repeat.

He couldn’t fix himself. There was a part of him that would always be broken.

Anthony realized he hadn’t responded to Kate, so he asked her about her trip. He knew most of the details, they had facetimed nearly every day since they had been apart.

Kate had suddenly appeared in his life and she had remained there ever since. It still frightened him, how in two years she had become so vital. Kate had become his anchor. He never intended for her to happen but it was out of his control. Kate had fit into his life in a way no one else had since his father had.

She was the first person in a long time Anthony felt understood him. There had only been one other person who ever could and he had died.

Kate had lost her dad too. It wasn’t a taboo topic between them. They could speak openly about who they had lost and they understood each other.

He didn’t have to be anything for her. He didn’t have to be her emotional support person like he had to for his mother. He didn’t have to be a surrogate father like he did for his siblings. He didn’t have any pressurizing responsibilities like he did in every other part of his life and he didn’t have to put on a false façade that he was fine and everything was fine.

Anthony would do anything for Kate, he just didn’t have to. It was a comforting thought that lifted the heavy weight off his shoulders just a little.

He had survived two years without crossing that line with Kate.

His subconscious had decided to take it upon itself and do it for him. It was as if a switch inside of his brain had flicked and it was all he could think about. Thinking of Kate in that way.

Lately, Kate was all he could think about.

He was convinced his subconscious was playing tricks on him-if something was meant to happen between them, it would have.

It didn’t matter, in the end.

Kate would never see him in that way. Kate had always been hard to read but he had become accustomed to seeing through the cracks in her built up walls and he was certain she would never feel anything for him but friendship.

He could live with that.

He just couldn’t live without her.

“Here we are,” He said, nodding his head towards the house as they pulled up at the two black iron gates guarding the property. He pushed on the break, reaching out the window to type in the key code to open the gates. “Aubrey Hall.”

“Wow,” Kate said, leaning forward towards the dashboard as they drove up the long pebbled driveway towards the house. “It’s beautiful. It’s finally time to meet the Bridgertons.”

Anthony let out a low chuckle, nodding his head. He didn’t doubt for a second Kate knew every little detail he had told her about all of his siblings, he did talk about them a lot. She had met Benedict and Colin a few times when they visited Oxford and had seen Benedict quite a bit once he became a student himself but she had never met his younger siblings or his mother.

He had never brought anyone to Aubrey Hall before.

His mother, of course, appeared at the front door as soon as the car came to a stop. He didn’t doubt she had been waiting at the window, peeking behind their curtains for them to arrive. Violet Bridgerton had been asking a lot of questions about Kate since Anthony had asked if she could come to stay.

His mother didn’t ask questions without insinuations behind them.

Benedict and Colin had found it particularly amusing, taking every opportunity to take the piss out of Anthony. They gleefully egged on their mother’s eagerness of meeting Anthony’s potential girlfriend despite Anthony reminding his family daily Kate was his friend.

Apparently, he talked about Kate a lot. He obviously disagreed, which made Ben and Colin tease him further. What fun things do you have planned for you and Kate when she comes, Anthony? A romantic picnic in the gardens? What would Kate say about that, Anthony? Aw, didn’t you and Kate do that Anthony? Anthony, are you feeling okay? You haven’t talked about Kate in five minutes. The girls had even joined in. Even Frannie, his sworn ally, had teased him a little.

Traitor.

He was adamant he did not talk about Kate that much.

It was a perfectly normal amount.

They got out of the car and Violet walked towards them, ignoring Anthony as she pulled Kate into a hug. “Kate, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you. Please, come in! Anthony, get her bags darling.”

“Miss Bridgerton, it is so nice to meet you. Thank you so much for having me,” Kate said, handing her the bouquet of tulips and a gift bag. “It’s not much, but I hope you like them.”

“Kate, we have heard so much about you.” Violet Bridgerton smiled at her and gasped at the gifts, ignoring Anthony’s glare at her jibe and Benedict’s snort from the doorway. “Oh! You shouldn’t have. Thank you so much. These are gorgeous, I’ll have to get a vase-girls, stop that right now! Excuse me, dear.”

Daphne and Eloise were on their third argument of the day, right on schedule. They quickly shut up and ran away from their scowling mother who was charging towards them.

They all watched Violet in amusement before turning back to each other, and Benedict grinned at Kate and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“Katharine.”

“Benedict.” Kate chimed back at him, reaching up to squeeze his cheek. “You’re so grown up.”

Benedict turned to smirk at Anthony, his eyes sparking with amusement. “Anthony has been counting down the days until you arrive. Marking them off that little corgi calendar you gave him, bless his little heart-”

Kate gasped, turning to Anthony delighted. It made something inside of his chest flutter a little. “You’re using the calendar?”

Anthony shrugged, trying to appear unbothered. “It’s practical. The girls liked the pictures.”

“Ben, I hope you’re not taking the piss out of our brother without me.”

Lord give him strength.

Colin, his 18 year old brother who was about to set off travelling on his gap year in a few weeks, strolled into the room. His brown hair was sticking up in all directions and he probably just woke up.

Benedict, smug as ever, turned to smirk at his younger brother. “I was only warming up.”

“Hey, Kate.” Colin grinned easily at her, crossing his arms as he joined them. “Don’t lie, Anthony. The girls liked looking at it for a few minutes. I drew a penis on it one time and you got all moody-”

Anthony narrowed his eyes at his brothers.“I will murder you, you know that right?”

Kate glanced between the three brothers, looking highly amused. “This is going to be fun.”

Deciding he had had enough of his brothers for the afternoon and validly cautious of what else was going to come out of their mouths, he gestured towards the staircases. He nudged Kate along. “As delightful as this little catchup is, I’m going to show Kate her room.”

“Can we get you guys anything? A snack? A condom?” Colin called after them, Benedict and his snickering filling the hallway. Kate snorted from beside him, jogging up the steps.

Anthony threw the first thing he could grab, which happened to be one of Hyacinth’s tiny pink uggs. It narrowly avoided his great aunt’s blue clay pot on the hall table as it hit Colin smack on the head.

“I’d ask for one but then you’d actually have to be having some to need them, right Col?” Anthony winked at his brother who was rubbing his head, glaring at Anthony from across the hall. “Hang in there, mate.”

“I have plenty of sex, thank you very-”

“Colin Bridgerton!”

His mother had walked into the hallway just as her third youngest opened his mouth and landed himself right in it. Her jaw dropped open and Anthony took the opportunity, laughing at his squirming brother, to nudge Kate upstairs just as his mother started giving out to Colin.

“They’re idiots,” Anthony said, rolling his eyes as they walked along the first floor’s maroon carpet towards her bedroom. His eyes anxiously flicked towards Kate, hoping they could ignore the awkward mention of condoms.

He was going to kill Colin later.

“Funny idiots,” Kate agreed, smiling at him as her eyes moved around the hallway and the painting and pictures on the walls. All of the siblings were on the first floor, except for Gregory and Hyacinth who were on the second floor with their mother.

“I’ll give you a tour later, let's just drop off your stuff first.” He opened the door to the guest room, that would someday be Gregory’s room-it was right opposite his bedroom. “Here we are. I’m just across the hall.”

“This place is incredible. It’s so beautiful,” Kate said, turning to him with a teasing smile. She dramatically bowed, her long dark hair flipping over her head and back as she stood up. “Lord Bridgerton.”

“Fuck right off,” Anthony said, collapsing on the bed and Kate joined him. The familiar memorizing scent of lilies and soap filled his nostrils. Kate had looked up their families on an ancestry website last year and had found out Anthony was from a long line of nobility and had called him Lord Bridgerton for a solid month.

God, he had missed her.

He turned to her, flexing his biceps as he stretched his stiff arms over his head. “Are you happy to be home?”

She nodded, her chest moving up and down slowly as she relaxed on the bed. “I loved being away, but it’s so nice to be back and to be home. Did you get my postcards?”

The last person he had gotten a postcard from had been his grandmother when he was younger until Kate. She’d sent him a few from around Europe, from Rome to Paris, and he kept them all in the drawer beside his bed. He’d started eagerly checking the postbox everytime post had come once she had started sending them. “I did. They were great. They’re in my room. Otherwise, Gregory or Hyacinth would find them and colour them in. I loved the Amsterdam one.”

“I thought you would. Oh! I got you presents,” Kate said gleefully, pulling neatly wrapped bundles out of her bag as she sat up on the bed and crossed her legs. “They’re not much, but I thought you might like them.”

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” Anthony said, completely stunned as he took the presents Kate eagerly handed him. She looked so excited and it made his stomach flutter uncomfortably.

It wasn’t butterflies. Anthony didn’t get butterflies. It was probably a digestion issue or something.

He unwrapped the first present, grinning at the perfectly neat wrapping. It was so Kate. Each corner was perfectly taped and folded properly. He unwrapped a small shot glass wrapped in bubble wrap.

“A shot glass, of course.”

He let out a low chuckle, “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Sheffield. Thank you, this is brilliant.”

The next present was a big box of foreign sweets and crisps, ones that reminded him of being on holiday. There was a mixture of haribos, chewy sweets from Spain and exotic crisp flavors that you could never get in England.

His mouth watered. He had an extreme sweet tooth and Kate was always pestering him to eat some fruit or vegetables. He’d smugly remind her he’d never had a cavity. “This is amazing. I’ll be hiding these from everyone or they’ll be gone in an hour.”

He unwrapped the next package which was an assortment of jams, of different colours and varieties.

She grinned as she pointed out the different flavors. “I thought you’d like them for when we go back to university. I know how much you love jam, I wouldn’t want you to starve. I got them in Normandy, at a farmer’s market. The pear one is unbelievable.”

Anthony had never been gifted in the kitchen. They’d been lucky to grow up with nannies and cooks, and both his parents had been talented in the kitchen-something that was not passed onto Anthony. Besides meals in the catering hall at university, Anthony had solely survived on toast with butter or jam before Kate took pity on him and started feeding him.

“This is the last and my favourite one.”

The package felt soft and he carefully unwrapped it, curiously pulling the little bag out of the paper. It was a brown leather case with a fine detail of stitching around the edge.

“It’s made out of Italian leather,” Kate explained, gesturing to the case. “It’s a case for your pocket watch, so you don’t break it. It can clip onto anything, so you’ll always have it.”

“Thank you,” He mumbled, looking oddly dazed. He reached into his pocket, slowly pulling out the silver chained pocket watch his father had passed onto him. It didn’t really make sense, having a pocket watch when watches and iPhones existed. It was old fashioned.

The watch had been passed through the Bridgertons for years and his father had loved it. He’d let Anthony play with it when he was younger until he had been given it on his eight birthday. It was one of the last things Anthony had of Edmund Bridgerton before he died.

He opened his mouth to say something, failing to find any words that could explain how grateful he was. The pocket watch slid into the case perfectly. “Kate. This is..this is amazing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Kate said, smiling softly at him and lightly squeezing his arm. He was staring right into her soft brown eyes, full of warmth and kindness. She knew how much it meant to him and she had thought about him and got him this.

He wasn’t used to people thinking about him like that.

He felt something stirring inside of him, a tight feeling in his chest about to burst as he looked at her. She was looking right at him and he swore he saw her eyes flicker between his eyes and lips. “Kate-”

They both jumped startled as their eye contact broke, the moment fading, when there was a loud knock on the door, followed by a voice. “Anthony? Kate? Lunch is ready.”

They stood up slowly, Anthony sliding the protected pocket watch into his pocket and clipping it to the inside of his pocket’s material and headed to the door.

Benedict had been the one sent to fetch them, Colin was nowhere in sight. “Colin is trying to convince Mum to let him eat lunch. His comment didn’t go down well earlier and he’s apparently corrupting our younger siblings.”

Anthony let out a deep chuckle, turning to Kate with a smirk. “If you want to punish Colin, take away his food. He inhales anything in sight.”

Once they sat down for lunch, Kate was an immediate big hit with the Bridgertons. Hyacinth threw a fit until she was allowed to eat lunch on Anthony’s lap, quite suspicious about his new friend. Kate quickly got into her good graces when she put two carrot sticks in her mouth to look like a walrus, making walrus noises until Hyacinth laughed so hard she spat out some of her juice.

Daphne chats away to Kate about her plans to study architecture in Cambridge after her final year in school, which Anthony had spent the last few weeks helping her prepare for her applications and for her interviews. Daph announced she was pleased there was finally another female in the house to combat the massive levels of testosterone, as Eloise apparently didn’t count (who gives her the finger which their mother quickly scolds her for) and Frannie is always disappearing.

Anthony knows he shouldn’t have favourites. He loves all of his siblings, he really does-but Francesca is his favourite.

His brothers are his best friends, Daph is the person he shares a lot of the same hobbies with-riding, swimming and Eloise is the person he debates and watches documentaries with. At six and three, Gregory and Hyacinth are still babies. It’s different with them, they don’t remember their father. Anthony desperately tried to be that for them. He had to take care of them after their father died and Hyacinth was born a month after and their mother didn’t leave bed for weeks. Anthony is definitely their favourite sibling and it does wonders for his ego.

Francesca, however, is Anthony.

They both aren’t the loud ones-they leave that to Colin and Eloise. They’re not the artistic ones either-Daphne and Benedict were the ones who had art shows and were stars in their school plays.

Anthony is pretty sure Francesca is the only other sibling who will join the family business in the future. He can’t say for sure because Gregory and Hyacinth are so young, but he doesn’t doubt if for a second for Francesca. They read the newspaper most mornings together, they send each other articles and book recommendations when she’s at home and he’s at university. They’re both fiercely competitive and play on any sports team they can.

Frannie is very serious for a twelve year old with an incredible emotional intelligence, something Anthony was always told he was like, except for the emotional intelligence part-he’s been told he’s rather lacking in that area-and he knows she worries about him. Their father’s death had given him a responsibility that he didn’t want her to have. Francesca didn’t agree. She had been nine when he passed. Yet, she had always been at this side-helping with the babies, insisting he ate if he had forgotten and talking to Colin when he acted out in grief and fought against Anthony helping him.

They had all helped each other in their grief but Francesca was the one who saved Anthony from drowning.

They understood each other and Anthony wouldn’t have survived that first year after Edmund’s death without her. Their mother had been recovering from a traumatic birth and was still grieving, he had cancelled his gap year plans to take care of the family before university and was trying to stop them from falling apart.

Whenever she needed time alone, she disappeared in the house, usually to her bedroom, the library or the treehouse. Anthony had always retreated when he needed some time to breathe. Her spots had become Anthony’s spots, whether it was in Kent or in London, and they would sit in silence doing whatever.

Frannie turns to him one morning at breakfast, handing him the finance part of the paper and taking a sip of her orange juice. “I like her.”

“Kate?” The topic of their conversation was cooking pancakes with Eloise and Daphne, the three of them laughing about something. She catches his eye, grinning at him before turning to listen to what Eloise was saying.

“So do you,” Francesca said, as if it was a casual thing to say. “I think you should, you know. It would be nice, to be happy.”

Anthony actually stutters. “I-I am happy.”

Francesca sighs, shaking her head. “Of course you are. You have been since Kate arrived. I wonder why?”

Everyone else joins the table, cutting off their conversation as they hand out the pancakes. Anthony stares at Frannie in bewilderment before turning back to his food. If his internal battle and feelings were that obvious, he needed to work on being more subtle.

That summer is the best Anthony has ever had.

One warm August afternoon, Anthony takes Kate away from the house so he can get her to himself for a bit. He decides to take her horse riding to the nearby stables where they used to take lessons and go riding.

Anthony hadn’t ridden since the summer of his father’s death. They had spent every summer in Kent before their father died and before that, they had lived there until Anthony was five before permanently moving to London. Their father had always loved riding and had taken them out for rides and lessons, but their mother was never that fussed. Anthony had been shocked when his mother announced she wanted to go back to Aubrey Hall this summer, having been so insistent on staying in London for three years straight. He didn’t think she would ever be able to go back, but she seemed to be coping well so far or he just hadn’t seen her break down.

His siblings could just go to the stables if they wanted to go for a ride, but none of them were that fussed except for Daphne. She had always loved riding and she had competed in competitions for years before quitting to focus on school. It wasn’t the same after their father died, he had always been at every single one of her competitions. It had usually been the two of them and their father going out for rides together during the summer.

Anthony and Daphne had gone for daily rides since their arrival in Kent, deciding to continue the tradition they had always loved. Convincing Kate to, on the other hand, was not looking likely.

Kate was biting her bottom lip, looking at the horse in front of her. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll be fine.”

She was still hesitant. “Is there like a pony or something? Something smaller?”

“This is the smallest mare they have. She’s very calm. Eloise rode her last week and she’s never been fond of riding.”

“I don’t trust it,” Kate whispered, stepping closer to Anthony as if she was afraid the horse could hear her.

Anthony let out an amused, slightly frustrated huff. He was trying to be patient, but it was wearing thin. “It’s a horse, Kate.”

Kate turned to glare at him, narrowing her eyes. “Not all of us came out of the womb and onto a saddle, Anthony. Horses are large and intelligent creatures. What if it doesn’t want me to ride it and throws me off?

“Do you trust me?”

Kate sighed, rolling her eyes. “Yes,” She said, begrudgingly.

He extended his hand to her. “I promise you’re not going to fall off. I’m going to walk you around before we go for a ride. She’s a good horse, she won’t throw you off. Just get up and shut up.”

“Wow. You’re so kind. With an attitude like that, it’s a mystery to why you’re single.”

He mimicked her, and she mimicked him back, and they stood there mocking each other for a few minutes until she shoved him into the muck.

He wouldn’t talk to her for ten minutes, covered in dirt, and she nearly wet herself she was laughing so hard, and he eventually joined in.

He eventually helped her onto the horse, a gentle brown mare called Iris. Kate clutched at his hand as he helped her up and the electricity sent jolts down his spine. He walked her around for a bit before leading her for a ride across the fields, which Kate seemed to love.

They trotted for most of it and Kate made him take a picture with her with the blooming fields in the background to send to Mary and Edwina.

He definitely doesn’t send it to himself later and keep it on his phone.

It was one of the best afternoons of his life.

Things tended to be amazing whenever Kate was around.

It was becoming quite the problem, especially whenever she smiled or laughed, causing him to get this uncomfortable, warm feeling in his chest.

Kate even gets up with him in the mornings with the babies when he gave his Mum a break, watching cartoons with Greg and Hyacinth who wake up at illegal hours most mornings.

The rest of his siblings slowly join them, everyone tired and weary as they sit on the couch. The early morning silence slowly begins to fade with the chatter in the room.

“I love this.”

“Mm?” He hums, turning his attention away from the cartoon to look at Kate.

“How noisy it is here. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family so much. It could just get quiet at times, you know? I’ve always wanted a big family.”

“Oh,” says Kate softly, looking down at a sleeping Hyacinth against his chest. “She’s adorable.”

“Yeah,” said Anthony, smiling down at his sister. “Until she’s screaming her lungs out after you turn off Peppa Pig after four hours of watching it.”

Kate chuckled softly, “She's quite the character. She looks like you, you know.”

“You think?” said Anthony, his voice softer.

She nodded, smiling warmly at him. “You’re doing an amazing job, you know that right?”

It wasn’t anything like his father would be doing if he was still here. Anthony had made his peace with the fact he could never be the man his father was. However, hearing it from Kate made it feel like he was doing something right.

“Alright, Greg,” Anthony was kneeling down to his little brother’s height, holding him steady. “I’m going to take these stabilizers off, and you’re going to pedal towards Kate. Just like we practiced on Eloise’s old bike.”

Gregory blinked up at him, eyes wide and terrified. “What if I fall?”

“You get back up,” said Anthony, brushing his thumb over his cheek slowly. “Besides, I’m going to be right beside you. I’d never let you fall.”

After a few tries, a few near falls and some tears, Gregory successfully cycles around the front garden all by himself.

He swung Gregory around, grinning at her laughter as the rest of the Bridgertons clapped.

Kate was smiling at him, and the sun made her face glow, and he knew in that moment he would do anything just to see her smile like that at him for the rest of his life.

They sat around the fire on the patio later that evening, roasting marshmallows on metal rods.

“I’m sorry if this is boring,” said Anthony, biting his lip as he glanced around at his family. “I know it’s not the most exciting summer.”

“Are you kidding?” said Kate, grinning at him as she shifted Hyacinth on her lap. She had refused to sit anywhere else, and Kate didn’t seem to mind at all. Anthony was eternally grateful, as he didn’t have it in him to deal with a Hyacinth Bridgerton tantrum that evening. “This is amazing. Thank you for inviting me.”

She’s smiling at him again and it’s getting very hard to ignore the hammering inside of his chest.

“She fits in well, don’t you think?” Violet Bridgerton says to Anthony in the kitchen, one evening after dinner when they’re both cleaning up. “As if she belongs here.”

“Mum,” Anthony says sternly, in a tone usually reserved for a parent scolding a child, but he knew exactly what she was insinuating. His mother’s favourite hobby was meddling in his love life. “Don’t go there.”

He wouldn’t let himself go there.

He had been internally debating it with himself for a while now, but he always came to the same conclusion. His reputation wasn’t stellar. His relationships never worked out.

He wouldn’t risk losing Kate.

It almost felt normal, her teasing him over a girl-as if the last few years hadn’t happened. As if his father’s death and Anthony’s role in the family hadn’t drastically changed everything. As if his relationship with his mother wasn't broken.

“Where, dearest?” Violet said, smirking at her son before walking back into the dining room.

Anthony sighed, leaning against the counter. He pushed the thoughts spiraling in his head and his recurring dream to the back of his head.

The women in his life were going to kill him.

They get the train to London on a Saturday for their friend Rob’s 21st birthday, and they stay for the night. They spend the day wandering around London, grabbing lunch at Camden market before getting ready at his house.

Kate’s dress is black and clings to her curves in a way that forces Anthony to remember to breathe.

Rob’s parents are divorced and his dad spends a lot of his time abroad, so the party is in his dad’s empty townhouse in Kensington. The party is in full swing by the time they arrive and they’re both drunk and laughing within an hour. They haven’t seen their university friends in a few weeks and when Anna sees them, she screams and jumps into their arms.

They eventually get separated, Anthony plays beer pong with some of Rob’s school friends and Rob, Luke and Ethan from uni. His head is buzzing, he feels slightly dizzy but the party is packed, he’s having a good time and he keeps on drinking.

When he eventually spots Kate, she’s leaning against the wall of the kitchen talking to a tall guy. Anthony doesn’t recognize him and the feeling in his chest isn’t warm or fuzzy.

He can’t help himself. “Who is Kate talking to?”

Rob turns his head around, looking in the direction Anthony nodded. “Oh, that’s David. We’ve played football together a few times in uni. He’s decent.”

Anthony takes a long swig of his beer.

Kate eventually finds him outside with the rest of their friends, Anna beside her as they join the group. It had taken everything in him to not interrupt her conversation with David, or whatever the fuck his name was. Kate was far too good for him. He had distracted himself with a blonde girl called Ella instead, who had left the party over an hour ago.

It didn’t work.

“Hey,” said Kate, yawning softly as she climbed onto his lap, pulling his blanket over herself. Anthony tries to look unaffected, but his heart is hammering inside of his chest. She's all he can smell-lilies and soap. The scent is overwhelming. They were all sitting in camper chairs around a firepit, and they stayed there until 5am before Rob told people they could stay over in any bedroom that they wanted.

He carries a drunk Kate to bed, finding an empty bedroom and laying her carefully on the bed.

He takes off her heels, wipes her makeup carefully off with the wipes she had brought in her bag and he leaves a glass of water beside her bed. “G’night.”

“Where are you going?” Kate asked, frowning slightly as lifted her head off the pillow. She looked so adorable, her eyes half closed as she looked at him.

“I’m going to sleep on the sofa.”

“I’m pretty sure someone is having sex on the sofa. Just sleep here.” Kate mumbled, yanking at his shirt to get him onto the bed.

Anthony hesitated, biting his lip. This was definitely crossing a boundary. The rest of the rooms were taken, the couch was currently in use and he didn’t fancy sleeping on the floor. He also knew he wouldn’t sleep at all, knowing Kate was right beside him.

He convinces himself he’s staying to make sure she’s alright, in case she needs to get sick or needs something. Kate is already asleep by the time he climbs into bed, determined to stick to his side. He’s practically falling over the edge of the bed when he falls asleep.

They wake up in each other’s arms the next morning.

“Do you ever think about the future?” Anthony asks Kate one evening, after a long day of eating food in the living room and having a Friends marathon.

Kate’s lying on her back, attempting to throw popcorn in the air and catch it with her mouth. “My only plans are becoming a solicitor and getting a corgi.”

Anthony snorted. “I don’t get your obsession with those dogs.”

“Insult corgis and see how it works out for you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a threat, Sheffield?”

“No, it’s a warning.”

They’re sitting on opposite ends of the long sofa. She kicks his foot, and he grabs her foot and pulls her towards him. He knows exactly what he’s going to do, and so does she-he ignores her protests.

��Anthony, I swear to god-”

He grabs her easily, leaning over her as he tickles her sides. She’s incredibly ticklish at the age of twenty one-and there’s a loud cough.

Anthony springs off Kate like a cat touching water.

“I just came to see if you guys wanted pizza,” Eloise says slowly, a mixture of amusement and shock plastered on her face. “We’re ordering some for dinner.”

“Pineapple, please.” Kate squeaks, avoiding Eloise’s gaze and instead focusing on the screen.

“Pepperoni,” Anthony says, trying to keep his facial expression impassive as he held his sister’s gaze. Eloise leaves after that, an amused hum leaving her lips before she wandered off.

They stay on opposite sides of the couch for the rest of the night.

They go for a swim in the lake the evening before Kate goes home. The sky looks like cotton candy, the sun setting in the distance and the warm air makes the cold lake bearable.

“Why do we have to swim in the lake when there’s a perfectly good pool?” Kate asked, glancing back at the house and back at the lake. “There’s nothing in it, is there?”

“Adventure, Katherine.” He took off his t-shirt, stepping into the lake before feeling his feet sink lower and eventually lose their grounding. “There isn’t anything. Come on.”

Kate hesitantly follows him in at a snail pace, which forces Anthony to stare at the water instead of her yellow bikini.

“What was that?” She squeaked, splashing the water as she jumped up in the air, feeling something brush against her feet. She grabbed him, launching herself into his arms.

“Don’t be such a baby,” He teased, trying desperately to ignore the fact she fit perfectly into his arms.

Kate always fit.

His hands were wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him. This was breaking every boundary and rule he had put in place, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He could feel her soft skin under his fingertips, drawing patterns against her skin.

He felt her body relax, but she didn’t let go of him. She looked at him, pouting slightly. “I’m not a baby.”

“Kate?”

“Mm?”

Their faces are very close.

He lets out a shaky breath. “I’m glad you came here.”

She blinks at him, nodding her head slowly as a small smile erupts on her lips. “Me too.”

He’s going to kiss her. He’s going to kiss her. There’s no way he can’t kiss her. He has to kiss her. He’s going to ki-

There was a scream, and both of their heads flicked towards the two children running towards them, Colin and Benedict behind them.

They quickly broke apart, Anthony swimming towards the edge of the lake in case Gregory or Hyacinth rushed in. He nodded at his brothers apologetic stares, who clearly hadn’t meant for their younger siblings to disturb Anthony and Kate.

He doesn’t kiss her.

“Thanks for having me.”

“Thanks for coming.”

They’re both standing on the train platform, Kate’s train pulled into the station a minute ago. She’s going back to Somerset for two weeks before university starts, and then they’ll be together again.

He tries not to look as disappointed as he feels.

“I’ll see you in two weeks?”

“Not if I see you first,” She said, grinning at him as she slowly pulled him into a hug. She can never reach his neck, so she wraps her arms around his waist instead and leans her head against his chest.

Anthony holds her tightly. Anthony had needed her here this summer. It had been their first time at Aubrey Hall since their father died. Kate had made it easier. She’d made it fun.

As her train pulls out of the station and a waving Kate through the window disappears, he can’t help the pang of regret he feels as he watches her go.

He can’t help but think of everything he should have said, but didn’t.

He has a bitter taste in his mouth for the rest of the day.

“I think everyone’s going to the pub in an hour. Do you want to go?”

They’re finally back for their final year of university, and they’re busier than ever. Before they know it, the leaves have fallen off the trees and the cool November weather has taken over Oxford. The workload, readings and assignments are piling up and they had spent the evening reviewing each other’s thesis proposals and giving feedback to each other.

Kate looks up from her laptop, typing for a few seconds before shaking her head. “I can’t. I have a meeting.”

Anthony looks up from his laptop, raising an eyebrow. “A meeting?”

Kate takes a deep breath, staring at Anthony with a “If I tell you this, you have to promise you won’t make fun of me.”

That catches Anthony’s full attention, “I promise.”

“It’s our last year here,” Kate begins, closing her laptop and standing up. “I want to make the most of it, get more involved. So, I’ve joined the botanist society.”

Anthony blinks. “The what?”

“It’s a science society, about gardening and plants. I always use to garden with dad. It’s actually really fun and interesting. We just drink and chat and they organize trips to museums and botanical gardens. There’s a trip to the Netherlands later just before Christmas, I’m going to go.”

His face softened. He knew what it was like, avoiding things if they reminded you of someone you lost or clinging to them for dear life. He could take the piss out of her, but he doesn’t. “I think it’s great. I didn’t know we had a botanist society.”

“David told me about it, actually.”

“David?” Anthony asks as if he doesn’t know, but he knew exactly who David was. He can hear his hammering pulse in his ears.

“I met him at Rob’s party. He’s in his final year of biology. He’s nice.” Anthony doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything. He just feels sick. Was David going to be there?

“That reminds me,” Anthony says, swiftly changing the subject before he said something stupid. “I got us tickets to the law ball. We should go together.”

Kate blinks at him through her reflection in the mirror. “Together?”

Anthony shrugs, blushing slightly at his impulsivity. “Everyone else is bringing dates. Anna and Luke are going as friends. We’re both single. Unless you’re bringing someone else?”

Kate shakes her head quickly and Anthony has to stop himself sighing in relief. “No, no. That’s a great idea. I’d love to.”

It was getting extremely difficult to fight his feelings.

Kate looked beautiful.

He can’t stop the words coming out of his mouth and tries to hold in his grin when Kate blushes and rolls her eyes at him.

It’s the night of the Law Ball and their entire friend group is having pre-drinks in the common room before they headed to the college where the ball was being held.

Kate’s wearing a long lavender dress, with a V-neck cut and straps that hang loosely on her shoulders. Her hair is long and wavy down her back and he has to count slowly in his head to stop himself from staring at her.

Anthony didn’t like taking pictures but if they involved wrapping his hand around her waist, pulling her close to him-he’d never complain again taking them for the rest of his life.

Anna insists on getting multiple shots of them together, which takes a few minutes. Anthony swore he saw her wink at him at one point or he was just drunker than he thought.

The ball is brilliant, their entire friend group sits at the same table and he doesn’t remember the last time he laughed so much. They’re all drunk and sloppy, confessing their love for each other and how much they’ll miss each other when they graduate. Anthony spins Kate around the dancefloor and her arms are around his neck, and he wants to stay in that moment forever.

That voice rings in his head.

Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her.

He doesn't kiss her.

“I’ll see you when you get back.”

It was around 4am when they all walked back to their rooms, after a quick stop at McDonalds for some food. Kate had a flight in about five hours and Anthony left their friends to walk her to their room.

Kate’s smile is playful as she hands him back his suit jacket . “Not if I see you first.”

Kate flies to the Netherlands with the botanist society the next morning and Anthony goes home to London. He desperately needed a distraction and his family were the perfect fit. He brought Gregory to football, Hyacinth to swimming and spent the night with all of them while their mother went out with some of her friends.

He couldn’t focus on any of his readings for his lectures.

He couldn't stop thinking about her.

Nothing could distract him from his thoughts. The more he thought about her, the more he realized what an idiot he’d been.

He should have kissed her. He should have kissed at the ball, he should have kissed her in Kent, there were a thousand different times he should have kissed her.

It suddenly clicked. He couldn’t deny it anymore. The final piece of the puzzle.

He was in love with Kate Sheffield.

After the long weekend, he arrived in Oxford after Kate did. He had spent the day having a Sunday roast with his family before driving back to university.

His hands were shaking as he heard of his phone buzz, seeing Kate’s name appearing on his screen.

Kate: i’m back! Where are you?

Anthony: Just parked. Where are you? I’ll come to you

Kate: i’m at the pub! come!

He was going to tell her.

He had to tell her how he felt.

They could make it work.

They had wasted nearly three years not being together.

He didn’t bother going back to his room as he sprinted to their local pub, which was only a five minute walk from their accommodation.

It wasn’t just him. He was sure of it. Right? They had a moment over the summer at Aubrey Hall. There had been so many moments over the years. Kate had always been there for him. They had nearly kissed, they would have kissed if he hadn’t been interrupted. His younger siblings had asked if Kate was coming to visit soon while he went home over the weekend. His family loved her.

He lo-

“Anthony!”

His head flicked around the pub, focusing on the voice that called his name. It belonged to Anna, who was sitting at a table with Rob and Luke. He rushed towards them.

“Hey. Have you seen Kate?”

“She’s busy,” said Anna, the frown on her face evident as she nodded her head towards the bar. Anthony raised a curious eyebrow at her expression before turning around to follow her nod.

Kate was standing with her arms around David, who leans down and kisses her.

He felt something inside of him break.

Kate’s face lights up when she spots him and Anthony manages a smile, ignoring the pain in his chest.

“Anthony!” Kate said, walking towards him with a grin as she wrapped her arms around him to pull him in for a hug. “This is David.”

“I really like him. Please be nice,” Kate whispered in his ear, smiling up at him before taking a step back.

Kate looked so happy.

David grins at Anthony, placing two pints on the table before extending his hand. “Hey mate, nice to meet you.”

He had to remind himself, having Kate was better than not having her at all.

He couldn’t be a dick. He couldn’t push her away.

He swallows the vile taste in his mouth, mustering a smile as he shook his hand. “Hi. Nice to meet you. So, how was the trip?”

He sits there and he listens as they talk about their trip. David is a biologist.

It becomes clear quite quickly David is everything Anthony isn’t.

Anthony hated flowers. Flowers and plants usually meant bees.

“I’ll be right back,” Anthony said, standing up and grabbing his coat as he walked out of the pub. He walks around the side, where there’s no smokers or people chatting. He leans his head against the brick wall and tries to breathe.

He reaches for his phone, sending a text Benedict. He needed his brother. He needs someone. He couldn’t have Kate. His chest was so tight, he was finding is hard to breathe.

“I was wondering where you got off to.”

Anthony’s head snapped up as he saw Kate standing a few inches from him, looking at him curiously. He tries to control his breathing. She looks concerned, walking towards him. “Is everything okay?”

Anthony nodded, trying to relax and he stood up straighter. “Long day with the family. I’m just exhausted.”

He didn’t want to ask, but he did. He had to. “So, how did you two happen?”

The soft smile that breaks out on her face nearly destroys him, but he tries to smile back. “We met at the party, but I didn’t think anything would actually happen. We’ve seen each other at events and meetings for the past few weeks. He’s nice, you know? We have a lot in common. He told me he liked me during the trip and asked me to go to dinner. He bought me flowers. It was sweet.”

Kate had once told Anthony that she was the only person to ever buy her flowers. He had sent them to her every birthday and Christmas since then.

Now he wasn’t.

That was another thing David had taken from him.

“Do you like him?” Kate asked, taking a sip of her glass of water. She looks hesitant as she asks the question and Anthony knows he has to be careful. He doesn’t want to hurt her, none of this is her fault.

He had been wrong about everything.

No. “I suppose. I don’t really know him.”

“Anthony.”

“He seems nice.”

“Why do I bother asking?” Kate teased, taking a sip of her drink. “You don’t like anyone.”

Anthony didn’t miss a beat. “I like you.”

Anthony wanted to bitterly laugh at the irony of it all, but he stopped himself. This wasn’t about him.

Kate rolled her eyes. “I like you too. Seriously, though. It’s important to me that you like him.”

He pretends to look at the group of people ahead of them, just to avoid looking at her. “I want you to be happy. If he makes you happy, that’s all that matters.”

Even if it makes him feel like this.

Kate hesitates, before giving him an affirming nod. “I am.”

He swallows hard. “Good.”

She leans her head against his shoulder, and they stand there in silence. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s just silence.

“We’ll always be friends, right?” Kate breaks it eventually, shaking her head. “God, I sound so childish. I just mean-we’re graduating soon. I know we’re both moving to London. I just-I don’t want us to drift apart.”

Anthony swallows his feelings and shakes his head, smiling playfully at her. “Do you think you can get rid of me, Sheffield?”

“Never, Bridgerton,” She said, laughing at him. It was ridiculous how her smile and laugh made him feel so light and free. He didn’t have the right to feel like that with her. Not like this. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Let's go back inside.”

He can’t sit in there for the next hour and watch them. The thought alone makes him nauseous. “I’m going to head back. I’m shattered and I have some reading to do for the seminar tomorrow.”

Kate looks slightly disappointed, but she musters a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” They walked to the font of the pub and he smiled as she walked in, turning around to shoot him a smile over her shoulder as she walked in.

He watched her through the window, joining the table where their friends sat. He watched David’s arm wrap around her shoulders and Kate’s head fall back as she laughed at something he whispered into her ear.

She looked happy.

It isn’t because of him.

That’s a particularly hard pill to swallow.

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 6.5}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 6.3k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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Five minutes to one thirty, the beginning of defense class. Robin sauntered towards her second row seat with a sigh, dropping down with a smile. Not even half an hour until something would be happening at last, and she already couldn't wait anymore. The entire day had been filled with little but guessing what would be happening, with anticipation and giddiness. Good thing that Morgan wasn't here yet; at least she could keep smiling for another five minutes before it would bring her into a vulnerable position. Or so she thought.

"Hey." A hoarse voice sounded from right next to her, and Robin jumped on the inside, however not even remotely on the outside. At least for Morgan's classes, she always plastered on her thickest facades, and that was her luck now. In an instant Robin turned her head to who was now sitting next to her, surprised to be spoken to at all, and her eyes fell onto the last person she would have expected. Alexander Downing.

For a moment, she just frowned at him in silence, unsure what to say or even if to say anything at all. She hadn't really spoken to him ever since he had stopped bothering her somewhere in her earlier years at Hogwarts, and he had never made an attempt to converse with her either. Until now.

"Uh, I heard it's your birthday today, is that true?" He asked after a moment of awkward silence, with a nervous half smile. Robin's frown only deepened in confusion. What advantage would he gain out of that knowledge? Little… so it was safe to answer.

"It is." She replied neutrally, in her best facade, politely and calmly but without any hint of emotion. Those she had enough on the inside. This surely wasn't what was supposed to happen in half an hour, was it? No… she couldn't imagine that.

"Happy birthday, in that case." He smiled at her, a crooked smile that conveyed enough nervousness to make Robin question his intentions even more. Just out of instinct, or should she call it habit, she held onto her backpack a little tighter, kept tension in all important muscle groups and always had an eye on her surroundings. Whatever he was trying to distract her from, she wouldn't be fooled.

"Thank you." She said though, with a polite but cold smile in return.

"I, uh… do you mind if I sit here with you for today's class?" He asked after another pause, balling the fabric of his trousers in his fists only to release it again a second later. "I forgot my textbook and I thought perhaps… we could share for today?"

Robin wanted to say no. Everything within her said no. "Certainly." Damnit, brain! If only she had the heart to be mean now, for her own sake. But somehow she could only ever be mean in return, never the one to start.

"Thank you…" He let out a relieved breath and another nervous laugh. "I really wasn't sure if you would be willing to."

Instead of giving a verbal reply, Robin summoned her book out of her bag, then placed it on the empty desk in between them. Another minute of silence passed.

"You know, I… uh…" He started again, and Robin dutifully turned to give him a suitable amount of her attention, eyebrows risen. "You have a pretty flower in your hair."

"I am aware. Thank you."

"I'm not good with flowers, or plants in general… but you're really into herbology, aren't you?"

"I deem it highly useful as a study of ingredients for potion making."

"Ah." He said awkwardly, looking down at his desk for a moment before he got out parchment and quill at last. Scribbling the date on top. "So, uh… potions, huh?"

"What about potions?" Robin frowned at him in question and still hugged her backpack to her chest. What exactly did he want from her? Uphold a conversation? Ask for tutoring? He most definitely wasn't sitting here because of a forgotten book.

"You liked the subject before? Or did you… I mean, do you take the N.E.W.T potions class?" He inquired, tapping his quill on the parchment in a way that almost smudged the entire page. Robin shuddered inwardly.

"I continued potions class, yes. It is my favorite subject."

"Cool…" He nodded to himself, turning back to his desk. It was absolutely obvious that he wanted to say something, Robin could tell even without looking at him. He made an attempt to start speaking a few times, subtly, in the belief Robin hadn't noticed. Only when the clock told them it was time for class to start, he finally found his voice again. "Uh, look Robin, I… you…"

"I am listening." She said, once he stopped with a frown to scratch his neck, but she kept looking at him in cool consideration.

"You are-..." He was cut off then by Morgan, who came sauntering down the few stairs from his office.

"Good morning, class! Beautiful day, is it not?" The professor smiled brightly and feignedly as ever, and the usual bunch of girls in the back rows started giggling. Robin groaned under her breath, rolling her eyes when nobody was looking, and then went back to perfect neutrality. Less than thirty minutes. She could do that.

… … …

Honestly, she couldn't focus. Fifteen minutes had passed, crippled away in a slow death, and every new minute had felt longer than the previous one. If Morgan made any more useless comments just to hear the girls in the back fawning over him, Robin would hit her head against her desk until either broke into pieces.

Twenty minutes into class… oh bloody hell, waiting was painful.

Twenty one… She had already read the chapter they were being introduced to now, and it was dreadfully boring to hear it all again, at a pace even the last idiot could follow.

Twenty two… Alexander next to her was actually taking notes of what Morgan said. Robin hadn't even bothered getting out parchment and quill in the first place.

Twenty three… His handwriting was messy. Not the nice kind of messy that held a certain aesthetic of knowledge and experience, like Snape's, but the kind of messy you would expect from a child in kindergarten.

Twenty four… The stupid paint on her face was starting to itch, and she had been dying to rub her eyes all day, only to be reminded by her subconscious mind that she would smudge the entire makeup thing.

Twenty five… Morgan was demonstrating a spell, but Snape had shown Robin a far better one that did the same thing, when they'd talked about the current dada subject in the lab three nights ago.

Twenty six… A tap on Robin's shoulder. She turned around to look at Melody Sparks in the row behind her. Gods, she couldn't believe that she had actually lived with that girl for over three years. Luckily that was long over now. Alexander turned around to the girl behind them as well.

"Hey jay…" Melody sneered with a crude grin. "Cute flower you've got there. Did you steal it from a graveyard?"

Robin gave her a cold glare for a moment, one of the kind that conveyed a bone deep chill, and Melody actually did look mildly frightened. Content with the reaction, Robin turned back around, even if the sight of Morgan wasn't any better.

"Alex!" Melody said quickly, before the boy could turn back to the front as well. It didn't need more than that one word for Robin to know that the girl was head over heels for him. Geez… she had no intention to get involved in any of that. "Alex, do you wanna hang out later?"

"Uh, I…" He croaked out, looking from Melody to Robin and back. Robin didn't look at either of them. "Sorry, Melody, but I really have to study for… charms."

Melody scoffed and leaned back in her chair, and Robin's neutral indifference took on a slightly more humored tone.

Twenty seven… Robin's heart picked up speed in anticipation once again. Three more minutes until precisely two o'clock. What would happen? Would anything happen at all?

Twenty eight… Alexander turned to Robin once again, with a nervous frown on his face.

"Uh, Robin?"

She returned the gaze expectantly and with seemingly more attention than she actually was willing to give him. But pretending to listen was a skill she had acquired long ago.

"I know I wasn't always nice to you and… all that… but look, I don't care what people say about you! You're not as terrifying as everyone claims, leave alone as obnoxious!" He said, and almost stumbled over his own words while he made small tears into the page on the desk in front of him. Robin didn't know what brought her more discomfort, his words or that maltreatment of parchment. "Actually… I think that your mysterious and… kinda scary demeanor is rather... attractive? I mean… crazy is kinda hot, right? Eh… I know that the others make fun of your hair, or… or call you a corpse because of your skin tone, or joke about where you got that scar from… but I don't mind at all! So… I was just wondering if you'd like to… you know… study with me, sometime?"

Twenty nine… Couldn't he have waited another freaking minute with… whatever he was doing here?! Robin felt overwhelmed, more insulted than flattered, and thus she simply stared at Alexander with a frown. Was he trying to mock her? Because nobody could seriously believe what he'd just said to be a compliment. Honestly, she hadn't known half of what he was saying, hadn't heard a word of it, for people usually didn't dare to insult her straight up. That was only left for Morgan to do.

"Am I boring you, Miss Mitchell?" The man in question asked sharply as he stepped up to Robin's desk with a piercing glare.

"Yes." She replied without pulling a face in the slightest, as she merely turned to look up at him with her perfect neutrality as always. Around her, the classroom burst out into whispers and snorts, quiet laughter even. Morgan looked entirely appalled.

Thirty… It was two o'clock at last, and Robin's heart skipped a beat. She ignored Alexander's questioning looks as well Morgan's angry glares, they both didn't matter right now, for she had no intention to make friends nor enemies today. The seconds ticked by, slower than her heartbeats… she was prepared for anything, anything that wasn't nothing. And just when Morgan moved to unleash his wrath upon her, the door finally flew open with a start.

A spate of billowing black took over the room, followed by a wave of immediate silence and attention, and Robin had to clench her teeth to keep her face neutral instead of grinning like an idiot. What Morgan couldn't do with a hundred words, Snape did with his mere presence. It was a feast for Robin's pride in her allegiance.

"Severus!" Morgan actually seemed to be just as startled as most of his students, and no less intimidated by the dangerously grave expression on Snape's face. "I… I'm in the middle of a sixth year class. Is whatever brings you here important enough to warrant such a… sudden disturbance?"

"Obviously."

"What is it I can help you with, then?" Morgan raised his eyebrows in a ridiculous gesture of defiance, which was the last thing Robin saw before he moved to stand with his back to her. That put him right in between her and Snape, as if blocking either from the other, and Robin couldn't tell if he was doing it intentionally or not, and even less to whose benefits his actions might be in that case.

"The headmaster wishes to speak to Miss Mitchell. I ought to see to it that she finds her way to his office… immediately." Snape replied tersely, and every single thing about his demeanor conveyed the gravity of the issue. "And for her not to let fear dictate her actions."

Robin's heart stopped for a second; had she actually done anything wrong? He knew that she wasn't scared of anyone but herself… and he very well knew that Morgan was the last person she wanted to know of her weaknesses. So why that last sentence? Let fear dictate her actions? Then it dawned on her: play along, Snape had said this morning. And playing along she did now, blindly trusting him in this act as she put on her best frightened face. A dash of guilt, a layer of despise… the perfect 'bloody hell I got caught' facade.

Admittedly, she had previously worked very hard on her indifference around Morgan, on the irradiation of any visible weakness, but if Snape deemed it important to change that strategy now, she would trust him with it and play along indeed. He was the true master of deceit, after all, and he knew of the recent increase in her troubles with Morgan. Perhaps that's what this all was about, a change of strategy to deal with him. She would have to ask Snape later.

Morgan moved a step to the side then and looked at Robin just in time to get a good glimpse of her best act. His lips immediately curled into a dark grin that was dripping with bitter spite. "Look at that, the little songbird has finally been caught. One can only hope you don't lose your voice when they put you in a cage."

His words sent a cold shiver all the way along Robin's spine, and while she didn't let that get to her for real, it served her to step up her act even more. With huge, frightened eyes she looked up at the two men in front of her, making herself as small and fragile as possible. It contradicted everything she had tried to display before, everything she was and had done until minutes ago, but still it was terribly easy to play the part now. And while Morgan basked in her feigned vulnerability, Snape's grave expression actually gained a subtle touch of hesitation. Not enough to be known, by far not, but enough for Robin to catch.

She averted her eyes then as she grabbed her book off the table painfully slowly, sighing inwardly in relief when she rose to her feet and held her backpack in her hands in front of her. The act was pathetic, but obviously necessary for some reason she was yet to understand. But at least the situation allowed her to withdraw herself from both Alexander and Morgan, as well as from the room overall. The entire class was still dead silent, and when she subtly looked around at some of the faces, all she saw was pity. They might not like her much, but obviously nobody despised her enough at this point to wish her a fate like the one she seemed to be facing. Little did they know that Snape had come as her salvation, not as her doom. But he did play his part magnificently indeed, and when he pushed Robin out of the room by her shoulder without another word to Morgan, she had to remind herself for a moment that she wasn't actually in trouble. Hopefully.

… … …

The heavy door fell shut behind them and they were alone at last, out of sight with a mere few steps along the hallway. Only then Snape stopped pushing her ahead of himself, dropping his hand from the top of her shoulder to the small of her back as he came to walk next to her instead. The touch left a burning trace along her back even in its subtlety, eradicating every bit of cold Morgan's words had left behind. Robin let out a long but controlled breath as they sauntered down the hallway next to each other; she didn't know what to ask first, so perhaps she should start with the obvious.

"That really was a save in the last second…" She said with a half smile directed at the man next to her. He still looked upset, but his lingering touch on her back was a good indicator that he wasn't upset about her, at least. "I'm not really in trouble, am I? Because you surely are very convincing in your resentment even now."

"You are free of any admonition… It is Morgan who concerns me."

"Why? What's with him?"

"Does he always speak to you in that manner?"

"Not all the time, but it isn't unusual either." Robin shrugged with one shoulder. "He seems to take great delight in my suffering though. Not just academically, but in seeing bad things happening to me in general. Remember the one time I got knocked into a wall during his class? About two weeks ago?"

"You mentioned it, yes."

"He actually smiled the entire time while I was crippled on the floor and hardly able to breathe."

"And you expect me not to be concerned about that?" He frowned at Robin, steering her into a hallway to the right.

"Well… I told you it's been getting worse since the beginning of the year. So in a way, you could say I'm concerned as well. But more for my nerves than my health; that man is mental torture!"

"Either way, today's… theatre should keep him at a distance for a while." He mused with a small sigh that was both annoyed and hopeful at once. An odd combination. "Say, was any of that real?"

"What do you mean?"

"Were you actually quite so… terrified?"

"No. Uncomfortable and a little annoyed perhaps, but not scared." Robin replied with a growing smirk. "You couldn't tell if it was feigned or not? That has to be a new personal best in my acting skills! If I can make you believe it, I can fool anyone."

"I rather hope you will not test that theory. Especially not on me."

"Don't worry… All you see is sincerely me." She smiled at the accidental rhyme for a second, then her brows furrowed ever so slightly. "Why did I have to play that pathetic, terrified girl though? Why destroy the perfect indifference I have actually managed to make him believe? Why today?"

"Damion Morgan is the kind of person who will torment you until he believes you to be broken and subdued. At this point, your only chance to be left alone is to make him believe that he has won at last."

"But I don't want to surrender to him! I'm not scared of him or whatever he'll do to try to drag me down. I can handle him." Robin protested mildly, even if she understood his reasoning very well. "You were the one who told me to be better than him, so why do you want me to just give up now?"

"I'm not asking you to surrender and give up, but to pretend that you do. I know that you could very well drive him to insanity without an actual effort, but I ask you to make him believe that he has the upper hand."

"But why? I can handle him!" Robin asked in almost a whine. She had fought so hard to be better… to let Morgan run into walls no matter from which side he tried to come at her. She had always succeeded as of yet, sometimes with more losses than gain, but she had always stayed on top. And now Snape wanted her to give all that up? "I'm just annoyed by him, that's all. I don't care if he laughs at my pain or makes scary comments about my impediment demise."

"But I do." Snape said so sincerely that a little bit of Robin's resistance melted away immediately. "Please, Robin… Pretend to surrender."

"Everybody will believe me to be vulnerable if I pretend to be! What if, in addition to Morgan, everyone else starts picking on me again as well?"

"Why do you have to be so ridiculously stubborn?!" He grumbled and rolled his eyes at her, but at the same time his fingers dug into her back just a little bit more. It sent a new heatwave through her body immediately. "You do not have to be vulnerable or submissive in order to let him believe he has the upper hand! Use that brilliant mind of yours, you can find another way to fool him into thinking what we want him to think."

"I don't know…" Robin sighed, and before she knew, he had stopped her in her track and turned her around to face him. Another heatwave.

"Do you want me to beg you?!" He asked while his eyes dug soul deep into hers. "Because I will if that is what it takes. You need to convince him that he has the upper hand."

For a moment, Robin's heart stopped beating and time froze to a stillstand. She had never seen him quite so desperate about anything, even if it was still hidden under a layer of composure that was surely exhausting to uphold. Why did he want her to make Morgan believe he had won quite so badly? It didn't matter… not really.

"Alright." She said in a quiet voice, sad eyes holding his gaze. "I'll lay low. Pretend to surrender. Neutrality has barely worked up to this point; perhaps your approach will prove more successful."

"Thank you!" He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, then his hand found Robin's back again as they continued on down the hallway, as if nothing had disrupted their walk in the first place.

"Sorry…" Robin breathed with a small spark of guilt nagging at her conscience. She'd really been rather difficult about this, especially when he just wanted to help her. She had even asked him to help her with Morgan! And obviously he took that task seriously.

"I would rather you scrutinise me than blindly follow any order." He replied with a sigh. "And as for your question about why today, I thought it would be obvious enough, on the surface at least."

"Enlighten me."

"It is your birthday. I was under the impression that you would rather spend it anywhere but in Morgan's classroom."

"Oh, definitely the right impression!" Robin chuckled, and finally the smile returned to her face with the sound. "I was stuck between Morgan's wrath and Alexander's… I don't even know."

"Alexander Downing?" Snape quirked an eyebrow at her in clear distaste for the subject. She couldn't blame him.

"Unfortunately. He was sitting next to me, as you probably saw, because he wanted to share my textbook. But then he kept on talking to me." Robin rolled her eyes now, still feeling irritated by the boy's odd behavior. "It was awful."

"What did he want? I haven't seen you two… conversing before."

"Because we haven't! And I honestly don't know what his true intentions were; he was nervous the entire time and his words left me no wiser."

"What did he say?"

"Well, first he…" Robin stopped in her sentence for a moment, considering if she really wanted to tell Snape what Alexander had said, in all its irritability. Oh to hell with it, why not? "First he said that - and I’m quoting here - I'm 'hot' despite being terrifying and crazy, in his opinion. Then he said people make fun of my hair and my complexion, and finally he asked me if I would fancy to study with him some time. I have absolutely no idea how his mind could even try to put that into a coherent, logical statement."

"Have you considered that he simply might be… interested in you?"

"Interested in mocking me, yes. But I rather think he was trying to get me to help him with his homework, you know, by flattering me. Or what he imagines to be flattery anyway."

"Either way, it makes me believe that my entrance was indeed a… save in the last second, as you put it."

"Yes! Absolutely!" Robin laughed, and when she looked up at Snape, she saw a not-smirk playing on his lips as well. Always a reason for her own smile to brighten inevitably. "So… now that you saved me from a horrible class, a madman and a teenage boy, where exactly are we going?"

"Precisely where I said we were going. To see the headmaster."

Robin's eyes widened in an instant, and her heart skipped a beat in a subtle touch of anxiety. "But… you said I wasn't in trouble!"

"You aren't. I do not lie, just as you don't."

"Then you're confusing me on purpose, already for the second time today!"

"And did the first time end so badly for you?"

"Well-... No." Robin sighed with an exaggerated eye rolling. He was insufferable when he was right.

"In that case, you might want to consider simply trusting me." He replied with a smug expression and a small smirk, and just from the sight of it alone Robin had to smirk as well. Whatever he was up to, it certainly wouldn't end to her disadvantage.

… … …

Robin was the first to enter Dumbledore's office after knocking and not getting a reply. Snape had told her to go in anyway, and he followed shortly behind her himself. While he closed the door, Robin walked ahead, scanning the crowded space for a moment and letting her eyes travel over the obscure objects she had never really had the time to inspect. This place was like a miniature version of the room of hidden things… so much to wonder about, yet so much to frown upon. Eventually her eyes fell onto the sorting hat high up on a shelf, and she stared at it for a moment before turning back to Snape.

"Is the sorting hat just collecting dust up there all year until the beginning of a new term? Or does it have any other purpose than that?" She asked in a quiet tone that just seemed appropriate for the thick silence of the office. Before Snape had any chance to answer her however, a different voice did just that in his turn.

"I am not a useless piece of decoration, Miss Mitchell." The hat grumbled, and Robin jumped around to stare at it again. No matter for how many years she watched the sorting ceremony, she couldn't get used to a talking accessory. "And neither am I an accessory!"

Behind her, Snape let out a humored huff that threatened to make Robin smile as well, hadn't it been for the hat who still gave her the chills.

"You have nothing to be amused about, Severus Snape!" The hat addressed Snape and Robin's eyebrows rose in surprise. Now she did smirk indeed, and it immediately drew the hat's attention back to her. "Neither have you!"

"Well… uh, sorry." Robin said with a small frown directed high up at the hat. "I… we… didn't mean to insult you. But you can't really expect us to know any better if all one sees of you is the sorting ceremony."

"I see you haven't let your house taint your candour in the least." The hat replied in a tone that made Robin frown even more. "The little girl I placed in Slytherin has risen to her grandeur indeed."

"What do you mean by that?" Robin inquired and crossed her arms over her chest while she felt Snape's presence coming closer behind her. She liked that they were on the same side of the conversation for once. And she liked that he was having her back.

"I mean that the girl I placed in Slytherin was by far not a perfect fit for the house of the serpent."

"Then why did you do it?" She asked, trying to keep her voice neutral instead of letting on how the air seemed to vanish out of the room. "Why place me in a house you don't think I belong into?"

"You need to listen more carefully; I said the girl I placed in Slytherin did not belong there. I never said you do not belong there now." The hat replied in an almost scolding manner. "I placed you in your house not because of who you were, but because of who you were going to be. Who you are now."

"That doesn't make any sense. You said that the house hasn't changed me, and yet I didn't belong here before I was who I am now. You have to see how that's contradictory, don't you?"

"The fact that you do not understand it as of yet does not make it any less sensical. Placing you in Slytherin was the necessary thing to do, and it is more obvious now than ever." The hat stated in such a certainty that Robin didn't know what to reply, so she left the talking to the odd piece of clothing. "A mistake made in the past has been corrected at last."

"But-..." Robin started, however she didn't get further when Snape's hand returned to the small of her back and he leaned in close enough for her to hear his words.

"Arguing with the hat is pointless. It will never reveal to you what it does not want to be known." He spoke quietly, and his breath fanned against the delicate skin of her neck in a way that sent a pleasant shudder through her in an instant. Hopefully the hat didn't read her mind now, out of all times… that would not only cause her trouble, but be terribly embarrassing as well.

"Please excuse my delay, I was kept busy by an urgent owl from the ministry." Dumbledore's voice from further down into the room startled both Robin and Snape for once, and in an instant there was an ineffable amount of space between them again. She surely hadn't imagined the whole thing now, had she? There was no time to dwell on it, for Dumbledore was a man who demanded the full attention of everyone present, and now was no exception to that.

"Headmaster." Snape greeted politely, with a hinted nod in acknowledgement. "Thank you for agreeing to hear me about my inquiry."

"Now, Severus, that certainly is nothing to thank me for." Dumbledore smiled that stupid small smile again, and Robin couldn't help deeming him just as deliberately inconcise as the hat had been. The thought lingered only until he turned his head to look at her however. "Miss Mitchell, what a delightful surprise to see you. Given the chance, I would like to wish you a truly happy birthday."

"Thank you." Robin replied with a half smile. "I appreciate that."

"What a lovely flower you have there… A gift, I presume?" The old man raised his eyebrows at her almost knowingly.

"Not a gift." Robin replied quickly as she dropped her arms to her sides to at least somehow demonstrate a subtle touch of confidence. "Merely a point proven."

"I see." Dumbledore's smile widened for a moment, then he went back to his constantly mild facade. "It suits you rather well, if I may say so."

"Certainly you may. Thank you."

"Headmaster, I would like to ask for your permission on an issue of importance to me." Snape finally said, changing the topic as he most definitely picked up on Robin's discomfort even if he stood a good four steps away now. Gods, she was glad for that talent of his.

"What issue?" Dumbledore turned to look at him, releasing Robin from his focus and she honestly felt grateful for that as well.

"I would like to take Miss Mitchell on an… excursion this Saturday." Snape said ever neutrally, and Robin's heart skipped a beat. He wanted what?! "She has made remarkable progress in her studies of uncommon substances, and I would like to give her the opportunity to test one of her theories at least. Under my supervision, of course."

Robin merely blinked at Snape at first, stunned to silence, then she looked over to Dumbledore with no less surprise and back to Snape at last. He actually wanted to do this? Together with her?! Sure, she was aware that he had liked her handbook, he'd told her that much without words even, but she hadn't known that he deemed her studies worth this effort and trouble.

"Is that so?" Dumbledore smiled at Snape first, then at Robin. "How many theories do you have?"

"How much time do you have?" Robin returned in a huff without thinking, and out of the corner of her eyes she saw the not-smirk on Snape's face. When she looked at him in a silent question, asking 'should I?' with her gaze alone, he replied an unmistakable 'yes.' the same way, and Robin's lips tugged into the slightest smile upon their ability to understand each other even without words. Especially without words. Then she summoned her handbook out of her backpack, and walked the few steps to Dumbledore's desk to place it in front of him.

The headmaster looked partially amused, partially surprised when he pushed his reading glasses up his nose and started scanning over the many pages filled with Robin's writing, drawings and cutouts. For a few minutes he flipped through the book carefully, much to her appreciation, until finally he returned the journal with a sincere smile and a small nod.

"Impressive. A thorough and professional study indeed." Dumbledore mused while Robin moved back to stand next to Snape, a good step closer than before, but she could always blame it on coincidence. "I could not say that I know even half of these matters half as well as you obviously do."

"Thank you." She finally replied, giving the headmaster a nod in acknowledgement before she moved to store her journal back in her backpack. "I have been working on this for a while now, but I haven't been able to verify any of it yet."

"Which, precisely, is why I want to encourage the effort to do so." Snape added not even a second later, and they both looked at Dumbledore expectantly, who however only smiled at them for a moment in return.

"Did you two plan this inquiry ahead of time?" He asked with a sincerely humored expression, observing both Snape and Robin with a carefully considering gaze.

"No." Both of them replied at the same time, upon which their heads turned to look at each other in an instant and synchrony. Robin bit her lip to keep from smiling, which only worked partially however when she saw Snape’s surprised face.

"Either way," Dumbledore said with another sincere smile, "I believe your wish to encourage Miss Mitchell in her studies to be justified, Severus. I very much approve of your inquiry, and I would like to encourage it even. Take all of Saturday, both of you. Perhaps you could bring back one or another specimen for the greenhouse, if your excursion should prove any of your theories correct."

"Thank you, headmaster." Snape was first to reply, back to stoicism as ever.

"Yes, thank you!" Robin also added, even if it hadn't been her inquiry in the first place. But it was about her, after all. "I'm sure we can find something new for the greenhouse."

"I have no doubt you will." Dumbledore returned with a nod, and leaned back in his chair at last. "Good luck to you, but do be careful. Straying off the common path proves a risk at times, even for the most… accomplished witches and wizards."

Both nodded, and after saying their polite goodbyes, first Robin and then Snape left the headmaster's stuffy office to skip down the narrow spiral staircase until at last they were back in the hallways.

"So…" Robin started with a small smirk as they were once again sauntering through the empty space. "You couldn't have told me of that plan beforehand?"

"Would it have changed anything?" He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Besides taking away from your suspense and my amusement?"

"No… not really." She chuckled in return. "May I consider this as a gift then, at least?"

"Yes."

"In that case, thank you very much. I already can't wait for Saturday."

"As… reluctant as I am to admit it, I am rather looking forward to it as well." He sighed, but it couldn't lessen the fact that his subtle smile was obvious as day to Robin. Her heart soared at the sight. It didn't even matter that he was probably looking forward to some practical research rather than to spending time with her, but either was perfectly fine in this case.

"And now?" She finally asked, leaning her head to the side as she looked up at him. "There's still twenty minutes of class time left, officially."

"In that case, we perhaps should see to it that we get out of the castle before the students flood the halls." He mused as he returned her gaze with a humored expression. "Care for a walk?"

"Obviously." She grinned as she finally swung her backpack over her shoulders where it belonged. "I take it then that you're not returning me to Morgan's purgatory? I'm surprised. Professor..."

"As if I would even consider that in the first place… I am the only one who may torment you." He rolled his eyes at her exaggeratedly, but with a not-smirk nonetheless. "Happy birthday, Robin."

______________________________

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og-danny-dorito · 4 years

Text

[ Haikyuu!! Characters As Vibe Checked By Me But It’s Only The One’s I’ve Seen Before ]

i literally haven’t watched a single second of this anime but here’s my vibe check of the characters i’ve seen. might upload a part 2 but idk

✨🥕carrot boy🥕✨ :

- B A B E Y

- LOOK AT H E

- he smile,,, he p u r e

- arguably my favorite out of all of the ones on this list just because he’s so fucking CUTE

- i want to give him a gentle kith on the cheek and a juice pack and tell him he’s doing alright in life cause he looks like he needs daily doses of affection to function through the day

- a friend told me he looks scary when he’s mad and like?? i can kinda see it he has that vibe but not by much

- probably gay for the taller emo dude he hangs out with that calls him “boke”

- he looks like he doesn’t know where babies come from

- overal rating 1000/10 hes very cute

🦉 boy :

- idk who the protagonist is but i have a feeling it’s this mfer just from how weird his hairstyle is

- gives me golden retriever energy with a hint of fuckboy in there purely because people simp HARD for him

- why does he look like that though like??

- i’m not COMPLAINING like i’d let him hit it for free but why is he serving Owl Realness? bird entergy? like he was probably an owl in a past life and still gets scared when he sees foxes or big dogs

- he looks like he yells unintentionally

- probably gives really good hugs

- also has no idea where babies come from, but he has the decency to pretend like he does

- 9/10 solely because i dont like birds and he looks like one

✨wtf✨ :

- the only thing i know him from is that clip of him laughing and all i can say is: w h y

- ya’ll thirst over him,,, and for what?

- like yeah he looks like the only somewhat grown one out of this list so far but,,,

- there’s so many things that i have questions about and hypothetically i don’t think i’d be receiving good answers for them

- OH WAIT i also know him from that “oya oya” clip with owl boy

- i feel like i’d wanna fight this dude but get my ass BODIED within the first five seconds

- ive deduced that anyone who likes him probably has daddy issues no i will not be taking constructive criticism

- 5/10 i dont like the way he’s looking at me

tennis ball 🎾🏸 :

- i want to hit him.

- no like i dont think you know how strong my urge is to just clock this mf

- like you know the fight or flight sense? yeah im skipping that second one we goin straight to fight

- i dont know if he’s sleep deprived or only puts eyeliner under his eyes but regardless he looks intimidating

- from my extensive knowledge of anime tropes i have a feeling that he’s actually really sweet and kind and all that shit but like

- i dont know what it is about him that makes me want to throw hands but it’s there

- fuck this guy 4/10

✨🥕carrot boy’s🥕✨ brunette twin :

- EXACT same vibes as carrot boy but with a hint of chaotic dumbass in there

- he looks like he eats oreos by taking apart the cream filling and then putting the cookies back in the container for “later” when he’s just gonna leave them there for 3 months

- he kinda looks like a toned down doctor stone for some reason

- has short person energy

- also probably a twink cause like,,, look at him

- he’s not exactly pure but like he looks like he’s impossibly nice to people

- like he looks like people subconsciously adopt him left and right just because he gives off unguided child energy

- helps old ladies cross the street and is probably really good at taking care of children

- 10/10 very cute

michael? is that you? :

- kinda unrelated but why does michael jackson keep getting reincarnated as different flavors of anime boy? like is there a reason?

- hee hee lookin ass bitch 🕴🏻🕴🏻🕴🏻

- he looks like he moonwalks wherever he goes

- also apparently he’s a germaphobe? which like,,, same so i get it but at the same time he looks like the kinda dude to have about 50 of those little germ-x pouches hanging off of every bag he owns

- i can just tell from glancing at him that he’s dead inside

- look at those eyes. he’s seen everything the world has to offer and feels nothing now because of it

- calls people “filthy peasant” unironically

- 3.5/10 you’re just a mj in a different font but get a half a point cause i like your face

[ Thanks For Reading! ]

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asteriismos · 4 years

Text

as the rush comes - bill denbrough

warning(s) : smut, bill is like 30 something and the reader is like 24 so age gap, inappropriate relationship, bill and his wife are separated, oral sex ( fem receiving ),

words : 4.7k

request(s):

imma just request bill cheating on his wife with the reader😳💅🏼

“. . . and can you call to move the meeting on thursday to five o’clock instead of four o’clock?”

“yes, sir.”

“y/n, you’ve been working for me for almost three months now, you can call me bill.”

you looked up from your laptop at him, fingers stalling on the keys as you were typing the changes to bill’s schedule. you gave him a small smile, showing some teeth, then nodding.

about three months ago when you were asking your english professor if there was anything you could be doing to further your image in the writing world, she offered to talk to a friend of hers about possibly offering you some kind of internship. that way you could get some connections come time for someone to read your writing, and a brief look of what being a writer was like on the daily. eager and ambitious as you were, you were quick to accept her offer, earning you an interview to work for bill denbrough.

the first time that you stepped into his house, you were greeted by his wife audra. she had a big smile on her face and told you that you’d possibly be able to help bill de-stress a little bit by helping with his scheduling. but when you stepped into bill's office, you were a little blown away.

you had expected for bill to be older, especially with the way that he wrote his books. you’d read a few, deducting that bill must’ve had to be older to create such beautifully crafted stories as he did. the way that his words were stringed so eloquently was enough to make you so eager for him to be a possible mentor for him that you didn’t even believe that he would be as young as he was. or as hot as he was.

stumbling over your words while sitting in the chair opposite of his across his desk, you somehow got the internship.

bill was kind enough to give you a little office room just beside his own, saying that the room was empty anyways and it would be nice for you to have your own little space in his house.

and that’s where you sat now, at your desk trying your best to work on his growing schedule. bill had another book in the works that he was planning to release early december, and since it was august now, his publisher wanted to meet to start the promotions.

“is there anything else i should know of sir- i mean bill,” you said, shaking your head and feeling your cheeks heat up with your mistake. bill only flashed a smile, shaking his head and running his hand through his hair. that one strand of grey hair that peeked out every once in a while. sometimes when he wasn’t looking, you found yourself scanning over his face, fawning much like a schoolgirl with a crush over him. it was wrong, especially considering he was ten years older than you. and because he had a wife, however absent she’s been for the past month or so. he was still married.

it didn’t take a detective to see that there was something going awry in their marriage. audra wasn’t there to greet you in the mornings anymore when you came over to work on the weekends or even when you stopped by to hand some legal documents late at night. you felt like it wasn’t really your place to question it, no matter how obvious it was that they were having trouble.

“no, nothing for now. why are you here so late on a saturday night? college student like yourself I would assume you’d be out with friends,” he asked you. it was getting late, since the time you were supposed to leave to go home was almost two hours ago. you just shrugged, knowing the real reason that you were here was not the one he wanted to hear. a little, foolish part of you thought that if you spent more time with him that something would happen. it was shameful, you knew it was so wrong to think these things, and yet you still did.

you closed your laptop just a little bit to get a better look at him. he was walking towards you now, leaning over the desk with his hands pushing against it. you saw his knuckles whiten a little bit at the pressure being put on them and you clenched your thighs together, thinking about what those fingers could possibly do to you. “I guess I just like to work for you a lot,” you said, a sheepish smile coming to your face as you gingerly sat back in your seat so you could get a better look at him. “you’re a really good boss.”

he hummed, “yeah, well you’re a good intern.”

feeling your cheeks heat up, you checked the time on your phone, clearing your throat and starting to gather your things. in a pile on your desk, you saw that there were some forms that audra told you to take care of a few days ago. you finished them and was waiting for her to come back, but you still haven't seen her. taking your chance to finally ask bill about his wife, you looked at him and asked, “where’s audra?” you shook your head, realizing that seemed a little straightforward. “I mean, I have these forms for her and I haven’t seen her in a few days. is everything okay?”

bill looked down at the forms and took them from your hands, your hands brushing against each others for just a moment. he gave you a slight grin and shrugged his shoulders. “she’s been out for a couple days. staying at her moms I think.”

“why’s that?” the minute it left your mouth you wanted to smack yourself on the side of the head. you felt as if you were prying for information about stuff that wasn’t yours to know.

“we’re separated at the moment. she wanted to leave for two weeks or so to think.”

suddenly you felt that pit in your stomach widen, wondering why the hell anyone would want to leave bill. he was kind, considerate, intelligent, and a damn good writer if you’ve ever seen one. you couldn’t help but think that if you were mrs y/n denbrough, you wouldn’t waste a single second with the man in front of you. that if you got to wake up to him every morning, you’d roll over on top of him and give him the best morning sex he’s ever had in his life. or if he was having a bad day, you would be there to wrap your arms around him and tell him everything would be okay. it wasn’t just a sexual longing between you two, it was a romantic one too. you wanted to give bill the world and more.

you frowned. “I'm sorry, bill.”

“it’s okay, y/n. I'm sorry for unloading that on you. but I do really appreciate you being here. I think you’ll be my rock for the next couple of weeks, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

the next day you arrived at the denbrough house around seven at night, having taken the morning to get some work done around your dorm and go shopping for the week. you just needed to give the revised schedule for bill’s next week and then you could head back home. when you got there, you let yourself in with the key that was given to you, pushing open the dark brown door of the large house.

the smell of coffee loomed over the whole household, bringing a smile to your face. you weren’t even sure that bill was here, since most lights were off, but the smell of coffee assured you that he was indeed here. if there was one thing you learned about bill over these past couple of months, is that he loved his coffee. every day, in the mornings and at night. he didn’t discriminate.

you walked up the staircase and towards the end of the hallway where his big office was. when you got to the door, you knocked on it, opening the rest of the already cracked door. bill was sat at his desk looming over his computer screen, keyboards clacking with every hand movement of his. his gaze shifted to you, green eyes peering through his glasses that he only really used for writing. you gave him a smile, saying, “sorry to bother you, I just had the revised schedule to give you.” you walked and reached in your bag to grab the papers.

bill nodded. “you know you could’ve just emailed me them, y/n. you didn’t have to come all this way.” you only shrugged your shoulders, biting your bottom lip. your fingers danced along the sheets of paper stuffed in your bag, pulling them out and setting them at the edge of the deck. “thank you,” he said.

your eyes stayed on the papers, ignoring the chills you felt from his gaze on you. you knew that he was looking at you, what you didn’t know was that he was looking at you with the same longing and lust that you looked at him with when he wasn’t looking. right as you were about to turn on your heel and say goodbye, his hand reached and grabbed your wrist, keeping you from walking away and making you look up at him.

he was leaning against the desk, mouth agape staring at you. you gave him a knowing look, feeling fireworks erupt in your stomach at the contact. the only time that bill ever touched you was when he would accidentally bump into you or on the rare occasion that your hands would brush up against each other. those left you with sparks, not the full on fireworks show that his whole hand attached to your wrist gave you. this touch wasn't an accident, it had a meaning behind it. what that meaning was, you didn’t know at first. although it didn’t take you that long to figure out what he was trying to do when each of you subconscious leaned towards each other.

when recalling the moment later, neither of you would know who closed the space between your two faces first. all both of you knew was that you were kissing from across the desk, his hand on your wrist not leaving while you grabbed at his face with your left hand. it was a slow kiss at first, tentatively testing the waters. but that didn’t last very long. because to bill you tasted like that cherry chapstick that you were always putting on and freedom. you tasted like something he never knew he needed in his life. and to you, bill tasted like coffee and relief. relief that you finally were getting what you had secretly longed for.

no, the kiss didn’t stay slow the second it registered in your minds what you were actually doing. bill pulled away from you only a moment, enough time to walk to the end of the desk where you were so he could be closer to you as he pressed his lips onto yours again. your hands reattached themselves to his face, lightly cupping it and relishing in the feeling of his body flush against yours. your back dug lightly into the edge of the desk and you instinctively pushed yourself to sit on top of it, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him as close as he possibly could be.

one of his hands stayed at the back of your neck while the other ran down your side, thumb pressing against your hipbone sending your mind into overdrive. papers and pencils flew to the ground the farther you moved onto the desk, though neither of you cared what was going on around you, all you cared about was getting what you needed : each other.

his lips trailed down from your own to your jawline, teeth pressing against the soft skin that connected your jaw to your neck. you sighed out, hands moving down to his torso and surrendering into his touch as if saying do anything to me, anything you’d like.

and he did, because the second he heard that sigh come from your pretty pink lips he was determined to explore every part that he could of your body. he payed extra attention to your neck, sucking just under your chin, earning a soft moan on your part at the feeling. your hips pressed against his and each of you breathed out, liking that feeling more than anything in the world.

soon enough he was back to kissing you again, hand trailing up your shirt and stopping at your bra. his fingers danced along the band and reached up until he was cupping you through your bra, giving a little squeeze which you keeled into. your own hand pushed up his light sweater he was wearing, so close to pushing it up and off, until a small ounce of guilt found its way into the back of your head.

bill was married, this was wrong, right? no matter how much you wanted him or he wanted you, there was still a band around his left ring finger.

you pulled away from him, slightly panting from the air being restored back into your lungs. bill gave you a quizzical look and you sighed, hands going back to your sides to fiddle with the ends of your shirt. “we shouldn’t be doing this,” you said to him, nodding forward and jumping off the desk. “you’re married and im just- im just me.”

“that’s why I like you, y/n. because you are you. you read my stories and don’t think that they’re terrifying and you always know the right things to say. I want you. you’re not like any other woman I've met in my life,” bill said to you.

you only shook your head, grabbing your bag that had fallen to the floor and muttering a small goodbye to him. from there you made your way outside of the house, closing the front door. for just a moment you leaned against the outside of the door and closed your eyes, not knowing what your next move was.

if there was even a move to make.

you called in sick the day after your little makeout session with bill, deciding that you needed a little bit longer than just twelve hours to think of what the logical response was. not only was bill an older married man that may or may not be divorcing his wife, he was also your boss. what if something went wrong and he fired you? you didn't know if you would ever get an opportunity like this again.

the devil on your shoulder, however, was telling you to go as far as you could with him. after all, bill was obviously reciprocating the same feelings that you were for him. you had basically been lusting for him for over a month now, what was the harm in sleeping with him once? maybe you two just needed to let off some steam and let the sexual tension go and just give into your desires.

because after all, he said that he wanted you.

you came a little earlier to the house than you were supposed to, deciding that if things were to be awkward, you could clock in early and leave early too. you stepped into your office and turned on the light, keeping the door open as you usually did and getting all your stuff set up. you heard a throat clear from behind you and you turned to see bill standing there, his hair disheveled and staring at you with his usual tired eyes. “I missed you yesterday,” he said in a soft voice, giving you a smile.

you smiled back. “me too. I'm sorry about leaving so quickly that day.”

“did you think about what I said before you left?” you grinned, taking a leap of faith. “I did.”

bill walked closer to you, his face inches away from yours. you could feel his breath fan against your face and your legs felt like jelly. he was so close to you that you thought you were going to melt into a puddle of mush just at the mere thought of him touching you again like he had two days ago. or doing more to you. “and what did you think about?”

taking a leap of faith and pushing all coherent thoughts out of your mind, you said, “I want you too.”

and that’s all it took for bill to grab you by the wrist, leading you out of your tiny office and into another room that you haven’t ever been to before. his room. there was a dresser next to the closet and two bookshelves filled with thick books. then there was his bed, which was made rather messily but it added a little charm to the room that made you smile to yourself.

you dropped down on the bed face up, pulling him down on top of you with a giggle. he kissed you again, already realizing how much missed those lips of yours. you’d never get tired of this. not in a million years if this ever happened again which you thoroughly hoped it did.

bill kisses like he’s taking his last dying breaths and you feel yourself drowning in the feeling of his body against yours, taking that chance that you didn’t take two days ago by pushing up his shirt over his head. the second it was off and thrown onto the floor of the room, your hands were gripping and appreciating every taut muscle of his sun kissed skin, he was so much bigger than any guy you’ve ever been with. no one had ever made you feel this way, the sense of longing and desperation, the way that bill did by just kissing you. you knew that you were in for something when you felt his growing hard on press against your inner thigh.

his lips attach to your neck, taking his time to appreciate the soft moans and gasps that left your mouth when he sucked and licked. he pulls away for only a moment to take your shirt off, hands cupping and groping your breasts with such needy force you didn’t know was ever possible. as his left hand gripped your left breast, you didn't feel the cold hard metal of a ring on his finger. he had taken it off. you arched your back up the second his kisses trailed down to the valley of your breasts.

your eyes were screwed shut, leaving you to just your other four senses. you could sense his eyes on your face, watching your facial expressions with every little thing he did.

bill pulled his lips away from your skin just a few centimeters, keeping his eyes on you. “have you done this before?”

you nodded your head, thinking back to the few times that you’ve had sex with another person. it was never really all that fulfilling. sometimes you even wondered if there was something wrong with you because guys would cum and you wouldn’t. they just weren't satisfying enough. “only a few times. but it’s never felt this good before.”

“have you even orgasmed from someone else before?”

heat rose to your cheeks. “no, never,” you replied, suddenly feeling really embarrassed that you were admitting this to him. he probably thought that you were just some stupid girl now.

but he didn’t. if anything, it posed as a challenge for bill. he wanted to give you what all those stupid younger boys couldn’t. the look in his eyes was sinful as he gave you one last look, then resorted to kissing all the way down to your navel, stopping to take a little extra time with the skin right above your pants line. your hands moved up to his hair, feeling the strands interlace with your fingers.

his hands pushed your pants down along with your panties, leaving you completely bare in front of him. you felt insecure, instinctually closing your legs away from him. bill tutted, shaking his head and taking both of his hands to spread your legs open in front of him. he sat there looking at the curve of your hips and the apex of your thighs, eyes landing on your wet center. you looked down at him while he did nothing, only staring at you. you were completely vulnerable, insides screaming for him to just touch you.

in one swift movement, he was kissing the top of your thigh, moving south until his breath was fanning against your center. you thought if you had to wait any longer that you might just die. bill knew this though, winking up at you and burying his face into your heat. the moan that you let out the second he made his first stripe all the way from your entrance to your clit probably could be heard from the neighbors house. no guy had ever gone down on you before, and you couldn’t believe that you were missing this amazing thing in your life.

his hands gripped your thighs to steady himself and also so you couldn’t squirm away from him too much. your heels dug into the top of his back, keeping him close.

his tongue had you reeling for more, heart beating practically out of your chest when he moved to suck on your clit. you pulled on his hair, soft sounds spewing from your lips like it was the only thing that you could really do. all the while he kept his eyes on you, knowing that the would be playing this over and over in his mind for days to come. the way that your eyes were sewn shut, chest arching and heaving. it was almost pornographic.

that pit in your stomach that had been steadily building was growing in size, muscles spasming while you grew towards a peak you’ve never felt with another human before. and you thought about how if he was this good with his tongue, bill must even be better than this with his dick. he knew just the right things to do to you to make you gasping for more, more, more.

“fuck, bill, im so close,” you moaned out, legs clenching together. his tongue guided you towards that peak, it felt like white hot heat the second you hit your high, hips rolling against his face. he helped you come down, giving you a few more licks and rubbing his hands up and down your thighs.

your breathing began to steady and he came up from in between your legs, pecking you on the lips. “you were so good, can you give me one more?” he asked you. you nodded, wanting all that you could get of bill denbrough. your hands came to help his own with the belt on his jeans, pushing them down his hips and off of his legs for good. bill moved away from you and off the bed, going to grab a package and standing at the edge of the bed. you watched as he dexterously opened the package with his teeth and slipped the condom on him, getting back on top of you and positioning himself in your hips.

when you looked down, you tried to keep yourself from your eyes widening at the sight of him. he looked like he could split you in half. you must’ve hadn’t done a good job at concealing your surprise because you heard a chuckle come from him. “I'll be gentle, don’t worry,” he said to you, trying to calm your nerves.

you looked into his eyes and pulled him by his shoulders so he was fully on top of you. his tip teased your entrance, coming to rub against your slit. “what if I don’t want you to be gentle?” you asked him, a smirk coming to your face. bill laughed, pushing into you and watching your smirk leave your face and pleasure take over. “we’ll see about that princess,” he said.

he wasn’t even fully in yet and you felt your walls want to clench around him, but you breathed in and out and concentrated on that once he was all the way in. you grabbed him by the back of the neck as he stalled in you and kissed him. “I can handle it, bill,” you muttered into his mouth, your hips rolling against his.

bill didn’t respond, deciding to give you what you wanted. he pulled all the way out of you and pushed back in, feeling you around him made bill groan. you were so tight and wet and he was in heaven. he was filling you up in a way you never have felt before and you couldn't get enough of him, you couldn’t get enough of the feeling.

his thrusts were slow and sensual at first, but when he felt your hips moving against his, he knew that you wanted more. bill then upped the pace, grabbing one of your legs and pushing it up to get a better angle. that made you basically putty in his hands. your hands were clenched onto his back and knew that you were making marks that would stay there for days to come.

the base of his cock pressed against your already sensitive clit and you breathed out, arching your back to try and make him go even deeper than he already was. bill thrusted in with such a force that he hit that one spot in you that had you a moaning mess, hitting it repeatedly and holding your leg up higher.

“you feel so good,” he muttered out, hand coming to grip your breast and pinch your nipple lightly.

“bill,” you moaned out, holding him as close as you could.

his name sounded so pornographic coming from you that he tried his best to remember how it sounded. it was unlike anything he had ever felt in his life. you looked so fucking good taking him like this. he felt as if he had everything he ever wanted in the palm of his hands. and he was making you feel good, better than anyone ever had before.

this drove his pride, thrusting animal like into you to take you to that peak again. he wanted to make you cum again. and you did, after about three thrusts from him, each one pulling out all the way and pushing in with force. his hand slipped down to rub your clit in figure eights and you came with a yell of his name.

not even two thrusts after he was cumming, a low groan eliciting from his lips while his body stalled on top of you. each of your skins were drenched with sweat that you two almost stuck to each other. he pulled your face to meet his own and gave you a quick peck, and continued this all the way down your neck then stopping to bury his face into the crook of your neck.

minutes later bill pulled out of you, helping you into your clothes again and throwing the condom away in the trash in the bathroom connected to his room.

what does this mean?

suddenly you realized what you had done, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

“what does this mean, bill?” you asked him, sitting at the edge of the bed.

bill pulled his sweater back over his body and shrugged his shoulders. to be honest, he didn’t really know. he knew that he liked you, you weren’t just some kind of conquest. at the same time he thought about audra, and how there was no way he could go back to her now. not after he had confessed that he had feelings for you. bill walked over to you and pulled you up, wrapping his big arms around you.

you reciprocated, enjoying the smell of him as it enveloped you. bill didn’t even say words, and yet you felt comforted. “I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered, pulling away so you were looking at his face. “but I don’t want to just be the other woman.”

“you’re not, y/n. we’ll figure it out. I promise we will.”

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough imagine #bill denbrough smut #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stanley uris #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #it #IT movie #it movie imagine #it movie 2017 #it movie x reader #it movie 2019

238 notes · View notes

franeridart · 4 years

Text

Anon said: How are you just like "Oh these are just some warm up sketches" and post a full finished piece, while I'm over here sketching a triangle person and calling it a finished piece.

I dunno if this was a legit question asking for a legit answer, but I do happen to have a legit answer so I might as well give it! If I wanted to go into detals with it it’d take me forever though, so allow me to separate it into two points to make it easier

I learnt how to be very fast in putting down my lines and trained myself into not overthinking every single dot I put down. This took about five or six years of drawing daily and a whole life of drawing occasionally before then, because to do so you need to reach a point where you’re drawing something you’ve drawn so many times that by now your hand sort of goes without you needing to think about it much, so it’s not a fast process, but boy is it worth it. Mostly learning how to not overthink it, overthinking it used to be 90% of my time spent on a drawing and dear god did it suck the joy out of everything I drew

I have two very distinctive ways of approaching a drawing, one where I actually put effort in it and the other where I just want to let the squiggles out of my pen, and warm ups are the second one - the lack of effort I’m putting in can have different forms and show in different ways, so a warm up could be a fully colored piece as it could be just a pencil doodle, depending on where and on what exactly I’m being lazy: it could be the type of tool I’m using that allows me to draw without having to line, it could be a very tiny canvas that lets me avoid a ton of details a big canvas would demand. I might be cutting the time I usually put in making sure my anatomy is correct, I might be using a shading technique that takes a tenth of the time my usual one would, I might be using a style that’s just easier and faster to draw, or drawing characters I’ve drawn a trillion times in extremely generic poses and clothes. There’s a lot of things that I can do to make things faster for me! It’s skills you gain as you draw a lot - you learn how to draw things the hard way, and then you realize that along the way you learnt how to do them the easy way too

hope this actually answers your question! If it was a question at all lol if it wasn’t then sorry for rambling, please pretend I didn’t say anything hahaha

Anon said: I love your newest comic!!! So adorable!! I noticed Bakugou's mom does the affectionate hair rustle thing to him in the manga/anime, do you think Bakugou subconsciously does the same to show affection cause of it? I love the way you draw faces and poses, it's so expressive!!

Ahhhhh thank you so much!!! And yeah, it might be! After all we do take a lot from the people we live with even without realizing, and he’s already so similar to his mom!

Anon said: I saw your bakushima comic from October 9th (2019) where Bakugo falls asleep studying and Kirishima sets him down on the table properly and it was so soft my heart is crying

;;;;; !!!!!!!! I’m glad you liked it!! <3<3

Anon said: If it not to much, could I possibly get a Ochamina doodle pls? I just love some sweet lesbeans 👉👈

Awww I’m not taking requests right now, but I’ll keep it in mind for next time I want to doodle and don’t know what!

Anon said: I love your art! I envy you.

Please don’t! There’s a lot of reasons why being me isn’t a lot of fun - if it’s just my skill you envy, then all you gotta do is draw a lot!

Anon said: i just went through your entire kiribaku tag and omg it was beautiful seeing the progression in your art skills but still keeping the same funny/cute/heartwarming/etc traits you thought up for their dynamic!! i hope that makes sense haha !! love your art keep it up

It does make sense!!! Thank you so much both for looking through the whole tag and for thinking so, it means a lot to me!! ;;; <3<3

Anon said: Hey fran! I hope you're doing well(especially with quarantine and all)!! I really love your anatomy and how fluid and stylistic it can be! It's super fun to look at! I wanted to ask you if you ever did any in depth studies on anatomy? Like muscles and bones. I've heard a lot of artists mention the necessity of studying bones/muscles, i'd really like to know your opinion on the subject

Ahhh god thank you so much!! And... hmm let’s see if I can word this properly and have it make sense - always keeping in mind that this is just my opinion, of course!

If all you want to do is to draw, then all you need to do is to pick up your pencil and draw - it’s really that easy as far as I’m concerned. You don’t need to know anatomy in depth to just draw, everyone has seen a person, everyone knows how a person looks. That is, if all you want to do is to draw for the sake of drawing. If you want to draw an anatomically correct looking human being, though, you do need to know how anatomy works - and the deeper you’ll go into studying it the more correct your people will look. It’s kind how everyone can draw a bicycle, but if you want to draw a realistic bicycle you’re gonna need to look up references for it, you know? It’s all on the level at which you’re interested in drawing, the more technically skilled you want to be the more you’ll have to study

As for my personal experience with this, I hate studying with a passion. Studying puts a damper on my enjoyement of everything, and drawing isn’t excluded from this - you put a book in front of me expecting me to study it and suddenly I never want to pick up a pencil again. This means that I never sat down and studied anatomy in depth and all in one go just to learn how to draw a human being, but it doesn’t mean that I didn’t, slowly and now and again and in bits and pieces, study parts of the body to get a better understanding of it. I know better about the skeleton than I do about muscles, and I still have enough to learn about everything that anyone who’s studied anatomy properly would find a trillion mistakes in everything I draw, but my way of going about drawing has always been and always will be putting my enjoyement of it first and foremost, so I’m not interested in putting myself through a tour-de-force to learn everything there is to know about anatomy just to make my doodles look appealing to someone with a medical degree haha I’m just doing me, and when the mood is right I look up how to properly draw something, but until then I just do it as best as I can with my limited knowledge, being fully aware that what I’m producing is far from accurate but being willing to make that compromise for my own comfort

So that’s my opinion on it lol it all boils down to how important it is for you to know how to properly draw the human body - of course it’s gonna look more professional and better if you’ve studied it, but everyone has their own priorities, you know?

Anon said: Thank you for your hard work, seeing an upload from you is so nice, and the colors are so pretty

Thank you so muuuuccchhhhh!!!! TTATT <3<3<3

Anon said: Opinions on Tokoyami Fumikage 💕

One of my top faves in the whole manga, actually! I have a drawing in the making of him, I should get back to it..........

Anon said: HOLY SHIT FRAN THE TOES HOW YOU DRAW THE TOES SO WELL FEET ARE THE DEATH OF ME AND YOU’RE OVER HERE DRAWING TOES THEY’RE SO GOOD PLEASE TEACH ME YOUR WAYS!!! -❤️

Thank you!!!!!!!! So pretty much my way of learning this specific skill was being obsessed with elves when I was fifteen and wanting to draw them all the time and also for whatever reason being convinced that they were not supposed to wear shoes so I just drew a lot of feet with references and tutorials and stuff till I could draw my elves properly. Which isn’t necessarily what you need to do to learn how to draw feet, but, I mean, it worked for me lol

Anon said: I love ur Bnha ships and all but what would u do if some of them didn’t become canon??

Oh, I actually don’t care about that at all? I don’t expect most of them to become canon anyway - like, ochadeku sounds reasonable and kamijirou seems to be getting there, but everything else I never even considered it as an actual possibilily. I don’t really ship because I want to see my ships become canon, I just like the potential in what I can make with them? If that makes sense? They’re just fun to think about and I like making fancontent, that’s all there is to it really haha honestly if I had my way no ship would ever be canon ever ha ha ha

Anon said: Slep is for the wek

No actually sleep is for Frans who want a chance at getting up tomorrow morning without an headache for once, so I should do that and go to sleep already lmao

#fran answers #a couple of long ones in this one !!!!!#feeling blabbery tonight

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worldwidemochiguy · 5 years

Text

made for each other (soft! yandere taehyung)

Summary: After Taehyung kidnapped you, you promised yourself would never allow yourself to fall in love with him. It seems Taehyung is determined to make you break that promise.

Word Count: 3.5K

Authors note: this was inspired by a prompt from @kpopgirlbtssvt to another writer which was about the reader coming to taehyung for cuddles after being unable to sleep bc she’s sick. I just thought it was such a cute prompt so I decided to write something for it as well <3

You can’t sleep. Five months ago, that wouldn’t have surprised you. After all, having been kidnapped and held hostage by a stranger who said he was in love with you, it would have been more odd if you could sleep easily. But now, coming up to six months in Taehyung’s care, though you had stopped counting after the fourth, you usually find it easy to sink into sleep. The bed Taehyung has given you was much nicer than your old one, the mattress doesn’t have springs that dig into your back and the duvet actually keeps you warm at night. In all honesty, that wasn’t the only thing that improved when Taehyung stole you away.

He took you from your one-bedroom apartment, shitty and way too overpriced for a barely-graduated collage student, even if you were working four separate jobs at the time to make ends meet. Taehyung’s luxury apartment was certainly a lot nicer, and it is less stressful, not having to worry about money or other people, of course, you haven’t seen any other people since Taehyung took you.

It had taken you a long time to gain this relaxed view of your kidnapping. Honestly, you’re incredulous yourself, but you have come to terms with the fact that you’re never going to escape. It isn’t that bad, living with Taehyung. He always makes sure you’re comfortable and cared for. You have everything your heart desires, except a connection to the outside world. Despite his almost daily declarations of love and desire for you, he had vowed not to touch you. The very night he took you, he promised he would only kiss you once you explicitly asked for it.

You made a vow too, that night. You promised yourself you would never allow yourself to fall in love with Kim Taehyung. And you were beginning to fear you would have to break your promise.

It’s just because I’m sick, you reason to yourself, I’m not thinking straight, so of course this won’t matter. You wilfully ignore the fact that, despite the fever raging through your body, you’re still mostly coherent. Probably could be completely coherent, if you weren’t so tired. But so far you have been finding it exceedingly difficult to sleep. When you were a young child, your mother would always hold you through the night when you were sick, stroking your hair and singing a soft lullaby to help you drift off. Obviously, going to your mother is out of the question, but the desperation for human contact is a growing urge poisoning your mind.

That same desperation leads your footsteps down the hall at half three in the morning to wait outside Taehyung’s bedroom door. You raise your fist to knock, but hesitate. Are you really going to ask your kidnapper to comfort you? To cuddle you in his bed? It doesn’t matter that he’s attractive, which he is, very attractive, possibly the most beautiful man in the world-

The door swings open, the shock causing you to overbalance and tip directly into the naked chest of whom you had been previously calling the most beautiful man in the world. Taehyung holds you against him for a brief moment, before gently setting you back on your feet with a soft chuckle.

“I could hear you padding up the hall.” He explains, cooing slightly at the sight of your flushed cheeks, glowing in the darkness. “What do you need, baby?”

“You.” The word slips out before you can stop it, and Taehyung’s brows rise so high they disappear into his hairline. He has the most delighted expression on his face that you have ever seen.

“Well, what do you need me for, baby?” His deep purring voice makes you shiver slightly, which triggers another shiver, due to your illness. Taehyung’s brows shoot down again and furrow, as he shoos you into his room, grabbing a blanket off the bed to wrap around you.

“You’re sick.” The blanket smells like him, and it distracts you as he flutters around you, checking your temperature with his hand and trying to see if you’d lost weight — you’ve only been sick a day, but Taehyung worries about anything that happens to the most important thing in his life.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He demands, and you instantly feel bad.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“But now you’re outside my door.”

“Well, actually, I’m inside your room, now.” You quip and he huffs impatiently, even as a slight smile tugs on his lips.

“What changed your mind?” Here, you become more bashful, trying to avoid his gaze by looking downwards but he tilts your head up with a gentle yet firm grip on your chin. “I need an answer, baby.”

“Well…I…” He hums impatiently, “I couldn’t sleep. My mother would always cuddle me when I was sick, but now I don’t have anyone.”

“You have me.” Taehyung responds immediately.

“…I know. That’s- that’s why I’m here.” Your confidence falters a few times, but you manage to finish your statement. For a second, Taehyung looks confused, but then the widest grin lights up his face — not that you find it endearing or adorable or lovable or whatever — and he holds the corners of his blanket wrapped around you and tugs you closer to him.

“You came here… in the middle of the night… to cuddle with me?” Taehyung sounds like he can barely believe it, and you groan in embarrassment, burying your flaming cheeks in his chest.

“Yes. Now, please, just do it without being too smug.”

“What would I have to be smug about, my love?” He asks, smugly.

“Taaeeeee,” you whine, knowing that any term of endearment was his weak spot, “I don’t feel well. Please don’t tease me.” You pout cutely and he coos at you, gathering you up and sweeping you onto the bed where you immediately make yourself comfortable, his scent surrounding you, making you feel better already.

He pauses for a second at the foot of the bed, watching you burrow into his sheets with dark eyes. He then gets into the bed beside you — still shirtless, you note with equal parts excitement and horror — and settles on his back. Before you can even move, he has tugged you onto his chest, with your head against his heartbeat, and his strong arms encircling your waist. Your legs tangle together as you tilt up your head to look at him. He is gazing at you with the most love-filled, adoring expression you had ever seen.

You lay your head back on his chest, vision beginning to swim as your sleepiness overtakes you, and you wonder idly, how bad could it be to let yourself fall in love?

——-——–——————–——————

You wake up surrounded by warmth and comfort, held protectively in a pair of arms which you never want to leave. In your sleepy state, your subconscious recognises your love for Taehyung and you start burrowing further into his hold, placing lazy kisses wherever you can reach with your eyes still closed.

Taehyung releases a low-pitched growl, the vibration finally waking you up. It takes you a second to realise what you are doing and you sit up hurriedly, cheeks painted a bright red. You then realise that you are effectively straddling Taehyung’s lap, which explains the smug expression on his face, and you try to move off him. He quickly sits up as well, drawing his knees up and pinning you between his legs and his torso. Your hands, lying ineffectually on the rumpled sheets, come up to rest on his shoulders.

You give a pathetic attempt at pushing him away — clearly you don’t actually want him to go — and he laughs, only drawing you closer to him in retaliation until your noses bump.

“Good morning baby, or, should I say, good afternoon?” Your eyes flick to the clock on the bedside table and you gasp. It was half past noon! You, again, attempt to scramble off his lap, but he stills your squirming by brushing his nose up the side of your neck.

“Don’t worry baby, you needed your sleep. I would gladly stay in bed the whole day with you, if I didn’t have to feed and take care of you.” With that, he gently shifts you onto the bed and stands up, already heading for the door. You frown, and get up to follow him.

“You don’t need to take care of me.”

“Of course I do. I always take care of my possessions, and you, my love, are the most important. Just go back to sleep, I’ll bring you lunch in bed.” Ignoring how the casual possessiveness makes your lower stomach clench pleasantly, you pout, though he can’t see it as he is turned away from you, heading to the kitchen.

“I don’t want to stay in bed. I’d miss you.” The words slip out before you had a chance to go over them in your head and Taehyung immediately turns around, an adoring expression taking over his face again.

“You are being a very good girl.” He purrs, looping his arms around your lower back and tugging you into him. Since you’re unwell, you allow yourself the indulgence, and raise yourself on your tiptoes to tuck your face into the crook of his neck. He walks both of you back slowly and then, without warning, spins you around and lifts you up, placing you on the counter with ease. He laughs when you yelp in shock, both at the sudden movement and the coolness of the counter, though it does help soothe your heated skin.

“What do you want for lunch, baby?” You shake your head,

“I don’t feel well enough to have lunch.”

“Baby, you have to eat something.” Taehyung sighs, and you give him your best puppy-dog eyes, “What about just rice? It won’t make you too nauseous, but it’ll stop you from feeling hungry.” You think about it for a second before nodding. He rewards your obedience with a sunny smile and you try to ignore how it makes your heart flutter almost painfully.

Taehyung warns you several times to be careful as he starts boiling the water and preparing the rice. He even warns you about avoiding the cooking knives on the other counter because ‘those things are sharp, baby, I can’t let you get hurt.’ Try as you might, you can’t make yourself view him as overprotective and controlling, knowing now that he only wants to keep you safe because he cares so much about you.

While you wait for the rice to steam, he quizzes you relentlessly about your symptoms.

“Do you have a headache?”

“Not really.”

“Do your joints ache?”

“Do my joints ache?” You ask incredulously, “Did you become a doctor or something?” He shoots you an unamused look.

“Answer the question, baby.”

“Yes, my joints ache.”

“Have you been having hot flushes?” As he quizzes you, your eyes drifted down to his still-bare torso, all the way down to the defined V that led into the waistband of his sweatpants.

“A little.”

“Is your throat sore?”

“Not really.”

“Not really? This is a yes or no question and if you can’t say no, that means yes.”

“I mean, it hurt yesterday, but not today.”

“Your throat hurt yesterday and you didn’t tell me?!”

“I didn’t think you would care.” Taehyung mutters what sounds like a prayer for patience and then tugs you forwards so you perch on the edge of the counter. Even sitting higher up, he is still taller than you as he crushes you into his chest.

He holds you for what feels like forever, and when he pulls back it is only to press his forehead against yours. His breath fans over your cheeks as his eyes gaze into yours.

“Of course I care, baby. I care about everything you do, or have done, or ever will do. If you sneeze, I want to know. If you think you hurt your ankle, I want to know. If you saw a fucking cloud out the window that you thought looked like a dog, I want to know. Because I love you. I love you and I will keep telling you that until you understand it because, to me, loving someone means they are the most important thing in your life, do you understand? You are the most important thing in my life, and I want to know everything there is to know about you. I know you aren’t used to affection, but you’ll have to get used to it because I’m not going anywhere and-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. He stands still, frozen for a second, but when you whimper softly against his lips, he takes control of the kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth and you melt. His lips slant against yours perfectly and you can feel his hands slowly travelling down to cup your ass. Your own fingers tangle in his hair and start tugging it when he breaks away, giving you space to breathe while he marks your throat.

“Mmh, get back here.” You whine, and he chuckles against your neck.

“Have to mark you up, baby. Have to let everyone know you’re mine.”

“No one else is going to see me, anyway.” You protest, trying to drag him back up to your mouth. The feeling of him marking you was certainly amazing, but you have been waiting half a year to kiss Kim Taehyung and you aren’t about to stop anytime soon.

“You’re so desperate for my kiss, aren’t you?” His ego is swelling dangerously, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Yes, I am. Please kiss me, I’ve been holding myself back for so long, I’m desperate.” You beg shamelessly, and he growls against your throat before rearing up to claim your mouth again, wrapping your legs around his waist to lift you off the counter and pin you against the wall in one seamless movement.

It is that moment the rice cooker chooses to go off, signalling the rice has finished steaming. Taehyung pulls away slightly, and then smirks when you chase after his lips. He allows you to steal a precious few more kisses before he sets you down on the floor, arms coming up to your waist automatically to steady you when you stumble slightly.

“Baby can’t even stand up without me, huh?” You can’t even deny his smug remark, instead choosing to hang onto his shoulder as he tries to go and check on the rice. “Baby, I have to go and check on the rice. You must be hungry.”

“Rice isn’t what I’m hungry for.” You muttered, and Taehyung’s short intake of breath was the only warning you got before you were pinned against the wall again.

“Naughty girl,” Taehyung purrs, his hand wrapped around your throat, tight enough to keep you still and submissive, but not completely cutting off your air supply. “Bad baby, saying all these naughty things when daddy is trying to be sweet to her.” You whimper, his muscular thigh is right in between your legs but when you try to grind yourself against him for some relief, he tightens his hold on your neck.

“I think my baby needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Yes, please- teach me, I need-”

“Please, what, my love?” You try to swallow but it’s difficult with his hand tightening on your throat, your vision begins to darken.

“Baby, I’m still waiting on an answer here.” Taehyung prompts you.

“I’m sorry… please- please teach me a lesson, daddy.” His gaze darkens, and you think he’s going to kiss you, you want him to kiss you, but he pulls away. His hand falls away from your throat and he returns to the rice cooker. You stay resting against the wall, trying to even your breathing, and Taehyung puts the rice into a bowl and gets chopsticks for you.

He moves towards the seating area and you follow him, slightly confused. Your confusion deepens as he sits down on the armchair, rather than a loveseat. Maybe he wants you to sit on his lap? Thankfully, he doesn’t leave you confused for too long.

“Kneel.” He smiles slightly at the sight of your wide eyes, and attempts to make himself clear. “Kneel by my feet, like the good little pet you are. I’ll feed you, baby, don’t worry.” You felt your knees bending and hitting the floor even before you fully registered his command. Taehyung felt a sense of victorious pride swelling within him as he watched you kneel for him obediently, your pretty lips open and waiting for him to feed you. To be honest, the sight of you on your knees for him made more than just his pride swell. He had been so patient for so long and it had all been worth it to have you as you are now, perfect and perfectly submissive.

He feeds you the rice slowly, taking care not to give you too much at one time to avoid triggering a stomach ache. Even as your cheeks burn at the humiliation of kneeling at his feet like a dog, you felt a certain amount of comfort at the fact that he cares so much about you that he wants to look after you like this. Once the rice is finished, you yawn and lean against Taehyung’s leg, closing your eyes. You feel his hand start to card through your hair and you know that, if you were a cat, you’d definitely be purring right now.

“Is my baby tired?” Taehyung questions softly and you nod, jostling his leg slightly.

“Can I take a nap?”

“Of course you can, my love. You have been so good today. My perfect girl.” He praises you as he helps you to your feet. You look up at him, and the breath you have just been taking in abandons you suddenly.

He is so beautiful. He’s looking at you with such a tender, loving expression and you know in your heart, you have broken your promise to yourself.

You are in love with Kim Taehyung.

You mask this self-revelation with a soft smile, untangling yourself from his arms and walking towards the hallway. You hear Taehyung following behind you, but choose not to acknowledge it.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You pause, turning around to glance back at him.

“My bedroom. You said I could take a nap.” You pout, and Taehyung smirks,

“What makes you think I’m letting you go back there now that you’ve slept in my bed? Well- our bed.” He doesn’t give you a chance to answer the question before he sweeps you into his arms in bridal style, striding back to his room and depositing you on his bed. He sighs contentedly, watching you acquiesce and make yourself comfortable on the bed.

“You look so beautiful in my bed, my love. You will always sleep here from now on.” You nod sleepily, uncaring of his possessive tone, and make grabby hands at him, wanting him to join you and snuggle in bed. You hear a quiet chuckle before the mattress dips and you are gathered into his arms again. You have never felt so untroubled in all your life.

He arranges you so that your head is resting on his chest, with your leg thrown over his hip, completely intertwined together, just the way he loves it, and how you are beginning to love too. You raise your head to look at him, finding his dark eyes already watching you affectionately.

“Taehyung?” Your fever is making you woozy, along with the sleeping pills Taehyung had crushed into the rice. He didn’t want you to have trouble sleeping, and he knows what’s best for his little girl.

“Yes, baby?” He replies and you smile. You can barely see straight but you know you have to tell him something, something important.

“I love you.” His eyes crinkle as he gives you a wide, boxy smile. It’s the last thing you see before you succumb to exhaustion, your smile still fixed on your lips as your eyes shut. Taehyung takes a second to admire your beauty, before leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you too, baby. Every day I’m so thankful that I was made for you, and you for me.”

#Yandere bts #Yandere bangtan #yandere taehyung #yandere taehyung x reader #yandere bts x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts v #bts taehyung #bts tae tae #bts tae x reader

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bave-de-crapaud · 4 years

Text

The Darkness Within...

CHAPTER FIVE

(Yearning by crescentcreations.storenvy.com)

Request by: the babe @belladonnarey

A/N: hmmm this one took a while BUT it (hopefully) is the smut you have been waiting for. Let me know what you like about it, what you don’t, what you think will happen. Enjoy and stay safe. Sirius x Reader Older Sirius Sirius Lives/Post Azkaban Smutty McSmut Word count: 5500+ Disclaimer: All characters are assumed 18+ Warnings: Smut!

—-

Finding yourself at Number 12 Grimmauld Place became a regular if normal occurrence over the next few weeks. In your spare time you sat on the floor in Sirius’ library, pouring over dusty volumes containing everything and anything related to wizards and witches with ‘eccentric abilities’ - the technical term to what you had, apparently.

The good thing about this was you weren’t the only one who had surfaced over the years with strange skills, there were wizards who could command water without a wand, witches who with one touch could drain a person of their fears, individuals who could fly sans apparatus and countless others who had fascinating and outrageous traits. The bad thing was none of these wizards were alive today to speak with, the last person with documented abilities had died over 100 years ago. Yet again you felt like you were on this journey on your own.

Sirius and Remus were constantly in and out of the house completing various missions and tasks for the order. Sirius checked on you often, bringing you tea or something to eat but kept himself scarce to let you figure out your mysteries alone. He seemed to understand that this was a private affair for you and you were grateful for the time. However each night around 8pm he would come into the Library, sit on one of the old leather couches and ask you about your day.

You caught snippets of what he and Remus had been up to and learned that one of the missions ended in a grizzly discovery of Macnair’s body - found dead in his home - magic obviously the cause of torture and death.

Voldemort had become less of a focus in your mind and each time you were called to his presence you found it easy to resist his psychological torment. The disgust on your face was not evident when fellow Death Eaters talked about their foul crimes. Being around Sirius was giving you a strength you never knew you had. The way he threw himself into fighting for equality and the right to live no matter what situation or who he had to work with, both humbled and amazed you. If he can put up with more than 12 years of the world thinking he was a betrayer and cold-blooded killer who was associated with Death Eaters and Voldemort, then you could put up with sporadically rubbing shoulders with Malfoy, Lestrange, and their cronies.

Your new attitude didn’t go unnoticed, it was put down to you growing a stronger stomach for violence and generally taken positively amongst the Death Eater ranks. However, Voldemort, though he outwardly showed no signs of displeasure, watched you more and decided to hold whatever he wanted Macnair to deliver to you for later. Like any nefarious leader, he was constantly on the lookout for a rat in his ranks and you were not exempt from this scrutiny.

After every Death Eater meeting, you would return home before heading over to Grimmauld Place, a new sanctuary, to pour over more books and hopefully absorb the good vibes from its admirable inhabitants. This made being with Death Eaters bearable. On the nights of Order meetings, however, you stayed away. Those evenings were becoming Sirius’ least favourite. It made sense to shield you from them for your own and others’ safety. However, that didn’t stop him feeling concerned for you. Reckless and impulsive, he may be, he was also a very intuitive and perceptive man. He hadn’t failed to notice how much you seem to relax in his library. He wanted that for you, relating to that feeling of relief as almost an addictive substance, he knew you needed and craved it and he wanted to give it to you. Badly.

He felt protective and territorial of you. If he really wanted to analyse his feelings he would have noticed that your safety, though paramount, was not the only reason he wanted you to come to his house: the lingering looks as he gave you yet another cup of tea, finding a way to bring you into conversation with Remus, seemingly innocently, was a dead giveaway of deeper feelings. Remus said nothing, prefering to feign ignorance, yet the annoyingly knowing looks he gave Sirius hinted otherwise.

“Just ask her, Padfoot.” Remus sighed exasperatedly, shuffling his paper one day as Sirius kept looking towards the door of his library, knowing you were inside.

“Ask her what?” Sirius tried and failed to nonchalantly reply.

“Out, mate!”

Sirius frowned, placing both hands on the kitchen table as though readying his defense. “For one: what makes you think I want to ask her out? And two: I couldn’t anyway - we are supposed to be on opposing sides remember?”

Remus stared at his friend, conceding defeat but not enough to hold in his last words before disappearing behind the Daily Prophet; “True but if it can be concealed from the Death Eaters that she is at your house every day, then asking her to have dinner with you is not a huge step up I would think.”

There was another reason, Sirius hadn’t tried to gauge your feelings: He didn’t want you to think he was just trying to get a leg over. Your outright statement about his intentions after he first visited your house, had stuck with him. He concluded that you didn’t want him and pursuing you would only harden your view towards him further. So he played it safe, frustrating himself and unknowingly frustrating you in the process.

—

Sirius’ library was vast and carried more volumes on runes than all the franchises of Flourish and Blotts combined. What was interesting was that the interpretation of runes and ancient markings was just as vast and also open into a plethora of interpretation. You had discovered that the rune on your chest - the mirror image of one of Sirius’ tattoos - did indeed mean ‘destruction’ but in a form of new growth. Much like a farmer sowing soil, ridding the earth of old, dead, and rotting plants preparing it for new seeds.

Two runes on your left arm meant ‘Harm To My Enemies’ and another on your thigh could be interpreted as ‘The East Wind’. Other forms of your abilities were harder to quantify as there was no record of someone with all the same traits as you, however, those who had shown up throughout history with varying sources of atypical power were more often than not tyrants and individuals who used their abilities for evil. Stories of wizards who did not feel cold, commanding animals, and manipulating the elements such as fire were largely negative however speckled throughout the research were wizards who were great warriors, shepherds of the people, and in some cases just normal citizens living their lives like everyone else

Though you were slowly and steadily finding out more information about your powers and relished the time you were so easily given you couldn’t help but wish for Sirius’ company more often than an hour or two at night. Luckily for you, that was about to change.

—

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” You were sat on the floor in front of the fireplace staring gloomily at your fifth cup of tea.

You smiled “Sirius I’m so grateful for you letting me stay but I was wondering - do you have anything other than tea?”

He smirked and left the room returning seconds later with a bottle of fire whiskey.

Handing you a large glass he clinked it with his and took his place back on the couch asking you again how was your day. Each night Sirius had helped you with your findings, giving his opinion or helping you to digest what you had read. He was adamant that your powers weren’t evil and that you needed to be confident in your choice to do what was right. He had served to make you feel good about yourself a lot but you wondered if he had the same support from his pairs. Tonight you put aside your research and decided to question him about his life. You had gleaned a bit about him over the last month but he was infinitely fascinating to you and seemed like a well of untapped ideas and beliefs.

He talked about his family, his friends, and the Order. He told you light hearted tales about his Hogwarts days and he talked at length about Harry and how sometimes he was nervous about his parenting role considering Walburga and Orion were such poor examples to go off.

“You know, you are not what I thought.” You said boldly after a moment of silence.

Sirius sat up straighter on the couch and cocked his eyebrow at you. A side smile not quite covering a flicker of worry in his eyes.

“Oh?” Was all he said. “Yeah.” You walked forwards from your current position in front of the mantle place and took a seat beside him.

“You care more about what people think than you let on.”

“Is that so?” He subconsciously moved his body so it was angled towards you.

“Yeah, and you are not as much of a dog around the ladies as I thought you’d be.” Sirius barked out a laugh at this. “Why thank you Y/N, but to be fair you have never seen me around ‘the ladies.’”

“I’ve seen you around me.” You answered bluntly. “You aren’t all over me with cheap pick up lines and cocky bravado.”

Sirius turned his head away and tried to hold in a laugh. Where was this coming from? He wondered.

“Is that how you think I would woo a woman? I’m slightly offended, Y/N.” He didn’t look it. He looked amused and a little interested.

He wasn’t able to tell if you were joking and as you glimmered at him, taking another sip of your drink.

“I don’t sleep around you know. I haven’t done that since I was 20, but unfortunately, that reputation has always preceded me.”

“You probably deserved it!”

He scoffed, turning back to stare at the fire; “Probably, and don’t get me wrong I still like meeting new people but I have long since learned sex is far better with someone you have a connection with.”

“Ok then.” You said brightly, gaining his attention again. “What would you do?”

“What would I do, when?” Sirius narrowed his eyebrows slightly, confused.

“When you want to “woo” a woman.” You signalled quotation marks in the air as you said the word ‘woo’ earning another quick chuckle from him.

Sirius paused, looking at you intently, cogs working fast in his brain. She wants you to woo her? No, she wants you to show her what you would do to woo her. Does that mean she wants me?

As Sirius battled these rapid thoughts, your own inner monologue was pipping up as well: This is a dangerous game, Y/N. You are leading him on and you know it. It’s too dangerous, you can’t do anything with him. Don’t confuse the poor guy…unless you want to be leading him on. Do you?

Shaking your head and forcing yourself to believe this would just be a fun game you crossed your legs leaning closer to Sirius.

He noticed glancing at your legs, smooth skin exposed up to past mid-thigh where your skirt took over covering the rest from there.

He looked back into your eyes and noticed a difference. Your pupils were bigger and there was a faint purple hue in your irises.

Right now, the sexual tension in the room could be cut with a knife. It had been building over the past few weeks. An accidental touch here and there, a smile, or a look that meant everything and nothing at the same time from him would floor you. When he looked over your shoulder to consider whatever book you were showing him, little puffs of his breath in your ear flooded your body with heat making it impossible to concentrate. All these reactions confused you and created a chronic longing feeling in your chest you had not experienced before. It made you feel warm, content, and giddy.

Never having fallen for anyone before, you didn’t recognise the signs, the changes in your body and the effect he had on you mentally and physically. By the time these feelings had reached boiling point he was sitting next to you and your body was doing the thinking for you. God you wanted him to touch you. To an untrained eye Sirius looked so cool and collected, however beneath the surface he was anything but.

Since Remus had confronted him about asking you out, Sirius had thought little else. He was super aware of his body language, how it angled him towards you, begging him to take a step closer even if just to place his hand on your back as he passed. Believing that you didn’t want that from him, he was careful not to brush past you or stand too close and cause you to feel uncomfortable. He constantly watched himself and made sure he didn’t give you the wrong idea. It was hard though. Very hard.

Just yesterday he nearly pinned you against the wall and kissed you. He was walking you out and after a long night of research, you were tired and not watching where you were going. Just as he was saying “watch out for the…” you kicked over that bloody troll leg again. Instead of steading yourself, your first thought was not to wake up Sirius’ Mother’s portrait so you reached back to catch the falling article before its clatter made a sound. Overreaching, you fell backward into something hard and warm: Sirius’ chest. He instantly wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and upright.

“Are you ok?” he whispered in your ear, his puffs of breath once again making your veins tingle.

You swallowed and exited abruptly leaving Sirius cursing himself for what he thought was his incongruous behaviour. As far as you were concerned, it had been anything but and you were unable to stop thinking of him for the rest of the evening, dreaming of those same arms doing other far more inappropriate things making your sleep wrought with pleasurable shivers and fever. Oh God, was he ever going to come closer?

Until this evening he had been the perfect gentleman, respecting your boundaries and staying just out of reach. Apart from the one incident in the hallway, you hadn’t felt his touch, no matter how innocent, since he had carried you up the stairs to bed and that was having an unacceptable effect on you. It made you lean towards him further, lick your lips whenever he was near, and glance at his body when he wasn’t looking in a completely wanton way. He must notice the heat coming from me? You thought. He seemed so relaxed, not at all perturbed by your presence.

How wrong you were. Inside, Sirius was struggling. He was trying to be a gentleman but it was hard, you were making it hard. Do you actually want him? He was ok with just being in your orbit slowly torturing himself at not touching you, content at just being there but this evening, your flirting coupled with the fire whiskey was not helping, in fact, its lubricating effects ware making resisting anything you said that could be slightly construed as even vague interest, very, very difficult.

Sirius cleared his throat. Not taking his eyes off you. “You want me to show you how I ask a woman out?”

“Yes, show me your moves!”

Sirius smiled but his eyes held a serious, almost pained look. Before you could ask him what was wrong he shuffled in his seat.

“Y/N, I don’t have moves I just sort of feel a situation out, see if she likes me and then go from there.”

“Ok well, show me how you do that. Come on.” You egged him as he gave you a look of doubt. “It’ll be fun.”

It’ll be torture. Sirius thought, but you were looking at him with such a blazing warmth in your eyes, he relented and shifted so he was closer to you.

“Well, if I like her I have usually gotten to know her a little bit, watched the way she moves, adjusted my body language to suit whatever she is comfortable with, and look for signs she is interested in me too.”

He stretched so his right arm was running along the back of the couch, behind you, touching your shoulder ever so lightly. You shivered at the contact.

“Then I guess I would let her take the lead.” His voice had lowered and you noticed he had leaned closer to you. You had also noticed that the outside of his right leg was pressed against your crossed calves and as he leaned to you further you got a whiff of his cologne. The musky, manly scent combined with his closeness dilated your pupils further and sent your mind whirling.

Before you could collect yourself Sirius gave you a slow, mischievous smile, took a sip of his drink and said very quietly; “Your turn.”

“My…w-what?” you uttered, stammering slightly.

“Your turn to show me your moves.”

Fuck you wanted him. Could you? No? Slowly, not realising it you inched closer to him.

You were nervous, Sirius could finally see that. Whatever he was doing had an effect on you. Sirius loved the excitement of turning someone else on, this was him in his element. However, unlike most interactions with the opposite sex, this one was equally thrilling and torturing him. Setting his glass down and gathering a sliver of confidence he tentatively he placed his left hand on your thigh. You sucked in a sharp breath which he mistook for fear immediately whipping his hand away and opening his mouth to apologise only to be interrupted by the words: “Don’t stop.”

He looked back at you, having just enough time to register your meaning before you lunged forward, capturing his lips in yours.

There was a seconds pause then Sirius was returning your kiss with fervor. He wrapped his arms around your back clinging to your shirt before lifting you up and onto his lap, legs either side of his, pressing into him exquisitely.

He tasted like fire whiskey and something sweet at the same time.

He moved his hand through your hair holding your head while the other held your lower back pressing you firmly, further into him. Suddenly the hand holding your head was gone and running up your outer thigh, underneath your skirt.

His warm fingers caressed your upper thigh, moving further to touch the tip of your hip and run tantalizing circles across your backside.

His kisses were feverish and sending you reeling. The way he swept his tongue across your lips opening them and deepening the kiss was tantalizing. Clinging to him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair, you ground down into his crotch and he groaned, opening his eyes. They were heavy with desire.

Sirius squeezed your bum picking you up and laying you back down on the couch. He didn’t remove his lips from yours as he wrapped your legs around his waist and lowered his body onto yours.

You arched up into him and he was immediately transported to the first dream he had of you, lying naked on his bed. He let out a shuddered breath; “You are so beautiful, Y/N. I want you.”

Instead of being flattered by this, a voice popped up in the back of your mind; Did he though? Shaken by this sudden thought, then jumping slightly at the bang of the front door signifying the probable return home of Remus served to knock you back into reality. The situation suddenly became very clear to you. You had just thrown yourself at a man who was known for sleeping with multiple women, very easily it seemed if you were to believe what he said before - he didn’t have to do anything and they offered themselves to him.

Of course he wanted you - you had led him on with your ‘game’ basically given yourself up to him on a platter. This wasn’t real, it was convenient and you could seriously hurt him if you let him in further.

Seeing the change in your face, Sirius sat up, “Y/N, are you ok? Was this too fast?.”

“Sirius..I” you were so embarrassed. Sitting up, quickly removing your legs from around him.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have.” He could see the blush rising up around your cheeks and you couldn’t look at him.

“Shouldn’t have? What do you mean - I think this was on both of us. Don’t you?”

“I mean.” You screwed your eyes shut, breathing deeply, “I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea…I… I don’t do one nightstands.”

“One nightstands?” he was frowning at you, confused, his mind racing. Didn’t she hear me before?

Seeing him frown and mistaking it for annoyance rather than confusion you stood up and started to back towards the door. “I should go, I’m so sorry for coming on to you.”

“Y/N! Wait!” But before he could take two steps towards you, you had turned on your heel and raced out the door.

“Y/N!” Sirius was still calling your name as you shot out the front door, turning on the spot to disapparate.

—

“Argh, Y/N how could you be so stupid!” You cursed yourself as you walked around your kitchen.

That had been the hottest, most erotic thing that had happened to you and you choked, freaked out, and left.

You wanted Sirius it was true but you couldn’t quite believe someone like him could want you for anything more than a one time fling. No one else had wanted more so what made him any different?

Plus even if he did there was a real chance you could lose it and hurt him. The feelings he elicited from you were unreal and you had never felt that alive and heated before. It both thrilled and frightened you to your bones.

Though the research you conducted in his library had opened up ideas that you hadn’t had before - you were still afraid. Sirius had quickly and unquestionably become your favourite person and you didn’t think your poor heart could take having him in the most intimate way and then not having him again. So you had done the most adult thing you could think of: insulted his intentions and run away. “Brilliant!” You spat.

Back at Geimmauld Place, Sirius was pacing up and down the hall. “YOU IDIOT!” He yelled at himself waking up his mother. “Oh shut the fuck up you old hag!” Storming out of the house, and out into the night air helped calm him and give him clarity. He disapparated instantly.

Lifting your head from your hands you got up from the kitchen table as you heard a soft knock at your front door.

Sirius stood at your door with a dark, devastating look.

“Sirius I…” you began.

“I want you more than just for tonight.” He blurted out. “I have for a long time”

“What if I hurt you?”

He walked in, eyes dark and grabbed you, “You won’t.”

He let you go and stood before you, waiting. He wanted you to be sure of him and sure of yourself. His broad shoulders quivered under your stare, not with fear but ready to do anything you desired. Sirius was a handsome man, sure, but standing before you laying his cards on the line, his need for you so obvious and open made him the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. He was not afraid of anything. His confidence fanned yours and you ignored the fear building in your stomach and stepped into him.

Attaching himself to your lips once more he didn’t look as he closed the front door and led you towards your staircase.

Laying you down on your bed once again he hovered above you, one muscled arm on either side of your head. This view of you sprawled out underneath him jogged his memory and as he recalled first dream about you again. He closed his eyes and shuddered.

“What’s wrong Sirius?”

Your concern was squashed by a sly smile. He opened his eyes and said with a smirk: “I’ve dreamt about this before”

“Is that so?”

“Yes” he looked at you intently.

“What did dream me do?”

You couldn’t quite hold your smug smile while Sirius bit his lip and told you.

Wrapping your legs around him once more, you pulled him down on top of you. Hands running down his sides as you kissed him, you felt his muscles tense at each spot you touched. Whatever you were doing to him, he enjoyed it.

Taking great effort to wrench his lips from yours Sirius looked at you once more and asked: “Y/N, would you like to go to dinner with me sometime?”

Looking surprised, you nodded. He smiled. “I meant what I said. This isn’t just a once off. Not for me.”

“I know.” You conceded. “I also just didn’t want my first time to be meaningless.” “Your first time?” Sirius looked shocked. “You mean you’ve never…?”

You shook your head, grimacing slightly hoping this didn’t change anything.

“Oh Y/N, are you sure?” Sirius was surprised and, if possible, turned on even more. There was something so special about sharing someone’s first experience. Meaning something so much to them that they wanted to be with you. He felt sexy, powerful, and potent which combined with how long he had lusted over you and the way you moved, made it incredibly hard for him to focus.

“Yes Sirius.” The brazen look in your eyes and the way you ran your hands in sweeping strokes around his body told him that though you may not have had sex you had had other intimate experiences and you knew what you wanted.

He shuddered once more, closing his eyes as you arched up into him again.

“Y/N.” His voice came out in a rasp. “God, you are turning me on… I want you so badly but if this is not right for you please tell me and we’ll stop.”

You surprised him by laughing softly. “You’re sort of killing the mood, Sirius. I want this, I want you - you know you are not the only one who has touched themselves dreaming about us.”

Suddenly, with a twirl of your fingers, soft, malleable ropes appeared at your wrists. Gently lifting your arms up and firmly tying your hands to your bedpost.

Sirius’ jaw dropped and he almost started drooling. The look on his face, one of absolute adoration, spurred you on further. Another flick of your wrist and your clothes slowly started peeling themselves off your body, ripping in parts to remove themselves from you until you were lying naked, stretched underneath him, replicating that particular dream perfectly.

As you looked up at him through relaxed eyelids and purred; “I want you to touch me, Sirius.” He nearly came undone.

Though he was only wearing his jeans and a shirt he couldn’t get naked fast enough.

Sirius laid his body against yours, groaning at the feel of your soft skin. He kissed you deeply, letting one arm hold himself while the other dipped low, wandering further until it came torturously close to your clit before moving passed and circling your inner thigh.

You groaned with frustration and he smiled into your lips as he kissed you, tongue sweeping inside your mouth lighting sparks inside your head.

Each time he neared closer to your core, your breath hitched, waiting, only to be expelled in frustration as he moved passed and to another area.

He explored your mouth, your neck, your collar bone, and your nipples with his mouth, all the while coming close to touching you where you needed but not getting close enough.

Finally, he swept his finger up the line of your folds and flicked your clit. A move that literally took your breath away and his. He could feel how wet you were and it made his cock twitch with excitement. “Oh, Y/N.”

His teasing had become torturous for him as well. If he wasn’t careful, your body was going to turn him on so much that he might come on you rather than inside you like he desperately wanted.

He moved down to flick your nipple with his tongue then continued further south until his head was level with your core. A brush of stubble on your inner thigh had you jolting. He kissed the spot, sparking your lust even more. Not able to take any more teasing, “please Sirius” you begged. The desperate timbre of your voice made him feel incredibly desired.

He gently made taught the skin above your clit tilting it upwards and licking it, so lightly but giving you the feeling of being shocked with the most incredible surge of power. A whimper and a groan encouraged him to carry on and soon he was holding your bucking hips down as he continued to rapidly lick, and flick the sensitive bead. You could feel a sudden blooming inside you, growing outwards, and upwards lighting even your soul on fire. Suddenly afraid your weird powers might cause you to lash out and hurt him you made to move away but he held you down and stopped his tongue briefly enough to growl, “you won’t, just let go.”

He shifted his free hand under your bum and squeezed as he buried his face once more in your core. There it was again, that sweet hot feeling running through your bones. A warm glow washed over you and into him - consuming him filling him with love. You could feel his devotion to you, how turned on he was, how much he longed for you. This had never happened previously and before you could process it the orgasm he gave you lifted you off the bed causing you to cry out his name over and over. He did not relent, it was exquisite ecstasy.

“Oh God, oh God…” you breathed, hyperventilating from how good he had made you feel. Sirius was smiling, he had made his way back up the bed and was lying next to you, stroking your side.

You wrenched your arms out of the ropes and launched at him, taking him off guard and kissing him deeply, pushing yourself on top of him until you were straddling his lap just like you had only moments ago in his library.

Sirius’ cocky smile turned into an ‘oh’ as his mouth opened while you grabbed his erection and placed it at your entrance. Wetting the tip from your already dripping core you slowly began to slide down.

Sirius, groaned, bit his lip and grasped your hips. He was utterly and irrevocably under your spell.

Feeling a stretch, painful at first, you continued to slide down until a snapping feeling followed by a slight relief brought you to the bottom of his shaft.

Taking your breath you slowly started to move up and down his cock, squeezing intermittently and kissing him sporadically.

The frenzy he had whipped you into before had served to lubricate your entrance so though there was some pain at first, it soon gave way to a delightfully filling feeling.

“Ohhh Y/N” Sirius groaned as your inner walls stroked his shaft. You were tight, as he expected but your smooth movements and rocking of your hips blew him away. If this was you at your first time then he was in for a real treat when you had more experience under your belt. Thoughts of you experimenting with others flashed across his mind and he growled. Territorial hormones took him over as he squeezed your hips hard lifting his own up into you, hitting a spot inside you that caused you to moan.

Sirius noticed this and increased the snapping of his hips. Continuous thrusts meeting each other coupled with your already sensitive clit rubbing against the rough hair on his pelvis was causing an orgasm to build again. Surely not? Not at your first instance of sex, you thought?

A delightful wave tickled your walls and you shivered. “Sirius, I’m going to come. Don’t stop.”

He didn’t, reaching down between you he rubbed your clit once more to bring your orgasm about faster. Feeling your walls clamp down around him his thrusts became sloppier and as you came, unraveling on top of him he found his release crying your name and squeezing your hips painfully.

You fell forward on top of him and he instantly wrapped his arms around you rolling you to the side, still inside of you showing no signs he wanted to get up.

Laying there entwined with him, you felt the content warm feeling ripple through you again. You had let go and not lost control! If you could do this then you could do anything. No more holding back. In one act of love Sirius had helped you break the shackles of fear and find relief from a lifetime of pressure and concern. You felt light and confident. Chuckling to yourself he looked at you cocking an eyebrow in question.

“Well Sirius, those were some good moves!”

There was a beat and then you both laughed.

—- Tag list: @sirius-lysad @riddikuluslypotter @emmamass24 @evyiione @mylovelykelsifer @sly-vixen-up2nogood @ashkuuuu @songforhema @wangmangagavroche @borbole-teias @legalyred @qwertyokok

#Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius #sirius black fanfiction #sirius fanfic #sirius black imagine #sirius imagine #HP #Harry Potter #Harry Potter universe #post azkaban #sirius lives #Smut #slow burn #OLDER SIRIUS #imagine #fanfic #writing #request

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the-wlw-cafe · 4 years

Text

Supercorptober - Day 9: Luthor

Read it on ao3 here!

Kara truly didn’t mind the secrecy and sneaking around. She didn’t mind the way Lena would wrench her hand away from hers the second they left the office, she didn’t mind receiving at least one discrete you’re staring text, she didn’t mind not being able to call Lena her girlfriend in public. It was a facet of their relationship they’d discussed before they’d even kissed for the first time, and it was fine. Lena wasn’t out, had no intentions of coming out soon, and so what if they only kissed behind closed doors? Kara was fine.

It meant a lot of candlelit dinners at their respective home, eating pizza with a knife and fork as if they were attending the most expensive upscale restaurant with snooty waiters watching their every move, making comments like “delightfully airy” and “an acquired taste” about the complimentary soft drinks they got for being regulars at their delivery service of choice. They had movie dates and went to galas together as each other’s platonic date, making sure to return to their respective homes separately. And it was fine. Just dandy.

Until it wasn’t.

Because despite all the hoops they had to jump through, she still knew that Lena loved her, cherished her, just and much as Kara did. At least, she had known. She’d been so sure. But there she was, on one knee on the windy balcony, staring up at Lena with mounting anxiety as she just blinked back, silent as a grave.

(“You don’t have to wear the ring or anything. You can just keep it in your pocket, or even at home, and think of me whenever you see it”, she’d said. As if that would change Lena’s mind.)

Lena remained still, unmoved, as agonizing seconds dragged on and on and on and Kara could feel her heart shatter in her chest. Seconds passed and she was frozen to the spot, unwilling to give up just yet, because there had to be an explanation, an explanation other than you love her more than she loves you. But there came none. Lena stumbled backwards, one step, two, and every movement away from her made Kara recoil as if Lena had physically struck her. Then, finally, Lena opened her mouth:

“Kara...you can’t.”

Kara swallowed thickly. “I see. I’m...I’m sorry that I’ve put you on the spot, I’ll just see myself out, then.”

She couldn’t stand to be here one second longer, because she was sure she’d break out into tears if she had to look at her girlfriend (ex-girlfriend?), so she leapt off the balcony and took to the skies, onlookers be damned. The wind was ringing too loudly in her ears for her to hear Lena calling after her.

Some stupid, naive part of her brain kept clinging onto hope. What they had had felt real, it had felt substantial, and far to large to end in a few short moments. It was to banal for a love as big as theirs. As big as hers.

Kara never deluded herself into thinking it would last forever. She was Supergirl, risking her life on a daily basis, and Lena was human, not immune to her family’s assassins nor to age. But she’d always been selfish enough to think that their end would be bombastic, or at least meaningful in some way, a moving final goodbye as they promised they’d see each other again. She never thought they’d split in deafening, choking silence. But then again, Alex always made fun of her for watching too many romance movies.

She’d landed on her sister’s fire escape without knowing that her muscles had taken her there. She saw Alex, mid laugh about something her girlfriend had said (oh yes, it’s date night, she realised with a distant stab of guilt) turned towards the window and the grin dripped off her face like icy water.

“Kara!” she heard her exclaim, the sound somewhat dull through the thick glass, as she crossed her room quickly to let her in.

“Shit, Kara, what happened?” she asked, as she and Kelly moved her to the couch while her whole body shook with the effort to contain her sobs.

“Lena”, she hiccuped weakly, as if that would explain everything. In a way, it did.

“Is she hurt?” Alex asked, her voice steely and business-like, already slipping from Big Sister Alex into Agent Danvers. Kara shook her head choppily, almost in a panicked manner. She didn’t need Agent Danvers to take control of the situation, she needed to be comforted by her sister.

“Did you have a fight?” Kelly asked softly, brushing some of the wind-swept hair from Kara’s face. She hit the nail on the head of course. Kara blinked against the tears that welled up in her eyes, and tried to swallow the lump in her throat down, but she was fighting a losing battle on both fronts. Soon tears were rolling down her cheeks and her breaths were punctuated with deep sobs. At least it seemed to shake Alex out of her agent mode, as she immediately sensed that her little sister wanted nothing but to be held. It almost felt like she was thirteen again, witnessing her first thunderstorm, hands pressed over her ears and sobbing against the fear and the loss and the grief the loud thunderclaps provoked in her, with nothing but her sister to keep her tethered to reality. She burrowed into Alex’s arms as if it was her only hiding place from reality, and cried until she was certain she had no more tears left.

“I think it’s over”, she croaked, and her voice had never sounded as small.

“Oh, sweetheart”, Kelly sighed, laying a comforting hand on her back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“She doesn’t love me anymore”, Kara said, before she added: “Actually, I don’t know if she ever did, at least to the extent I loved her.”

“No, that’s bullshit!” Alex exclaimed, cringing when she noticed how much she’d raised her voice. “That can’t be true, I’ve seen the way she looks at you, the way she always smiles when you enter the room like you light up her whole life…”

“Alex!” Kara interrupted. Once upon a time she’d thought she’d noticed it too. The way Lena tilted her head to the side almost imperceptibly whenever they saw each other, subconsciously getting ready for a kiss on the cheek, had filled Kara with no small amount of pride when she’d first become aware of it. And to think that all this time it had been an elaborate charade, maybe out of a misplaced sense of duty, of owing it to Kara...the thought made her physically sick. Had she done something that had made Lena afraid of breaking up with her?

“I proposed to her”, Kara said, defeated.

“She didn’t say no, did she? She wouldn’t-” Alex began, before Kara interrupted again.

“She said nothing! She just stared at me, shocked!”

“Well”, Kelly began, carefully, as if she wasn’t quite sure how to phrase her next thought.

“Shock isn’t always a bad thing, just as a surprise can be good or bad.”

“You didn’t see her!”

Kara hadn’t meant to lash out, but Kelly didn’t even flinch.

“I’m just saying that both of you have some significant baggage going into relationships, and both of you could really benefit from some good and open communication. It can’t really get any worse than it is now, right?”

Kelly was right, and Kara knew it, but she didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t have the strength to go back again, to get her heart broken all over again when Lena told her that no, it really was over, there was nothing left to be said. Would she have her driver drop off Kara’s belongings at her apartment, or would Kara have to collect it herself, in an icy silence, while Lena looked on without having to disguise her distaste for her anymore, not having to mask all the ways she must hate -

“Hey Kara, your phone’s blowing up.”

Her sister’s voice dragged her out of her mounting anxiety attack. She was right – the device was vibrating every five seconds in her pocket. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kelly and Alex exchange a look – it really was no mystery who was texting her.

“Do you want to get that?”

Kara shook her head. She didn’t want to see, she didn’t want to know what Lena really thought of her.

“Hey”, Kelly said, cupping her face and gently forcing Kara to meet her eyes.

“If your proposal really, truly upset her, do you think she would try so hard to get a hold of you?”

“I…”, Kara swallowed. Kelly’s words made so much sense, and it was infuriating in a way. Kara would rather eat Alex’ entire stock of ice cream, and make her do a 7pm run to the gas station to get her some more, and cry on her couch until the sun would come up in the morning.

But she knew that Kelly was right, and if there was any part of her relationship with Lena that was salvageable, she had to make an effort. It was worth it. Their love was worth it. She closed her eyes, took one last breath and switched on her display.

Kara I’m so sorry

fuck, what have I done

I screwed up

I understand if you don’t want to talk to me again, and I promise I will honour that decision, but please, let me explain. I won’t make excuses for my behaviour but I need you to know this is not what I wanted to happen

I’m so so sorry

Kara looked up at Kelly and Alex, who were trying their best to contain their curiosity in order to keep their impartial veneer. Kara gave them a tentative smile.

I’m coming over.

It was clear from Lena’s puffy, red-rimmed eyes that she’d been crying as well. When she saw Kara, she made a motion as if to reach out to her, only to retract her hands at the last second, thinking better of it.

“Kara…”, she started, haltingly, “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am.”

“You’ve already said that”, Kara replied. The pain of her previous breakdown was still fresh in her mind and she wasn’t in the mood for having her chain yanked around.

“I know. It’s just…”

Lena sighed. “This is how it’s always been. How every relationship has turned out. I set the boundaries and I watch as they either betray me or lose interest. Everyone except you.”

Kara stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

“I’m a Luthor, Kara, I drag people down with me. I thought if I just drove you away like all the others before I got too attached, if I just kept that last bit of control, it wouldn’t hurt as bad.”

She laughed, mirthlessly.

“I thought wrong, obviously. Because you’re so wonderful, and loyal, and far too good to me, and you stayed. And after all I did, after the expectations I put on you, you still wanted to marry me, and I couldn’t watch you give yourself up like that.”

“So you denied me the choice?”, Kara cried. “Because I chose you, I chose you every single day because I love you-”

“I love you too. I tried to deny it, I tried to hide it from myself but I can’t anymore, I love you and oh God, I don’t want to lose you”, Lena sobbed, borderline incoherent.

“I don’t want to lose you either”, Kara answered, her voice and face softening. Lena’s head whipped up, her mouth forming an astounded o. She reached out again, truly this time, but Kara caught her hand before it could touch her cheek, gently placing it back at Lena’s side. It would be so easy to give in. Kara wanted nothing more than to kiss Lena again, to hold her and pretend that nothing was wrong. But she knew something was wrong, deeply so, and ignoring it would only make the issue fester.

“We need to talk about this”, Kara said, finality heavy in her voice.

Lena nodded, avoiding her eyes, sniffling.

“Tomorrow”, Kara decided. “We’re both upset. We need to have a clear head if we want to find out how to move past this.”

“I know”, Lena replied simply, and Kara couldn’t help herself. She lifted Lena’s chin with a single finger and gave her a reassuring smile.

“Goodnight, Lena. We’ll see each other again tomorrow. I won’t go anywhere.”

“I believe you”, Lena said, and while her voice was hoarse from crying, the determination rang true. There’d still be a them tomorrow.

#supercorptober 2020 #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp #supergirl fanfic #9 for 9 and i had to wrestle my laptop into submission to upload this #this is the fifth try

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eskalations · 4 years

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"I wouldn't tell anyone just yet." The doctor advised her in a gentle tone, seeing the pallor of her skin. The older woman put a hand on her knee in what she assumed was an attempt at a comforting gesture. "Pregnancies at this age rarely make it."

A series of oneshots documenting the life and times of the Amestrian First Family.

A/N: So this idea popped into my head wayyyyy before the events of the first chapter did - however, I held out on writing this one down! I hope you enjoy!

Thanks for reading!

"Mama!" Elizabeth shouted as she bounced excitedly down the steps of the daycare. Riza could feel her heart clench as she watched her daughter's delicate sandals slide haphazardly on her feet, the mother fearing the young girl would trip if she didn't slow down in those shoes. However, Elizabeth made it safely to the ground.

Riza breathed a sigh, glad to have her daughter in front of her once again. She had certainly missed the sweet child.

"Elizabeth, you have to be careful." The woman crouched down to meet her daughter's gaze, using a hand to push an errant strand of black hair behind her ear. "We don't run down stairs. You know that you aren't allowed to do that in the house, either."

With Elizabeth's normally demure nature, Riza thought the girl would quiet after being chastised, but that was not the case. Instead of flashing a pout – reminiscent of her father's – Elizabeth smiled even brighter.

"I'm sorry, Mama!" She chirped, bouncing up on the balls of her feet, tiny hands gripping the straps of her little pink backpack. "I'm excited! Miss Helen is so pretty!"

Having met the young girl's new teacher less than a month back, Riza nodded her head in agreement. She grabbed the little girl's hand as they made their way back home. The five-year-old could barely contain her excitement as she talked animatedly about her day.

It had been a hard decision for her and Roy to enroll their daughter into an educational daycare separate from Central Headquarters. Both had always had a certain peace of mind knowing that their sweet girl was being taken care of just a few floors down, but life inevitably had to keep moving forward and Riza was learning that the hard way.

Two weeks after they had decided to allow their child to attend Central Children's Daycare, Riza had received some startling news.

She was pregnant at forty-one years of age.

The doctor had been shocked – she had been shocked – but it shouldn't have been much of a surprise. Due to their age, she and Roy hadn't bothered with any form of protection in the last year. It had taken them awhile to fall pregnant with Elizabeth, so they felt they had no real reason to worry at this stage in their life. Turns out, they were wrong.

Once Riza started feeling ill, the thought never even crossed her mind. The sickness in this pregnancy spanned the whole day, whereas with Elizabeth, she had only had it in the morning. Roy had guessed she had the flu and insisted she visit the doctor, which after a full week of vomiting daily, she finally agreed to.

That's when they received the news.

Riza had been numb – a familiar rushing in her ears blocking out the words of her physician. She could hardly believe what she had just been told. As her doctor listed out the possible risks for her falling pregnant at such a mature age, Riza could feel herself getting more and more nauseous at the thought of it.

Would she even have a child at the end of this?

Roy had been over the moon – disregarding all the risks that came along with the unplanned pregnancy. Just as he had been for her pregnancy with Elizabeth, the moment he knew, he became her second shadow. It was annoying, more so than the first go around, but when she caught glimpses of the worried look in his eye, she let him do as he pleased.

Riza watched as Elizabeth very nearly skipped down the sidewalk, going on and on about how Miss Helen's father worked in the hospital and how she had thought it was amazing that Elizabeth wanted to work in the same place. The man didn't practice Alkahestry but apparently Elizabeth's teacher had been impressed that the little girl knew what it was.

"I told her about Mama!" Elizabeth pointed at the woman holding her hand, her grammar and sentence structure not as great as it would be in a few years, but still Riza understood. "I told her about the accident."

The First Lady nodded her head, smiling down at the girl. When the child's attention strayed from her though, she couldn't help the slight frown that made its way to her features.

She still didn't know what to think of the young girl's interest in alchemy.

Riza should have known it would happen sooner or later, given the lineage she came from. Not only was Elizabeth's father a renowned alchemist, but her grandfather had been as well. In some strange way, alchemy must run in their blood. It had certainly skipped over Riza, the woman never caring much for the science, but from the moment she watched her daughter's eyes light up at the doctor's ministrations, she knew Elizabeth had been bit hard by the 'alchemy bug'.

Her and Roy had not discussed it much since they knew children at this age were subject to change. Elizabeth's favorite color changed near weekly, so who's to say this wouldn't change as well. She could end up completely detesting alchemy by the time she hit her teens.

Riza seriously doubted it though.

"Mama?" The girl tugged on her mother's hand, fighting for her attention. Beside them, on the road, a car breezed past, breaking Riza from her thoughts. She pulled the child in tighter, hugging her to her side.

"I'm listening, Elizabeth."

The golden tones of the setting sun fell over her daughter's small features. Riza could see the worry behind the crease in the girl's brow and the pout forming on her pink lips.

"Are you okay?" Elizabeth asked softly, excitement forgotten. Riza's heart clenched once more at her daughter's distraught look. She could hear a slight shaking in her voice, signaling that tears were not far off.

Sometimes she forgot how in tune her daughter was to the emotions around her. If anyone's demeanor changed in even the slightest way, Elizabeth would pick up on it. She was very sensitive to her environment, and though he would never admit it, Riza felt like that was something she had inherited from her father. Both were highly emotional people, just in different ways.

Diffusing the situation, Riza crouched down on the sidewalk, ignoring the looks of the pedestrians walking past them, and grabbed her daughter in an affectionate hug. The girl gratefully returned the gesture.

Snuggling her face into her mother's neck, Elizabeth whispered worriedly. "Is it my baby sister?"

Riza sighed at the question, picking the girl up off her feet and placing her on her hip.

"No, Elizabeth – it's not the baby."

She hadn't wanted to tell her daughter of her condition until she was at least five months into the pregnancy. Her doctor had told her to be cautious for a minimum of twelve weeks, but to take great precaution even after that. Knowing how emotional Elizabeth was, Riza didn't want her child to have to go through the heartbreak of losing a sibling if that's how it all ended.

Roy had agreed – but subconsciously, Elizabeth hadn't.

Their daughter was smart. While her words and grammar were still those of a young child, her emotional intelligence was far beyond her years. She could tell something was wrong with her mother. No matter how many times Riza tried to convince her that she had a stomach bug and was just feeling under the weather, the girl wouldn't buy it.

The situation had gotten so bad that Elizabeth had taken to joining her and Roy in their bed almost nightly. This confused both her parents as Elizabeth had never had much trouble sleeping on her own and rarely caused a fuss at night. When asked why she was fearful of sleeping in her own room, she had asked a question that absolutely broke Riza's heart.

"Is Mama dying?"

She had said it with tears in her eyes, lip wobbling as she curled into her mother's side and shoved her face roughly into her neck. Her behavior had worried her parents so much, that they decided to break their silence on the subject, sharing with Elizabeth that in less than seven months, she would become a big sister.

After that, Elizabeth had no problem sleeping in her room once again.

Now, five months into her pregnancy, Riza was feeling better about things. Elizabeth had enjoyed her first day at her new daycare, the morning sickness was gone, Roy was working on drafting up a new trade policy with Aerugo, things were looking up.

As they sat at dinner that night, Riza watching Roy listen raptly to their daughter's rehashing of her day, the woman couldn't help but think to herself that nothing could ruin this moment in her life.

Unfortunately, she was wrong.

Barely in to her sixth month of pregnancy, Riza retrieved her daughter from school and noticed an immediate difference in the girl's usual happy demeanor.

"Elizabeth?" Riza had asked as they began their walk home. She waved at the little elderly woman who sat on her doorstep, greeting the children as they were released from 'school'. Riza looked down and noticed that Elizabeth hadn't even bothered to raise her hand. Something must have happened, that wasn't like her daughter at all. "Elizabeth, what's wrong?"

The girl was strangely silent, her dark eyes staring at the sidewalk in front of her. Knowing these kind of situations were only made worse by prying, Riza decided to let her decide when she was going to come forward with what was bothering her.

By the time they reached their home, Elizabeth still had not said a word. Looking back at the two guards who accompanied her everyday on her walk – something she had only agreed to due to her pregnancy – she could see they were just as confused by the young child's behavior as she was. They were used to watching the mother struggle to curb the young girl's excitement and now today she had barely bothered to even look up.

More surprising was Elizabeth's reaction when she walked through the door.

It was evening, so Roy was already home for the afternoon. Knowing that Riza's feet had been bothering her, he had offered to start dinner for her so she wouldn't have to stand for long. Hearing his two favorite girls enter the hall, Roy turned the stove down to simmer before poking his head out of the kitchen.

"Hi Lizzie." The Fuhrer called, gifting the child with a sweet smile. Riza knew he still missed having their daughter at Headquarters, the man having made it a habit to visit her every day on his lunch break – however, he had been happy to see how much fun his daughter was having learning at her new daycare. He loved getting to hear about her day. "Did you enjoy daycare today?"

Elizabeth's brows drew inward, her expression growing darker as she continued to stare at the ground in front of her. Riza, still holding her hand, shared an uncertain look with Roy. Neither adult knew exactly what had gotten into their daughter.

Without another word, Elizabeth let go of her mother's hand, trudging up the stairs to her room with her backpack still over her shoulders. Roy couldn't hide his surprise as the sound of their daughter slamming her door echoed through the hall. Riza's face wasn't much different than his own.

"What happened?" There was a certain fire in the man's eyes that the woman recognized far too well. It was the same look he got whenever something – or someone – threatened anyone who was of great importance to him. "Did something happen at the daycare?"

"I don't know." Riza answered truthfully. She moved to free herself from her outer coat, the days getting chillier, but her husband beat her to it. She could feel the tension in his hands as he slid the fabric from her shoulders. "She pouted the whole way home."

Roy's brow furrowed, much in the way their daughter's had. Despite her worry, Riza couldn't help the soft laugh that erupted from her lips.

"She reminds me of someone else I know."

The comment had Roy rolling his eyes as he placed her coat on the rack. When he turned back around, his face softened. Riza imagined it was because his gaze had fallen squarely on her swollen stomach.

"Maybe this one will be more like you." Roy sighed, placing a gentle hand on the crest of her belly. The baby had been moving, but he had yet to feel it. Riza placed her own hand on top of his. "I don't think I could handle another 'me'."

Riza laughed at his lament, squeezing his fingers. "Imagine how I feel!"

"I know." Roy smirked, his thumb rubbing a circle above her belly. "I thank whoever will listen daily that I have you in my life."

Riza gave him another smile before turning towards the kitchen, determined to help him finish dinner. She knew he would argue, saying that he could finish it on his own, but she actually enjoyed the act of getting to cook with him. It gave them some time to talk – alone.

Well, as alone as two people could be with two guards always standing just outside their door.

"She's a very well-behaved child." Riza reminded him, lifting her apron over her head. She reached behind her to tie the strings, but Roy beat her to it. Lifting her hair, she continued as he tied the garment securely around her. "We could have ended up with children like the Havoc boys. Then you would have a little more to worry about than just a few grey hairs."

Roy snorted at the comment. "Poor Havoc and Rebecca. I don't know how they survived all these years."

He kissed the back of her neck as he finished, reaching around her to turn the dial of the burner up once again. Riza leaned back as he brought his other arm to wrap around her. Blame it on her pregnancy hormones, but she found herself craving her husband's touch more and more throughout the day. Roy didn't seem to mind at all – in fact, he was quite happy about it.

"I am worried." Riza admitted, leaning her head back on his shoulder. She could feel him tense at the remembrance of his daughter's sour mood. "I've never seen her so upset after daycare. I hope the kids aren't causing her any trouble."

Roy pursed his lips, trying hard to push down thoughts of showing up to her 'school' to teach said "bullies" a lesson. "I hope so too – for their sake, of course."

Riza rolled her eyes and swatted at his thigh. Roy knew better though; the woman was just as protective of their child as he was.

"Maybe she got in trouble with her teacher?" Riza proposed, giving him a sideways glance. Her amber eyes locked with his own, worry evident in her gaze. "You know how upset she gets when she's in trouble."

"Miss Helen's gone…"

The two adults separated at the sound of their daughter's voice. Turning around they saw her standing in the doorway, the evening sun that poured through the window, illuminating the wet trails that kissed the skin of her cheeks. Already she had changed into pajamas, the shirt not matching the pants, but the little girl too upset to care.

The sight broke her parents' hearts.

"Lizzie," Roy murmured gently, making his way to the now trembling girl. Riza stayed by the stove to keep an eye on their dinner – her mind, however, was with her daughter. The mother watched as Roy scooped the girl up and into his arms, cradling her close to his chest.

With her father holding her like a baby, Elizabeth's composure broke. Wrapping her small arms around the man's neck, the young girl buried her warm face into the shoulder of his button-down. A few moments later, choking sobs could be heard.

There was a stricken look on Roy's face as he patted the distraught child's back, sharing a concerned look with Riza. "Lizzie, I'm sorry Miss Helen is gone."

Turning the burner down to simmer once more, Riza chose to join her husband and child in the doorway of the kitchen.

"She didn't say goodbye!" Elizabeth very nearly wailed, her voice shaking as she turned her dark eyes towards her father, the pain evident in their depths. "She left. She left."

Riza raised her hand and rested it over her husband's on their daughter's back. Roy had already started bouncing the girl, attempting to get her to calm down. Riza could see he was at a loss for words, so she decided to step in.

"I bet she had a good reason for leaving." Riza's hand slipped from Roy's to run through her daughter's dark locks. Her hair was getting so long now that it was almost past the middle of her back. It was tangled from the fit the child had probably just thrown in her room moments before. "The good thing is that you'll get a new teacher who will be just as special."

At her mother's words, Elizabeth's face returned to her father's shoulder and the sobs began again. Roy's eyes widened at her response.

"Hey…" The man mumbled into her ear, continuing to bounce as her trembling returned with vigor. Riza removed her hand from the girl's hair, which was then replaced with Roy's. His fingers gently held the back of her neck, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into her skin. "Lizzie, you need to calm down. You'll love your new teacher just as much."

"She…She…" Elizabeth tried to say, but her sobs were causing her to shake too much. Roy waited as she caught her breath, still shushing her between bounces. "She don't like me."

The adults were too surprised by her words to bother correcting their child's grammar. They shared a look of disbelief before their gazes fell back to their daughter.

Their sweet, sensitive, perfect, daughter. The thought of anyone taking issue with the small child was truly a foreign concept to them. Surely, Elizabeth had misinterpreted something.

"Elizabeth," Riza stepped around Roy, meeting the eyes of her daughter over the curve of his shoulder. The girl's eyes were bloodshot and clear liquid still sat in pools at the bottom of her lids. If Riza wasn't careful, her pregnancy hormones were going to send her into a round of tears as well. "What are you talking about? There's no way your teacher couldn't like you."

Knowing the girl was as well-behaved as they came, and that the Havoc boys had all come out of that school unscathed and liked by each of their teachers, Roy had to agree with his wife. He nodded in a show of support for the statement, pressing a gentle hand to the head of his daughter.

Their agreeance did very little to calm Elizabeth's fears. While her breathing was no longer labored – a new set of tears fell down her cheeks. Propping her chin on her father's shoulder, the girl gazed at her mother sadly with big, black eyes.

"Trouble."

The one word had Riza sighing in relief, her earlier theory proven correct. Now knowing the reason behind the young girl's mood, the mother found herself bestowing a gentle smile on the child. Noticing the release of tension in Roy's shoulders, she could tell he was relieved as well.

"There's no reason to get so worked up over something like that." Riza brushed the bangs back from the girl's face, their tips wet from the earlier round of tears. "That doesn't mean your teacher doesn't like you. If you apologized for what you did, then I'm sure everything will be back to normal tomorrow."

Rather than giving her mother a smile in return, the furrow in Elizabeth's brow returned. Her arms tightened around Roy's neck, drawing herself closer to the chest of her father.

"I didn't do it."

Riza was surprised by this, Elizabeth not normally the one to strike up a defense. Their child was honest to a fault and was rarely able to get away with anything. The Havoc boys once teased that she was a notorious squealer whenever they would try and put their crazy plans in to action.

That's why her denial in this situation was so unusual.

"What do you mean, Lizzie?" Roy asked, turning his head so he could see his daughter's expression. His hand was still on her back, the warmth meant to encourage her to put her trust in him and reveal what was bothering her. "What did you get in trouble for?"

The furrow in her brows deepened, the tears forming in the lower portion of her eyes once more. "Stealing."

To say the two parents were surprised was an understatement.

"Stealing?" Riza asked for clarification. Elizabeth whimpered, nodding her head and hiding her eyes in her father's shoulder. "What did she say you stole?"

"Paper," Elizabeth mumbled, the words muffled by the fabric of Roy's shirt. The man ran his fingers through her hair, encouraging her to say more. "Timothy's paper."

"Did you take it?" The girl's mother asked, shifting closer to her husband and daughter. At her words, Elizabeth shook her head vehemently, looking up at her mother.

"No," Elizabeth answered honestly. Riza could see the genuine hurt in the young girl's eyes at the accusation. "I promise."

Roy patted the girl's back. "We believe you, Lizzie."

Riza nodded her head to show her support for her husband's statement. "We know you wouldn't steal. Your teacher doesn't know you that well, so it was probably a misunderstanding."

Elizabeth looked unconvinced, but nodded nonetheless.

After the discussion, the family went back to preparing dinner, Roy allowing their daughter to assist him in stirring the stew that sat on the stove. As Riza watched her husband and daughter make dinner, she couldn't shake the strange feeling that was nestled in her belly. She tried to brush off the interaction as a fluke, one that wouldn't be repeated in the future.

However, something told her this wasn't the last time her daughter would come home in tears over the actions of her new teacher.

Roy walked Elizabeth to daycare the next morning.

It was their daily ritual, since Riza usually finished her duties earlier in the afternoon and was able to do pickup. Besides, with Riza now pregnant, the woman tended to oversleep more often than naught in the mornings, making Roy the obvious choice as Elizabeth's chauffeur for drop-off.

The girl was quiet, gripping his hand tightly as they made their way down the sidewalk. The street was bustling with cars, the citizens of Central speeding down the pavement. There were a few honks and waves, all directed at the Fuhrer, which he gladly returned with a smile. However, once the act was over, his mouth would fall back into a frown as he watched his daughter stare glumly at the laces of her shoes.

Roy remained silent for the entirety of their journey. He knew that when he was down, the last thing he wanted was for people to try and cheer him up. Elizabeth would see, after attending school, that things were different from yesterday. That was the only thing at this point that could possibly raise her spirits.

With his two standard bodyguards behind them, Roy approached the small, white building that was the Central Children's Daycare. Already, there were many parents in the schoolyard, kissing their children goodbye and wishing them a good day at school. A few of the children waved at Elizabeth, to which she raised a tentative hand in response.

Roy smiled. His girl was still in there; she was just a little nervous.

Crouching down to her level, Roy adjusted the straps of her pink backpack over the shoulders of her lavender dress. "It's going to be fine, Lizzie."

His words were meant to be encouraging, but Elizabeth's frown grew. Her dark eyes peered resolutely at the ground in front of her, refusing to look up into the gentle eyes of her father. Knowing that there was little he could say to comfort the girl, he ruffled her hair before standing up, about ready to take his leave.

That's when he noticed something – or someone – from the corner of his eye.

Standing on the porch of the daycare, the door wide open for the children to make their way inside, stood a young woman. It wasn't the button-down or pencil skirt that caught the Fuhrer's attention, it was the piercing gaze and hateful expression.

With eyes as red as blood and hair as white as snow, it was obvious the woman was Ishvalan.

"That's Miss Abra."

The whisper came from behind his leg, Elizabeth having angled herself to hide behind him at the sight of her teacher. With those words, Roy could feel the bile rising in his throat.

Surely, this woman wasn't taking her hatred for him out on his child.

The bell rang out to signal the start of the 'school' day. The other children began filtering in, but Roy could feel Elizabeth's grip tighten on his military blues. Ignoring the eyes he could still feel boring into him, he patted her head in encouragement, trying not to allow himself to fear the worst. Elizabeth could usually pick up on emotions, so if he acted nervous, she would feel that way as well.

One of the other little girl's in her class, came bouncing over, blonde curls flying behind her as she excitedly grabbed for Elizabeth's hand. After sharing a look with her father, she allowed the other child to pull her away and into the school building.

Once all the children were inside, the young Miss Abra glanced once more at the Fuhrer, before following suit behind her students.

'Now this…' Roy thought to himself, slowly turning away from the building to rejoin his bodyguards. The men nodded at the Fuhrer as he once more took the lead. '…could potentially be a problem.'

That thought was the one he brought up with Riza that night as they lounged in bed. While he had told his wife upon arrival at Headquarters about catching a glimpse of Elizabeth's new teacher, he hadn't mentioned her Ishvalan heritage. Once Riza knew of this tidbit of information, her worry mirrored his.

Elizabeth hadn't been upset when her mother had picked her up from school – however, she hadn't been happy either. When asked if she had gotten in trouble again, the girl responded with a quiet 'no', but Riza could tell there was something else bothering her. Given her susceptibility to other's emotions, Riza now theorized that the young girl could probably sense the disdain her teacher felt for her.

"I guess our worries from before have proven to be valid."

Roy spoke quietly, knowing the Elizabeth was asleep just down the hall. The girl hadn't fought against her bedtime, but neither parent wanted to wake her in the midst of their discussion. It was one that they had always feared would come about, but that they hoped against all hope they wouldn't have to deal with.

How foolish they were.

With their bedside lamps still on, the couple regarded each other. Roy was in a pair of sleep pants, while Riza wore one of his larger, cotton button-downs. Anyone who looked in on the scene would see a pair of normal, run-of-the-mill parents – however, that was only half the story. Normal parents would never have to discuss the treatment their child was receiving due to the sins of their past.

Normal parents weren't murderers.

Riza rubbed her belly, feeling the child within beginning to wake with her lack of movement. "We knew this day would come. I think we became complacent somewhere along the way thinking it wouldn't."

Roy turned from his back to his side, reaching a hand out to lay next to Riza's on her stomach. It had become a part of their nightly routine for him to try and coax a kick out of their baby.

"I don't know what the right answer it." Roy admitted quietly, rubbing a thumb into the fabric of his old shirt. Riza's fingertips met his own, giving him the strength to continue. "I can't blame her for the hatred she has."

"No." Riza agreed, flashing a sad smile his way. The blonde fringe that hung over her forehead, drifted into her eyes as she looked down at the sheets between them. "I can't say I blame her either – it's justified."

"But to take it out on a child…"

"Roy," Riza stopped him, her amber eyes lifting and staring into his. He could see the ancient pain behind her gaze. "We killed innocent children in a fight that was meant to be amongst adults. I don't think it's fair of us to judge."

The man knew she was right.

"So what do we do?" He finally asked, rubbing his palm over her belly. He could have sworn he felt something, but couldn't say for sure. Perhaps, the baby was already cursing their parents for bringing it into an existence like this. An existence where they could possibly be hated. "Should we pull her from the daycare?"

Riza gave him an unimpressed look. While Roy would love to have his daughter back within the walls of Central Headquarters, they had sent her to Central Children's to get her ready for Primary School next year. She needed to be exposed to a school structure and to school lessons. It was paramount for her development.

"I don't think that's the answer." Riza voiced dryly, patting the top of his hand when he pouted. "You and I both know that she needs to start schooling. The Havoc children began early and so did the Elrics. I want her to have the best opportunities possible, especially since they're available to us."

Roy understood this since he wanted the same thing. "I know, but that still doesn't answer my question."

Riza sighed, knowing he was right. "I guess we should talk with the headmaster of the daycare and let her know our position. I'm sure they could move Elizabeth into another class."

"Away from her friends?" Roy asked sadly, hating the situation they had put their daughter in. Riza's look mirrored his own.

"Yes, away from her friends. I just don't see any other options. Let's give it a week and then make the decision."

The Fuhrer could agree to these terms, not wanting to jump the gun before giving this Miss Abra a chance. It wouldn't be fair to try and ask for her forgiveness by performing acts of repentance, if he wasn't willing to give her the same opportunity in return.

As if agreeing with the two adults' decision, the baby within Riza's womb kicked weakly against the wall of their mother's stomach. Roy's eyes widened in surprise as Riza's lips grew into a soft smile. He always had that look of wonder on his face when it came to their children.

"Did the baby just…?" The last part of the question drifted off as he stared pointedly at her stomach, his dark eyes practically begging the child to do it again. However, at this stage, Riza knew the baby wasn't going to be noticeably active often. She was happy though that Roy got to feel some of the movement she had been feeling over the past few weeks.

With a hand lain over his, Riza rubbed a thumb against the rough texture of his skin. "I think the baby agrees with our reasoning."

Roy smiled down at her belly. In the dim lamplight of the room, the couple shared a gentle kiss – the beauty of bringing another life into this world hitting them once more. They had never expected to have Elizabeth and now they were getting the opportunity to have another, surely their luck would run out somewhere along the way. After all, neither of them had ever done anything to deserve such good fortune.

After turning out the lights and snuggling down in bed, Roy wrapped his arms around his wife, palms flat on her stomach, trying his hardest to get the baby to kick again.

"The doctor says everything's alright?" Riza smiled at his question, knowing good and well that she had told him exactly what the doctor had said after her visit on Monday.

"Everything is as it should be." Riza assured him, patting his hand in a comforting gesture. "Though she's still cautious given my age, the baby is growing at the same rate Elizabeth did. We aren't out of the woods completely, and won't be until their born, but the doctor seems to be rather hopeful now that we've made it to this point."

Roy smiled into the back of her neck, nuzzling his nose into her skin. When he inhaled, he could smell the mint fragrance that was used in her shampoo. It smelled like her, it smelled like home.

"Are we still good on the names?" He asked, curious if she had changed her mind. From the pat on the back of his hand though, he could tell she was still resolute on what they had picked out only a month before.

"Yes." She answered, twining her fingers with his. "I think the names are perfect."

Roy smiled before drifting off to sleep.

Whatever problems came their way; they would face them together.

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