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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

Father of Mine – 2/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: absent father, subtle violence, mention of family death

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

Part 1

Bruce was working in the cave when Alfred interrupted him.

“Master Wayne, a guest has arrived unexpectedly.”

Bruce gave him a strange look. Hardly anyone showed up to the manor unannounced.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Alfred added.

“Right,” Bruce sighed.

“She’s waiting for you in your office.”

Bruce found Y/N pacing in the room, refusing to take the seat that he was sure Alfred offered her.

“Y/N,” he greeted, remembering how she disliked the formalities last night.

She whipped around at his greeting. “Am I your charity case now?”

He feigned confusion. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

She looked offended by his lie. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You paid all of my outstanding expenses that my mother left me.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“Don’t try to lie to me,” she warned.

Bruce closed his mouth.

“Look, I don’t need your help,” Y/N sighed in obvious irritation. “Did you or did you not pay them?”

He took in a shallow breath, “I did.”

Y/N clenched her jaw as Bruce finally admitted his deed.

“I was only trying to help.”

“You can’t just throw money at me and expect it to make up for being a no-show.”

Bruce tensed.

Did that mean…Did she know?

“You read the letter?” He asked.

“No,” she clarified. “But I figured it out.”

“I had no idea,” he tried to tell her.

“I don’t care,” she almost snorted.

“You have ever right to be angry with me…”

“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed.”

She took a defiant step toward him and crossed her arms.

The heeled boots she had on caused her already tall height to make her be eye to eye with Bruce.

How many people had faced off with Batman and cowered with fear?

But she didn’t submit or show any signs of intimidation.

“Do you think I cried myself to sleep every night as a child, wondering where my dad was or why he didn’t want me?” Y/N hissed.

Bruce didn’t respond.

“You think I give a fuck about the father-daughter dances? Or whatever the hell people think dads are only capable of doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “The thing is…I didn’t need you. I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you now.”

Bruce felt sick as he listened to her.

“I have the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t have been there for those anyway,” she added roughly. “My mom loved me more than enough. I didn’t need anyone else. And she made damn sure of that.”

“So I’m not your charity case to make yourself feel better after my mom made it clear she thought it was better to keep me from you, than to ever tell you that I existed. Says a lot about what kind of person she thought you are, huh?”

When Y/N finally stopped, she was taking deep breaths.

Bruce wondered how long she had that all bottled up. He didn’t think anything she said was a lie. Y/N didn’t need him. That had become clear.

She had grown up to be a successful, intelligent, and independent young woman.

And she got that way without a father figure of any sort.

After a few moments, Bruce finally bowed his head and cleared his throat. “I never intended on making you feel like a charity case.”

Bruce saw as Y/N took in a deep breath and the guilt slowly took over her expression.

“Look,” Y/N sighed, “we finally know the truth. Let’s just…let’s just move on with our lives. OK?”

Bruce couldn’t deny that the suggestion hurt.

After processing the news over the past week or so, he realized he wanted to get to know her. This wasn’t the first time a child of his had been dropped on him far too late. He had failed Damian in so many ways because of it.

But Y/N was a young woman, fully developed and independent now. And Bruce couldn’t help but wonder that him being absent from her childhood had only benefitted her.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally told her.

Y/N didn’t know him well enough to hear the underlying pain in his words.

So she simply nodded and walked past him, having nothing more to say.

——————

Bruce adjusted his tie. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off his neck.

But he was on his best behavior tonight.

This year, the Gotham Gazette was given the honor of hosting the Pulitzer Prizes. And since Bruce and Wayne Enterprises donated quite a large sum of money to the Gotham Gazette, they felt inclined to invite him.

Bruce had every intention of skipping, until he found out that Lois Lane was receiving an award and Clark would also be attending.

He figured the least he could do was congratulate her and say hi to both of them.

That’s why he was trying to find them as soon as possible so he could and get the hell out of there.

Bruce finally spotted Clark talking to a woman whose back was to him. All he saw of her was the black dress and y/h/c hair.

He made his way over.

Clark noticed him when he was a few feet away.

“I see you’ve finally left your cave,” he teased with a lift of his brow. “I honestly didn’t expect you to show.”

But when the woman Clark was speaking to turned to look at him, Bruce swore he felt his heart stop.

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, clearly just as surprised at seeing Bruce.

None of this went missed by Clark. “Oh, do you two know each other?”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond. What would Y/N want?

So he hesitated.

“I shot him for a cover once,” Y/N answered quickly.

She was a shockingly smooth liar.

Maybe she got that from Bruce, too.

But she didn’t realize that Clark could hear her heart rate quicken, catching the fib.

“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Bruce asked, recovering quickly.

“Y/N works with Lois a lot,” Clark answered. “She basically refuses to work with any other photographer.”

Y/N managed to force a smile.

“I should actually go find her and say my congrats,” she answered.

“And I need to hunt down a drink,” she mumbled.

Both men caught it.

Clark was rather taken aback by how she fled.

The Y/N he knew was always charming and kind, usually life of the party. He’d never seen her dodge a conversation in such a way before.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Clark gave a intimidating glare to Bruce.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He asked Bruce.

But Bruce only clenched his jaw.

“Past fling?” Clark asked with a somewhat disappointed tilt of his head.

“No. Nothing like that,” Bruce quickly corrected.

Not only did the idea make him feel sick. But if rumors started of the two of them being romantically linked, Bruce knew it would only make Y/N hate him more than she clearly already did.

Thankfully, Clark took his denial seriously.

“She’s not my biggest fan,” Bruce added darkly.

“Y/N is a good friend,” Clark told him – almost in warning. “Lois and her have become rather close over the years.”

Then Clark smirked. “She does know how to hold a grudge though. And she’ll make your life hell...if you deserve it.”

Bruce’s brain hurt as he realized how easily Y/N and his path’s could’ve crossed. She had been friends with Clark and Lois this whole time?

“I’m happy for her,” Clark added.

“Happy for her?”

Clark looked at Bruce as if it was obvious. “She’s being awarded tonight, too.”

How could Bruce not have realized? Why didn’t he think of looking at the list of people being awarded tonight? He’d been dreading attending so much that he didn’t even consider it.

“Bruce?” Clark asked with concern.

“Hmm?” He was not one to hum or mumble.

“You alright?”

Bruce didn’t have a lot of friends.

But Clark Kent was one of them. And him and Diana had noticed how Bruce was acting off for weeks now. Bruce was notorious for remaining stoic and giving nothing for people to try and guess what he was thinking or feeling. But they both knew it was something different.

Someone over Bruce’s shoulder suddenly waved Clark over.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Clark told Bruce politely.

Bruce’s first instinct was to leave now that he knew Y/N was also in attendance.

But he knew he couldn’t act so cowardly.

Was he really that scared of his own daughter?

His eyes glanced around the room looking for her.

He spotted Y/N at one of the bars.

Either her conversation with Lois had been quick, or she simply used that as an excuse to get away from Bruce.

Bruce walked up beside Y/N at the bar.

He knew she felt his arrival by the way her body tensed.

“Had I known you would be here I would not have attended,” he told her while looking straight ahead.

Y/N ignored his apology. “How do you know Clark?”

“He’s a friend,” Bruce answered casually.

Then he allowed himself to take a sideways glance at her.

Her jaw was clenched.

He wondered what thoughts she was holding back.

Y/N really did remind him of her mother.

When they were together, Bruce was convinced she was the prettiest girl in the world. He wondered if Y/N had found someone in her life who told her the same.

“Congratulations on being honored tonight,” Bruce offered sincerely.

“Thank you,” she answered shortly.

A beat passed between them.

Bruce was about to give up and leave her be.

“Does Clark think I’m one of your one-night stands now?”

Y/N might not know Bruce well, but everyone was familiar with his romantic history. He wasn’t one to keep the same woman around for long.

“No,” he quickly answered. “I made sure to prevent such a rumor from starting.”

Y/N finally slowly turned to him, her annoyance clear. “And you’re convinced that he really believed you?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Clark has always been rather good at detecting a lie.” His tone was so confident that it left little room for argument.

But Bruce knew a losing battle when he saw one.

He dipped his head. “Enjoy the rest of your night. Congratulations again.”

But Bruce lingered, debating if he wanted to say what was on my mind.

“You look very beautiful. Just like your mother.”

There was nothing creepy or contrived about it.

Y/N blinked at the compliment, completely taken aback.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Bruce dipped his head and finally surrendered, leaving the party.

Y/N felt a presence behind her shoulder as he watched him leave.

“Was Bruce Wayne just hitting on you?” Lois asked with amusement.

“No. Not at all,” her tone was dazed and confused.

“He’s a good guy,” Lois told her lightly.

“Doubt it.”

“I mean it,” Lois insisted. “The media has given him a bad image. But I think he likes it that way,” she shrugged. “It’s not easy for him to open up. He’s not quick to trust.”

Lois thought she was building up a possible suitor for Y/N, having not a clue that she was describing Y/N’s father to her.

But Y/N was too busy thinking about how much Bruce sounded like her.

—————

A few weeks had gone by since Bruce and Y/N had run into each other at the ceremony.

It got Bruce to thinking: would he and Y/N had run into each other at some point in life – even without her mother’s posthumously confession?

Y/N knew Lois and Clark, lived in Gotham, seemed to know the same people through her work that Bruce was forced to interact with to keep up his persona.

Would he have sensed a connection had that been the case?

The possibilities kept Bruce up at night…along with the guilt that had already been eating away at him since he first read the later. And he’d read it 100 times more since.

Of all the boys, Dick was the only one that knew of Y/N’s existence. And if he hadn’t been at the right place at the right time, Bruce never would’ve told him. He had just been in shock after reading the letter that he blurted out the realization while Dick was in the same room.

Since then, Bruce didn’t linger in a room alone with him, knowing Dick would finally let all of his questions loose. And Bruce wasn’t ready to answer them.

While Tim was the one to connect them, he never followed through with what the situation was. He already had too much to deal with on a daily basis. Tim simply thought he was doing a nice favor for a beautiful woman.

But if Bruce had told him, Tim would immediately do every possible background check on Y/N. He would be suspicious of the timing and underlying motives. He would probably assume that Y/N’s end goal was to get money or fame – or both. Bruce knew eventually Tim would come to the conclusion that Y/N wanted neither of those things. But it would still get an unnecessary rise out of the boy.

Bruce didn’t even want to think about how Damian would handle it. He knew his son felt a certain level of pride from being the only blood-son of his. Knowing he had a sibling – and an older sister at that – would most likely enrage him. And that wouldn’t make anything better.

Jason…Well, Jason would get a kick out of Bruce letting down yet another child. And it would just be worse that she was blood related. He’d be curious about Y/N. Hell, he’d probably be tickled by the no-bullshit attitude Y/N had towards Bruce and her harsh efforts to keep him out of her life completely.

Now, Bruce sat at a Justice League meeting.

They were only a few minutes into a council session when his communicator started going off.

The boys knew not to contact him unless it was an emergency. So, he quickly excused himself and stood to leave the room.

“What is it?” Bruce answered, his Batman voice in full form.

“There’s been an attack at city hall,” Dick reported back hurriedly.

Bruce frowned. The boys had handled much worse things on their own before. There had to be more to it than that.

“Scarecrow,” Dick confirmed. “He released a fear toxin. It’s bad Bruce. The mayor has been infected, along with half of their staff. I think it’s a new string. Our antidote doesn’t seem to doing anything. Even if it did, we don’t have nearly enough for the amount of victims.”

“The others?” Bruce asked quickly – meaning Damian, Jason, and Tim.

“They’re fine. Jason’s trying to get everyone out before they inhale too much. Tim and Damian went after Scarecrow. GPD is in a panic.”

Bruce turned to see Clark had raced to his side. Clearly he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. But the expression in his face prevented Bruce from getting into an argument about it.

“What?” Bruce asked him, knowing something was wrong.

“Lois and Y/N were at that council meeting,” Clark breathed out.

“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce told Dick before hanging up.

—

Bruce thought he knew fear from the few times his boys had been in trouble. But it was nothing compared to the fear he had knowing it was Y/N this time. She wasn’t a trained vigilante; she was just an innocent civilian. Bruce had not insured that she was trained and could take care of herself.

As soon as Clark dropped them on the ground, they were in the midst of the chaos.

“Lois!” Clark yelled.

People were too distracted to notice Superman and Batman had arrived.

Bruce looked over to see Lois rushing to Clark. He could tell it took all of Clark’s willpower not to embrace Lois from his relief.

“Are you OK?” Clark asked as he dipped his head and his eyes raced across his wife’s body.

“I-I’m fine. I got lucky. Somehow I was out of range of the gas explosion.”

“Y/N?” Bruce interrupted. “Did you see Y/N?”

“She was helping these kids get out and I was getting shoved out of the building. I tried to get to her but it was impossible with everyone’s panic. I think she’s still in there.”

Before Bruce could turn to Clark to come up with a plan, Clark flew into the building. A few people finally noticed the presence of superheroes and started murmuring.

“Nightwing, Red Hood – I’m at the front entrance of City Hall.”

Clark flew back to them not even 30 seconds later.

Y/N was unconscious in his arms.

“Oh my god,” Lois muttered at Y/N’s condition.

“She’s gone into shock. We need to get her to the medics,” Clark informed them. “She was exposed to the toxin more than the others.”

But Bruce was already shaking his head. “They won’t be able to help her.”

Clark gently handed Y/N to Bruce as he explained, “There are others in there.”

Just then Nightwing and Red Hood dropped in front of them.

Nightwing immediately recognized Y/N and his eyes shot up to Bruce with worry.

“Nightwing, I need you to take her back to the cave,” he tried to sound as controlled as possible.

Bruce was confused why Dick hesitated to take Y/N out of his arms.

“Do you have the batmobile? I brought my motorcycle,” Dick sounded apologetic when he explained.

Jason stepped forward before Bruce could answer. “I got her.”

As if she were the most fragile being ever, Jason carefully took Y/N’s unconscious body from Bruce’s grip. He could see in Bruce’s gaze that she was someone special. How and why, Jason would figure out later.

Jason had seen Y/N trying to help as many people before she was completely poisoned from the toxin. She’d risked her life to help.

Watching Jason cradle her into his body caught Clark off guard, always seeing the brute strength and almost animalistic energy from Red Hood whenever they so happened to fight beside each other.

“Meet us at the cave,” Bruce clarified. “Alfred will know what to do. We have to help out here more.”

Jason nodded before he hurried away with her and rushed to his hidden car.

——————

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she shot up, sitting in a cot.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a voice she didn’t recognize said beside her. “You gotta relax.”

She turned to see a mammoth of a man sitting beside her, wearing vigilante gear with at least two guns being displayed at his sides. But it was the red helmet completely hiding his face and true voice that made Y/N feel uncomfortable.

“What the fuck,” she groaned at the sight of him.

Just a few seconds later, two men rushed into the room.

Bruce walked in still in his Batman uniform, but without his cowl – to Jason’s shock.

Clark was beside him, making Jason confused as to why he was still here. Surely he would want to be with Lois.

Y/N took in the sight before her.

“You were poisoned with a new strand of Scarecrow’s toxin,” Superman explained.

Y/N had seen plenty of pictures and shaky video of him. But now that the man stood before her, she immediately recognized him.

“Clark?” She gasped.

He didn’t say anything. But his expression didn’t fight her realization, just silently waited for the truth to settle.

“Does Lois know?” Was her next question.

Clark smirked at that. “Of course.”

Y/N gave a slight nod.

But now her attention switched to Bruce.

The Batman symbol was large across his chest, and his cape was still intact.

She looked around her surroundings and then up at the ceiling.

They were in a cave.

“You’re…you’re…” she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Batman,” Bruce finally offered.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic.

How was this possible?

Now that the others had exposed their identity, Jason felt inclined to take off his helmet. Clearly, it was making her uncomfortable.

The hiss of his helmet being removed caused Y/N to finally look away from her father and to Jason, who still wore a domino mask. But it was far less frightening than the helmet.

“We’ll give you two a moment alone,” Clark spoke for both him and Jason.

Jason nodded and stood up from the seat beside Y/N, and walked out.

Clark lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he told her.

He might’ve revealed his Superman identity to her, but she was still his friend.

Y/N managed to nod in thanks, but was clearly still shook by all this news.

Bruce very slowly made his way to the chair that Jason had just been sitting in.

“How are you feeling?”

She shook her head. “Body’s sore. Migraine is killing me. What happened?”

“You were more exposed to the toxin more than the other victims. Jason brought you here. We had to make a new anecdote, and quickly.”

Bruce wanted to add that she could’ve died. But he didn’t see the use in scaring her.

“Oh,” was all she managed to mumble.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“Very few people know the truth about me,” Bruce explained.

Y/N’s gaze flickered up from her lap to look at him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I figured I couldn’t ask you to allow me into your world if I didn’t allow you into mine.”

She was silent.

“Y/N…” Bruce cleared his throat. The time had come. “The reason I left your mother was because I was starting this life. I pushed her away to protect her. I knew I couldn’t be the man she deserved while also being Batman. Had I known the truth…”

His words died out. It was starting to become harder to control his emotions.

He leaned forward in his chair, just getting slightly closer to her.

“Had I known about you, I would’ve…” He cleared his throat to try and hold back his tears. “I never would’ve abandoned you or your mother.”

He leaned back then. “But I know those are just words. And to you, they probably sound like empty promises for the past.”

“She never knew?” Y/N whispered.

In the few moments she was allowed to process this information, her mind immediately wondered if her mom had known about Bruce’s double life all along. And that’s why she kept him away from her.

Bruce shook his head.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to tell me your secret,” Y/N finally told him. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone,” she quickly added, feeling like she just needed to clarify that to him.

He gave her a small small, “I know.”

Y/N winced as she thought about how terrible she’d been to him all this time. Now that she knew the truth – the whole truth – she was looking at everything with a new perspective. Even what she knew about Bruce Wayne, the spoiled socialite... it was clearly all wrong.

He used it as a cover. It was all a cover.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” she whispered shakily.

But Bruce shook his head before she could even get the apology out.

“Do you think it’s too late for us?” She breathed.

Could they ever find any fragment of a father-daughter relationship?

Y/N was an adult – she had been for years now. And she made it clear she didn’t need nor want a father.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me,” Bruce sighed.

Her brow furrowed. “This meaning…?”

“My son, Damian. His mother kept him a secret from me. She didn’t reveal his existence until he was nine. And she only did it in an attempt to disrupt my life.”

“This seems to be a rather strange pattern in your life,” Y/N couldn’t help but point out.

Bruce glared at her, causing her to chuckle.

“My point is,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s ever too late.” And he cleared his throat quickly. “That is, if you want to try.”

“I think I do,” she answered with a shy smile.

It was the first time she’d done so in his presence.

“I don’t know anything about raising a daughter,” Bruce rubbed his face as he attempted to make the joke. But she could tell there was sincerity there, too.

“Well, I’ve already been raised,” Y/N laughed.

There.

That laugh.

It brought Bruce back to his teenage years. It sounded so much like her mother. Her face lit up just like her’s had.

“You remind me so much of your mother,” he gasped.

Her face dropped at his confession.

“Really?”

He nodded. “She said you were just like me. But there’s more of her in you than I think she ever realized.”

Bruce saw his much his words effected her.

Y/N’s eyes were shiny with tears, but she managed to hold them back.

“So what now?” She quickly asked, obviously trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t have a complete emotional breakdown.

“Well, Alfred should have dinner ready soon. Would you stay?”

She gave him a tear-filled smile. “I’d like that.”

“You can meet the rest of them,” Bruce told her casually as he stood.

“The rest of them?”

He nodded. “Well, you only have to meet Damian now. You already met Jason, Dick, and Tim in passing.”

“And here I thought you had no idea how to be a father…” Y/N muttered with amusement.

Bruce helped her get out of bed, making sure she was alright to stand and walk on her own.

“Well, depending on which of them you ask, they might tell you that you’re right.”

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

Thank you to everyone who read the first part. Let me know what you think <3

BONUS: This Game of Ours

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dourpeep · 3 years

Text

The men of Genshin as romance types:

This just kind popped up in my head after thinking about Xiao's characterization! I might add to this in the future, but for now it's just a small list of headcanons + a short blurb :>

Contains: Lots of fluff, lightly suggestive

Features: Albedo, Venti, Kaeya, Xiao, Zhongli, Childe, and Diluc

Note: you can be soft and still top btw, this is only for how they'd be romantically

Sweet:

Albedo

Albedo is also shown canonically to do little gestures like give people the sketch he did of them to see them smile, this man might seem kinda standoffish at first, but he's not cold

From his voicelines and story, we also know that Albedo is the type of person to think pretty deeply about everything around him

His brain goes 100 miles an hour with all the possibilities and scenarios he can think of

So with his s/o, the best thing that could happen is that he'll take the time to really slow down and unwind

Being a busy, busy man in pursuit of knowledge beyond anyone's comprehension, Albedo rarely gets time off (his sketches are considered research, in a way, no?)

So once he's finally at home, there will be lots of little shows of affection

Passing behind you, perhaps a light touch on your back or shoulder to let you know he's there

On a particularly rough day, he'll sit facing you with his forehead resting on your chest and just--take your hands and put them in his hair

Not really the type to pamper, but there's no doubt of his love

Probably the type of guy to like sitting close in silence

Maybe on the nights you cook, he'll come and wrap his arms around your waist, head leaning on your shoulder as he watches you work

Quietly, you lay on the couch tangled up in his arms, the soft sound of breathing and the light warmth you feel lulling you to sleep. It seems that, even though Albedo is left half asleep from a long day of research, he still continues to trace mindless little patterns on the back of your hand with his thumb. You shift, and he hums, pulling you closer.

Venti

The man’s been through so much, honestly

He's lost his closest friend, helped a rebellion usurp a tyrant, been through a war that lasted centuries, watched as another friend he'd known since birth fall to corruption (but ultimately was saved)

Point being, he's tired and just wants to have his fun

True to his nature, he likes to tease and poke at his s/o, but nothing that can't be undone (after all, a prank isn't funny if it's permanent)

Hand holding, is a must! Venti is a very affectionate person who isn't afraid to express his feelings when it comes to his s/o

Lots of smooches too! (Please smooch him back)

Speaking of hands and smooches, he's the type to bring your hand to his lips and give each your fingertips a little kiss. They've done so much for you and allow him the joy of holding them, so it's the least he can do!

His type of love is free and sweeter than the scent of cecelias, soft as the wind that kisses your skin

Really, he wants to be able to treasure you as much as he can in the time you have together

Today was a picnic date kind of day. A basket filled with fresh, ripe sunsettias and a few dishes you both worked together to make (mostly you, after what happened with Venti's apple cake) sat on top of a sturdy blanket laid on the grass. Head laid in your lap, the wandering bard strummed idly on his lyre, adding a lovely backdrop to an already perfect day.

Romantic:

Kaeya

Of course, the suave Captain doesn't stop with honeyed words

Mysterious as he is, he takes what he does in stride

If he could spend all his life entwined with you, he'd die a happy man

Kaeya is the type of partner to romance with candlelight and nighttime strolls on the beach

A little cheesy, yes, but all the more to sweep you off your feet

Flirty, he likes to take his time with his love and while he similarly treasures his s/o, it's in the way the fairytales are written

Perhaps a little cliche at times

Nevertheless, he's the type of partner to sweep you into a dance despite there being no music and dip you low (whether you both lose balance and fall is up to gravity)

He'll show his affection physically, whether through a quick kiss when you stop by the Favonious Knight's HQ, or pulling you close when you walk through a crowd on a market day

Teasing is also a big thing, if he can make you blush, his mission is accomplished

In privacy, expect his treatment to be the same--it wouldn't do any good if he leaves his dear s/o confused about how he feels

Once again, you take his hand and he sweeps you into a lively waltz, sweeping across the living room floor. Not once do his eyes leave yours. All he ever needs is the feel of you close and the rush of his heart in his chest that bubbles into something fonder when your laugh reaches his ears.

Xiao

Not the best with words, Xiao shows his love through his actions

Little gifts, helping now and then with commissions and clearing the road, he'll do it all with no expectation of thanks (should you thank him, he'll be extremely grateful for the recognition but also perhaps unsure how to react)

He doesn't tend towards physically showing affection to his s/o, so when he does, expect them to show his utter devotion

Often, Xiao questions what it is that he did to deserve such a love, but as soon as you appear in his view, it no longer matters because as long as you believe him to be worthy, why wouldn't he be?

His love is based deeply in trust. The heart is a fragile thing and to someone who's suffered so much in his lifetime, he guards it fiercely to protect himself

When he finally does allow himself the comfort of a relationship, he'll soak it up entirely

Nights spent stargazing on the top of Wangshu Inn, pinkies intertwined, or bodies held together tightly with the sweet exchange of breath

Every touch that he offers is gentle, reverent, and serves to remind him that what he's experiencing is real

He tried, really, for the thing on the plate to turn out the way that you usually make it. It's a far cry from what he remembers, but you set it down and bring your hands to his face. The sight of your beaming smile warms him deeply and he pulls you in close for a kiss.

Zhongli

Be still, my beating heart-

Just as he's full of information from the flowers of Liyue to the deepest cracks in the soil, he loves fully and unapologetically

He's lived through many eras and seen so much that it's hard to not want to express how he feels as he feels it

Deeply appreciative of whatever his s/o does and does for him

He indulges in every word, touch, feeling, and look- He's not a greedy man, but when it comes to love? There's a deep desire to feel it all

There are many ways that Zhongli expresses that love, a few being through your daily strolls through Liyue Harbor and the daily and nightly rituals the two of you have settled down into

His favorite is probably the mornings

There's something about waking up wrapped up in your lover's arms, head resting on their chest as the sun's warm beams shine through the windows that's utterly satisfying

Zhongli indulges in these little moments, favoring them over all else

Once in a while, he'll take you back to where your first date was to reminisce, perhaps even (jokingly) mention little embarrassing things either of you did

Zhongli watches as you sip at your drink and admires the way the sun compliments your eyes. You're preoccupied by the falling leaves, it seems, mentioning how they're just as brilliant gold as his. Though the feeling he feels is far from the excitement of butterflies, it has settled into a comforting sort of warmth that hopes you feel as well.

Passionate:

Childe

This man's love is wild like his personality

Loud, fun, and never quite predictable, he loves like a whirlwind and with an enthusiasm to match no other

Lots of teasing going on here, to make you blush or to mess with you, you'll never know

But it's his unapologetic fire that drew you to him to begin with

When he's not occupied with work, he'll drag you to go sight seeing

Every experience is a new experience, no matter if it's something that seems so everyday or not

His affection is in the form of tightly held hands (he doesn't want to lose you with how quickly he weaves through the crowd), well-placed winks, and kisses to steal your breath away

He also loves in a way that's fiercely protective. His job is a dangerous one and, with the way he's open with your relationship, his affection serves to protect you

But don't forget that despite his passion, he's a man who deeply treasures those close to him and, as his s/o, you'll be showered with only the best he can give you

It was only a quick break in your day, he'd assured, but it quickly became another round of seeing Liyue through his eyes. In the span of only an hour, you've already spotted an untouched patch of glaze lilies, sampled rich Li-style cuisine and fresh Yue-style cuisine, helped a young girl fetch her kite from atop a tree, and now are working your way (or rather, Childe is working your way for you) to a little area behind the busy streets to show you a pack of dogs he'd befriended. Fondly, you smile and watch as he beckons them out of hiding.

Diluc

Diluc lives for the way that his s/o brings the best out of him and, in return, he does the same back

He exudes the air of a gentleman with the way he shows his affection, but, whether intentionally or not, in an utterly enticing way

Being busy during the day with running the tavern and the winery as well as at night as the Darknight Hero (he insists you stop calling him that as well, but you don't miss the light flush of pride each time), the time he dedicates to you is left in the early morning long before you leave for the day and the evening as he settles just before he sets off

During morning time, he's often fond of running his hands over you, feeling each dip and curve, memorizing the way your hair falls and the way your lips curve when you smile

It's a quiet sort of passion

His love is expressed in the fond murmurs against your shoulder and head, sharing those moments of deep intimacy both physical and not

In the evenings, you both settle in front of the fireplace, sharing a drink or two

There's sometimes a certain look in his eye that sets your heart aflame in the dimly lit room, and sometimes he sets off a little later that night in lieu of a few more stolen moments with you

Diluc slides into your shared bed in the early hours of the morning, a bit later than usual. The shift stirs you just enough to wake up to two arms pulling you to his chest and a deep breath with his nose buried in your hair. He's no doubt exhausted. Eyes bleary, you turn until you're facing him and loosely wrap an arm around his waist. In the moments you're still half-awake, you hear a low murmur of 'love you' and you smile against his skin.

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andypantsx3 · 3 years

Note

shoto and 'when i find out who is responsible for this...' IM A SUCKER FOR OVERPROTECTIVE SHO LMAO

This one was one of my faves to write, I really hope you like it!

Damage | Todoroki/Reader

Prompt: “When I find out who is responsible for this...” Word Count: 1600 words Tags/Warnings: SFW, ye olde quirk accident trope Notes: Special thanks again to my lady love @bobawithpomegranate for beta-ing me!! Also, for anyone who hasn’t suffered a corporate job: KPIs = key performance indicators, which are a set of business metrics used to measure success in certain areas.

The first sign that something was wrong should have been in line for security.

Ayako—your favorite member of the Todoroki Agency security team—was waving a detector wand over your clothes when she asked casually, “How’s it going?”

Any other morning, your response was something along the lines of, “Oh, it’s going. How are you?” This morning, however, you blurted, “Good! Except that I bumped someone on the train and spent ten minutes trying to get a coffee stain out of this shirt, and I feel a little sick when I think about leading the KPIs review because Shouto’s property damage numbers are up again which doesn’t look great, so I skipped breakfast but honestly I’m super hungry right now, that was a bad choice, and—”

You cut yourself off, utterly bewildered. Ayako looked similarly nonplussed, raising a slim brow.

“Uh, nevermind. I’ll just be going,” you said, and hared off to the rest of the security checkpoints before she could give commentary.

So you might have known that something was wrong even before you let yourself into Shouto’s manager’s office, armed with your monthly spreadsheets and performance slide decks. But you hadn’t given it more thought since then, a move which proved to be a complete mistake.

Shouto was already there, lounging in the set of chairs in front of his manager’s desk, looking less like a hero waiting for a meeting and more like some airbrushed ad for his dark turtleneck or his close-fit grey slacks. Your heart shot into your throat at the sight of him, like it usually did, and you had to remind yourself to relax.

Though he was unbearably handsome to the point of distraction, Shouto was relatively easy to get along with, something that should have made you calmer in his presence. He was straightforward, possessed of very little ego, thoughtful, and a very linear and strategic thinker—you’d worked extremely well with him the past couple of years, and Shouto, though he had less to do with the daily operations of the agency, had helped push your promotion last year to Director of Public Relations. It should have added up to an easy and uncomplicated work partnership, but his personality only made your unfortunate crush on him even worse.

He was so horribly, horribly perfect. And you were an awful little metrics gremlin, called in to roast him over the open flame of public opinion once a month. Really not something Shouto might be interested in.

“Y/N,” he said, looking up from his phone and fixing you with an intent look. Your heart stuttered under those heterochromatic eyes.

“Hi, Shouto,” you said, setting down your bag and digging out your laptop for something to take your attention off of him. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” he answered in his deep tone. “How are you?”

And that was it. The damning question that sent it all to hell.

“My heart feels like it could explode any second, and I feel kind of faint, weirdly weak, and incredibly distracted,” you answered, naming the symptoms of his very presence.

There was a beat of silence. You froze, crouched over your bag, laptop halfway out of it. Then it hit you what had just been said, and you slapped a hand over your mouth in horror.

Shouto was up out of his chair in the blink of an eye, kneeling in front of you with cool fingers on your face, angling it towards him.

“You’re not well?” he asked, those eyes locking on you with an alarming intensity.

His attention only made things worse. “I feel like I might pass out,” you said, cringing even as the words left your mouth.

Fuck, what the hell were you saying? You were making it sound like you were some Victorian maiden, ready to swoon in the mere company of a gentleman. And why were you saying this shit? You’d worked with him for years and you’d never let slip the effect he had on you—what was wrong with you this morning?

You thought back to the coffee incident on the train this morning, the way the girl whose drink you had spilled had startled, the way she had weirdly apologized to you even as you were in the midst of your own apology.

A sense of foreboding settled over you.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

“I think I’ve been hit with a quirk,” you blabbed.

Shouto’s features shuttered, a hard look you’d never really seen before entering his eye. He went over to his manager’s desk, dialing a number on her office phone, and then he was talking in low tones, asking someone from medical to come up to her office immediately.

Then he was back at your side, easing you carefully to the floor like you actually were in danger of passing out, and not just a huge idiot with an incredibly fat crush that made you say the world’s most ridiculous things.

“When I find out who’s responsible for this,” he uttered, low and dangerous, “they might never be able to use a quirk again.”

For some reason, the threat warmed you, even as it sent a little shiver down your spine. Was it weird to find him hot when he was angry?

You clamped your mouth firmly shut, lest you tell him exactly what illness prevailed you, but your silence was all for naught.

Because when one of the medical staff made it up to the office, pressing a quirk testing strip to your skin, she pronounced, “A truth quirk.”

Shouto caught your hand before it could smack into your forehead, looking surprised that he had done so. And then even more surprised at the pronouncement.

“A truth quirk,” he echoed, looking down at you curiously. His fingers were gentle where they held your wrist.

You squirmed uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

“But then, you’re still not well,” he said. He looked up at the medical staffer. “She’s feeling faint, and having problems with her heart.”

“She’s fine,” the staffer confirmed, holding up a scanner with your vital readings. They were embarrassingly perfect—incredibly, perfectly, damnably normal.

You could have died. You literally could have died.

Shouto looked down at you with a little wrinkle on his perfect brow, obviously wondering how you could admit symptoms like that given a truth quirk, only for there to be no physical sign of them. You tried to hold down the truth, but another question from him doomed you.

“But how?” he asked, clearly concerned, cool fingers smoothing over your cheekbone.

“I have an insanely huge crush on you,” you blurted. Then you unleashed a string of colorful swears, flushing so hot you thought you might catch fire.

Those heterochromatic eyes went a little round at the edges.

The medical staffer looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh as she bade a quick farewell. She was out the door before you could catch her sleeve and hold her like a shield against Shouto’s incredibly penetrating stare.

“I’m. Um. You know, sorry and everything,” you added. “I won’t let it interfere with work. I mean, I haven’t, any of the past couple years—fuck, oh my god, I just said that—”

Shouto was watching your mouth like he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of it.

“Say it again,” he said.

You paused, staring at him. “What?”

“Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“My heart feels like it could explode any second, and I feel kind of faint, weirdly weak, and incredibly distracted,” you answered obediently.

“Because of me,” he said, like it was a wonder.

You gave him an annoyed look. Obviously because of him, who the fuck else did he think wielded that combination of attractiveness and straightforward appeal like an S-class quirk of its own?

Shouto choked on a laugh, and you realized with some horror that you’d said all of that out loud.

Damn the fucking truth quirk.

“I don’t know,” Shouto said, sounding amused. “I think I rather like it. When I find out who is responsible for this, I might have to thank them instead.”

This stopped you short.

He what now?

“I’m sorry, what?”

Something a little like a smirk curled the corner of Shouto’s mouth. “It is generally gratifying to know one’s feelings are returned, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I wouldn’t know—” you started, feeling annoyed with him again. Then you choked when the implication of his words sank in.

Shouto’s fingers slid down to cup your chin, and suddenly it felt like every nerve ending in your body was concentrated there, the touch magnified a thousand-fold into an all-consuming sensation.

“Would you like me to kiss you?” he asked lightly, looking smug.

“Oh my god yes—” The answer was out of your mouth before he’d even finished the question.

Shouto laughed, and then he was leaning in. You could feel the smile still on his mouth when it met yours. Shouto’s kiss was careful and attentive, but you could sense something deeper beneath, the same kind of restrained sort of passion that underlaid his quirk. Having that kind of controlled intensity turned on you was something you could have never prepared for.

The kiss became deeper and more heated, and Shouto was just easing you backwards again, still pressed firmly to you, when the door opened and his manager blew in.

“This is a fucking office,” she said, stepping over the two of you like you were a grimy puddle in the street. “Now hurry the fuck up, we have KPIs to review. Shouto—don’t think this will derail me from your property damage numbers increasing.”

Shouto huffed into your mouth, slumping against you.

You couldn’t do anything but laugh.

Current event masterlist in pinned!

#todoroki shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha #garbage fest 2021 #garbage fest fics

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sergiovinazzi · 3 years

Text

Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Two)

2.9k words, rated E for everyone :)

Lando’s voice, amplified by the TV speakers, echoes around the humming Red Bull garage. “I’m fine but I’ve been better. I can say that I’m not in perfect condition, I’m not gonna lie. Some work to do mentally of course. I talk about that a lot, and mental health and mental strength is very important. I’ve not been sleeping that great and so on… not ideal and I’m feeling a bit sore, but I’m not the guy in the worst position after Wembley. I’ll work on it, I’ll make sure I’m in the best shape possible, and I feel like I can still go out and focus on what I need to do, and that’s the main thing.”

Your mind races as you listen to the boy plastered across the many screens revisit his experience at Wembley. He sounds awful; something about his cadence making it even more obvious that he is really, truly shaken up. The wavering pitch, awkward pausing, fumbling for words; everything about the way he presents himself is serving as a brutal reminder that being physically unscathed is no indicator that harm was not dealt. Even as the interview moves past the topic of last week’s Euro Final, you notice the shift in demeanor and your heart aches. You worry that bringing the watch to him is a bad idea, that it could prompt unbidden memories and disquieting feelings. You understand how big of an event Silverstone is from your dad’s tangents alone, especially for an English team with an English driver, so you reevaluate whether your decision to come was selfish, one made solely to alleviate your own sentiments of guilt rather than to verily right your believed wrongdoings.

On the journey to Silverstone, your dad had made multiple attempts at lessening your stress, even opting for variations of the if he steps out of line I will put him right back in his place father speech. Unfortunately fruitless, your father’s attempts mean you remain just as anxious as when you had first discovered that you managed to obtain a stolen wristwatch.

You’re not sure whether it’s the crisp morning air or your nerves that sends chills across your flesh, but your attempt to ground yourself subtly doesn’t go unnoticed by your dad as he passes you in the garage.

“Time is ticking,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips. “No pun intended.”

You roll your eyes in an attempt to downplay your apprehension, but your voice gives away any and all signs of the false confidence you hope to portray. “Can you do it for me?” you plead.

“I can’t just stroll on over to the McLaren garage without an invitation or proper reason, especially not a couple hours before free practice starts. It doesn’t look good.”

“It’s not like me walking in there instead would look any better,” you retort, gesturing to the Red Bull logo plastered across the chest of your black polo. “Your branding isn’t what I would call subtle.”

“Look, the McLaren team are a good sort. They’ll help you out if you just explain the issue and show them the watch. I’m sure Lando will understand too, he seems like a pretty nice bloke,” your dad reassures you.

Sighing, your eyes meet the floor, fingers intertwined with each other as you fidget incessantly. Before you can speak up in further defiance, however, an additional set of footsteps grow nearer and you freeze at the voice which speaks up.

“Christian, how much longer until our media slot?”

You lose your breath momentarily, locking your gaze onto your shoes as you wait for the person to pass by.

“About five minutes, Max,” your dad replies. “We were just about to head over.”

When you hear the footsteps grow fainter, you risk looking up, thankfully being met with only the observance of your father. You don’t even realize that you’ve tensed your body until your dad points it out.

“Relax,” he says. “He’s not going to say anything here, especially not on a race weekend.”

Nodding, you feel your shoulders ease up but you remain quiet.

“Anyways, like I said, our media briefing and interviews start soon and we’re after McLaren this weekend so they should already be back in their garage,” he says, realizing that you still appear troubled by the task ahead of you. “I promise you, everything will be fine. Just go over there and I’ll meet you back here when we’re done. The quicker you head over, the quicker you’re done with it and we can all move on." With that, your dad walks away and you reluctantly leave the Red Bull garage, adjusting your shirt as you straighten up.

You take a brief glance at your phone, turning it off after you try one last time to keep the picture of the boy imprinted in your mind. Eyes darting rapidly, you attempt to scan the paddock for anyone looking remotely like him while you make your way towards the bright orange and blue indicators of the McLaren garage.

The frequency of orange-clad individuals grows the further you stray from the safety of Red Bull’s garage, and you feel your heartbeat begin to increase. Worried that someone would stop you before you could approach the one person you had traveled all the way to Silverstone for in the first place, you quicken your pace.

You’re mere meters away when you spot him. Pushing past a few people while trying to keep your eyes trained on him, you watch as he turns around to talk briefly with the woman next to him.

Huffing, you muster up the little confidence you have and tap him on the shoulder.

His confusion is evident and the blonde woman next to him does not look pleased to have been interrupted. The silence is palpable as they stare at you, expecting an explanation for the abrupt ending of their conversation.

“Hi,” is all you can deliver. You’re at a loss for words while the woman next to him seems to lose what little patience she has with you. Everything you had rehearsed beforehand, gone. Your mind is foggy and your mouth feels dry as you try to compose yourself. “Um, can I talk to you for a second? It won’t be long, I promise.” Your voice breaks at the end and you wish you had never agreed to get on that stupid red-eye to Silverstone in the first place.

Lando offers a look of sympathy and then turns to the woman next to him. “Charlotte, could you just give us a second?”

Pursing her lips and turning on her heel, the woman walks away, heading towards the mouth of the McLaren garage. She’s far enough away that you’re out of earshot, but close enough that you feel her gaze linger as Lando turns back to face you.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he tells you with a smile. “We can take a picture if you want or I can sign some stuff for you.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, mentally slapping your palm against your forehead and forcing yourself to get a grip. Idiot. “Fuck, sorry, that sounded so rude! It’s just-” you rush to explain.

“Oh no, it’s okay!” he stammers. “I should’ve guessed from the Red Bull shirt anway.”

You both share an awkward laugh before you compose yourself and reach a shaky hand into your bag.

“This is going to sound so weird, but I was online shopping for a new watch the other day because I lost mine, and I’m pretty sure I bought the one that was stolen from you. I didn’t know anything about it, I swear. I just...well, here,” you say, offering the watch and its temporary box to Lando.

He looks at you, taking the box only to go wide-eyed at the contents inside.

“I have all the information that I was able to get, but the ad was taken off of eBay and I really wanted to do the right thing and give it back to you. Please don’t be mad.”

“What the hell?!” he exclaims, earning a few looks from people passing by and catching Charlotte’s attention once more. “Sorry, sorry. How did you get this?”

Amused, you laugh quietly while he studies the watch intently. “That was my dad’s reaction too. Basically there was a listing for it on eBay and it was sort of an impulse buy,” you explain. “I didn’t see the news coverage of what happened until afterwards and I felt awful. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, I genuinely had no idea.”

Shrugging, he plays it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.” It’s hard to miss his sudden change in attitude from the interview you watched moments ago and you can’t help but wonder whether he has your or the watch’s presence to thank.

There is a brief moment of silence between you both before he continues. “How much did you pay for it?”

“It was so cheap, honestly,” you say. “Nothing compared to the original price, I’m sure.”

Charlotte, alerted by Lando’s attention-grabbing reaction to being reunited by his watch, returns to where the two of you are standing. “Oh wow, did you find a replacement watch for him?” she asks you, clearly impressed by the apparent likeness.

“No, Charlotte”, he corrects her. “It’s my one. Look.” He hands the watch to his PR manager, who receives it so gently you think she’s afraid it might shatter in her hands. Flipping the watch between her fingers, she studies the small engraving on the underside of the face.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

Lando nods. “It’s the exact date it was given to me, there’s no way anyone else could know that and make a copy of it.”

You feel the need to justify yourself to her. “It was listed online and I bought it before I knew anything about the situation. I didn’t even really know who Lando was until I saw what happened on the news, I swear.” You anticipate her anger or disapproval, preparing yourself to withstand the lecture you’re about to receive and mentally promising that, as soon as it’s over, you can run back to your dad and tell him you just want to go home.

But it doesn’t come.

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaims. “We all thought we’d never see it again and you found it on accident.” The smile she gives you sets your mind at ease. “Technically, this is a police matter now, so I’ll have to hand it over to the right people, but this helps us tremendously. Did you get any information about the seller?”

You explain the situation to her, about how the listing was taken offline but you have a printout of the messages and address the seller gave you, which you hand her from your bag. She lets you know that someone may get in touch soon to ask questions but not to worry, that it’s only a formality. Eventually, she asks if you’d like to watch free practice from a spot in the mobile hospitality unit, but you politely decline, explaining that you needed to get back to your dad in the Red Bull garage instead.

Charlotte smiles fondly at Lando and presses the brim of his cap down over his eyes. “Come on, you, we have to go and get ready now anyway.”

He takes off his hat, cheeks flushing as he makes an effort to quickly brush the curls lining his forehead, placing it back on and dismissing Charlotte with a wave of his hand. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

Once the two of you are alone, he pulls out his phone. “Do you have Venmo? I’ll pay you back, it’s not fair that you had to waste your money.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.”

Lando seems unconvinced. “It’s really not a problem.”

“Seriously, it’s all good.”

“Well,” he continues awkwardly. “I have to go, but are you here for the whole weekend or...?”

You shake your head. “Just today. I’m not into Formula 1, I find it a little bit boring.”

“Seriously?! The fastest cars in the world and you’re calling it boring? Why even come to something like Silverstone if it’s so boring?” he feigns offense, doing air quotes as he imitates your apparent disdain for the sport.

Laughing quietly, you shrug. “I have family at Red Bull, so it was basically just luck and convenience that you were in the U.K. this weekend,” you clarify. “I don’t really understand Formula 1, that’s all.”

“Fair enough, it’s not for everyone I suppose,” Lando replies. “So who in your family works at Red–” The end of his question is drowned out by the sound of his name called by an evidently disgruntled, impatient engineer.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, I’ve really gotta go, but, um,” he exhales with a nervous laugh. “I still feel like I need to repay you in some way. Do you want to go get a drink after the race on Sunday? I’m busy for the next few days but Sunday night I’ll be free. Only if you want to, of course, I don’t want to, like, pressure you or anything.”

You laugh, appreciative that the nervousness was shared. “That– Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll give you my number.”

He types your details into his phone before apologizing once more, thanking you again, and rushing off into the garage.

——

On Sunday, you let your dad believe he’s the one who convinced you to stay for the entire race weekend, but it’s the promise of Lando’s company later that night and the endearing text messages on your phone that prompts the desire to see this weekend through. You had spent the previous nights on your phone, going through driver and team Instagram accounts, as well as the F1 website, to get an idea of what to expect. Typically, it would pain you to look through motorsport news pages, especially with so many of the reports centering around Max and his vie for the championship as of late, but you manage.

You notice almost immediately while settling into your spot at the back of the garage that the energy does not match your own. You are enthusiastic and eager, while the rest of the team is stressed and rushes around you. Presumably, it’s because race day impacts their livelihoods and paycheks whereas it only dictates your family’s dinner topics, but, nevertheless, your excitement refuses to simmer.

Unfortunately, if it was weird for you to be seen at the McLaren garage before the first free practice, it would be infinitely more suspicious for you to be lingering around on race day, so you were not able to catch Lando at all since your initial meeting on Friday. However, you made sure to message him good luck beforehand, to which he thanked you and expressed excitement for your upcoming night.

“If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be on the pitwall,” your dad says, snapping you out of your whirring mind. He notices your obscure behavior, quick to comment on it. “Is it weird? Being here after so long?”

You nod, shrugging. “Unusual, for sure. So much has changed since the last time I came and watched, but I’m excited, though.”

“Well, it’s always good to have you here.”

Reciprocating your dad’s grin, you silently send him on his way. He exits quickly and leaves you to your own devices. Though, your own devices look to consist of impatiently waiting for the race to start and scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Ironically, your boredom with pre-race antics appears to create quite the dichotomy against the chaos exuding from the garage you find yourself encompassed in.

Regardless, your attention is regained when frequent cuts are made to the drivers in their cars, and you recognise that the race will be starting soon. You are temporarily startled when the cars begin moving without hearing an official announcement, but quickly realisee that it is merely a formation lap and no one else around you seems to be paying all too much mind to it.

When the cars return to their positions on the grid, you watch eagerly as the lights flash and the announcers begin yelling. You keep your eyes trained on the orange car towards the front of the grid, watching Lando so intently that you almost miss what happens to the cars in front of him.

Your eyes go wide as you watch the events unfold: the Red Bull car out front collides with what you identify as a Mercedes, spinning and slamming into the barrier. Gasps chorus across the garage as the screens replay slowed clips of the crash as an announcement states that the safety car has been deployed. They replay it from every conceivable angle, your astonishment at the severity is present upon your first viewing, but it’s only after the sixth clip that it clicks in your head that the person in the car is Max.

“For the second time this season, Hamilton and Verstappen clash and tangle on the opening lap, but, this time, it is ending in dramatic consequences for the championship leader.”

If you had perceived the pre-race behavior in the garage as chaotic, this was a whole new level of absurdity.

People rush around you while orders are shouted and frustrations are verbalised.

Your dad is angry.

The last time you recall him behaving like this was when your younger sister had broken the wine glasses he had bought for your mother on their honeymoon. You, however, ignore his yelling and remain encapsulated by the TV, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the events unfolding finally, finally register in your brain.

Car number 33 is in the wall and out of the race, and your ex-boyfriend is inside, silent and unmoving.

____________

tag list @lovebynorth @its-astrotea-love

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starlingflight · 3 years

Text

The Way Ahead

A/N: Asked @floreatcastellumposts to give me a prompt to get me out of my writer’s block (If anyone else wants to send me a prompt, then please do!). She gave me ‘McGonagall finds out that Harry is an Auror’ and this was the result:

Minerva sighed as she fell heavily into the chair behind her new desk. Her bones ached from weariness; she took a sip of her tea in order to suppress the yawn threatening to escape her. There was no time for rest.

The parchment in front of her was so long the end of it snaked off the edge of the desk and trailed onto the rich carpet, the list of chores upon it stretching across the office.

Minerva took her quill and began searching down the list, ticking off items which had been dealt with. Hagrid had managed to secure the Thestral herd this morning. Minerva tried not to think about how much longer that particular task may have taken if not for the increased number of volunteers who could now see the winged horses roaming the battle-scarred grounds of Hogwarts.

She scratched her quill across the parchment, and scanned down the rest of the never ending list. The repairs of the castle were taking longer than expected, due in part, to the ancient magic holding much of the structure up. And creating a definitive list of which students would and would not be returning in the Autumn was proving rather difficult. Nobody, it appeared, was quite ready to think about the future just three short weeks after the fall of Voldemort.

“I’m getting too old for this,” Minerva whispered, lifting her cup to take another sip.

“Nonsense,” came a voice from behind her. Minerva jumped slightly, having forgotten once again that her new office came with an audience. “I should think there's still a few decades in you yet.”

She did not bother responding to Albus’ remark, his portrait, it seemed, would be just as taxing as the man himself had been.

Never mind that his tenure of the school had not started with the most devastating battle Hogwarts had seen in its long history, never mind that she would have to oversee a cohort of students who would be unable to walk the corridors without replaying scenes from said battle, never mind that a vast number of them were dealing with the loss of loved ones to Voldemort's tyranny.

Minerva was pulled from her morose thoughts by a soft knock on the door. She bit back another sigh, mentally steeling herself for the next in a long line of problems she was sure was about to walk through her door.

“Enter.”

The door opened slowly, almost tentatively, and a shock of untidy black hair appeared around it.

“Good evening, Professor,” Harry Potter said politely. “Do you have a moment for me and Neville?”

Minerva pressed her lips together, attempting to hold back a smile. She doubted there was a single witch or wizard in the country that couldn’t spare a minute for Harry these days.

“Come in,” she said at once, gesturing to the two chairs in front of the desk as Harry and Neville entered her office.

It had only been a week since she'd seen the pair of them last at Remus and Nymphadora’s funeral. Neither of them looked any better than they had then. Both of them had dark circles under their eyes as though they’d had trouble sleeping and a staid expression upon their faces which would look out of place on most teenagers.

It was not their expressions, however, that caught Minerva’s attention, but the matching robes which the two young men were wearing, scarlet with gold fringe and the Ministry crest embossed upon their chests.

“Am I to assume you’ve come to tell me you won’t be returning to school in September?” Minerva asked, directing a cup of tea to each of them with her wand.

“We’ve joined the Aurors,” Neville said, though it was rather unnecessary given his attire. “We wanted to come and tell you ourselves.”

There was a hint of uncertainty in Neville’s voice, his lip trembled slightly and Minerva was forcefully reminded of the young boy who had tripped on his way up to the sorting hat many years ago.

“Kingsley asked us,” Harry added. “He said it didn’t matter about our N.E.W.Ts because we have real world experience.”

Harry did not look uncertain in the way that Neville had. Minerva could not remember the last time Harry had looked unsure of himself, though she was sure it had been years ago at this point.

“A characteristically wise decision by our new Minister for Magic,” Minerva said honestly. “I, for one, will rest easier knowing the Auror department is being replenished with such worthy young men.”

Neville spluttered slightly on the tea he’d been sipping. He lowered his cup to reveal his face had turned the same colour as his robes. Harry frowned down at his shoes, his expression not unlike the one he wore in her class when dealing with a particularly difficult transfiguration problem.

“Gran’s quite pleased,” Neville said once he’d regained his composure. “She said my mum and dad would be proud.”

A lump suddenly rose in Minerva’s throat, her hand trembled slightly where it gripped the delicate, china cup. Her thoughts were cast back almost eighteen years.

It was an unbearably stifling summer day, the muggy sort of weather which made Minerva want to do little more than retreat to her office with her books and a well-aimed cooling charm. Today, however, she had other plans.

She knocked softly on the door of the remote house the Longbottom’s called home. Only a moment later, the door was opened by a beaming Frank, he gestured for Minerva to enter with an excited hand, pulling her into a hug the moment she stepped over the threshold.

In the tiny sitting room she found Alice, looking tired but perfectly at peace with the tiny pink bundle clutched tightly to her chest.

“Neville,” She said softly. “Meet Minerva, one day she’s going to be your head of house.”

Minerva moved closer, reaching out a finger to stroke Neville’s soft cheek. “He’s beautiful,” she breathed.

Alice held the baby out to her and Minerva gladly took him, cradling him close and rocking him slightly. His little eyelids fluttered for a moment as he passed over but Neville did little more than yawn before closing them again.

“He’s going to make a brilliant Auror one day,” Frank said, resting a loving hand on Alice’s shoulder.

“No,” Alice said sharply, her expression suddenly turning stern. “He’s going to live a life of peace. He’ll be a magizoologist or a teacher, something good.”

“Well,” Minerva said matter-of-factly. “I think it’s a safe bet he’ll be a Gryffindor and it will be my responsibility to help him figure out the rest.”

Alice and Frank both smiled at this, looking adoringly at their brand new son. “There’s no one we’d trust more than you, Minerva,” Alice said.

“Of course, it’s quite a lot of work,” Neville said, pulling Minerva from her reverie. “Lots of exams and training exercises, but the job’s not done yet, is it?”

Minerva felt her eyebrows rise at this. “And which job might that be?”

“The Death Eaters,” said Harry harshly. “We haven’t got them all yet.”

“Some would say you’ve done quite enough,” Minerva said gently. “That you’ve earned a break.”

Harry shook his head firmly, finally lifting his gaze from the floor to meet Minerva’s. “I don’t need a break.”

He had always looked so much like James, but at that moment, the spark of determination in his green eyes reminded her unequivocally of Lily.

The clouds had broken overnight. Thunder and lightning had rent the air; rain had pelted loudly upon the lead-lined windows of Hogwarts and another new life had been brought into the world.

Minerva had waited until late afternoon to visit the Potter’s cottage, knowing that Black, Lupin and Pettigrew would be anxious to get there first and wanting to give the new family a small amount of breathing room.

Her fist had barely left the door before it flew open, revealing James Potter. His hair was untidier than she had ever seen it and there was a look of wild joy on his eyes. He picked Minerva up and spun her into the cottage, laughing joyfully as he did so.

“He’s perfect,” he said. “Looks just like me, he’s going to be a total heartbreaker!”

“Put me down, Potter!” Minerva cried, trying to sound stern but unable to contain a light chuckle at his antics.

“Come and see him!” James said, taking Minerva’s arm and pulling her up the stairs until they reached a nursery, painted sky blue and decorated with snitches and quaffles which fluttered around the walls.

Lily sat in a rocking chair by the window, she looked just as exhausted as Alice had yesterday though it was hard to tell given how serenely she was gazing down at the baby in her arms.

“We’ve named him Harry,” James said, his tone finally softening in the presence of his newborn son.

“A lovely name,” Minerva said, leaning over Lily’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of unruly dark hair, so like James’.

“He’s ever so well behaved,” Lily said proudly. “He’s slept most of the day so far.”

“Don’t worry,” James added quickly. “I’ll teach him how to get into mischief before he gets to you, Minerva.”

“That, I don’t doubt,” Minerva agreed.

“He won’t,” Lilly said. “He’s going to be a good boy. No trouble for this little one.”

Minerva and James exchanged sceptical looks, but neither dared argue with Lily who had a glint in her eye which Minerva had learned not to disagree with.

“You’ll be so good, Harry,” Lily said solemnly, staring down at the baby and giving the impression she’d forgotten there was anyone else in the room. “And so loved.”

That same glint shone in Harry’s eyes now, as he looked steadily at Minerva.

“It looks as though the Aurors have gained two superb new additions,” Minerva said evenly. Though her heart felt heavy in her chest. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed not to have you back next year.”

“You’ll see us around,” Neville said cheerfully, placing his cup back on the desk. “I’m sure Harry will be trailing after Ginny every weekend.”

Neville jumped slightly as Harry swung out a foot and kicked him in the shin.

Minerva placed her cup to her lips in order to hide her smile. “I will remind you that I have rules about non-students visiting the grounds, Mr Potter,” she said sternly.

“Of course, Professor,” Harry agreed, a flush working its way across his cheeks.

Harry placed his empty cup on the desk and Neville stretched as he stood. “Best be off,” he said. “Early start in the morning, we just wanted to pop in and give you the news.”

They both stood, quickly saying their goodbyes to Minerva as they moved towards the door.

She took them in their new scarlet robes and wondered, not for the first time, if this was what Alice, Frank, Lily and James would've wanted.

That they would've been proud of their sons, Minerva had no doubts whatsoever. That they would be pleased with the role she had played in their growing up, she could not be so sure.

She had been the one to declare that she would make Harry an Auror if it was the last thing she did but, like so many things recently, this did not feel like victory.

"Take care of yourselves," Minerva said as Neville reached for the doorknob.

He turned back and grinned at her. Harry gave her a small smile too. "Don't we always?" Neville asked.

#harry potter #neville longbottom #minerva mcgonagall #hp fanfic

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riverisnotsafe · 3 years

Text

Mine.

PAIRING: F!Servant!Reader x Naoya Zenin

WARNINGS: NAOYA ZENIN. Naoya smut. NSFW, Minors DNI. | If you're into any of these: possessive Naoya, breeding kink (?), mentions of overstimulation, jealous Naoya.

A/N: You can call me Noct or River. I’m still fairly new to how tumblr works and how writers and bloggers (?) write their imagines/fics so I do apologize in advance if my writing is not to your liking. I will also post on AO3 under sunflowerpsycho. I'm still trying to improve^^ This was self-indulgent and not edited so pretty all over the place and might be unclear in some parts, sorry bout that.

The reader lowkey a pick me but depends on how you view her, either she's a pick me or she just acts the way she acts to accustom and stroke the lil bitches ego.

“A-ah! Naoya-sama!” you moan his name as he shoots his load deep in you. A few moments of bliss and you were ready to clean yourself. Naoya never liked staying in bed long after sex. He finds it disgusting. All the fluids of sweat, semen and love juices mixed together made his skin crawl. “Oi woman, where are you going?” You haven’t even gotten up but Naoya had you strongly wrapped in his embrace. His cock still deep within you, as if acting as a plug. “I’m gonna wash myself..? You don’t like being dirty like this...usually?” the last bit came out as a question when Naoya buried his head deep into the crevice of your neck. “Ah, I’ll let it pass today. Just stay here. My cum is gonna leak out if you move.” he tried to shove himself deeper, earning an unexpected moan from you. “L-leak out???” Does Naoya have a breeding kink? Is he trying to keep his cum in you???? “N-naoya-sama...are you trying to breed me?” at the mention of breed, you could feel his dick twitch in your core. “Shut up woman.” Ah...so he is and he’s embarrassed to admit. “I feel honoured if that’s what you’re trying to do...” another twitch.

Under that tough misogynistic act, this man is just a boy who thrives on praise, he probably was deprived of any in his childhood, hence the superiority complex. But with you, he’s quite honest. The body doesn’t lie. You were just another servant. He probably paid and slept with many so you never thought of it as anything special. Besides, after all of this dirty work, both of you end up going your separate ways. A servant and the young master. That’s all it is. That is until one of the maids tried stealing from the family, unfortunately from Naoya and he didn’t take it too lightly. A woman and a thief, absolutely the worst. Ever since that, he appointed you as his personal maid, to ensure that only one person will serve him. Only one will enter and exit his quarters. Only one will serve his meals. Only one will tend to him. Only one will follow him around the house. Only one will keep him company when needed. Why did he choose you? Honestly you had no idea. Out of all the servants, clearly you were the least appealing, especially for a man of Naoya’s caliber.

You could never rival the looks of any of the other girls. You were chubby. Your thighs a bit too thick. Your cheeks were puffy. You had no thigh gap. Curves? Well, they weren’t hour-glass curves so you were bedrock bottom ranked. And when it came to family, you were a nobody. All the other servants have been serving the Zenin clan for generations. You were just a nobody who was pulled into the servant life to pay off your parent’s debt. What luck. It took him time though, to make you tend to him sexually. He might have a big ego and any woman would sleep with him but deep down he knew it was only for money and his looks, which he prided on. The sex was always bland. He could care less about the women’s pleasures, he would ejaculate outside, toss them money and demand them to immediately leave. He found them disgusting. Weren’t you just the same?

He had a great face, an even better body and all the riches you could’ve dreamt of, so why has he not tossed you out yet. He for sure can suspect that you’re just the same as all those women, plus, you were even lower, a nobody. Yet, here he is, deep inside you. This has been..about the sixth time you and Naoya have had intercourse. The first three times was when you were just a normal servant. Coincidentally he always found you and forced you to pleasure him. The pay was good so you never complained. After becoming his personal maid, it took a few months to make you fulfil his sexual needs, which is rather strange. A man like knows nothing of consent. He’s a tyrant. What he wants, he can get and he will. So why did he take months to make you fuck him when it was so easy before becoming his personal servant. Who knows? Maybe it was his underlying insecurities asking him to be sure.

“Naoya-sama...may I turn to look at you?” he grunts. “I’ll be sure to avoid any leakage” he nods. You slowly turn your body, still impaled on him. It was a different kind of pleasure but you withheld your moans. Your face are so close. This moment is intimate, for you and him. Almost unreal. He’s gorgeous. That red tint of blush and sex afterglow just added more to his beauty. “Naoya-sama. May I speak more than usual?” “Only because you asked for permission. Proceed.” he avoided looking into your eyes. A shy one. “I appreciate my master’s kindness. Thank you for allowing me to speak. Naoya-sama...please be honest with me. Are you trying to impregnate me? Why? I’m just a lowly servant. I could never be perfect to bear your children, or be a concubine. I have no value. You are too kind. We should stop. I will remove myself now. Thank you for your time master.” You slowly push yourself off him. He grabs your arm harshly, definitely bruising it.

“You said no leakage. And how dare you speak to your master so insolently? How dare you question what holds value to me or not. You are a lowly servant. You’re a filthy no-name bitch. You live to lick my shoes and pick up money I throw on the ground. You are not going anywhere. You are staying on this bed with me in you. You have to be reminded who your master is.” Oooh, you definitely pissed him off. You winced at his words. They were normal, he always told you where your place is so it wasn’t a surprise. “You stupid woman. Now it’s out. You moved and now it’s out.” he sounds disappointed. He was whining like a child. “Naoya-sama!” he plunged into you hard. “Yes, scream my name you stupid bitch.” He went faster and faster. “Don’t cum inside...I’m not worthy master” “Shut your mouth. Worthy? No woman is worthy of me. Selfish. All they care about are themselves. Such an inferior gender thinking what they know is worthy? I decide. I decide your worth.” He changed positions. He pressed both your legs close to your chest. A mating press. He was so deep. The squelching of his previous load acting as lubricant was erotic.

“You. Your lewd body. You were always trying to seduce me. Those luscious thighs. These fat breasts. You were made for child-bearing. The look you make when I fuck you. So in awe, eyes rolling back. Ah. Ah. Sometimes you even forgot payment because you rushed to clean yourself. You were the only memorable one. The sounds you make. You’re erotic. No one else can see or hear you except me. Mine. Mine. Mine.” Naoya drilled you senseless. So desperate to hear you. Desperate to look at your expressions. Desperate to conquer you. “N-naoya-sama! Ah! Ah! Naoya-sama!” You had practically lost any sense and all you could feel was his dick fucking you mercilessly. The veins. The length. The girth. He fit like a glove. He had shaped you to be accustomed to him. “When that no-name clan came yesterday for a meeting. I saw your look. You enjoyed how they all looked at you didn’t you? You slut. You’d want them to fuck you like this right? Only I can though. You smiled and served them. Desperate bitch.” The meeting yesterday?

Your mind wandered. Oh yes, a small clan that are partners with the Zenin in business. The heirs were quite good-looking and well-mannered, how could a lady not feel flattered. You can’t remember if you specifically smiled or enjoyed their small talk. Was being polite not a simple necessity a servant should have towards guests? To ensure their master was not seen as tardy. You can’t remember their names or faces. All you remember was Naoya slipping his hand under your garments and fingering you. “You enjoyed people watching right? Especially since they were good-looking. I WAS RIGHT THERE WITH YOU. Disgusting piece of shit.” He got even rougher. You don’t know how many times you’ve orgasmed and how many times Naoya had ejaculated in you but he was still at it. He’s jealous huh.. how strange. A man that could have anything and anyone in the world was strangely possessive of a worthless woman like you. “You can’t show them those expressions. Mine. Your kindness mine. Your sounds. Mine. You’re my servant.” he sounds sad.

Despite being in subspace, you unintentionally reach out to your master and cub his face. “Naoya-sama. I love you.” Those unintentional words made the malicious man slow down his pace. “What did you say?” Is he angry? Oof, all the best dealing with another tantrum. You couldn’t feel anything. Legs sore. Your mind had wandered. The pleasure had made you dumb yet the little consciousness you have for your master remained. “I love you, Naoya.” His cock twitched. “Again” “I love you.” “Again” “I love you, Naoya-sama”. All that repeating made you come to your senses. “I don’t remember the men from yesterday. All I remember were your thick fingers in me. My expressions and mewls were for you. If this body is what you want then I will offer it all to you, my master. Ask, you are my master after all. All of me is yours.” You get up a bit, and stagger, he fucked the life outta ya. “Master, allow me to speak.” a small dumbfounded nod. You slip a hand onto his cheek and kiss him. Both of you never shared a kiss.

It was too intimate for a servant to kiss their master. Only their betrothed would be worthy but you couldn’t help it, you needed to assure this man-child, you were no one else’s. “Master, I-“ “Naoya. When we’re alone call me Naoya.” a small smile crept onto your lips. “Naoya, breed me.” His face was flushed. That’s exactly what he wanted. Through the night, he fucked you in every inch of the room. Both of your fluids and smell, absolutely drenched his quarters. He never once ejaculated outside. Every drip of his semen was in your womb, he wouldn’t even pull out, in fear it would leak. Shower? He fucked you while showering too. His animalistic senses stopped when a knock on the door came.

“Lay down with your back arched. It can’t leak.” He put on a robe and answered. A woman’s voice. “Naoya-sama. Naobito-sama is calling for you.” “Tch. Annoying old man” he slams the door shut. “Oi. Arch even more.” He came back to you. “I’m going to put this in you so you don’t spill.” He was holding, A DILDO? This man has a dildo? “N-naoya-sama, t-thats...” “Some servant I had my way with some time ago left it to fuck with me. I kept it not knowing what it was but now the shape looks like it’d plug you up good.” A servant he had his ways with huh. You were just another one right. He seemed to have noticed your train of thought. “Stupid woman. That servant is long gone. And now. You’re mine. No other stupid bitch except you. Stop thinking nonsense. Maybe I’ll remind you a bit more. That old man can wait.” He unrobed and pounced you. You definitely can’t walk for a few days.

“I’ll plug you up and we’ll go see the old man” he sounds, quite joyful. “If you move and leak, I won’t hesitate to fill you up again.” Ah. He’s definitely Naoya Zenin. “Naoya-sama” you smile. “What? You should be grateful that I’ve allowed you to speak so many times since last night.” You can’t help but giggle. A slight blush forms on Naoya’s face. “How dare you laugh at m-“ you pull him in for a kiss. He reluctantly kissed back. “Naoya-sama, I love you.” you smiled. He thrusted into you without warning. “The old man can definitely wait. You filled with my child is more important.” God knows how many times he’d come in your womb without pulling out, there’s no way you’re not pregnant. “Naoya-sama...let’s stop here...I can’t walk properly if we continue, then a different servant will have to serve you.” He was about to argue but held his tongue. “Fine.” He pulled out and slowly shoved the dildo in. Looks like he’d rather have wobbly-legged you than another servant. You can't help but smile. “Go shower and meet me back here. And clean the room after meeting with the old man. The smell...erotic but dreadful. Wash everything.” “Yes my master.” You hurriedly got clothed and rushed to the servant quarters to clean up. You were happy. What a weirdo.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #naoya zenin #naoya zenin smut #naoya zenin x reader

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mzjmesa · 3 years

Text

Out Loud | Chloe Decker

She was a good detective. Is. The pride of the office, the officer praised here and there. Your partner. Your bestfriend. Detective Chloe Decker. It wasn't because of her smart, genius mind that attracted you to her, no. Well, sometimes, anyway. But it could've been alot of reasons, loving Chloe Decker. And you would've loved any other reasons— to make this easier, to make the feelings disappear sooner. Because whatever the attraction was, it was unprofessional— Chloe never did unprofessional. And you fear if you couldn't hold it any longer, she'd run away from you.

You can't bear that.

But you loved Chloe either way. You loved her eyes, her kindness, that bright and knowing smile that goes with her eyes, you loved the way her lips part when she's about to say something defensive— you loved her. You loved her the most when she knocks at your door and asks how you're doing. You loved the late night talks and laughs about freshmen days which was rare, because she never spent so much time in highschool, she got unending stories about it anyway. You loved the way she listens. You loved her. You loved Chloe Decker. And as she passes by your desk, to the man she likes, you reminded yourself that it was wrong. Wrong because you were supposed to be happy for her.

A knock on your desk drifted your thoughts away, Dan. “How are we doing?” he asked, if he'd caught you staring enviously at Chloe and Lucifer, he hadn't mind.

“How are we doing?” You repeated stupidly, still hungover from yesterday. Which by the way was Chloe's fault, you just wouldn't admit it to yourself.

Dan shrugs, “Yeah? I sent you files to look at, remember?”

Oh.

You shake your head as though it would help you focus on the present and tried to remember where you had placed the papers. You checked your drawers, trying hard to block out Chloe and Lucifer's voices. You busied your hand flipping through dozens of papers, vividly remembering the file's name.

Jonathan Flinn's. Ahh. Case closed for 2 months, there wasn't much evidence of the murder, but the majority linked to him, and eventually the court pronounced him guilty. There had been questions left unsolved, and if Espinoza wasn't up to anything, it would've been left at that.

You sighed, “Have you talked to Chloe about this?”

“Yeah,” He looked past your shoulder to where Chloe was, then back to you. “she thinks it's a bad idea.”

Of course she did. You did, too. That was a thing between you two, something about your guts always telling you the same what's what. That's why you were partnered with her, and you would've loved to continue being one (although truth be told, you still were in papers anyway) but she'd found a consultant, a batshit crazy one at that. Lucifer Morningstar. Always telling himself he's the devil, going on and about his everyday life like anyone gives a damn, and always making everything about himself. If he wasn't charming, and a ‘friend’ of Chloe's, you would've hated him. Most times you did. But times when Chloe was down, he was always the first to cheer her up. You used to be the one doing that, until he came.

“You should listen to her, Dan.”

“Oh c'mon! I would've agreed with Chloe and wouldn't have come to you if it weren't so important. His mother is my god—”

“—mother. Yes, yes, I know that, Dan. I know you think this is a good idea to pay her back, too. But it's not, trust me. Trust Chloe.” You exhaled, feeling the weight of her stare on your back. “It could go worst anyway, what when we can't find any evidence or if we do, worst case scenario is it'll only lead to him. Again. We'll just worsen his situation.”

Dan sighed, massaging his jaw with exasperation because he knew you were right. And also because as much as he pretends not to care too much, he does. You loved that about him.

As you heard footsteps behind, you handed back the files to Dan who hid it behind his back, masking his irritation with a smile to Chloe.

You ignored her, lingering your eyes on the missing button of Dan's shirt.

“Ella found some prints, we haven't identified it yet but it's likely our lead.” Chloe started just behind you, and you knew Lucifer was beside her as much as you hated it. “In the meantime, Dan? I'd like to discuss to you about the Flinn case, Lucifer and I went back to the crime scene yesterday. We found nothing.”

Dan frowned. “I thought you said it was a bad idea.”

“I know, I know. I... ugh... well I went over it again, anyway.”

A small smile creeped on his face, and you were almost sure his eyes were watering when Lucifer jumped on the conversation about his father, bla bla bla. You couldn't care less. Chloe did, and that should be enough for Lucifer. She'd always been enough for you. You bit your lips, wishing you could busy your hands with something. Anything. But your desk was on your back, and oh, Chloe, too.

It felt immature and all, but you were hurting just knowing they were together, seeing them would break you.

“I'll check in on with Ella.” Chloe announced, “(Y/N)?”

“Are you having a stroke Miss (L/N)? Staying still like a trained robot, you're scarying me— and believe when I say I rarely get scared.” Lucifer added.

Oh you believe alright. And robots are trained?! Trying to hide your feelings with a forced smile, you turned around, making sure you weren't going to make an eye contact with a certain detective, and immediately grabbed a random paper and pen you can hold— scribbling anything. Anything at all.

“I'm alright.” You answered after a beat or two, still unbothered to look. Who would want to, honestly.

Chloe cleared her throat, whispered something to Lucifer, and then bid goodbye. It was then when you looked at them walking away. Lucifer's hand on her back, Chloe looking small beside him— your chest aching the same, if not, more.

You're definitely not gonna look again.

You had a week off work, and you'd almost fell to your knees thanking God when the lieutenant told you. You needed it more than you needed Chloe, which proves just how important it was— Chloe had been. Still is, by the way.

It was 8 am, by now Chloe would be at her desk, examining or making reports, or on a crime scene with Ella and, Lucifer. You snapped out of your mind, reminding yourself you'd needed the vacation because work and particularly Chloe had been stressing you out and very much so hurting you.

You'd hit the beach, go to the mountains for the view,— you didn't wanna hike though, you needed rest not making sweats— visit your sister and niece, and then finally bake while blasting Taylor Swift because admit it or not, you're much broken than your grandmother's vase.

When the water was hot enough, you took a bath and dressed. A peach-colored tank top that comes along with a brown mini skirt and a coat was your outfit for the day. Only, the coat reminded you too much of Chloe's. She liked coats. And that coat, back then warning you that she'd steal it eventually. So you changed with other coats, just didn't fit well with the shirt and skirt, so you gave in and left your hair untouched and untied. Grabbing your pouch and your gun— a licensed one, just in case. And opened your door. You would've preferred the bright sky and fresh air of the morning in LA. But Chloe Decker was standing there, fist on air as if she'd been ready to knock.

You froze.

Were you having a stroke? Most likely.

“(Y/N).”

“Chloe.”

Wasn't she supposed to be at work? You didn't mind either way, but it surprised you still, she hadn't been visiting much since... Lucifer. Everything's just been different since he arrived, not in a good way for you.

You stepped aside, not saying anything since you figured out a human wouldn't understand any word that comes out of your mouth. She went in, instead of sitting on your couch like the old days, she lingered on the living room, standing and looking at you.

Most times you hadn't mind.

She started, “How are you?”

“I'm good.”

“No, (Y/N). How are you?”

You didn't know what to say. Or why she'd ask a question as that. “I'm not—”

“Do you like me?”

What.

Your face must've given the shock, because she answered your unasked question. “Dan said some things. I'm-I'm not— you're not transferring, are you?”

Oh you're definitely gonna choke the life out of Dan. But knowing him, he wouldn't have spit it out too easily. He was probably drunk and didn't mean it. Still, you wished you said it to Chloe yourself. About the liking and transferring.

You remained silent, reading the expression on Chloe's face. Was she sad? Upset? After years of knowing her, you would've known right away. But now you couldn't. And you fear you might've forgotten the every detail of her face, too.

“(Y/N)...” Her voice gave out, carrying every sadness within. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“About what?” You answered stupidly in a whisper, fearing that if you came into your senses everything would feel too real.

“About everything! About— about your feelings for me. About Seatte. About why you've been so far from me!”

“You have been far from me, Chloe.”

She frowns, and you knew millions and billions and gazillions of questions where popping in her mind.

Tears in your eyes were forming, and you hated it, all of this. She wasn't supposed to know at all. She wasn't supposed to know you had immature feelings for her. Wasn't supposed to know you were transferring atleast 'till next month. But Chloe wasn't dumb, and you should've known that.

Chloe swallowed the lump in her throat, her breathing heavy. “We could've talked about it.”

“We haven't talked much at all these days because of—” you cut yourself off, rolling your eyes at how sick it feels. You hated yourself for it, but you continued anyway. “Because of Lucifer.”

She exhaled. “Lucifer and I are complicated.”

“I know that, Chloe.” You said firmly, meeting her gaze pitying you. Of course she pities you. “I also know you like him so much. I know you've been crying when he fake married that Candy. I know you've been sick worrying when he can't answer your texts or calls. I know you've gone lengths trying to understand him. I know. I know so much so that I didn't wanna be so selfish and tell you things you didn't wanna hear because it'll make your complicated relationship with Lucifer even more complicated. I fucking know. And I loved you too much.”

Chloe's tears were beginning to fall, one by one, slowly. And it hurts you to see her like this. Especially because you know you caused it.

“It was never my intention to push you away. You're my friend— can't we just stay like this?” She asked in a soft, breaking voice. And if it wasn't Chloe you would've said yes because people are easy to move on from. But it was indeed Chloe and she was... not like anyone you know. She was a missing piece of your puzzle. Only, you have never been a piece of hers.

“I love you, Chloe.”

It was weird, saying it out loud, to her. You never thought you could, knowing you were a coward than every cowards combined.

You did though, and that must've pulled something. Because Chloe approached you, side hugged, and then left.

So much for a vacation.

You spent the night crying.

Chloe Decker spent hers with the man she loved. And you were never that man.

#chloe decker x reader #chloe decker #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #netflix #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #wlw #angst #angsty #fluff #hurt/comfort #hurt no comfurt #hurt comfort

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moonbaby26 · 3 years

Text

Title: A Party and a Spy

Pairing: Loki x Goddess!Reader

Summary: Story set nearer the Viking Age. You were a Greek sea goddess who crossed paths with the god of mischief. Continuation of previous chapter. Loki is forced to return to Asgard to unwillingly participate in the festivities honoring Odin and Thor’s victories in Alfheim. He ends up drunk and in a piss poor mood that he then wants you to help relieve. Your secret meetings also finally attract an unwanted visitor. Super brief cameos here by Sif, the warriors three, and Thor, as well as Heimdall again.

Warnings: Semi smut possibly, but no real sex this chapter. Sorry to tease, will be some next chapter. Here is just mentions of arousal, grinding through clothing. Mention of masturbation. Also some animal abuse, but a magical animal who will be fine I guess. The princes are just jerks like that.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @rosaline-black , @lawfeys , @loveableasshole , @insanitybyanothername , @just-wordsandthoughts , @cringingmemeries

My Masterlist

——————————

You still felt warm, your head just poking out from under the blanket as you stretched a little. Your hand ran out across the mattress after a moment though, contacting nothing to your surprise as you then opened your eyes.

As you quickly sat up, the look on your face must have said far too much as you heard a chuckle from nearby.

“No, goddess, I haven’t left just yet. My, you are expressive though.”

As you turned your head towards the voice, you saw Loki now sitting in one of the two chairs at the small table opposite your side of the bed.

He was still dressed only in a pair of pants you also quickly noted, yourself still so unused to seeing this much of him as your eyes lingered on the lean muscle and pale skin.

“What?” He asked, not missing that stare either, though the sly look in his eyes told you he knew damned well what you were now distracted with. He just wanted you to say it.

“Asgardians really do wear too many clothes, if you are any proper example anyway.” You replied simply though. Why hide so much all the time?

He raised an eyebrow, but was smirking as he taunted a little further. “Oh I can assure you, there is no one in Asgard like me. And you’d prefer this not be reserved just for you then?”

You tried not to look caught off guard. Even if he were only teasing, the implication that he’d still be keeping this type of intimacy for you alone was something that made your stomach flutter slightly.

“Come here.” He said next though, snapping you back to attention, though you still hesitated. Was that a command or a request?

He only rolled his eyes after a moment though. “Oh, don’t waste time trying to be proud now. I do have to leave shortly, it will already be late morning in Asgard by now.” He extended a hand to you. “So come, sit with me.”

You eventually acquiesced, standing from the bed then, though intending just to walk to the other chair. Yet the very moment you were close enough, he only grabbed you by the arm, pulling you down to sit on his lap instead.

He was surprisingly fast and strong when he wished to be, his arms already around your waist as well before you could think to try and stand again.

“There. That wasn’t so hard was it?” He spoke lowly against your ear as you shifted.

But to your surprise he didn’t touch you any further, even though one arm did stay around your waist to keep you steady as his other hand just went back to the table.

“I have a job for you.” He added, then moving his hand oddly as a piece of parchment paper and a writing quill appeared abruptly from thin air. “At least I think it may work. I’m sure the majority of these animals are illiterate. I’m hoping at least the clan chief has some shaman or someone of the sort that understands these runes. It’s the only written language I’ve ever seen in this land.”

But even as he started to write on the paper, your mind was still only fixating on what you’d just seen as you asked abruptly. “How did you do that?”

He seemed focused on whatever symbols he was now putting on the page, but he still answered. “How do I do what? They’re just runes.”

“No, how did you conjure the pen and paper?” Controlling the elements, moving objects by will, or casting illusions was one thing. But forming a very unnatural, man made object from essentially nothing was different than the typical kind of magic you were used to.

Loki paused a moment then, like trying to digest what you’d just said before he glanced back up to look you in the eyes.

“The woman can move the seas themselves and is astonished by a piece of paper?” He mocked incredulously.

Your eyebrows lowered. “Listen, I know good and well I’m no sorceress. That’s why I’m asking. How do you create something like that from nothing?”

He shook his head. “Gods, they really just give magic to anyone these days.”

A joke clearly, as everything you had you had been born with, though learning to control it had taken time. And to be honest, was still an ongoing learning process. But you still wanted an answer as you looked at him pointedly.

He sighed under your gaze. “I really don’t have the time for this. But I know you won’t let it go.” He had continued writing though even as he kept talking. “I didn’t make them, goddess. I brought them with me. You are at least correct in that nearly all instances of magic, nothing can be made without taking of something else. I’m sure when you make those little whirlpools of yours for instance, you’re drawing the latent energy from the water. The currents, the temperature differences, what have you. To truly make something from nothing...well, that would be chaos magic. Which, may or may not even exist depending which of the ancient mages’ tomes you most believe in.”

You could tell he did take pride in his studies and the principles behind them clearly. If he wasn’t already concerned about returning to Asgard, you could probably get a whole lecture on this subject right now. But you couldn’t help but point out again, as you just responded. “Yet you still haven’t really answered my question. If you brought them with you, where were they before?” You glanced down at his pants as if to reaffirm your doubt that anything other than himself had been hidden there as they were relatively tight.

Yet he still smirked at your continued insistence. “On the scale of the things I’m capable of, my dear, that’s just a parlor trick. And if you really care so much, I can teach you at some other time.”

At that, he paused writing again though, placing the quill down momentarily as he then moved his hand again for a long dagger to abruptly be held in his palm. “You see? There are far better uses to this trick.” He flipped the knife just as quickly though, letting the blade’s point stab into the table as the dagger then stood on end.

And as it did so he made sure to look to see your reaction, also asking you, “Do you really just depend on your servants to follow you around at all hours with any weapons you may need?”

Yet you just looked from the dagger, then back to him. Surprised surely, but not actually frightened. “And do you have so many enemies as to always need that at the ready?”

“One never really knows do they?” He answered smoothly, just grasping the dagger’s handle again before it disappeared once more.

It didn’t seem like a threat really. But you felt he still wanted you to know a bit more of what he was capable of. You quieted afterward as he went back to writing for a few more moments.

When he was done, you could tell he glanced over the letter briefly, as if proofreading before he rolled the paper tightly and folded it.

He spoke rather business like then, an odd thing honestly as you still sat so intimately on his lap. “If it wasn’t already obvious, I’d like you to carry this to the village leader while I return to Asgard. I don’t have the time to deal with the mortals right now, and besides, they’re your pets.”

“Excuse me? Have you forgotten whose idea this whole ‘protector’ role was to begin with?”

“Oh, I was willing to let the lot of them be wiped out if you’d chosen not to save them. I’d only need to spare whichever the nicest home was from burning as the marauders moved through, and we still would have ended up with a place to meet regardless.”

The sad thing was, you were actually sure he really meant that too. But he just continued.

“Yet you pitied them, and now here we are. And as the beasts held up their end of the bargain, I agree it’s fair at least to give them some recognition for their work. A pat on the head and a ‘good dog’ essentially, that’s what this letter says. So you see, I’m not wholly ungrateful.”

“A thank you letter?” You asked dryly. Relatively sure it likely didn’t read completely as such.

“Well, essentially. But with a reminder on the rules as well.”

“Rules?”

“Our privacy must be respected. I’ll put a green flame at the end of the trail nearer the village when we’re present. During the night, this place is also solely ours. If during the day there’s no flame, then they can come up and clean and maintenance this tiny wood hutch like good help should.”

“Your staff at your palace must just adore you.” You mused sarcastically. “The mortals are not our slaves, Loki.”

“It’s really an odd thing how you fancy them.” He retorted, though with an air of someone just humoring another person they already thought irreparably deluded. “But I suppose you have nothing else fulfilling to pass the time when I’m in Asgard. Some people like to paint, others like to craft things...you, you have your pets.”

Arrogant god you thought. As if suddenly you had no other purpose outside of him? Surely he saw that insulted look in your eyes as well, because you could see the entertained mirth in his own before he pulled you closer to kiss you suddenly.

And this one was rough again, briefly reminding you of that night in the cave as you felt his hands move down to your hips. His tongue was already in your mouth before you could even consider pulling away.

From last night when he’d only held you, to now seeming so hungry again, the sides of him could change so quickly you were learning.

His hands didn’t move beneath your dress though, even though you thought his fingers may be grabbing you hard enough to bruise as he twisted you to be fully facing him. Straddling him actually with each of your legs now on either side of him as he rested against the back of the chair.

He kept kissing you, and it wasn’t long before you felt that distinct hardness against you even through his pants. As always though, you wore nothing beneath your dress, a matter of practicality really for as often as you were in the water. Who would want any undergarments constantly rubbing and chaffing where you were most sensitive? You liked sheer and loose material in the dresses you wore, so that it moved easily as you swam and dried quickly when you were on land.

But he knew all this by now of course, as he just ground his hips then, that rough seam of his pants then moving between your legs as he drug it back and forth.

He was intentionally trying to work you up. You sensed the trap, but still found your own hands moving across his bare chest soon enough.

Your newfound lack of willpower was really astounding. Finally though, you pulled your head back to break the kiss and warn him. “If you’re just doing this with no intention to actually follow through...”

“If you wanted it so badly, you could have taken it last night.” He retorted though. “I’ve already stayed too long.”

“Why can’t I want both?” You answered, meaning it as well. It wasn’t just sex, nor was it just being in his company. Neither by itself was enough anymore. Each had its own place.

He looked frustrated himself though as you felt him thrust against you reflexively, that bulge in his pants wasted even as it scraped against where you were now becoming wet. “I’m telling you, Odin is back at the palace now. I have to be calculated in the times I come and go. There is some damned ceremony today, likely starting any moment by now for their victories in Alfheim. If I’m not there, they’re going to come looking for me.”

As much as you knew he liked to bend the truth. It wouldn’t make sense for him to deny himself this right now unless it was actually for good reason.

“Well you’re the one who pulled me into your lap and kissed me.” You relented, though your own body now fully flustered and urging you to return to him even as you stood up and stepped away.

“Well you shouldn’t have slept so late.” He grumbled back. Pulling at his pants in some discomfort as he stood as well.

But you watched as his armor manifested then, horned helmet and all as his magic washed across him. What you guessed would now be his attire for the ceremony he’d spoken of. You assumed that clothing and armor had been in whatever void the pen, paper, and dagger had been.

At least with his illusions he could also conceal his arousal if it hadn’t faded on its own by the time he reached the palace though, you thought with some amusement.

Yet, even as he walked for the door, he taunted to you as if sensing your enjoyment of his current predicament. “You’re welcome to get back in the bed you know. Think of me while you self soothe, goddess.”

So crude. But you just fired back before he could close the door. “And is that what you do at night in Asgard? Think of yourself as well to finish things off?” You were trying to mock his evident self importance of course.

Yet he didn’t even miss a beat at the intended insult. “Why be myself when I can just be you? Then I never have to forget how you feel.”

And just to prove that he could, you stared in disbelief as a perfect likeness of yourself then smiled back at you lewdly, thin dress and all before shutting the door unceremoniously.

Gods. That was just unnatural. And you had to sit down at that, arousal now paused at least as your body’s resulting confusion was almost palpable.

———————————

Asgard, not long after

Loki was back to his normal appearance, hurriedly stepping into the small grouping of warriors he’d recognized at once in the rest of the crowd at the palace ceremonial hall.

Sif’s head turned in immediate surprise and annoyance as those golden horns entered her peripheral vision. The irritation was evident even as she tried to keep her voice low with so many others still around them. “And just where have you been!? Thor was looking for you everywhere!”

“I was in the library, did he think to look in the library!?” Loki spat back immediately, knowing that even if his brother had checked there, Thor knew the layout of it so poorly, he could always have claimed to have been in another section.

“Yet why are you breathing so hard, chap? Were you actually running?” Fandral asked as well, also looking Loki over.

“And why pray tell would I have been running?” Loki shot a glare to him next. Could they not mind their own damned business for once?

“Because you were late?” Volstagg offered in that simplistic, yet matter of fact way that was always beyond annoying even on the best day.

“Well I’m here now.” Loki huffed, though not missing the way Hogun was also staring at him critically. “And do you have something to add?” Loki grumbled at him.

But only Sif answered. “Well if you hadn’t been lost in the library,” Her tone made clear how little she believed that excuse, “You’d know that Thor chose you to give the congratulatory speech before-”

“The what?” Loki stared at her, that odd mix of horror and disgust then abruptly clear on his face.

——————————

“So what more can I say of Asgard’s favorite son?” Loki’s public speaking voice boomed richly through the great hall, the throng of happy faces sickening as he smiled right back at them. What fresh Hel was this really?

“Alfheim counts her graces I am sure to have such noble saviors defend her-” By the gods he didn’t even know what Odin and Thor had done there the entire time. He assumed there’d been skull bashing and the normal heroics. But if they’d been working out peace treaties instead the last few weeks, who knew. He’d been looking for hidden portals to Midgard still on the days they’d held the main debriefings.

“And with peace secured in the realms once more, please join me in giving thanks to the noble Allfather and the mighty Thor!” Loki wasn’t normally one for alcohol. Not in comparison to most Asgardians anyway. He thought it dulled the mind too much. But by all the mages in all the realms...he so badly needed it now, as he took a large swig of the strongest Asgard had, before throwing the glass down to shatter it as was custom. “And let the feasts commence!”

The crowd erupted in cheers. And on any other day, that would have been something he obviously would have wanted. But Loki knew that not one voice was for him as he suddenly felt a large hand and arm go around his shoulders, shaking him roughly before his brother’s voice joined the yells, yet right in his ear.

“HUZZAH!” Thor cried, one arm still around Loki as his other lifted Mjolnir triumphantly.

—————————

And it was so many hours later before Loki had finally escaped. Time and time again as he’d tried to excuse himself from the endless barrage of drinks and food, it was as if his brother had somehow sensed it.

Then there would be Thor again, telling him any one of those same stories over and over as he’d somehow corralled Loki back into the feast room. If he’d had to hear one more time how with one hand forced behind his back, and Mjolnir still in mid air, that Thor had kicked one of the enemies’ bombs right back into their own garrison, taking out an entire enemy troop as more of their stored artillery then exploded...Loki may have finally vomited.

As it was now, he wasn’t exactly walking a straight line either though. Just carrying his own helmet in one hand, his head already throbbing as he made his way slowly through the corridors. His other arm reaching out occasionally, grazing the walls for balance.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d drank so much. Well, more like been forced to drink so much, just to try and maintain his sanity in what was essentially just another gathering of his brother’s sycophants.

Honestly did Thor even see it? Did he really think all those hanger-ons were truly his friends? Perhaps there was some argument for Sif and the warriors three. As thick headed as they all were, they were about cut from the same cloth. And that was not a compliment.

But all the others? It’d be almost pitiable really if it weren’t so damned annoying. Yet maybe it was the alcohol there as well, making Loki linger on so many of these feelings again.

By the time he reached the entrance to his quarters, he was frowning as he pushed the heavy doors open. He still made sure that they shut fully behind him though as he waved his hand to lock them doubly with a spell.

It was not without precedent that in some true late night madness, either Thor, or Thor, Fandral, and Volstagg may still force entry to try and get him to accompany them on some additional drunken adventure while they were still riding so high on their accomplishments.

“Idiots,” Loki grumbled to no one though. Still stuck in that sour mood as he moved across the dark room, losing clothes as he did so before finally ending up in his elaborate bed. The silken sheets were then the only thing against his skin as he laid there in silence, though the room still feeling like it was moving slightly in his lingering vertigo.

But he just wanted to sleep. That and to will this headache and the thoughts that worsened it away.

But instead he only laid there. His drunken thoughts churning louder and louder as the minutes passed, alone in this extravagant, luxurious, and also very empty bed.

Scattered across the palace now, he could only imagine all the couplings likely occurring. Not necessarily in the full sense of the word. But he knew how these types of festivities normally ended.

Thor was likely in an archway somewhere with Sif, pawing at each other with all the finesse of a pair of schoolchildren. Fandral and Hogun would still be at a table, Fandral now showing off his sword to a couple maidens simultaneously with only thinly veiled euphemisms of how it compared to the hidden equivalent. And Volstagg would have his actual wife and children there, somehow still not bored of them yet as they all laughed together.

And that’s what it really was, laughable.

Loki rolled onto his side, glaring towards the balcony and the stars dotting the black sky beyond it. No, he didn’t need any of that farce of companionship. Not just for the sake of it anyway like all the others. He took what he wanted, when he wanted surely. Pleasure was one thing after all, but it didn’t control him.

You didn’t control him actually. Because no one controlled the god of mischief.

But the longer he lay there in silence, the more he could then imagine your fingers soon running through his hair, or the warmth of your lap to lay his aching head in. He’d had bad days before, many times retreating to this very room alone. But he didn’t have to be alone tonight. He didn’t have to be alone at all anymore did he?

“Goddamnit.” He finally hissed. It was foolhardy, dangerous even after just returning from Midgard already once today. But he wasn’t going to sleep tonight otherwise. Not until he had what he really wanted.

——————————

Loki certainly wasn’t going to be walking all the way to the bifrost gate. Not at this hour, and not in this condition. So he’d taken a form that at least no one would have second guessed if they’d just happened to look up as he’d passed quickly overhead.

One of Father’s ravens, or the rats with wings as he preferred to call them. And as he’d landed near Heimdall, then regaining his normal form, the older god just looked down at him, unimpressed.

“She’s returned to the ocean. She already sleeps.” Heimdall spoke unprompted.

Yet Loki’s eyebrows rose mockingly, even if his words took a little more effort right now. “Oh? Making a habit of watching her…even without me then? That’s a bit perverse.”

But the gatekeeper’s expression hardly changed at the insult, still so difficult to goad. “I saw you coming, and your questions to her whereabouts are becoming predictable.”

It was true. Loki had already come here several nights, yes. Mostly to check whether the mortals had finished that structure or not. And it’d finally been a pleasant reward just the other night when Heimdall had confirmed it already done and you there waiting.

“I don’t care where she is.” Loki retorted though. “I’m going to Midgard. Open the gate.”

“You are inebriated.” Heimdall warned.

“And you have a severely itritating penchant for stating the obvious…open the gate.” He commanded more forcefully.

“Anywhere in Midgard particular?” Heimdall answered.

Loki paused though, hearing that slightest change in the guardian’s normal stoic tone with those last words. “Are you…attempting to make a joke?”

“I did not wish to assume or state the obvious again as you said. And you also say you do not care where she is. So do you not care where you should land tonight then?”

He was! He was mocking him. Loki growled, pointing his finger for emphasis. “Now listen here…it has been a god awful, long day. Quit trying to dissuade me. Send me to the village, gatekeeper!”

“Any village?”

Gods. “My village, her village, whatever you want to call it. But do it or I’ll use the damned sword myself!”

With one last cheerless look down at Loki, Heimdall turned the sword then, opening the gate even as he warned a final time. “Do not fall from the bifrost, Prince. The universe is vast and does not suffer the careless well. Do remember as well that all things done have consequences in the end.”

But Loki had no time to search for deeper meaning in the words, just ruffling more as he walked towards the light. “Is that a threat?”

“Only a truth and a caution.” Heimdall again answered, just before the other disappeared back across the bridge.

———————————

And as the light left him again, Loki was once more in that dark forest. Yet, the ground far lighter colored than normal as to a little of his surprise, his boots now found fresh snow. Winter had finally arrived to this part of Midgard apparently.

He cursed, realizing it would have been far smarter to have told Heimdall to deposit him directly onto the beach this time as he’d now had to navigate back down the hillside and to the trail that led between the cliff face.

It had started snowing again as well as he walked, the large flakes sticking in his black hair by the time he reached the ocean’s edge. He should have told you just to stay at the cabin this morning. But he didn’t expect to be standing here again so soon either.

Loki didn’t care about the water at this point though, the waves rushing up around his feet and over the top of his boots as he trudged forward to call out. “Hear me, sea beasts! Hear me and bring your mistress to me!”

And it didn’t take long of course before he saw two feminine looking torsos rise just where the waves were breaking in the distance. Not quite human, but expressive enough that he could see the skepticism in their body language.

“She’s asleep!” One called back over the waves.

“Then go and wake her!” He only hissed back as if scolding an insubordinate child. Why did everyone feel the need to test him tonight?

But the two nymphs just looked at one another. The other then speaking. “What is so important? Are you claiming injury again?”

He scoffed at the jab, voice easily sliding into its darker range then, even in his continued drunken state. He did not have time for this. “Do not forget your place, water sprite.”

And as he made a move as if to step further into the water, he was pleased to see them both shrink back at that. When they disappeared not long after, he knew all he now had to do was wait.

—————————

You didn’t fully know what to expect. Why was he back so soon? Not that you should complain, but he’d made such a point about having to return to Asgard this morning, and he’d never come back so quickly before. Even though it was now dead of night.

The nymphs also said he’d been acting strangely, even a bit ruder than normal. They insisted you bring your spear, and so you had as you broke the surface only to find him sitting at the water’s edge. Though not even far enough onto the beach to stay dry as the water now ran around him and then pulled back with each successive wave. His pants and cloak were clearly soaked, snow also dotting all over him to your surprise.

“Loki?” You asked, concerned but cautious. Normally the rare sight of snow would have distracted you in its own right had you not been so focused on him. The north was still unique to you for all its differences.

“The cold doesn’t bother me either.” He said abruptly, seeing that worry in your eyes. But he didn’t stand out of the water. “You really should reprimand your servants…”

“It’s not quite that kind of a relationship.” You replied, though not defensively as you still tried to realize what was wrong with him. “Are you alright?”

“No.” He said simply.

If it was just another trick, it was a good one. But you felt you had no real choice but to behave as if he was sincere. You only laid your spear down in the water as you then moved to sit down beside him.

He looked over at you as you did, and you could see how tired he looked even in the darkness. So close to him then, that was finally when you smelled the scent of alcohol, impressively strong even over the salt smell of the ocean.

He was drunk.

“Loki…” You said again, unsure at all what would have driven him to this kind of excess. “Do you want me to help you to the cabin?”

He leaned closer though, as if to either kiss you or lay his head against yours. He did nuzzle your face slightly though as he whispered in your ear. “I want him to get closer first.” Before you could react though, he’d then grabbed your chin to keep you from looking away from him. “He can’t hear us over the noise of the sea…but don’t look away.”

And he did kiss you then, that heady taste of the alcohol almost as distracting as the nonsensical words. His hand was moving up your thigh as well as his other moved around to your back. It all seemed like only the beginnings of foreplay before just as suddenly, he then pushed you down beneath him. His hand that had been on your thigh pulled back simultaneously to throw a dagger violently out into the darkness.

You heard a distinct sound of a hit, a creature screech, and then chaotic flapping in the sand and snow somewhere near the cliff’s base.

Loki was now laying on top of you, your back still pressed into the wet sand as the water rushed back up around you both. He glanced back down at you then, ignoring the confusion in your eyes as he kissed you roughly several times more before finally pulling back again. “We’ll have to get back to that tomorrow…” He all but purred, mood shifting suddenly to satisfaction as he stood once more and offered you his hand.

Utterly baffled, you still took it, letting him help you up before he let go of you to walk off towards the distressed sounds you still heard near the cliff. You only hung back long enough to grab your spear before hurrying to follow him.

You didn’t know what kind of beast to expect from all the noise, and only found yourself more surprised as a pitiable looking black bird finally came into view. It flapped even harder upon seeing Loki, but with one wing clearly mangled and blood spattering the snow and sand around it.

“Oh, you over dramatic twat.” Loki fussed, snatching the hapless creature up with little fanfare as his other hand reclaimed his now bloody dagger, disappearing it again with his magic. “And which one are you?” He asked, holding it roughly near his face as it now continually tried to bite him in defiance.

You didn’t know what he was looking for, and you were about to say something about how harshly he was holding the poor animal before Loki smirked in recognition.

“Well…Muninn, you little vermin. You saw me leave the palace didn’t you? Did you really think I was your other half? Couldn’t leave well enough alone could you?”

What? So this was one of Odin’s ravens? But, Loki had just stabbed it! Was this not treason? Treason that you were now a party to? You had so many questions as your inner panic began to grow.

But Loki only kept smiling, talking with condescension to the injured bird. “Yet, for you to be here so quickly, then you’ve found my door for me. There’s a rift between Asgard and Midgard somewhere nearby…and for that you get to keep your other wing tonight, you little spy.”

—————————

As you passed back up the trail to the cabin together, you saw Loki had indeed kept his word about signaling to the mortals when you were here. A green flame floated, ethereal in midair at the edge of the tree-line.

It had a haunting look to it, but you said nothing, still so focused on Loki’s rough handling of the injured raven. And by the time you’d entered the woods, you could no longer contain yourself.

“Please don’t hold him by the chest like that. It makes it too hard for them to breathe. You’re going to suffocate him!”

At your outburst, Loki seemed to have a genuine moment of surprise, looking over at you before his normal superior expression returned. “Just because you can become a bird….doesn’t mean you should give a damn about this one. Don’t waste your time on kindness. Despite your bleeding heart, his loyalty lies only with the Allfather. He’ll snitch you out regardless.”

“But, he has lost a lot of blood. We can’t let him die, Loki…” You still kept on, worried the alcohol had truly made him lose all sense of judgement.

Again he just gave you the oddest look before outright laughing though. He shook the bird a little, making it squawk again, before continuing. “This rat and his brother are imbued with Odin’s magic. They cannot perish so easily as long as Odin still lives.”

Yet, that was still not comforting to you in the slightest. In what possible way could torturing a favored pet of the Allfather end positively for the two of you?

But Loki didn’t miss the way you still stared with disapproval, just rolling his eyes as you finally made it to the cabin. “Do you know how long we’ve dealt with these little pests? When Thor got his first slingshot as a boy, what do you think he practiced it on? When I learned my first spells, what did I test them on? There is nothing new to this…”

“That’s awful.” You grumbled, though watching as Loki did this odd movement with his shoulders, his magic shifting over him so that he was suddenly dry again.

As he walked inside, you had to shake the snow off yourself the old fashioned way. Your dress and hair still damp from that and the ocean combined as you followed him inside, leaning your spear against the wall before closing the door. “So you could do that the whole time,” You commented as to his drying trick, though not really surprised by anything else right now.

He smirked a little, knowing what you were thinking. With a wave of his hand a couple of the candles also lit. “Oh, I didn’t do it that night in the cave. You were supposed to take pity and ask me to take off some of my wet clothes…of course they ended up off anyway didn’t they?”

You crossed your arms, just frowning as he unceremoniously opened the chest on the floor next, tossing the injured Muninn into it before slamming it back closed.

“I’ll deal with you in the morning,” Loki threatened in response to the resulting angry squawk, giving the chest a light kick before the noise inside silenced.

When he turned to look at you again, he only offered a dark smile. Though still looking tired as he started to remove his clothes.

You tried to keep your disapproving look strong even as you realized he was using no magic at all, removing his vestments piece by piece as if to taunt you into further watching.

But looking away would have just goaded him too wouldn’t it? Letting him know the sight of his body still did things to you. You couldn’t win either way as all of his clothes finally laid piled on the floor, no neatness this time as he went lay nude in the bed.

You stood there a further moment, really not knowing what to do. He didn’t deserve to be rewarded right now in your mind. But were you just supposed to walk right back out the door? You didn’t have the willpower for that either, not anymore.

He watched you lazily too, waiting. His voice was quieter now though as he did speak again. “If I’d wanted to sleep alone…I would have just stayed in Asgard.”

Your shoulders lowered a little at the softer words, but you didn’t know how much you really believed him. You finally did approach the bed however, removing your wet dress, and not missing the way his eyes moved across your body before you climbed in under the blanket beside him.

But you could also tell he was in no condition for love making, even as you felt his hand encircle one of your wrists, himself then pulling your hand up so your fingers fell into his hair.

He gave you an imploring look, making his intention clear even if unexpected. It was so strange, but you complied, starting to rub your fingers through his hair and along his scalp gently.

The way he clearly relaxed into the touch reminded you so much of a placated animal truly. And he even closed his eyes as you just continued stroking, letting the black hair work repeatedly between your fingers.

To drunkenly cross the vast breadth of space just for this minor affection, also risking exposure by his Father’s informants, was it telling you that he really was so reckless after all? Or…was this becoming a real need for him?

Were you becoming a need in his life?

You felt him line up his body with yours, flesh to flesh as he got further comfortable.

“Thank you.” You heard him say at last. Surprising you enough that you could find nothing to say in return.

You just kept on with your soft touches though, comforting the troublesome prince all the way until he finally fell asleep in your arms.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

#loki #loki fanfic #loki smut #loki fluff #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki x oc #loki odison x reader #loki odinson #loki layfeyson x reader #loki lafeyson #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x y/n #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x y/n

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rattyoakenbitch · 3 years

Text

❝𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞❞ ─ 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨

hey, it's not like you ever tried to stay . .

❥ content ; gn reader, angst, dark themes, yandere themes, toxic relationship

❥ warnings ; sxlf hxrm & mxtilation, swearing, verbal abuse, manipulation, slight nxdity lol

❥ synopsis ; all you wanted was his attention. and by the gods, you were going to get his attention by any means.

❥ a/n ; first mello fic (: i've been wanting to write something dark for a while and ig i finally got the opportunity lol. i thought i got out of my death note stage but i'm back, so please don't be afraid to send requests or ask to be added to my nonexistent taglist! alsoo while this oneshot does include s/h, i am in no way glorifying or romanticizing it!!! but i do tend to write angsty and dark fics. again, this is a work of fiction and i don't intend for anyone to take this too seriously and let this influence them.

The loud crash of a glass echoed throughout the room as a vase went flying through the air and collided with the wall, just a few feet from where you were standing.

You didn't flinch. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. Didn't react. You were used to Mello's fits of rage by now, months into your relationship. If you could even call it that, at this point.

You knew Mello wouldn't dare lay a finger on you; if he did, he'd cut off his own hands and have live with the guilt forever, knowing he brought you harm. Which is why you didn't react.

However, he didn't seem to have a problem when it was only verbal.

"I don't fucking get you!" Mello spat harshly and continued to rant, "Why did you think that was okay?! Did you once consider how I felt?! I was worried sick that some asshole hurt you but you come back a day later and tell me you were at some boy's house!"

You only scoff, leaning against the wall in a relaxed manner, eyeing the remaining shards of the vase carefully. Just like Mello, you were incredibly stubborn.

"Answer me, Y/N!"

"Okay, Mihael," you state cooly, using Mello's legal name and causing him to listen more intently. "First of all, I don't know what you expected me to do when you invited your weird mafia 'friends' over while I was trying to sleep. Second, he's not 'some boy', his name is Y/F/N and he's one of a few people I can trust. I don't know what you think of me."

"You could've gotten a hotel room, that's what!"

"With what money, Mihael?! What fucking money? You forced me to quit my job and then practically lock me up in this hell hole that I can't even call 'home' anymore!"

Mello huffed. "Pfft, you should be grateful. I've kept you safe all this time, away from the dangers of the world. You're alive because of me. Me. You're mine."

"Yeah, some fucking life, right?"

"I provide for you, I protect you from the monsters out in the world, but you still decide to go and whore yourself out to your little 'friend'," Mello sneered, his sharp voice dripping with venom.

You stared at your boyfriend in disbelief. All words, all arguments and nasty retorts expiring on your lips.

"I.." You start, but laugh pitifully. "I don't even know what you're saying. I don't know if you even know what you're saying. Honestly, Mello, just when I thought you couldn't surprise me anymore, you start spewing complete and utter bullshit out of your mouth." Mello's silence only egged you on. "It's no wonder Near always came in first place." Aaand there it was. You snapped.

If looks could kill, you'd be dead. Mello's eyes widened in anger at the mention of Near, reminding him of his inferiority.

In a completely different situation where he wasn't on the receiving end, Mello would be smiling proudly, listening to your clever retorts and comebacks. You've always been as stubborn and hot headed as him, and he really liked that about you, fuck that "opposites attract" bullshit. (I ACC LOVE THAT TROPE LOL IM SORRY) However, considering you were both extremely toxic people, it was far from entertaining when it was you who got in a fight with the other.

You didn't stop, though. If he was gonna play that who-could-be-more-toxic game, you weren't gonna back down.

"I don't know if it was the explosion or you've really always been that stupid, but you need to get the fuck over yourself and stop throwing tantrums when you find out that I have a life, too, and I have friends. Friends who actually give a damn."

You stare down each other in silence, a heavy tension hanging in the air. Still, after a few moments, Mello didn't make any effort to speak or react, other than walking out of the room.

Days, weeks went by. Mello hasn't spoken a word to you. Hasn't even looked in your direction when you passed each other or walked into the same room. You didn't exist anymore, and it worried you.

Mello was never like this. Within a few days or even hours after an argument, you would easily kiss and make up. Had you gone too far this time?

Besides the fact that Mello was intentionally giving you the cold shoulder, he was also busy with work, and was out of the house from midnight to early afternoon. During that time, you would stay at home and carry out your every day mundane tasks and chores.

Even now, you didn't seek comfort in your family or friends. You were either busy keeping the house clean, sleeping, or entertaining yourself on social media. But it was all a sad attempt to keep your mind occupied on anything else other than Mello.

And one day like any other where Mello was out doing whatever the hell mafia dudes do, you snapped. You decided you were sick of the silent treatment.

If Mello was gonna play dirty and ignore you, you were gonna give him something to react to.

Mello came home some time after sunset. Kicking off his boots as he walked in the front door, he immediately knew something was off. It was quiet - too quiet. Despite the fact that you were practically taking some sort of forced break after the argument, you acted the same. You went about your day and didn't bother acting shy or timid around Mello. You still hummed earworm pop songs to yourself or put on a podcast to fill the tense air. But now there was nothing. Just Mello, the walls, and the silence.

Mello cautiously walked around the house and searched for any signs of you, fearing the worst.

As he frantically looked around, he stopped abruptly at the sight of blood smeared onto the hallway wall.

Blood.

His heartbeat began to thump loudly in his ears.

Then he noticed more blood. And more, smeared up on the wall, and eventually a trail picked up. He followed the bloody trail as it lead him through the hallway and stopped outside of your shared bedroom that he hasn't been inside for weeks.

Mello shakily inhaled and braced himself for whatever gruesome scene he would walk into.

He reached for the doorknob, twisting it and letting himself in.

Soon as he did, he ceased all motions, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to process what his eyes were showing him.

There, you sat on the bed, nothing on but your underwear and one of Mello's shirts. On one hand, you loosely held a pocket knife. On the other, you had your sleeve rolled up, your inner arm facing Mello's direction.

Your doe eyes looked up from the floor and met Mello's panicked ones. He was finally looking at you again. Despite the gorey setting and the stinging in your arm, you smiled. You were real to him again.

Multiple cuts oozed blood and trickled down your arm, onto your now dirtied clothes and the once satin white sheets below you.

As Mello got closer, silently freaking out, he could now see that these weren't just cuts - you carved out words. Sentences, onto your arm.

Among the many bloody 'I love you's' and pleads, one word stuck out to him.

It was his name.

He felt sick. Distraught. Guilty. Afraid.

"Y/N," he choked out shakily.

His gaze trailed up your arm, your body, and fixated onto your seemingly innocent face. Your face was rested and gentle, your eyes still staring up at him with adoration and desperation. If it weren't for the blood that painted your whole body and surroundings red, he would have found comfort in your presence.

"I did this.." You ran your fingers along your fresh wounds, not once wincing or drawing back in discomfort. "For you."

You continued, a sick sweetness in your voice. "Jus' wanted to show you how much I love you.. You've been leaving me so lonely, Mello." You frowned. "It was only a matter of time before I had to do something. And now you're finally here.. And you won't leave me again."

#mello x reader #mello x y/n #mihael keehl #death note fanfiction #death note #death note mello #death note near #death note angst #angst prompts #angst dialogue prompts #angst #sh tw #tw s/h #yandere mello #mello yandere #death note yandere #death note oneshot #death note imagines #rattyoakenbitch

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elysianslove · 4 years

Note

hihi, can I request smth! Idk of this comply to your request rules cause I can't find it in your blog (sorry!!) The request is hc with Atsumu, Kuroo and Iwaizumi with an s/o that is considered a bitch by people. Like they don't let anyone walk all over them, people are scared of them but admire them esp in terms of academics but they're actually v loving and a big clumsy mess.

hii!! yeah i don’t really have a set of rules for requesting mainly cause i couldn’t think of any haha, but your request is more than okay! i’ve been obsessing nonstop over atsumu especially recently, and today wasn’t the best of days for me, so this was nice to write heh. thank you for requesting it. i hope you enjoy <3

miya atsumu

atsumu is obsessed w you

seriously, he is just enamored by you. the way you hold your ground and always stand up for yourself, never letting anyone saying anything about you pass by you, your presence so intimidating. he loves it so much. he’s especially fond of the way you’re not even a bitch, you’re just confident in who you are, and everything you’re good at.

he observes from afar at first, the way people shrink in comparison to you regardless of your height. your aura just seems so. powerful? he really wants to approach you, and because this is miya atsumu, the first thought that crosses his mind is this person needs to be mine <3 no he will not take criticism.

so he does. approaches you, introduces himself in a way like you’re already meant to know who he is and he’s just doing you a favor. his heart breaks into tiny little pieces when you just go, “sorry, but no.”

like literally just that you don’t go in detail or anything. you just reject him so plain and simple it’s actually worse than a full fledged out angry rejection. osamu’s so impressed he ready to have you added to his future will.

he grows on you, though, over time. atsumu’s so quitter, and your rejection had only spurred him on. he would’ve backed off, because is a consent king, as they all are and should be, but you’re always so prepared with a quip back at him and you never actually push him away. it’s like a flirty game of tug of war between you two. eventually, he asks you out again, and just for old time’s sake, you jokingly say no lmao. all blood drains from his face that you actually kinda feel bad.

generally, he’s very proud to have you as his s/o. he himself has dealt with people constantly being put off by him and his attitude, so to see you deal with it so well is kind of? encouraging? uplifting? yk?

he also likes how people are both scared of you and admire you. like. he relates to them! you’re incredible!

he’s always snickering when he sees a student approach you literally trembling like a leaf and asks for your help in something academics related. you always say yes, which is something that just. pinches at his heart. the student is also always so surprised at the fact that you’re willing to help. god. atsumu will never have enough of their reactions to you.

when you grow more comfortable with each other, and he discovers what you’re truly like, the person you really are beneath, atsumu just straight up falls in love. he didn’t think you could be any more perfect for him, honestly.

he’s loves the way people are so intimidated by you but he knows that just a few minutes ago you were doodling little hearts in his notebook.

a part of him wants so many more people to be aware that sometimes you can trip over air, and that you’re not as elegant and stoic as everyone thinks you are, but then he’s reminded of the fact that only he knows you’re truly like this, and he shakes that part of him off. atsumu genuinely adores knowing this additional, secret part of you. he doesn’t think you’re fake at all for having what’s seemingly a facade. he just thinks not enough people know what you’re truly like, and that you’re a gem, truly.

he’s also like weirdly obsessed with the two of you as a couple? he knows people are intimidated by him, and it’s so painfully obvious people are intimidated by you. he just. eats that shit up.

he’d also be really supportive if it ever gets to you. super ready to fight anyone. he’ll always tell you “these fake bitches don’t matter babe we the only real ones 😼💯” god havejkdkd

anyways i been fantasizing about having miya atsumu as my bf somebody help im going insane

kuroo tetsurō

kuroo knows of you. everybody does. you’re like, exceptionally good at being one of the most talked about people and also being the most mysterious person in school. the duality has him heart eyes for you.

what probably catches his attention is the way people talk about you, in general, but specifically regarding academics. he overhears a group of people like whispering to each other about you while you’re just standing there minding your own business. they’re just encouraging one of them to approach you and kuroo’s like hm ! let me butt in bc why not !

as a joke, he slides up next to you and points at the group of students and whispers, “they’re talking about you.”

this obviously ticks you off and without looking back you stomp over to the students and just go, “if you have something to say about me say it to my face!” and kuroo’s just watching like ,,, damn that’s hot. the students are so confused and ten times more scared than they first were and one of them just squeaks out that they only wanted to ask for help and you just , “oh. okay! :D.” kuroo’s just ,,, he’s losing his damn mind.

he finds you really interesting, honestly, the way you’re just so strong? like mentally especially. you’re really mature, and you have a strong sense of self. he admires that about you, and continues to love that even when you start dating.

he does ask you out, and he’s a little surprised you said yes, he’s not gonna lie. but you did, from the first time, and he just took you out to a simple picnic date. it was very cute, and the whole time he made you laugh and you were a completely different person than what he had first seen and expected.

he really likes the fact that you’re really confident in yourself in that you won’t let anyone step on you or walk all over you. like he just loves watching you hand someone’s ass to them because they decided they wanted to make a smart comment about you. seriously, he’s insanely in love with it.

he realizes pretty quick that the only reason people are so thrown off by you or are scared to approach you is because no one really gives you a chance to be yourself? like they’re always expecting the worst from you, having heard all these terrible things about you that half aren’t even true, that they don’t even bother trying to get to know you. and that fact really bothers him a lot, he’s not gonna lie, because he believes you’re the best person he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting.

he really loves that you don’t let it bother you though. he’s impressed with how it doesn’t matter if some friends turn out fake, because, in your words, “good riddance.”

the two of you kind of feed off each other’s energies? like he’s super confident in himself, and so are you, so you two only benefit each other in your presences.

to put it simply, kuroo is incredibly impressed with who you are as a person, and it warms his heart so much how you’re so incredible of a person in so many ways, in that you neither let anything pass you by, and in that you’re the cutest, kindest soul he knows.

iwaizumi hajime

brat tamer #1 <3

i think iwa genuinely doesn’t care. not about you! about the things people say. like he hears so many rumors about you and he’s like .... ok. oikawa’s always feeding them to him but he’s just? not bothered by it? doesn’t care? it’s irrelevant information for him anyways?

but then.

he walks past a scene where he sees you just destroying this poor kid. you’re verbally destroying him. the kid’s buried six feet under at this point. you’re not even yelling, but the guy’s shrinking under your gaze and your words and iwazumi’s so mesmerized by the way you do it so flawlessly. you don’t stutter because you’re so sure of your words and so confident in your stance. iwazumi. hums in approval. like. hm. good for them. as they should.

after that he starts paying more attention to anything he hears about you, because he wants to know more. he doesn’t know why. he just does. and then he hears all these different things like “they’re so good at everything they do they can’t be real” and “i would never speak to them if they were the last person on earth” like ? he’s so confused WHICH IS IT

so, because iwaizumi’s a pretty straightforward person, he approaches you.

do not confuse this though, because iwa is a blushing and flustered mess as he asks you to hang out. he’s never done this before, and this is not his style, but he’s just so interested in who you are as a person he was doing it before he realized it happened.

the way you react is so? sweet?

it’s so different than that day he saw you murdering that guy for talking smack, you seem so light and loving he actually feels his heart beat a little too fast in his chest.

as his s/o, iwaizumi likes that he can trust you with yourself. like a part of him will always have that protective side to him, because that’s just the person iwa is, and he’ll always feel the need to step up and speak for you. but another part of him is really amazed by the way you can and are so able of speaking up for yourself. he feels really proud at the lack of insecurity.

he also feels really smug about being with you. because he knows people are intimidated by him, and especially by you, but now that you’re together, he feels untouchable, and he knows you are too. he likes that feeling of power a little too much.

if you ever step out of line at some point, iwaizumi will definitely let you know. he’ll point it out, and if you resist, he knows how to get you down off the pedestal. he’s had brat taming training for years lmao

but he doesn’t think you’re a brat, not at all. in fact, he thinks you’re the sweetest person ever. he loves the versatility of your personality and attitude, in that you’re not just black and white and there’s so much more to you, there’s always grey in between. he likes that you’re endlessly dimensional and that he’s always learning something new about you.

he especially loves the side of you that’s so soft spoken. it’s so endearing to him how you’re one moment so angry you could murder someone in cold blood but then all of a sudden you’re pinching his cheeks and kissing the tip of his nose telling him how cute he is.

yeah iwa really loves you hehe <3

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu headcanons #atsumu x reader #atsumu headcanons #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo headcanons

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

Text

You Don’t Own Me (You Don’t Even Know Me)

Chapter 5

Summary: As the son of a Baron, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement rather than true love. Still, when he is sent away to marry an older, more powerful Earl, he is determined to make the best of his situation. Despite the Earl’s indifference towards him, Roman forges ahead and prepares to become the best husband he can possibly be, making new friends along the way. But when his fiancé’s demeanor turns from cold to cruel, Roman must shift all of his focus to survival, and find a way out of his marriage before it’s too late.

Ships: Logince (Logan x Roman) Moxiety (Virgil x Patton)

Content Warnings: arranged marriage, abuse, attempted sexual assault, murder, poisoning, character death, hurt/comfort, angst

Chapter Warnings: mentions of physical and emotional abuse, murder planning

Word Count: 2490

Read on AO3: here!

Cowritten with @ironwoman359 masterlist

False masterlist

Roman was not used to feeling small.

He was used to standing out, being loud, and carrying his shoulders with a confidence worthy of the title he held and the company he was expected to keep. Wherever he went, he knew he could always hold his head high.

Staring at his reflection now, he had to fight the urge to duck his head. His face was, quite simply, a mess. The cut from Lord Howard’s ring was small enough that Roman didn’t feel the need to bandage it, but the wound was slightly swollen, and his cheek was a truly shocking shade of purple.

Swallowing, Roman picked up a small compact that had been left on his vanity. He wasn’t in the habit of applying makeup, but when the supplies for doing so had appeared in his room overnight, the message he was being sent was quite clear. He wasn’t even sure whether he was sickened or relieved by the act, at this point. In some ways, it felt like another mark of ownership; the earl wanted him as perfect and pristine as ever, no matter what happened. But on the other hand, Roman wasn’t sure if he could stand to walk about the estate with the mark on full display like a brand.

Roman winced as he gingerly applied the powder to his face. It didn’t completely erase the injury’s appearance, but if he added some blush to the other cheek and styled his hair so it hung lower than usual, obscuring the bruise from the side...it was almost enough.

It would have to do for now.

Taking a deep breath, Roman exited his room and quickly made his way through the halls. He’d told Patton that he didn’t feel well this morning (which was not entirely untrue), and so he wasn’t expecting anyone to wonder where he was. After a few turns, he found himself standing before a door that he had never actually gone through before: the door to Logan’s office.

The office’s large door glistened with fresh wood polish and gave a pleasant, welcoming smell, though the scent actually only succeeded in making Roman’s nerves worse. He knew Logan would be on the other side, working on managing this set of numbers or that pile of letters even this early in the morning. Lightly touching the bruise across his cheek he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It had to be Logan- no one else. He trusted Patton with everything he had, but there was no telling how the loyal attendant would react. He knew Patton cared about him, but as kind and caring as he was, he was hardly a good actor. And Virgil was far from a snitch, but he was so wary of any sign of trouble that Roman didn’t want to burden him with this...at least not yet.

He had to be sure...he had to know he had even half a chance before letting the others in, and to have that chance, he needed Logan.

If Roman listened closely, he could hear him on the other side of the door, muttering softly to himself as he ran through whatever calculations he was scratching out with his favorite pen. Paper rustled every now and then and Roman could tell by the coolness of the hardwood floor just in front of the door that the window must be open. He stood a moment more, letting his mind’s eye follow the thought, picturing Logan’s long hair blowing softly across his shoulders as he sat hunched over his desk, glasses sitting just so on the bridge of his nose that Roman could probably reach forward and straighten them if he was quick enough.

Shaking the thought out of his head, he took a breath and knocked quickly, then without waiting for an answer, pushed the door open before he could lose his nerve.

Logan glanced up from his work, frowning slightly as Roman entered. His eyes widened when he saw Roman, and he stood so quickly that his chair screeched across the floor. Wincing at the sound, he smiled apologetically and gestured for Roman to take the seat in front of him.

“Roman, to what do I owe the pleasure this late in the evening?”

“I-” Roman’s throat ran dry, and his thoughts along with it. Logan was looking at him, worry etched across his brow and work forgotten, and Roman swallowed. “I need your help.”

“Certainly,” Logan said immediately. “How can I assist you?”

Sitting across from Logan now, Roman almost changed his mind. It seemed absurd to think that Logan would agree to what he had in mind...what if he had misjudged him? What if he had misinterpreted the withering looks Logan shot the earl when he thought no one was looking, what if he had placed too much faith in their budding friendship, and if Roman so much as breathed a word of his plan, Logan would be the first to warn Lord Howard?

“Roman? Are you alright?”

Logan’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Roman looked up. Logan was sitting patiently, nothing but concern and quiet understanding marking his features, and Roman suddenly didn’t know why he should be worried at all. He could trust this man- he was sure of it.

“I need your help taking control away from Lord Howard.”

Logan binked once, then twice, fiddling with a pen that lay in front of his hands before setting it down firmly and leaning forward. No sound came from his mouth when he opened it at first, snapping it shut to blink a third time, slow and deliberate while he gathered his thoughts. “I’m sorry?”

“I- I need your help, please Logan.” Roman leaned forward as the other man straightened back up, his attention fully caught. “The earl has his fingers in far too many pies...and I’m not even sure he remembers what all the flavors are. If last week's meeting was anything to go by he disregards anything that doesn’t directly benefit him and only him and I’m sure land isn’t the only thing he’s notoriously stubborn with. Look at the way he treats his staff, expecting them up day and night to serve him and his entertainment of the day, extending that to you and all the responsibilities he shoves to the side in his confidence that you’ll pick up the slack. I haven’t even been here for very long but I know you hardly sleep for all the work you do in his stead. He expects everyone around him to be the perfect picture of their roles to mask the fact that he cannot play his own and I cannot continue this betrothal and eventual marriage in a state of constant anxiety and silence. He isn’t...he isn’t a good man Logan.”

Pursing his lips, Logan held up a hand. “Roman, I still don’t know that I understand what you want me-”

“He isn’t a good man, Logan,” Roman interrupted. “You must see that.”

“Yes, but Roman, he- I don’t know what you’re asking of me. He has more power than he knows what to do with, true, and he certainly abuses it, but I’m not certain what you expect me to be able to do about taking it away. I manage his finances and remind him of meetings; I hardly have the reach to do anything substantial.”

“For people like him, money is his power, and you’re the one that takes care of that. How many times does he actually ask you about anything official? Does he ever want full accounts of where anything goes? You sign documents for him of all things because he believes himself too important and you’re going to sit there and say you have no weight to throw?”

“But I-”

Seeing the doubt, Roman was quick to lean forward. “What if we could control the estate? Actually control it, and make smart decisions for it and know what’s going in and out of it? Surely you of all people would jump at the opportunity to make the changes you know need to be made here.”

“Roman.” Logan fixed him with a stern look, and Roman snapped his mouth shut. “It’s a nice thought in theory. I’ve spent many nights worrying over things that truly should not be my responsibility, and have done enough research to present to the earl a myriad of solutions to his problems, should he ever decide he actually wants to listen to my counsel. But for us to be in control of the estate, the earl would have to be deceased.”

Roman stared at him blankly.

Logan’s eyes widened. “Roman that is not-”

Taking a deep breath, Roman brought up a hand to wipe at his face, the flesh colored powder smearing his sleeve to reveal the dark purple and red underneath. This time it was Logan that snapped his mouth shut, with an audible click. Horror, anger and worry flashed across his face, and Roman winced.

“It’s going to get worse. I know it and so do you. This is how it starts, especially once he has someone who officially belongs to him, and especially when that someone doesn’t just lie down and take it. I won’t. And so it will keep getting worse, and he will never be accountable until one of us finally has an accident. I am not going to let that one of us be me.”

Logan regarded him sadly, sighing as he lowered his gaze. “What you’re suggesting is extremely risky. Even if we could do something after you marry him, the fact of the matter is that this is the Howard family’s estate. And I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that the earl isn’t exactly...interested in making you an official member of the family in any capacity. If he were to pass away, the estate wouldn’t be bequeathed to you. You’d still have no control, and might honestly end up with less if his other family members decide not to tolerate your presence.”

“That’s where you come in.” Roman smirked, and Logan’s head snapped up. “I need your help to forge the will.”

--- --- ---

“Well that’s-”

“Excuse me, what?”

Roman fidgeted with his sleeve as Logan attempted to sooth Patton and Virgil long enough to allow them to explain. After getting Logan to agree to help him, Roman had immediately requested that they bring Patton and Virgil into the scheme. Roman was certain he could trust them, and Logan seemed to agree. They certainly wouldn’t be able to pull their plan off with only two of them. Getting Patton and Virgil to see the necessity in it, though...well that was the first hurdle they were trying to clear.

“It seems like a drastic measure to take, even with the lord’s uh...mood as of late.” Patton squirmed on the haystack he was curled up on, pointedly ignoring the baffled expression Virgil threw him.

“A drastic measure? You think? This is treason, Patton! We’ll be hanged!” Virgil turned to glare at the two men across from him. “We will be hanged. There has to be a better way.’

“We will have the will forged and officiated before the wedding, and then arrange it to look like his death was natural. As long as we can figure out a way to do that it’s a fairly simple process.” Logan held his hands in front of him in a pleading gesture. “Even if we can’t find a way to make it look natural, I assure you Lord Howard has enough enemies grabbing at his various businesses and properties that it’d be anyone’s guess who tried killing him off. Half of them would end up paying investigators off just to avoid any public suspicion, it is almost guaranteed that no one would expect Roman to be the culprit.”

Virgil stared at him. “You’ve thought this through. Logan, why have you thought this through?”

Patton reached over and grabbed Virgil’s hand, rubbing soothing motions against his knuckles while humming softly. Virgil’s shoulders remained tense but he leaned against the attendant's shoulder, taking a shuddering breath as he raised his eyes to the ceiling.

“I think...” Patton said slowly. “I think that maybe while we have this opportunity we should take it. Not that I take any pride in using you Roman!” He was quick to assure. “But- I’ve seen the way he gets...and how he is getting. People like that only worsen with age, and I’d rather not see any of us hurt...more.”

Roman touched his cheek self-consciously, trying to subtly cover up the spot where he had wiped the make-up off, but of course fooling no one. Patton glanced away but Virgil’s gaze only hardened, squeezing the other man’s hand and swearing under his breath.

“I guess....I guess all of us here- everyone at the estate really- would benefit from him not being in charge. It’s still incredibly risky.” Here Virgil glared daggers at Logan and Roman specifically. “But I think with the right people...the right poison maybe, it could work.”

“Do you have a suggestion?” Logan asked curiously.

“Not me, but I know people that might. What are we thinking the time table will be for this?”

Roman perked up as they all looked at him. “Well...it might be a good idea to carry it out a good while after the wedding. If it happens immediately after, it would look a lot more suspicious than if we waited.”

Logan frowned. “But Roman-”

“Logan, you know I’m right.” Roman startled a bit at the sheer amount of concern he saw in Logan’s eyes, but gave him a small smile as reassurance. “I’ll be fine until then.”

“Well,” Both of their heads snapped around to face Virgil again, neither acknowledging the slight pink in their cheeks. “If we’re waiting that long that’s plenty of time for me to get in contact with my guys and figure something out. Really it shouldn’t be too hard.”

Patton made a small noise in the back of his throat. “Um, exactly what kind of guys, Virgil?”

Virgil laughed outright. “Oh, total degenerates for sure! But they’re also both idiots, and that didn’t change when they set up their apothecary, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

“So it’s set then? We’re doing this?” Roman couldn’t help the hopeful edge to his tone, and he immediately felt a stab of guilt.

What would his friends think of him now, so eager to take such a drastic measure? But a quick glance at their faces revealed only sympathy and determination, and he forced himself to breathe. There was a reason he’d come to these three specifically, and now he had to trust that he’d made the right call.

“Yes.” Logan said, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze, and Roman felt himself relax. “We are.”

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#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logince #moxiety #you dont own me #ydom

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bbangsoonie · 4 years

Text

just u

member: sunwoo genre: fluff word count: 1,903 synopsis: sunwoo thinks you’re a flirty drunk but doesn’t notice you only flirt with him.

a/n: oc’s facial flush after drinking alcohol is mentioned once in the fic

Eric: giant sleepover at hyunjae’s tonight

Hyunjae: this is news to me ??

Eric: be prepared to pull an all-nighter because we are doing everything from watching movies to playing games to ✨drinking✨

Sangyeon: his house is also my house ???

Eric: y/n, can you pick up some snacks and drinks with sunwoo?

You: sure

Sunwoo: this is news to me as well ?

Eric: see you all at 6! i know no one has classes today and tomorrow’s saturday so i expect full attendance :)

Juyeon: again, our house is not just solely hyunjae’s ???? younghoon and i live here as well ;-;

Eric’s impromptu gathering was in no way organized but he knew everyone would go along with it. Your group of friends consisted of the most spontaneous people you’ve ever met. They were always down for anything, anytime.

That was how you ended up going grocery shopping with Sunwoo and Haknyeon after you stopped by campus for your professor’s office hours. You ran into Haknyeon there who wanted to tag along to make sure you bought his favorite snacks.

“Any requests for chasers?” you called out to the boys who were an aisle away. You scanned the shelves of sodas in front of you, trying to recall who liked what drinks.

“Chasers are for babies,” Haknyeon scoffed as he made his way over to you.

“I’m baby,” you proudly pointed at yourself.

“Are you referring to the Kirby meme right now?” he blinked. When you nodded, he pretended to gag, making you slap his back.

“Do you guys think this is enough alcohol?” Sunwoo arrived with a cart full of bottles. You almost laughed at the amount of cases. Anyone passing by would think you were shopping wholesale. Which honestly didn’t sound like a bad idea for a group of 12.

“Should be,” Haknyeon shrugged, taking over the cart. “Now time for the good stuff!”

You and Sunwoo watched as he threw in bags of chips and jelly into the cart. You only picked out one or two for yourself since Haknyeon was essentially just getting everything. There was a wide variety for you to choose from anyway. Sunwoo had to physically stop him from adding more stuff, insisting that there’d be dinner as well.

With Hyunjae in charge of ordering food, it was no surprise that you walked into his house smelling like chicken. Eric greeted you from the kitchen and you hollered out a “hey” before joining Changmin and Chanhee in the living room. They were in the middle of an intense round of Super Smash Bros and by the looks of it, Changmin was winning. When the game finally ended, Changmin shrieked with laughter while Chanhee dejectedly collapsed onto the sofa.

Jacob and Kevin walked in not long after, exchanging greetings with everyone else. Sangyeon, Juyeon, and Younghoon emerged from the staircase after finishing their assignments upstairs in their own respective rooms. With the whole group together, Eric gathered you all in front of the TV to have a Super Smash Bros tournament.

“Only people who suck at playing games pick Kirby,” he yelled as you picked up a controller.

“I do admit I suck at games and love Kirby,” you stuck your tongue out as you chose your character, making Chanhee groan.

“All you do is spam down b!” Kevin whined.

“Well no one wants to teach me other moves or how to play other characters,” you shrugged.

“I tried,” Hyunjae sighed. “You’re an impossible student.”

“That’s because everyone kills me off while I try to learn!” you huffed.

To your amusement, you won the game by avoiding everyone in the air while they battled amongst themselves. Then you constantly attacked Younghoon with the same move until he eventually died. He screamed in frustration when your victory flashed across the screen.

Unfortunately for you, everyone decided to target you in the beginning for the next round. After easily finishing you off, they enjoyed what they called a “true fight” that Eric ultimately won.

The long night officially began with the mountain of boxes of chicken in the kitchen. It was easily demolished before Changmin won rock, paper, scissors to put a horror movie on. Before the film was even chosen, Sunwoo was complaining about how he hated jump scares.

“Bro just say you’re afraid and move on,” Eric snickered.

“I’m not scared! I just don’t like being surprised,” Sunwoo insisted.

“Pft, if you’re a true man you can watch it,” Chanhee teased, unaware of his embarrassment to come.

The next couple of hours was chaotic. Chanhee screamed at every noise, making everyone else scream as well. Haknyeon and Sunwoo ended up watching the movie with their ears closed and Jacob gave up entirely by trying to nap instead. You had the unfortunate seat next to Younghoon and became his ragdoll that he clung onto and shook every time he got frightened. You didn’t even get to react to the movie because he kept screaming and grabbing onto you.

Eric and his mischievous instincts spent the whole time trying to startle Juyeon who ended up chasing him around until he promised to stop. Changmin, Sangyeon, Hyunjae, and Kevin were the only ones who truly enjoyed the movie.

When the lights came back on, Chanhee and Sunwoo pretended that it wasn’t scary at all. Hyunjae laughed, reminding them of their reactions to which they feigned oblivion to.

“I need a drink,” you groaned. “Younghoon stressed me out more than the ghost did.”

“Everyone go slow and steady,” Eric warned. “I want to be playing until the sun comes up.”

“My body is too old for this,” Sangyeon mumbled as he began taking the alcohol out of the fridge.

“Hey, Y/n, can you pass me a bottle?” Sunwoo asked. You felt your heart skip a beat when his fingers brushed past yours to take the drink from your hands. The exchange made you blush and you quickly took a shot to mask your tinted cheeks with the flush of the liquor.

Spending the night with your friends meant that you would be spending it trying hard to not fall in love with your budding crush. You tried your best to keep a safe distance from him, relying on Chanhee to be your trusty barrier.

After a series of drinking games (that mostly resulted in your loss), you were beginning to feel the effects. With Chanhee and Haknyeon by your side, you were slightly swinging in your seat. You were all sitting on the floor in the spacious living room to start whatever game Hyunjae had suggested. His words had gone in and out of your ears while you were finishing your last punishment drink.

“So basically one person will ask another person a question and that person will say their answer out loud. The answer has to be the name of someone in this room. Those who are curious about the question will drink to hear it,” Hyunjae explained.

“Can I go first?” Kevin excitedly asked. With the majority agreeing, he happily went up to Jacob to whisper in his ear.

After hearing his question, Jacob thought for a second before saying your name. The boys teasingly “ooh”ed, making you roll your eyes. Sunwoo, Eric, and Changmin were the only ones curious enough to drink for the answer.

“Aw, Y/n, you don’t wanna know why he picked you?” Kevin pouted.

“By the look on your face, I think I get the gist,” you chuckled. “Any questions involving girls only leaves me as an option. And to be brutally honest, I don’t really care what he thinks of me.”

Jacob, faking pain, clutched his heart.

“Ouch,” he joked.

Jacob asked his question to Younghoon, who answered with your name again. This time, you were slightly intrigued.

“Me again for the second time in a row? Now I’m kinda curious,” you pretended to think hard.

Eric drank again and eagerly asked for Jacob’s question. Trying to elicit a response from you, he acted shocked and grabbed Younghoon by the collar. Laughing, you gave in and drank to hear the question.

“He thinks you’re gonna be the first to get cuffed,” Jacob whispered to you.

“Ah, unfortunately no,” you shook your head at Younghoon, sitting back down.

This time, Younghoon asked you a question. He asked who you would date if you had to choose from the friend group.

“Sunwoo,” you said almost immediately. His jaw dropped at how fast you made your decision and he gave you a smug look.

Again, Eric couldn’t hide his curiosity. His reaction made the rest of them interested and everyone ended up drinking to find out what Younghoon had asked you. Hyunjae hooted but the alcohol in your system left you unphased by all their teasing.

After their excitement died down, the game continued until each person had a turn. It ended with Eric drunk crying thanks to Juyeon picking him as his most cherished friend. Seeing him cry made Sunwoo cry as well and Changmin was having a blast laughing at them both.

Not wanting Sunwoo to also turn into a crying drunk, Sangyeon took his cup away from him. He reminded him to keep his pace, prompting him to sulk. As soon as Sangyeon looked away, however, Sunwoo stole it back and downed the rest of his drink.

“Sunwoo, no,” Sangyeon groaned.

“Sunwoo yes!” Sunwoo exclaimed with glee.

The group then split off into subgroups to take a break from drinking. You, Younghoon, Juyeon, Changmin, Sunwoo, and Eric propped a phone up to make TikToks together. Meanwhile, the rest of the boys were just chilling on the couch, laughing as they watched you embarrass yourselves.

Subconsciously, you ended up with your arm wrapped around Sunwoo’s neck for most of the stupid 15 second video. You honestly weren’t sure what you were filming or why you were so close to your crush but you were having too much fun to care.

Chanhee, on the other hand, definitely noticed. He smirked as you rested your head on Sunwoo’s lap and Sunwoo’s face reddened. He nudged Jacob to point it out and made fun of how oblivious you two were.

Before reconvening, you stepped outside to get some fresh air. When you didn’t return after 10 minutes, Sunwoo was sent to retrieve you. You lit up seeing him join you on the veranda and beckoned for him to sit down next to you.

“It’s cold out here,” he said. “Let’s go back in.”

“So then you should hold my hand to keep me warm,” you giggled, holding out your hand.

“You’re drunk,” he commented as he raised an eyebrow.

“Drunk on you,” you winked, making him shyly look away. He cleared his throat to rid himself of the awkward tension between you.

“You know, you’re a flirty drunk,” he mused.

“Only to you,” you shrugged. “Haven’t you ever heard of drunk actions reflecting sober thoughts?”

Taken aback, he stared at you in silence. You pouted at his lack of response and got up to go back inside. Before you could open the door, he finally spoke up.

“I’ll think about it if your sober actions reflect your drunk thoughts,” he said.

“Really?” you beamed.

“As long as your drunk self is only flirty with me,” he teased.

“Oh please, have you ever seen me like this with the other guys?” you laughed. “I only like you. Just you.”

#the boyz #sunwoo #the boyz sunwoo #the boyz fluff #sunwoo fluff #the boyz sunwoo fluff #tbz fluff #tbz sunwoo #the boyz fic #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #sunwoo fic #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo imagines #tbz fic #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 4 years

Text

I’m On Fire [Chapter 2]

With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

Chapter Summary: Y/N and Spencer start to put a plan together.

A/N: I’ve got a head cold at the mo’ but I had to get a covid test just in case so I’m not allowed leave my room till I get the results! So enjoy a bonus chapter while I wallow on my own for like 36 hours :( On a positive note, thank you guys all so much for the response to chapter 1 I really didn’t see that coming! I’ve tagged everyone who asked, let me know if you wanna be added

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby

Warnings: Cursing, some NSFW language/themes

Word Count: 6.1k

Previous Chapter -- Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

"Are you coming up or what?"

The question was still ringing in my ears. It caught me completely off guard. 'Up' as in up to Spencer's apartment? Where he lived? I knew he lived somewhere in theory, just like I knew deep down that he wasn't made in a test tube.

Without noticing I've undone my seatbelt and I'm hopping out of the car, following him around to the front door. I guess I am coming up.

Spencer's apartment is more cosy than I thought it was going to be. It's warm and lived in. It's not big, but I think that might be what makes it homely. Something about the way he behaves had me thinking it would be fully decked out in stainless steel or glass or something. But it wasn't pristine, it was messy.

There were books bursting from the shelves that lined the walls of the apartment, along with books laid open over nearly every surface in the place, it looked like he was in the middle of reading all of them, and honestly, I didn't doubt it. Maybe I'd misjudged him. He even had some photos of what looked like his family, and maybe friends, even some of the BAU, lining his walls or propped up on his mantle. He had little trinkets and souvenirs on his shelves too, evidence that he'd been around the country for reasons other than a case. I would never admit it to him but there was a real charm to the place.

Once we got inside he took off his bag and suit jacket, tossing them on the desk just inside of the door. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, and he seemed to pick up on my awkward energy.

"You can make yourself at home" he said, his confident streak remaining. I had no idea what to do with that. What would even make me comfortable in Spencer Reid's apartment? I took a seat on his sofa and just sat with my hands resting in my lap. Really not even sure where I should look without feeling like I was invading his privacy. Even though I wanted to. I think it was morbid curiosity, looking for clues on who this man might actually be outside of the BAU. What I really wanted to do was stand up and walk around, soaking in every bit if this place as if it would help me decipher our messy relationship.

He returned to the living room a few moments later, two mismatched mugs in his hands. He places one in front of me on the coffee table. I pick it up and take a sip. It's lemon and ginger, how did he know what kind of tea I liked? I held the mug in my hands inhaling the steam in an effort to relax. When I look up he's watching me, arms folded across his chest.

"So, how does this thing work. What's the game plan?" I honestly have no real idea. This evening really got away from me, I was still expecting to snap out of it and wake up in my bed at any moment.

"Well I can't say I've ever been in a Sandra Bullock movie before either so this is uncharted territory for me too" I say with a chuckle, trying to ease the tension. Even a little. I can see him crack a small smile but hides it almost instantly, his face hardening again.

"My sister, Margot, she's getting married in like 4 months." I can feel myself tense and I shake out my shoulders, I have to remind myself that he's agreed to this already, "Fuck it, I'm just going to be honest with you. My Mom's mostly freaked out that I'm too attached to this job and that I'll just never find someone again." I shouldn't have said again, fuck. I hope he didn't pick up on that. Who am I kidding. "Even though, I'm not sure I care if I do or don't?" he doesn't say anything, like he's waiting for me to continue. I know I've shared a little too much already but I keep going.

"Margot's 2 years younger than me, I introduced her to her fiancé Philip, we met in college, he's a sweetheart. But since they've gotten engaged Mom's gotten exponentially weirder. I think she's convinced I'm fully going to die alone, as if that would be the worst thing that could ever happen? Anyway, she's been trying to auction me off to all these guys, using this wedding as an excuse. I'm not sure how much of that phone call you actually heard earlier but Mom was trying to sell me on this guy, David, and I just… snapped." I look up at Spencer and he unfolds his arms, leaning in ever so slightly coaxing the story out of me.

"David, he uh, he worked for my father for a while back in high school, filing documents and stuff, busy work mostly. He used to make out with me when he was at our house after school, but then he'd ignore me in the halls the next morning. I know it's because I was a pariah back then or something but I didn't want to think about it today and I just got worked up. I shouldn't have let on that you were my date, I was just going to ask if I could bring Garcia or something, and I'm sorry." I cover my face in my hands, "I'm insane, you can back out if you want to."

I can hear him move from his spot on the opposite side of the sofa, he takes my wrists and gently pulls my hands from my face. He looks into my eyes, "I'm in this now Y/N, what do you need me to do?" he asks, and there's a genuine earnest in his voice that I think I've only ever heard a handful of times. And it's never been directed at me.

"Okay, well we've got a few months before you ha–, wait, fuck!" I throw my head back, there's already a complication, "shit" I curse under my breath. His eyebrows knit together, sitting upright.

"What's the matter?" he asks.

"I forgot about my Mom's 50th, it's next month. They've got this whole huge party planned back home in upstate New York. I've gotta go and they'll probably want to meet you, or they're gonna have a load of questions for me at least. I can try and get you out of it I'm sure"

He gets that cocky look again, he shakes his head "I don't know, I've always liked a bit of competition" he reclines back into his corner of the sofa, taking a satisfied sip from his own mug before speaking again. "You know, if I've got to learn enough to pass as your boyfriend in a month, surely that means you've got to learn enough to pass as my girlfriend within the month, no?"

Oh god. What have I done, why didn't I think this far ahead. "I mean, yeah I guess you're right." I had to remember he was doing me a favor. I had to get over myself. "Okay, if you're sure you're up for that?" I ask, and he nods, and I think he looks excited, or maybe he just finds the whole situation funny.

"If anyone's up for the competition it's you" he says, and I'm not sure if that's a compliment or a dig but I nod in agreement.

He takes another sip of his tea, collected and relaxed. I can't help but notice how at ease he is when he's in his own surroundings. I'm so used to seeing him sitting at a desk surrounded by paperwork, or combing through file after file in the make-shift office in a small-town police station, usually flustered or anxious, or antagonizing me whenever he wasn’t. This was a different Spencer. Completely in control, at ease.

"Alright, shall we get started then, we can't really afford to waste any time can we?" he was actually sort of right, so I nodded. It was only now occurring to me that I'd have to share parts of my personal life with him if I wanted this plan to work. We already knew the basics about each other, I'd read his file when I started at the BAU, I'd read everyones. And I feel like it was safe to presume he'd done the same.

His eyes bore directly into mine as he leaned forward, I think he was enjoying how uncomfortable I must've looked.

"How about I ask you some rapid-fire questions and you have to answer 'em?" he asks, and it's as good of a plan as any, and I can't think of any other suggestions, so I nod.

"Okay, shoot." I say, unsure and nervous, so I brace myself. I'm just grateful that he's making my life easier rather than harder for what feels like the first time since I met him.

I really should've known better.

He leans in, "So Y/N, first question, when did you lose your virginity?"

I almost choke on the mouthful of tea I just took, that can't be what he just asked, and he looks like he's savoring my shocked expression.

"I uh, I don't think you need to know that?" is all I can get out.

"Really? You think that's something your boyfriend wouldn't know about you?" he's right, but I didn't want to admit it outright.

"I feel like I sort of already hinted. It was that same guy David, I was 18, he was 19. We had sex on the couch while my parents went out one evening. I kept my bra on the whole time, he came, I didn't. It was all very standard stuff." I wasn't sure what compelled me to add that last part. I think I was giving in to the open honestly thing. "So what about you Doc?" I challenged.

He didn't seem embarrassed, or even shy. "I must've bloomed little later than you" he admits with a soft chuckle, "Vivian Stewart, I was 21, she was too. It was the last semester of my last PhD and I figured I must be missing out on something. And I sure was" he smirks to himself. "I came, she did too, 3 times. I did a lot of research ahead of time" he mirrored my story and I rolled my eyes. It was hard not to feel a little impressed but I tried with everything I had to stifle it so he couldn't tell. I wish it didn't make me feel something but it did. I gulp down the mouthful of tea that's been sitting in my throat.

I have to shake myself back to reality. I can't give him the satisfaction of throwing me. "My turn." I command, "When was your last relationship Dr. Reid?" I ask, "I mean like, serious one, not like hook-up" I clarify before he can ask. He thinks on it for a moment.

"I'm not sure what you classify as fully serious, but I guess it was this girl, Rebecca, we dated for a while when I first joined the BAU but it didn't work out. What about you?" he flips it back.

"So that was what, like 6-ish years ago?" I ask, he just nods.

"Mine was like 3 years ago now I think. I met this guy Nathan on my first week of college, we dated for like 4 years. He moved here for me when I got accepted by the BAU." I had to stop myself from delving into the detail. It was a long time ago now but it still hurt. "Long story short, the hours were demanding and they got in the way more than I would've liked. We ended up splitting a couple months after I got the job." I tried to play it off like it wasn't one of the more devastating things to happen in my life. But something told me he’d registered that, so he didn't push.

His energy picks up and he looks at me with a grin, but there's something a little sinister behind it. "I've got a more fun question for you." he leans in closer to me, "Y/N, when was the last time you got laid?" I just looked at him in shock.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, I can go first if you really need me to?" his voice didn't waver,

"Fuck you Reid, I know when it was!" I snapped back at him. I did have to think back a little farther than I'd like to pull up the memory.

"Met this guy in a bar when I was out with Pen one night, we went back to his place and hooked up." I say as deadpan as I can make it.

"Well that's not very exciting is it?" he jokes, "Did you at least cum that time?" I know he's just trying to rile me up, but I answer anyway.

"As a matter of fact I did" I earn back a little of my confidence.

"I'm so happy for you, but you did manage to avoid my initial question" fuck "when was this exciting night of yours Y/N?" he probes, like I really, really wished he wouldn't. I could lie, but I'm sure he'd be able to tell. I cringe before I can say it.

"About 8 months ago" I mutter, just low enough for him to hear.

"Sorry, did you just say 8 months ago?" He nearly shouts in disbelief, he seems to find it funny.

"Hey fuck you Spencer!" I go on the defensive, "When was the last time you even got laid?"

"Like two and half weeks ago" he says, confident, and still laughing, "Wait wait, when was the last time you got yourself off? I know you're not waiting 8 months!" he giggles and I think I could kill him. I know I kept giving him outs but was it too late for me to just get up and leave?

"I'm not doing this with you if you're just gonna make fun of me Reid, I get enough of that at work" I get out, my voice is serious but I'm trying to hide how awkward all of this is making me feel, and I don't know that I'm doing a very good job.

I can tell that's gotten to him, he relaxes and eases up on the giggling. "Look okay wait Y/N. I'll stop, I'm not actually trying to make fun of you. I was being serious, I think stuff like this is important if we're gonna have to be comfortable around each other enough to seem like a real couple. Plus, it'll just help break the ice?" he shrugs. "But you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

I soften, because I agree, even thought I hate that he's right. "Fine" I collect my thoughts, "2 nights ago I'm pretty sure." I regret it almost instantly, but breaking the ice is supposed to feel awkward.

"Same here actually," he chuckles, "what'd you do?" I'm so startled by the question I almost forget how to answer.

"I, uh, my, my vibrator? I just felt like uh, I watched some..." I still can't force out a whole sentence. It's not like I was always awkward about sex or anything, I could talk to Garcia, or honestly probably any of the other team members about it. But with Spencer it didn't feel as comfortable. He still sat calmly, smiling just a little.

"Same here, 2 nights back, but with my hands I guess. I wonder if we were doing it at the same time?" he mutters the last part gently and my head goes a bit fuzzy. My eyes drift away from his face and settle on his hands, the mug he's holding looks so tiny with his fingers wrapped around it, I wondered how they'd look wrapped around my-

"Okay I think that's enough for one night, don't you think?" I jump up off the sofa and turn, mostly so that he doesn't catch the blush thats creeping from my neck up to my cheeks. And because I don't know what I'll say, or regret saying, if this conversations continues on its current trajectory.

"Sure," he says, standing up next to me, and I want to move further away instantly, "you're probably right, and it's getting a little late now anyway" he glances at his watch. Ushering me back towards his front door and opening it up. Before I can walk out he lightly touches my shoulder to turn me back to face him, and I wonder if he can feel the heat radiating from every part of me.

"So are you free next Friday after work?" he asks, and I'm so flustered I almost forget why, I just nod. "Perfect, how about we come here again and we can dive into preparing? You could also make a start on getting these onto a hard drive?" he gestures to the antique looking hardbacks adorning the shelves.

'Sounds great!" I perk up, feigning enthusiasm, "See you then!"

"Well, see you Monday morning actually Y/N" he smirks as I walk out the door. Fuck, he was right.

I really hadn't thought this through.

——

The weekend was a bit of a blur. I decided to try and put some useful information into a document for Spencer. It felt strange to try and condense my life into as few pages as possible. I knew Reid had an eidetic memory, and nothing would necessarily overwhelm him. But I also knew that he was someone that the team relied on to fill in a lot of the gaps in the rest of the our knowledge. So I felt bad about dumping a load of information on him, especially considering it was a favor he was doing for me.

I'd complied the majority of my life into a 15 page document and printed it out. Hopefully that would address most of what my family could guerrilla attack him with. There was also something unsettling about the imbalance. I was going to give him so many of the intricate details of my life in a little file, whereas all I really knew about Spencer was what I'd taken it upon myself to learn about him throughout the past few years.

I'd read all of his work while I was in college, given how he was the gold standard of getting into the BAU at a young age, I wanted to know who this guy was. I think I'd pictured something different. And I couldn't deny there was something enticing about finally getting to know him after all of these years of working together. Maybe this could actually be fun, or interesting at least.

----

I arrived early on Monday morning. I thought I was first into the office as usual but Garcia was sitting in my desk chair waiting for me. The second she saw me walk in she tensed, she must've known we were the only people in this early.

"What happened! You've been avoiding me all weekend?" she asked, and she was right. I'd drafted enough texts to her, trying to explain what the plan was, mostly without wanting to admit that she was right. Maybe I was stubborn.

"Alright okay, I drove Reid home." I admitted, dropping my bag by my desk. She rolls her eyes at me, dramatic as always.

"Well I knew that already Y/N damn! What happened next?"

"Fine, we went into his apartment and talked for a while. Trying to sort out the details, get a handle on things I guess?" I said, unsure of how much I should actually give away about our conversation.

"What things!?" She shouts, standing up from my desk,

"I don't know Pen, like logistics and stuff, I still haven't decided how I feel about that little stunt you pulled on Friday night!" I let my frustration get the better of me, and maybe that's why I haven't talked to her. It could also be because I know she's able to read me like a book and I'm not even sure how I feel about this whole situation.

"I call bullshit." She counters, "I know you were relived as hell when I sorted that whole thing out. You would've had anxiety tummy all weekend if I hadn't called Spencer!" I just go silent, she was right. I'd gotten so caught up in the whole, 'how to have a fake boyfriend' that I'd almost forgotten about how stressed I was about Spencer hearing my call in the first place.

"Okay, shit" I sigh. "Maybe you were right Pen. We're actually meeting up again this Friday after work to make a plan for the next while, so I guess that's progress?" I shrug, trying to play it off like this whole situation doesn't make my stomach flip.

"Ohhhhh! So like a date?" She probes, her enthusiasm rising drastically.

"Oh my God Pen no! Like an appointment at best" I diffuse the situation

"Ugh that's no fun" she says, not even trying to disguise her disappointment.

As if on cue Dr. Reid walks through the double doors into the bullpen. Both Garcia and I wave, overall awkwardly, but making an attempt pretend like things were completely normal and like nothing had changed since the last time we were all in the office together.

Penelope heads to her office as the bullpen starts to fill up quickly. Less than an hour later though Garcia's back at my desk and there's a new case that needs the teams attention in Boston. I follow her into the conference room and wait for the rest of the team to join. Spencer follows a moment later with 2 cups of coffee in his hands. I can see my mug in his hand and my automatic response is that he's messing with me. But he places my mug in front of me in the circular table before taking the seat next to me, listening to Garcia's briefing. I don't know if he's ever sat next to me in this conference room, at least not by choice.

I barely had any time to finish my coffee before I have to say goodbye to Garcia and hop on the jet to Boston.

----

The case was grueling. More so than usual. It was wrapped up late on Thursday night and the team decided to fly back home first thing on Friday morning. I was exhausted. Even if there was enough time to get sleep each night it wasn't like I got any. Whenever a case got on top of me like this it made it hard to rest, or get it off my mind at all until it was wrapped up. So even though it was over, that didn't mean I wasn't exhausted.

Hotch gave the team the rest of the day off, given that we have until submit our paperwork by Monday. I wasn't sure if Spencer's invitation from the following week still stood. I didn't want to ask, partly because I was so tired, but also because I was scared. I wasn't about to show up at his house in an effort to have a heart to heart, or hand him a condensed version of my life story on a manilla envelope if he was as drained as I was.

Standing by my desk I packed up everything I'd need to get my paperwork done over the weekend, I was just about finished when Spencer snuck up behind me, perching himself on the edge of my desk. "So, you almost ready to go?" he asks, like it's the most obvious question in the world. I couldn't really hide my surprise.

"Oh yeah. That's fine, I mean, if you're still cool with that?" I ask, and I hate how flustered I sound, like he makes me nervous.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" He chuckles, standing up straight.

"Cool, gimme a sec and I'll be good to go."

I pack up the rest of my stuff quickly and we make our way out. There's something that feels a little eerie about the two of us being in an elevator together alone again. It was a different kind of awkward to how it felt a week before hand. It almost felt like a kind of tension rather than a hatred or a rivalry. Either way we rode down in silence.

Once we got to the basement Spencer walks out of the elevator and walks straight to my car without having to ask. I unlock it and he hops into the passenger seat. Like this is a natural interaction. Something we do all the time. And I don't hate it as much as I thought I would.

"So," he says, buckling up his seat belt and breaking the silence, "do you know how to get to my place from here or do you need directions again?"

"Well I've got to turn on the engine first" I tease, hoping he picks up on the reference to our last car ride, he chuckles like he does.

"Are you hungry?" he asks

"Starving."

The delivery guy get's to Spencer's apartment at almost the same time we do.

---

Once the food's been demolished the two of us finally sit on his sofa, the same sides as the week before. "So, shall we get back into this?" He asks, sitting forward slightly to pull a notebook out of his satchel on the floor. It's small and lavender, and it's got a pen clipped into the spine. He cracks it open and flips to a specific page.

"Sorry, what's that?" I ask, pointing to the book, he looks confused,

"They're my notes?" he says, like it should be obvious

"Your notes?" I ask,

"My notes on you." he smirks, again like I'm silly for even asking.

He had notes on me? He had a whole notebook on me? What was even in that thing?

"You've got notes on me?" I ask, my hands reaching out to grab it, but he retreats faster than I can catch him. "What have you got in there that's so serious?"

"Nothing." and his tone's a bit too stern and I don't really want to push it when he's being so uncharacteristically nice to me.

"I've actually got this ready for you" I pull the file out of my own bag and toss it to him. "I'm not sure exactly what you need to know but that should be the majority of it at least."

He opens it up and glances over the the pages. It takes him all of 2 minutes to get through the whole thing. It feels unsettling that he's taking in a boiled down version of my life while I'm just sitting on the opposite side of the sofa. Trying to avoid the attention I pipe up.

"Um, hey, maybe it would be a good time for you to show me where to make a start digitizing your books over here?" I stand up and make my way to the shelf. He jumps up off the sofa and walks toward me, visibly excited.

"That's actually a great idea, I thought that the theses from my degrees could be a good place to start, since I'm pretty sure they're not backed up anywhere." he guides me to a section of the book case by the window. There's a series of leather bound hardbacks, the same gold font embossed on the spines. I recognize all of them, pulling out the first one.

"This is my favorite" I say without thinking about it and he does a double take, clearly thrown.

"You've, uh, you read my work?" he asks, completely puzzled. I'm sort of proud that I've managed to make him this awkward, and I nod.

"Mmhm, back before I joined the BAU actually. Before I really knew you" I regret saying the last part, it comes out a little meaner than I really wanted it to so I back track. "Spencer, I read all of your work while I was in college, you were like the gold standard. I don't think I slept more than 2 hours a night throughout my PHD because I was just trying to get as much done as you." and his face softens at the admission. But it takes him a moment before he responds. Leaving the two of us in silence a little too long.

"I had no idea" is all he says.

"I think this one was best" I say propping up the one in my hand, "you get a bit cockier as you move on” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "but I'll start with all of these I guess" I grab the matching books and stack them in my arms. Walking over to his desk and setting up. Glancing at the clock it was only 7pm so I decided to just make a start.

Spencer didn't contest. Letting me just get settled at his desk, I pull out my laptop and begin work on transcribing the first volume. After a few minutes he silently places a cup of tea down beside me and goes to sit on the sofa. The time rolls in quickly after that, each time I look up at Spencer he's carefully combing through the file I'd given him. Re-reading it and making little markings in his lavender notebook. I'm not really sure what I put in there that was worth making a note on but clearly he was reading between the lines on some things. That little notebook was like a profile of me.

When he seemed like he'd finished writing he pulls out his phone, scrolling through it aimlessly like I'd never seen him do before. It made him look so normal. His eyebrows knit together as he's looking at something on his screen and he stands up. Making his way over to me at the desk and shows me what he was looking at.

"Who's this?" he asks, "This guy you're with?"

I recognize the photo instantly. It's from a few years earlier, Nathan and I on the beach, my head resting on his chest. He'd taken it while we were on vacation celebrating our anniversary. That was about a month before I got into the BAU, I had no idea that was going to be our last anniversary. I gulp down the emotions that it stirs. I'm mostly over the whole thing by now, but looking at old photos like that, photos of happier times, it can still sting.

"That's uh, the boyfriend I was telling you about last week. Nathan, we broke up not long after I joined the BAU?" he nods, but he's smart, and I kind of figure he already knew that.

"Ah alright" he takes out the hardback and jots another note down. Maybe he's trying to get a read on me.

"What are you doing?" I gesture to the phone,

"It's research, do you not think that if you and I were really dating that stalking your social media profiles would be on my agenda?" he's smug, and he's right. But I guess I just didn't expect it from him.

"Well that's not really fair now is it? I can't reciprocate, you've got no social media presence whatsoever!" he finds that funny, letting out a deep chuckle and tucking his phone away in his back pocket.

"Maybe so, but that imbalance is hardly my fault. Besides, you've read all my dissertations apparently..."

"Bastard" I joke, slamming my laptop shut and throwing a pen from his desk at him so that it lightly bounces off the top of his head.

"Hey, there's no need for violence Y/N!" he rubs the spot beneath his curls, "Maybe it's time you took a break actually?" he says, sitting himself back down on the sofa.

I was reluctant to admit it but he was right. My eyes were starting to go a little fuzzy after looking at the screen for so long. I stand up and stretch my arms out above my head, feeling my spine stretch out after sitting for so long, letting out a low groan. Spencer waves me over to the sofa and I join him.

"How about we go back to basics?" Spencer asks with a small grin, and I can't help but let out a long sigh.

"I thought I was taking a break, no more questions" he just laughs at me,

"Relax, you're not that interesting, it's just a simple question." he states, and I'm not sure if I'm supposed to find it funny or offensive

"Ugh, fine, shoot"

"Well, actually it's two questions" he corrects, "what's your favorite movie, and what's your favorite snack?"

I'm confused mostly by the fact that it actually is a simple question, I was expecting something a lot more contentious, but also because he looks eager to know the answer.

"I'm not really sure what my favorite movie is to be honest, one of them is Night of the Living Dead?"

He nods to himself, and jots it down in the notebook again, "Alright, I can make that work" he stands up off the sofa before turning back to me, "and snack?"

"Peanut butter cups I guess?" I respond and he grins ear to ear, which is a completely new sight, and I like it way more than I thought I would.

"Perfect, gimme 2 minutes!" he leaves the living room and wanders towards the kitchen.

Spencer returns a few minutes later with a DVD, a packet of peanut butter cups , and a thick knitted blanket gathered in his arms. He drapes the blanket over me and gently places the peanut butter cups on top of it before popping the DVD into the player and sitting down beside me. I'm not really sure how to process any of the situation. Am I about to watch a movie on Spencer Reid's sofa? Sitting next to Spencer Reid?

"I... I, uh, thought you were just asking for your notes?" I ask, pointing at the notebook resting in his lap. He picks it up and throws it onto the coffee table.

"Sometimes I find experience is the best teacher, don't you?" he asks before pressing play, “And besides, it should keep you quiet for a whole 96 minutes” of course.

I can only nod in agreement, I'm not really sure what I'll say if I try to speak. I get myself cosy under the warm blanket and we watch the movie in near silence.

Once the credits roll Spencer finally speaks up, "I actually went to see a screening of this last month downtown, there was this little old horror movie fest-" I cut him off without really realizing, I'm just strangely excited that we've genuinely got something in common.

"Holy shit, I was there!" I say, more enthusiastic than the situation calls for.

He laughs at my excitement, "Well, I guess we have more overlap than I thought, that should probably help with the whole charade." he stretches his arms up over his head and let's out a small, gentle yawn. I'd been enjoying myself more than I thought I would, or would ever tell Spencer, that I'd almost forgotten that we'd both been on a case for almost every waking moment of the past week. I really should feel a lot more drained than I do.

I was just after midnight when I suggested that I head back home. I offered to take some of the books home to work on throughout the weekend but Spencer insisted that I just work on them whenever I came over again. I sort of felt like I should thank him for the evening when I was on my way out the door, or give him a quick hug, no that felt wrong. In the end all I could really muster was a lousy, "goodnight" and a meek wave on my way out the door before I drove home. And couldn't get to sleep.

— —

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Irrational

Characters: Ganyu, Jean, Keqing, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,100

Warnings: Alcohol

Premise: Emotions aren’t always rational, a fact easy enough to ignore when one is happy or in love, or in any similar situation. However more negative aspects aren’t always as easy to ignore.

In which the reader’s s/o is jealous.

Author’s Note: This is our welcome for Jean! I have to admit she was really enjoyable to write. Especially in a prompt such as this, my guilty pleasure trope.

Not proofread because I’m tired will do so tomorrow.

Ganyu

Relationships were still something that often eluded Ganyu. Friendships, work dynamics, love, they all spun around in her head, and though she sometimes found her bearings, relationships still felt like walking on a tightrope high above a dark and churning sea.

These thoughts and feelings still lingered in her mind, even now when her relationship with you was rock solid she still worried. Ganyu was a mess of repressed emotions; isolated from most of humanity she still felt the need to be absolutely perfect near you, to never let her emotions get the best of her, to be the best partner one can be.

Which is why she hated those stupid love notes.

They’d started arriving about a year and a half into your relationship. At first you’d thought it was from her, but your look of happiness quickly turned to one of embarrassment and slight discomfort when she revealed she had no idea who was leaving little gifts and notes at your desk. Although you made a point to get rid of them as soon as you’d read the contents of the letter they still kept coming, and every day Ganyu saw one of those pink little envelopes on your desk she grew more and more irritated.

And yet Ganyu still didn’t want to tell you, for she was afraid that you would think she was suspecting you in some ways. You couldn’t control what was going on after all, why should she burden you with her fears, with the emotions that threatened to squeeze all the air out of her lungs and tear her thoughts to shreds. No, she wouldn’t burden you with this, she’d take care of it herself. You wouldn’t want to be bothered with her stupidity anyways, it’d only cause more problems.

“I really don’t understand who’s doing this.” You groaned, entering the office one morning to the sight of a rose on your desk, the telltale envelope attached to the stem with a red ribbon. Walking over to it, dragging your feet in a way that made Ganyu, who had been standing behind you, giggle you tore open the letter in one nonchalant movement.

“What does it say?” Ganyu kept her voice as soft as possible, trying desperately to ignore the emotions that were threatening to cut off her throat. How long was this going to go on?

“Oh listen to this,” you scoffed, turning towards Ganyu, a wry sort of smile plastered across your face, “my dear friend – as if whoever this creep is would ever be a friend of mine. I noticed recently that you’ve become quite close to the secretary of the Liyue Qixing. I would never question your decisions – oh of course not – but I find that work romances never last. Perhaps if we were to meet I could explain to you why, though I’m sure you already know the reasons yourself and would never dream in participating in such a thing. Still, I await you reply. Sincerely, your secret admirer.”

With a flourish you bowed, before promptly chucking the letter in the trash. “Well at least they seem finally to be catching on to the fact I’m disinterested. Honestly though, I don’t know what this person is thinking. I really ought to complain to the department, see if they can’t find out why this is happening.”

“I agree,” Ganyu couldn’t help but let disgust fill her voice, “this is harassment. You really ought to tell someone about it.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, before sighing. “I’d hate to be a pain though…”

“You aren’t!” Ganyu shook her head, indignant at the insinuation. “Protecting yourself isn’t being a pain. This isn’t merely distracting, it’s concerning. You deserve better.”

“Thank you Ganyu.” You smiled; glancing around to make sure no one was there you gave her a soft peck on the cheek. “You’re always looking out for me.”

“Of course I am!” Ganyu replied, her face burning slightly. “I love you.” She added softly.

“I love you too.” You smiled. Sitting down you glanced at the rose as if it were a weapon rather than a flower. “A pity they keep sending flowers, I hate to throw out the poor things.” Hesitating you took it in your hands, smiling sheepishly as you stuffed it into your desk drawer. Ganyu smiled back, attempted to ignore the small twinge of annoyance that rattled in her and whispered that she should burn the reminder of her suffering.

The two of you had worked later than usual that day, and it showed the next morning as you failed to show up at your usual spot. Although Ganyu might’ve normally waited for you, today she glanced around her before quickening her pace as she made her way towards the Qixing headquarters. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for, and though she felt slightly bad about sneaking around behind your back she was also at her wits’ end, and if she wasn’t going to tell you then she was surely going to figure out once and for all what was going on.

The door had been left open by the last person who entered, and Ganyu wrinkled her nose at the irresponsibility of such a thing before walking inside herself. The office was mostly dark, and the contrast of your light being the only one visible throughout the hallway immediately put her on high alert.

Her suspicions were justified when she walked through the door. A man was standing at the edge of your desk. In one hand was a bouquet of flowers and in the other was an all too familiar note. Although Ganyu might’ve normally been merely frightened and appalled she now found herself more angry than anything else, and her words were spat out with a vehemence she hadn’t entirely known she’d possessed.

“What in Teyvat do you think you’re doing here?” She asked, voice shaking slightly. The man jolted and turned around, relazing when he saw who it was. That was a mistake.

“Ah it’s the secretary,” His smile was mocking and the way he bobbed his head made it clear he thought nothing of the half-adeptus in front of him. “I was wondering who would catch me eventually. Didn’t expect it to be the Tianquan’s personal servant.”

“Answer my question.” Ganyu spoke once more, completely unfazed by the insults of a man who was so utterly loathsome. “What are you doing here.”

“You’re rather dull aren’t you,” the man’s tone was a dismissive as before, “I didn’t realize this needed any explanation. I think it’s very clear that I’m here to deliver something to this office’s owner.”

“Do you even know their name?” If Ganyu hadn’t been so angered perhaps she would’ve found the man’s expression hilarious. He seemed to be completely malfunctioning.

“Of course I know it!” He finally let out. “It’s written on the plaque outside the door if you’ve forgotten. But I doubt you would. You seem awfully close to them recently.”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Oh but it is.” The man’s smile was utterly enraging. “They’re very important to me after all.”

“They aren’t even aware of your existence.” Ganyu spat. Approaching closer she drew herself up as tall as she could. “They’d never have anything to do with someone as worthless and creepy as you.”

“What exactly am I doing that’s creepy?” The man backed away slightly, slight panic mixing with defensiveness. “I’m only showing them how much I care for them! What’s wrong with that? You’re just jealous aren’t you. You want them for yourself, don’t you. Well you can’t have them, because they’re mine.”

“They don’t belong to anyone.” Ganyu replied, voice made soft and hoarse from the anger burning in her chest and pounding in her ears. “And if you can’t see that then you’re even worse a person than I thought you could be. You may think them something to possess, and you worthy to possess them; but in reality you’re lower than dirt and they owe you nothing, not even the air you breathe. You should leave now. You may have no respect for privacy, or rank, or profession. But the Liyue Qixing are nowhere close to incompetent. And if you value a life not spend in total societal isolation or, Morax forbid, behind bars, I suggest you never return.”

“You really ought to listen to her.” Your voice was music to Ganyu’s ears after what had just passed. Turning her head slightly she saw you leaning against the door, a grim smile painted across your face. “She’s the person in this office least likely to simple chuck you out the window.”

Gulping slightly the man finally moved. Shooting one last glare at both you and Ganyu he scuttled out into the hallway. Only when she heard the front door close did Ganyu breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” She said, flushed with embarrassment and the lingering anger she felt. “I shouldn’t’ve threatened them, or lost my temper like that.”

“You were utterly in your right.” You smiled. “In fact you were quite gallant if I do say so myself!”

“I lost control of myself,” Ganyu shook her head, “I wasn’t thinking about doing the right thing, or protecting you. I wasn’t thinking of anything. I was only angry. Angry and… well I don’t know.”

“Jealous?” You suggested. Flushing, Ganyu glanced at the ground.

“Maybe.” She whispered.

The half-adeptus glanced up in surprise as you wrapped you arms around her. After a while she returned the gesture, and for a while there was simply silence as you two basked in each other’s presence.

“You shouldn’t feel bad about being jealous.” You spoke after a while. “Every feels jealous sometimes, it’s completely normal. And in this case it was positively valiant! Even if you weren’t thinking of me, you still stood up for me. And I couldn’t be more grateful.”

“I lost my temper.” Ganyu was stubborn in her conviction that what she’d done was wrong. Lessons that she’d taught herself about displaying her emotions passed through her thoughts. “It’s not good to be jealous. I’ll only end up pushing you away if I keep losing myself to my emotions.”

“Being jealous is only a problem when it spirals out of control,” you replied, “being offended at the way someone speaks about your partner, or disliking the fact your partner is getting sent weird letters every day is something that any normal person would be jealous about. Even if the person turned out to be such a lout like that one.”

“You aren’t angry?” Ganyu ventured, still skeptical. You drew away slightly so she could see your face. You were smiling brightly.

“Not a bit.”

“Good.” Ganyu smiled back.

You nodded your head. Apparently satisfied you moved to grab the stuff you’d left in the doorway. Still somewhat unsure Ganyu walked over to you.

“Um, can I ask something?”

“Sure!” You replied. “Anything.”

“Um… can you get rid of the rose in your desk?”

You paused for a moment before giggling. Walking over to your desk you took out the offending flower, opening the window and throwing it out onto the lawn.

“There we go.” You turned around. “I’m sorry if that was making you uncomfortable. Tell me next time you’re feeling jealous, alright?”

“Okay.” Ganyu whispered.

Relationships were confusing. So many invisible lines that one might trip over. Still Ganyu would gladly learn where the lines were in regards to you. For she loved you. So very much.

Jean

Jean didn’t like work parties at the best of times, but now it was all she could do not to scream as she watched the young knight next to you begin to break into verse, proclaiming to all the – hopefully blacked out – knights around you that he loved only you.

Normally Jean was pretty dismissive of the antics of her coworkers. Being the Acting Grand Master she saw it as her duty never to be too punishing, always aware not only of the power she held in such a position, but also of the respect that she had garnered, that she had worked tirelessly for. The Knights of Favonius, from the highest ranked captain to the lowest foot soldier, was comprised up of well meaning, enthusiastic workers. Despite all their faults she cared deeply about them all, and could often sidesteps their antics as the result of their camaraderie.

This time however felt different. Even if Jean knew full well that the knight probably meant nothing serious by it, knew that he was simply drunk and having a good time, she still couldn’t help the coil of emotions that wound taught into her stomach. Scowling slightly into her drink she cursed herself. Maybe she was the tipsy one, for only a fool would be jealous in a situation like this.

“Feeling already Grand Master?” Kaeya’s voice was as cheerful and as unassuming as usual, not at all revealing the fact that he should’ve been utterly plastered. Now he simply sat down across from his irritated coworker, taking another swig before glancing over towards what was capturing Jean’s attention.

“What do you want Kaeya?” Jean asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from its obvious ending. Kaeya was currently the only member of the knights who knew of the relationship between the two of you, and though he took that honor very seriously he was also quick to tease, something made only worse by his current state.

“Ah I see what’s going on.” Kaeya smirked, refusing to cooperate. “What’s going on here? A lover’s quarrel perhaps. No. Our dear adventurer seems hardly happy with the situation. What could it be then?” He let out a sudden gasp. “Is our dear knight jealous?”

“Neither they nor I are ‘our dear’ anything.” Jean pointed out, rolling her eyes. “And I’m hardly jealous. Only pitying the poor soul for the embarrassment he’s going to feel tomorrow if he or anyone in his regiment remembers this.”

“Ahh, I see.” Kaeya replied, tone of voice making it plenty obvious that he didn’t believe Jean one bit. Shooting him a dirty look Jean sighed, once more raising the beer she was drinking to her lips. She didn’t much like beer really, but it was sort of the signature drink of Mondstadt – unless you were rich enough to afford Dandelion Wine on the regular, which few were – and Jean felt the compulsion to blend in with those around her in taste and in manner. Although in this case it was becoming difficult to do so.

Was she jealous? Although Jean would like to say surely not she wasn’t so naïve or so optimistic. She knew very well that she was jealous, but there really was no reason to be so. It felt somewhat below her, to be so blatantly upset by this pseudo-flirtation. Wasn’t she more aware, more mature than that? The answer became very clear when the knight stopped his verbal rambling and attempted, somewhat unsuccessfully, to grab your hand.

“Sir Heinrich.” Jean’s voice had taken on the authority that she rarely liked to use in casual company. “Might I ask you to control yourself in the presence of our guest.”

Heinrich, apparently not so drunk as to be unable to read the now somewhat tense room, immediately and somewhat dramatically, snapped into attention. “G-Grand Master Jean! Yes, of course! I’m so sorry.” Bowing quickly he promptly burst into tears and, proclaiming that he’d betrayed his Grand Master, was dragged outside by some friends, hopefully to sleep off his inebriation.

The tone of the party quickly returned to its jovial origins, anyone still in attendance at 3:00 was either Jean, you, Kaeya, or too drunk to care about what had just happened. Jean, however, was somewhat surprised, and extremely embarrassed, by her sudden outburst. Sinking down on the stool next to you she put her head in her hands.

“I’m going to have to apologize for that tomorrow.” She sighed. Glancing over towards you she reached out her hand, which you quickly took, palm sliding gently into hers. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be! I don’t mind a bit of flattery, but that was becoming… a bit much.” You let out a giggle, the glass next to you an indicator that you were probably a bit tipsy yourself. “Besides, you’re very cute when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!” Jean scoffed, blushing slightly. “You and Kaeya I swear, incorrigible.”

“How am I not surprised he picked up on it too,” you laughed, smiling fondly. “I don’t mind it, at least not in cases like this. By all means, be as jealous as you want.”

“I’m not jealous.” Jean insisted, shaking her head violently.

Laughing you leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the head, ignoring the scandalized gasps from the remaining crowd.

“Whatever you say, my dear knight in shining armor.”

Jean let out a nervous giggle. What was she going to do with you, now that she loved you so much.

Keqing

Keqing wanted to make it very clear that she never became jealous. Absolutely not, under no circumstances.

She had more respect for herself after all, more respect for you. It was below your relationship to be worried over something such as jealousy, and Keqing for her part resolved never to lower herself to such a level, even if you were somewhat more dismissive of the idea than she was.

“Jealousy is an emotion,” you explained when she asked you why you were so cavalier in regards to the notion, “and since I know both you and I are hardly likely to spin out of control if it were to happen, I don’t really find the idea repulsive.”

“You’re very strange.” Had been all Keqing could respond, not wanting to argue with you about it. It would never happen anyhow. No point in fighting about it.

Now Keqing was somewhat regretting that statement as she watched the woman next to you chatter away while she stood, still as a rock, trying desperately to bite back the retorts that were running through her mind at everything this random lady was telling you.

“It really is such a pleasure to see you again!” You smiled at the woman, some friend of yours and, from what Keqing gathered, a long forgotten one at that. “It’s really been too long.”

“I agree!” The woman replied eagerly, her smile so syrupy that Keqing was surprised it wasn’t melting in the sun. “We really must go out for coffee and catch up.”

“Absolutely!” You nodded, ignoring the stare that Keqing was now focusing on you. “Maybe sometime in the summer?”

“Sounds like a plan! Now excuse me, I have to go.” The woman smiled. Nodding towards Keqing, evidently she wasn’t completely oblivious, she waved before walking away. Waving back you turned around towards your partner, a smile on your face.

“Thanks for stopping for me, I realize that took a little while.”

“It was nothing.” Keqing’s voice was sharp and flat, and she ignored your puzzled look as she turned back towards the Qixing headquarters, determined to forget this entire conversation, and the dark emotions it had managed to dredge up.

The rest of the day was somewhat quiet, though Keqing could tell you wanted to talk about your old friend. She knew that she was being exceedingly rude by ignoring your cues, but she couldn’t help it. The whole situation made her uncomfortable, and she didn’t know how to process that. If she admitted it you’d just chock it up to jealousy and not only would she feel somewhat invalidated, but she’d have to deal with the knowledge that all her boasting had been for nothing. Or, to be more explicit, that she’d been wrong.

“Want to have dinner together?” Keqing glanced at the clock on her desk. The day had long ended, and now it was just the two of you.

“Gladly.” She smiled at you, getting up from her chair. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

“No worries!” You waved your hand. “I wanted to spend some time with you anyways.” Unlike you did earlier today? Keqing bit the retort back. It would be cruel to say that, and somewhat revealing. Besides she really did want to walk home with you, and wouldn’t taint the experience with her own emotional turmoil.

The walk was a lovely one, for the day had been somewhat hot and now a cool breeze brought in by the sea blew lazily. You were discussing one of the transactions you’d had to check, when Keqing spied your friend up ahead. Before she could change your course the lady noticed the two of you however. Calling your name she waved her hand wildly. Distracted from your conversation you waved back, running up ahead and leaving Keqing behind in the dust.

“Fancy meeting you here again!” You exclaimed. “I was just walking home from work.”

“I was stopping by one of the stalls.” Your friend gestured towards the temporary structure behind her. “I forgot to buy groceries, so I suppose it’s grilled Tiger Fish tonight.”

“It happens to the best of us.” You laughed. Keqing couldn’t stand the atmosphere anymore. The conversation was insipid, the participant who’d brought it up even more so. Unable to stop her frustration Keqing walked, or rather stomped, over towards you. Huffing slightly she grabbed your hand. Turning around your face betrayed surprise, but it was quickly replaced once more with a smile. “Ah, I almost forgot. Lily, this is Keqing!”

“Oh, a pleasure to meet you!” The woman, Lily apparently, smiled. “Are you coworkers?” Keqing felt a flicker of resentment at not being directly addressed. Surely she didn’t need a translator.

“My partner.” You corrected, smiling and squeezing Keqing’s hand, something which did little to relieve the tension she felt.

“I see.” Your friend smiled her saccharine smile. “Nice to meet you Keqing.”

“Pleasure.” Keqing replied, not bothering to keep the irritation out of her voice, after all wasn’t she known for being blunt? “Now we really ought to get going, if we aren’t going to be eating in the middle of the night.”

“Sorry for dashing on you,” you apologized, something which Keqing deemed completely unnecessary. “See you around.”

“See you around!” Lily replied. As she turned back to the stall Keqing started moving again, half dragging you through the streets and to her apartment.

Finally arriving home Keqing breathed a sigh of relief. This, however, was quite short lived.

“What was that all about?” There was amusement in your voice, and though Keqing was glad you didn’t seem irritated with her, she certainly wasn’t happy about the mischief in your smile.

“It was getting late.” She replied curtly. “I’d rather not be cooking dinner in the dark.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” Your voice was slightly sing-song and Keqing rolled her eyes, knowing immediately where this was going.

“Of course, what other reason could there possibly be?”

“I don’t know, maybe you were a little jealous?” You shrugged your shoulders dramatically. Keqing tensed for a moment, before shaking her head.

“Why in Teyvat would I be jealous? After all, they’re just a friend.” Although she hadn’t meant to emphasize that last bit Keqing couldn’t help but feel somewhat irritated. It was just a friend, she was sure of that, sure of you. And yet it had irritated her. It had irritated her intensely. And what was that but jealousy?

“Of course they are.” You smiled gently. “They’re just a friend and you’re just the person I love. But Keqing?”

“Yes?” Keqing found her voice somewhat unsure.

“I don’t mind if you’re a little jealous. As long as you never doubt my affections for you, then it’s okay to be a little selfish. Okay?”

There was a pause, before Keqing walked over to you, wrapping you into a tight hug and burying her face in your neck. Drawing back slightly she pressed a soft and somewhat impatient kiss to your lips.

“Are you sure?” She asked, pulling away once more.

“Very sure.” You replied, before leaning in to kiss her in turn.

Keqing was glad to be carried away by the content feeling of being in the embrace of one’s love. She found today incredibly embarrassing and just wanted to forget the whole matter. And she knew you’d let that happen, for even if Keqing felt irritated, even if she resented your friend for accosting you and not leaving you alone she still trusted you more than anything.

And that was what counted.

#ganyu's is so long lol #it's a theme #anyways this was really fun #also jean is a new writing fav #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #ganyu #jean #keqing #ganyu x reader #jean x reader #keqing x reader #requested #scenarios #my writing

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