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jamneuromain · 7 months

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Revenge Oh So Sweet

Steve Rogers x You (Agent!Reader)

Warning: Revenge (sort of), dick pics, bad language word, fluff? Clintasha if you squint.

Summary: For once, you decide not to put up with this shit anymore.

A/N: Based on the prompt from the bingo challenge. The inspiration came from @rogerswifesblog / @rogerswifesblog-updates (a big smoochie) and my recent experience, there's another experience under the tag #why I hate men. So ... yeah, you get the gist.

Your life-long happiness seems to have been a mutual concern of every Avenger in the compound.

After two not-so-successful relationships and another couple of failed dates, everyone is eager to share their experience or their suggestions as to what could help you find a partner.

"Be yourself." Tony commented on your love life when he accidentally overheard you girls talking in the kitchen, "Trust me, that's how I got Pepper." He said with a smug smile on his face.

Natasha rolled her eyes as Maria tugged the corner of her lips and made a rude - you considered it not so rude, but Tony jumped and felt offended - face.

"Come on, Stark." Natasha huffed out, "That's because Pepper is loyal and devoted. And you can't live without her."

Wanda stayed quiet but nodded like a chicken pecking the grains right in front of her.

"I can introduce the guy working for the IT, nerd, but... cute." Natasha fished out the Instagram of said guy.

Tony grumbled something under his breath as he headed out.

And it was not long before almost everyone on the Avengers team started to give you advices on how to secure a partner/date.

You were nursing over a bucket of chocolate ice cream, your standard medication for sorrows of "not being able to find a boyfriend" the other day when Thor's voice boomed by your ear, "... I am SURE Asgardian warriors would be kneeling at your feet if you could swing the battle sword during a fight."

He smelt like Asgardian mead.

"Thanks, Thor." You appreciated his effort, nonetheless, raising your ice cream bucket for a gestural toast.

Tony snorted at the end of the coffee table, probably having way too much caffeine than he should, and patted Thor on his bicep, "She needs a boyfriend, Point Break, not becoming Arnold Schwarzenegger."

Clint plopped down next to you on the couch, nudging you with his shoulder, gathering your attention, and asked, "Look, why don't you just kidnap some hot dude? That's what Nat almost- HEY!"

He yelled when Natasha threw a couch pillow in his direction, hitting him square in the chest, succesfully shutting him up.

Clint shrugged and gave you a glimpse of sympathy, which you were 99% sure he meant "Sorry kiddo". He shrunk to the corner of the couch, taking a swing of his beer.

"Why not try meeting someone with mutual interest?" Steve carefully pitches his suggestion, he looks at you with a hint of thought, "Like finding someone who shares the same passion over some exercises in the gym."

"Except I'm not a big fan of gyms." You pouted slightly, "But yeah, I guess book clubs and stuff... could work?"

"Gym." Bucky sniggered without even trying to mask his amusement, "Such a Steve thing." After receiving a warning glare from Steve, Bucky moved slightly away from his best pal, and singsongingly added, "I'm sure a candidate is much closer than you'd think."

Sam shook his head. Leaning on the counter of the kitchen, Sam proposed his idea with much delicacy to you, chuckling, "Steve might have a point. You know, maybe get to know your coworker better." Sam said this almost suggestively, a knowing smirk lingering on his lips, "After all, we never frown upon office romance. Not a bad idea to date your coworker as long as they are nice decent people, while you get to have fun."

"Surely redhead is neither nice nor decent." Bucky pointed his finger towards Nat on the far-end chair, whispering loudly.

"Don't get me breaking all your fingers, Barnes. And I'm not only talking about the ones on your right hand." Natasha retorted back, looking as if she was ready to bicker with Bucky again.

Vision, on the other hand, was not comfortable with processing a large conversation with so many participants even though he was able to identify every one of them. However, it was customary for everyone to join the conversation, no matter how they contributed to it. After doing some research in his head, Vision spoke up with confidence, "May I suggest a less time-consuming approach?"

This certainly drew the attention of most people in the room as Rhodey walked in.

"I have been analyzing the data of Miss Y/L/N, and I have come up with a list of results. It is a list of possible partners of Miss Y/L/N." Vision gave some time for this information to sink in before starting the list, "On top of the list, data run came back with a 99.7% matching rate to a book named-"

"A book?" Tony almost sprang from his seat, "HOLD ON. Hold on, for a minute here." He raised his index finger shushing everyone in the room, "What's the book?"

After hearing his question, the room fell into a unison of grumbles. "Seriously Tony?" "You're interested in that book? There's something wrong with..." "Ask him to take another look at the data for Christ's sake-"

Tony rolled his eyes in the most elegant way, "Fine. Vision, would you please erase all lifeless forms of matching in your database and focus on possible 'human' partners?"

A few seconds gone with Vision processing the data in silence, before speaking up, "I have now entered the condition of 'human partner', and the first person with a 99.4% matching rate is Andy Barber, lawyer-"

Gasps and murmurs swirled over the room again.

"...he lives in Newton, Boston, Massachusetts. According to data, he is married to Laurie Barber. Being the leading character of the crime fiction Defending Jacob-"

You would prefer to be drowned in your chocolate ice cream than to have Vision pairing you with a fictional character - even if it's a fictional character that is played by a very handsome actor in the TV series.

That you probably watched more than a dozen times. But still! Fictional!

Rhodey murmured to Tony: "And that's why we still wouldn't apply AI to our weaponary program..."

You groaned in agony, "Vision, I adore you, really. But I really need you to stop-"

"Ya-Da-Ya-Da-Ya-Da-" Tony cut through your sentence, "Vision, no fictional characters, we need real men-"

"Or woman." Wanda squeaked, clearly more amused than everyone else in this room.

"Or woman. Thank you, ponytail," Tony cleared his throat, "Someone who is actually living on the planet right now-"

"Recalculating. Ari Levinson Kidron, former Mossad agent. He is 99.3% compatible. He was renowned for Israel's Operation Moses and Operation Joshua from 1984 to1985."

"Eighties?" Bucky chimed in with mischief sparkling in his eyes, "How old is he?"

"He is currently 78 years old. A movie based on him was released in 2019, starring an actor named Christopher Robert Evans." Vision replied, "Your Netflix history clearly shows a tendency toward strong powerful men with romantic gestures during dating."

You buried your head as deep as the ice cream bucket allowed, "Please, Vision, I'm begging you. Don't leak anymore of my browsing history before I decide to jump into the Hudson River."

Wanda shook her head lightly at Vision, the latter seemed to gain a hint of realization after a while, "Sorry. I have been intrusive. My deepest apologies, Miss. Y/L/N."

You waved your hand in the air to indicate "all is well", but your eyes were still staring into the brown-ish ice cream, which had started to melt.

Shit.

Wanda scooted closer to you, holding her phone in front of your face, she seemed optimistic about what had just happened (even though you were devastated and actually considering being single for the rest of your life).

"What about dating apps?" She showed you a few, swiping men's profiles for you to see, "It's definitely simpler than asking some random people. You can also tell them at the start that you are looking for serious relationships, rather than sex."

Actually, that sounded...

"Thank you, Wanda." You shot her an appreciatiating look.

That sounded like the most solid suggestion anyone has ever made. Especially with the match-making plan of Natasha and the nerdy guy didn't work out, you were willing to try Tinder. Or something similar.

Wanda gave you an encouraging smile, before hugging you on the shoulder and helping you start your own profile on some app. While Sam half-dragged Steve out of the living room, mumbling something about "bats".

After a couple dozen men who wanted "something casual, sorry" and a disastrous night, you scrolled through your dating app to see if anyone has messaged you last night.

You were on an all-nighter mission with your teammates. Due to an unfortunate incident, you had to chase the criminal for about twelve blocks. On foot.

Just got your phone back from your locker, you sagged down on one of the empty chairs by the mission dispatch center, and scrolled through your dating app.

Daveid757: Hi.

You clicked on his profile picture.

"Daveid" is a decent-looking guy with a thin beard and hazel-brown eyes. Tall and broad-shouldered, he held a few 10-foot-long fish in half of his pictures and his different fishing rods in the rest.

Not bad, at least.

You returned to the chatting screen.

[Daveid757 typing]

You should probably say hi back.

Daveid757 stopped typing.

And the next thing you know, a dick pic that took up almost half of your phone screen attacked you right in the face.

A dick.

A at-first-sight-it-was-five-inch-but-some-skin-and creases-are-repetitive-so-it-was-at-most-a-two-inch dick.

A naked dick and his naked thigh.

A tiny but photoshopped dick.

You began to wonder what should you reply at this point.

You sure it's not two inches? No. Basically harmless to a guy who sends dick pics.

Fuck off you prick. No. That came off too strong.

How about I've seen bigger? That could probably trigger his competitiveness, though. You were hoping for something that could make him as furious as how you felt when you received his dick pic.

The sickness of getting a genitalia photo, the rage of being disrespected by men, the grumpiness from your staying up all night, and the frustration of knowing that the "dating app" method was a bust, all united as one .

Although you knew your blood was boiling from all four emotions, they were helpful too, enlightening you with a brilliant idea.

You should get a Nobel Peace Prize for it.

You searched "dick" and selected a dick pic that looked significantly larger and thicker than the one Daveid sent you.

Your dick pic is smooth and pink, clean-shaven, and with a man's hand gripping the foreskin, revealing the angry red tip.

This one looked much better than his.

You looked at this dick pic fondly.

And sent it to him.

Daveid757: You fucking crazy motherfucker.

Daveid757 has blocked you.

His profile picture turned grey, just like the type of picture people will put in front of his casket during his funeral.

Out of nowhere, a surge of euphoria washed over you. Having you doing your best to maintain a calm presence. You try your best not to smirk or giggle, trying your best to keep your lips between your teeth, biting the inside of your mouth from hollering out laughter.

Yeah, you definitely like "your" dick pic better.

While the two dick pics stayed on your screen.

Peacefully. Paying each other respect.

"Hey Y/N," holding his first cup of coffee in hand, Steve emerged behind you in his full tactical suit. He still had an hour before his mission and he decided not to board the jet without a healthy caffeine dose at 5:32 am. He saw you from the break room across the hall, and he just had to say hello to you.

Professional. This is purely professional courtesy!

You seemed undisturbed, gazing into your phone, with a smile ghosting your lips.

Naturally, Steve trotted near, earning a peek to your phone - he didn't intend to be sneaky about it, he only wanted to know what was mesmerizing you - while sipping down some hot hot burning lava hot coffee and -

You're looking at dicks???

"Oh my - Steve! Are you alright?" Shoving your phone into your pocket, you found some Kleenex in your bag and put it into Steve's hand. He choked and coughed violently, whole face flushed red as he waved his hand, stepping away from you, continuing coughing his lungs out.

You were struggling to understand whether he means "No, I'm not alright" or "No, I don't need the Kleenex" or "No, everything is alright". Though you didn't know how the last one worked the way inside your head.

Steve calmed himself after coughing into his palms some more. Shaking his head but accepting your tissue paper: "Yeah I'm - EHEM - 'm fine." Dabbing his suit which now has coffee splatters over his chest, he muttered an almost inaudible "Thank you".

He didn't look you right in the eyes when he was busy cleaning up his mess, but he felt like he had to when he should talk to you about workplace ethics. He finally looked up from the ground with his baby blue orbs, and tried to sound serious with his ears and cheeks blushing: "Y/N, I'm not ... " he winced, "You know I'm not that type of person who ummm... tries to dictate what others do or don't."

"Like Tony?" You scoffed, but the scoff was more directed to Tony rather than Steve. God, you should know better than to let Tony participate in your love life, giving out advices.

Steve manages a smile witth difficulty, "I'm not, but ... I don't ... I would consider ... I uh - I believe genital photos are not workplace appropriate."

You choked out a laugh, fishing your phone from your pocket and showing him, "What, this?"

"God, please, Y/N." He blocked your screen with his leather-gloved hand, becoming visibly more nervous, blurting out but his tone appears to be more begging than commanding, "Not ... here!"

You giggled. The few hours of sleep you had while you were on the plane back from the mission had led you to an unstable mindset. It would be completely insane for the "normal" you to show Steve Rogers, a work fellow, dick pics. But right now? With all those emotions boiling down your veins, the lack of sleep (and apparently, the lack of clear sense) and the sudden euphoria of making Steve nervous, you were feeling bold. Audacious. Felt like you could conquer the world and slam a monster silicone dildo right onto Daveid's face.

So you apologized, though not with much sincerity, and told Steve why you were "watching dick pics" on your phone in your workplace.

"He started it!" After accusing Daveid of sending you dick pics, you whined like a grumpy child, which you definitely wouldn't, if you were not sleep-deprived, but Steve felt like the most trustworthy male person on the planet at that moment, so you spilt your guts and tried to excuse yourself out of the workplace ethics violation that Steve nearly had you reported to HR.

He almost would never. Report you to the HR. But he kept that to himself.

"And it's not my dick. I suppose it's not entirely my fault?"

Steve chuckled soundlessly. It was in fact, adorable for you trying and whining, "Even if it is your dick, you don't send him that until you're out of the compound, okay?"

"I don't have a dick!" You huffed out in a hush voice. Seeing his typical look, the look with the raising eyebrows that says "yes, and-", you put up your hands in defeat, "Okay-Okay. You have a point. No dick pics."

"More like no dating apps scrolling while you're at workplace, just in case." Steve was amused. He thought for a while before making amends, "Tell you what, there's a nice little place in Brooklyn. You free tonight at 7? I'll wine and dine you, and you can tell me about all the awful macho men you've encountered. Promise, no judging."

He looks at you, almost sympathetically, with his crystal blue eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat.

You lowered your head, pretending you need to find your bag before summoning up the courage and shrugging, playing it cool, "Deal, Captain. Be ready for some of the worst men you've ever heard of."

After some most amazing medium rare steak and two glasses of fine-aged red, you were beyond caring (about your little crush of the handsome blonde sitting across you) and exchanged laughs and giggles that were definitely way too loud for a decent date.

You attracted attention, being the most stunning couple in the restaurant (so the "couple" word maybe a little too "ouchy" for you, since you normally spent time admiring Steve from afar), and some glances from other customers were casually thrown this way.

You had to admit, watching Steve in a brown leather jacket and jeans, triggered something inside you that encouraged you to climb him like a tree and slam your lips over his.

Steve chuckled, covering his lips with his fist, temporarily blocking his seductive (and to you, sinning) grin, "I can't believe Daveid is actually nicer among all the douches you've dated. Being a long-term friend of yours, I'd suggest you not to pick up men from dumpsters."

You cast a sour look in his direction, raising the glass to your lips, taking a small sip from the third cup of wine, "I would if I could." Your glass landed on the table with a bit too much force. Faking annoyance, you groaned at the ceiling, "Men are just ... awful."

"Touche." He murmured over his glass, clicking it with yours before downing a big gulp. Feeling bolder than usual, he looked at you right in the eyes, hoping he would convey a message, a hint, anything, "Surely ... there are a few good men out there. But, 80% of them are plain stupid, you know? You gotta ... I don't know, it's not about trying harder, I guess, but ... open to other ... options?"

You snorted, leaning back onto the comfy chair, teasing him, dipping your toes in the water for a second, "Oh, you're spoiling me and trying to get me zero dates in my future since you raised the bar too high, Captain."

He looked more jumpy and edgy after your "captain" comment. His ears and cheek turned pink under the dim yellow restaurant light, "I'm certain that you can have a boyfriend in the future that would be ... nice, to say the least. Apart from your lapse of judgment on this guy," he couldn't help but let slip of his smile, "you have some good friends and I'm sure you'll go on a date with someone better than him, someone better for your relationship, and more deserving for you."

You feigned a gasp of shock, "Are you calling yourself "better"? So competitive, Captain Rogers."

His fluster-ness drained from his face all of a sudden, slightly narrowing his eyes to focus on someone behind you, "I think - Is that ...?"

"What?" You were bewildered.

"The ass who sent you the dick pic." He shifted his focus back to you, "Your four o'clock. Black suit, Caucasian male, 5'7''. He's not looking this way but I'm positive he's the guy."

You spared a glance at him quickly. He did look like "Daveid757" and his profile pictures.

"Fucking hell." You muttered.

"You know what would make him furious? Letting him see you're having the best time of your life." Steve placed his palm on your wrist, giving you warmth and support, "Letting him know what he has missed out."

"Flip my hair and giggle?"

Your words didn't mean to be sarcastic, but they sure came out this way.

"Or we could return to the compound to suit up." Steve kindly offers, "I'll beat his ass until he learns a lady is supposed to be respected."

You drained your wine, teasing him with a dash of liquid courage, "Revenge doesn't suit you, Cap." And I don't want you to get into trouble, even if it is a tempting gesture. You swallowed the latter half of your sentence.

And of course, you had a much better plan...

"Is he looking this way now?" You moved to the seat by Steve's side, making sure Daveid could turn his head and see you with little effort. "Accidentally" having your wine class clatter with your ceramic plate, you made a loud noise for the entire restaurant to hear.

"Yeah but-"

The rest of his words fell on deaf ears, as you cupped his chin and kissed him.

His lips were soft. Grape-flavored with a bitter taste of alcohol. The kiss was sweet, tender, careful even, as he reciprocated your small nibbling, threading his fingers with the base of your hair.

Your liquid courage burnt down faster than you had imagined. Burying your face into his chest, you were rid of all the strength you had to check Daveid - or Steve, for that matter, because on second thought, using Steve to get back at Daveid wasn't such a good idea if Steve misunderstood your feelings as a method to get even with the dick pic dude -

"I hope you haven't fallen asleep, because that guy looked like he could swallow his wine glass. And he broke his plate, dragging his date to leave but - oh ho, now the waiter is asking him to pay for the plate and the wine -" Steve sounded normal, unaffected, calm. On the contrary, you wanted to jump into the Hudson River right this second for kissing Steve and wash off all the embarrassment and nervousness.

"I suppose you need to get some air and not suffocate yourself in my jacket?" He joked, patting on your back almost in a comforting way, while you were still buried into his chest, "Don't worry, the Daveid guy made a bigger scene and now he got kicked out of this place."

Your hair must be awful. The move messed up your hair, and your lipstick no doubt. And ruining your make-up. And you couldn't face Steve knowing that you kissed him and this - you are going to be a joke to the whole compound within 48 hours.

"But if you don't say another word for five seconds, I'm going to presume that you are losing consciousness and perform CPR in front of the whole restaurant."

You sat up reluctantly, wiping the outline of your lips and possible lipstick smudge without a mirror. Pouting.

"Or how about being my fake girlfriend for five minutes and we will show Daveid that we are a happy couple?" Steve observed your expression, making yet another proposal.

He was sweet. He was really sweet offering all these choices for you and your pathetic dating app experience but all you wanted was - "How about being real girlfriend." You grumbled under your breath.

"Sorry?"

"Never mind." You shook your head and decided to put this delightful dinner time behind you, "Let's -"

"You mean it?"

"Huh?"

His crystal blue eyes searched your features, searching for signs that you wanted him, wanted this, wanted you two to be a thing. It was cliche and a chance in a million, having his friend -you falling in love with him, but so were myths and superheroes. He liked his odds.

"Would you," He spoke, painfully slow, "like to be my girlfriend? Not because of revenging. But because I want it to work. Because I love you and I want to kiss you. Because you feel the same way, and finally, you can help put my misery of seeing you dating other people to a stop. I want to date you," he thought for a small while before adding, "exclusively."

The sun must be rising from the west, or the sea must be pouring back into rivers, or the dead must be alive from their graves.

A most-amazing miracle was happening.

Because the next thing you knew, you nodded and he pulled you into his warm hug.

And offered you one of his many sweet, sweet kisses.

Bonus:

You sneaked back to the compound, holding hands, grinning like fools, feeling like the first day of being in love.

You walked past the living room with Vision in the corner still knee-deep in his thoughts, calculating, or searching.

"It seemed the most fitting human candidate is Captain Steve Rogers, with a 99.2% match." The sudden voice startled you both, but Vision raised his head and greeted you, "Ah. I see that my data is no longer needed. Congratulations on finding a perfect partner, and good night, to you both."

You whispered a "Night" as Vision drifted towards his chamber.

Turning around when you noticed Steve went silent, you saw him scratching the back of his head, just a little bit annoyed.

"I rank behind a book and two fictional characters?"

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america fluff #captain america fanfiction #agent!reader

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drarrily-we-row-along · 7 months

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October 2: Friends, Family, Loved Ones

It was Harry’s birthday, and as much he felt embarrassed when a big fuss was made over him, he loved that Draco had planned him a party out in the manor grounds, a big white tent lit up with sparkling fairy lights.

The food was good and the company even better. All of his friends, family, and loved ones gathered around playing games and telling stories; then once they were drunk enough, singing karaoke. He was giggling into his glass of wine (his favorite: Draco had given him an entire bottle just for him) as Hagrid finished a mopey ballad.

Draco was looking unbearably smug about how happy Harry was and Harry couldn’t help but find the smugness horribly endearing. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to his rosy cheek, warm from wine and happiness, “I love you,” he murmured before tucking his nose against Draco’s neck, “thank you for a brilliant birthday.”

“Sap,” Draco accused with a soft tsk, but he was pulling Harry closer, pressing kisses into his hair. “I have one more surprise for you,” he said, and Harry could hear the quiet undercurrent of nerves.

He kissed Draco’s neck, pausing to suck lightly at it just to hear him gasp and feel his body wriggle, “you’ve spoiled me rotten today already,” he said and he’d meant it to sound accusatory but it only came out ridiculously pleased and terribly fond, his whole chest like spun cotton candy, fluffy and light, and sticky sweet.

“Well,” Draco said, “this one is a little bit selfish.”

Harry hummed and just cuddled a little closer so that he was more in Draco’s chair than his own.

"I have to get up to give it to you," he said, chuckling softly and pressing even more kisses into Harry's hair.

With a heaving sigh, he forced his body upright once more with a piteous groan.

His boyfriend leaned down and pecked his lips, "Love you," he murmured against his mouth.

"Mmmh," he hummed, wrapping a hand around Draco's neck and drawing him closer.

"Menace," Draco murmured, kissing him, kissing him, kissing him, like there was nothing else that he'd rather do.

Harry grinned up at him when he pulled back, trailing the tips of his fingers over Draco's flushed cheeks.

"Tell me you love me," Draco requested, soft and sweet, smiling and open.

"I love you," he said, soft and sure, the truest thing he's ever known.

With a mischievous smirk, he gave Harry a wink and sauntered off. It was a couple minutes later when Draco appeared on stage, wearing a sequin top and a pair of short white shorts, tummy peaking out as he pulled the microphone out of the holder.

He cleared his throat, "I wanted to thank you all for being here to celebrate my very favorite person," he said and Harry's face stretched into a smile so wide it made his cheeks hurt. "And also for bearing witness to what's about to happen," he added as the choruses of 'awws' and whistling died down.

Draco gave a nod to Blaise who was standing at the ready by the karaoke machine waiting to hit play. And then Draco started singing, looking out at Harry with a huge grin.

"The moon is high, like your friends the night that we first met," he started.

And Harry laughed at the memory, they had all been high that night after they'd graduated. Lounging about or dancing around the club, causing all sorts of chaos.

"Now I've read all of the books beside your bed," he continued with a wink. Harry grinned up at him, because that was true too, they'd read most of them together, actually, curled up under the duvet. He hadn't been read to as a child, but Draco more than made up for it with the voices and the dramatic way he read.

"The wine is cold, like the shoulder that I gave you in the street. Cat and mouse for a month, or two, or three," he sang on, twisting his body to look at Harry coyly and Harry remembered the months between when he’d started to feel attracted to Draco and when Draco had started to believe him, "now I wake up in the night to watch you breathe."

There was another round of 'awes' and some pretend wretching but Draco rolled his eyes and sang on. Meeting Harry's gaze once more as he sang, "I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings," and Harry's heart flew into his throat at the implication, did he mean it? Was that even possible?

"And I hate accidents, except when we went from friends," he gestured between the two of them, "to this."

His heart burst, Draco did so hate the unplanned, abhorred surprises. That proclamation-

"Darling, you're the one I want in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams-" a chorus of laughter and whistling broke out and Draco's cheeks flushed bright red but he kept singing, staring at Harry with a naked devotion and affection.

He couldn't breathe with it, his heart rattled painfully around his chest.

Draco sang the next verse before jumping down off the stage and making his way to Harry, bending down as he sang "kiss me once, cause you know I've had a long night," Harry leaned in obligingly and kissed his cheek. "Kiss me twice cause it's gonna be alright," and there were those nerves tingling from Draco's consciousness and into Harry's. He leaned in and kissed his cheek again. "Three times, cause I've waited my whole life." And this time he leaned in to press a hasty kiss to Harry's lips like he couldn't help himself while they counted him back in.

He sang the refrain again, climbing into Harry's lap as he melted into the bridge, "I want to drive away with you, I want your complications too, I want your dreary Mondays-"

Harry's throat went tight around those words, around the way that Draco loved him when he couldn't make heads or tails of the darkness that threatened to overwhelm him.

"-Wrap your arms around me, baby boy," he said, giving one of Harry's arms a little tug.

He repeated the bridge, wrapping an arm around Harry's neck and carding his fingers tenderly through Harry's curls, making Harry tear up again as he stared up into those beautiful silver eyes.

Draco moved into the refrain again, slower and a little sweeter, like a promise. "I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings." Harry gripped him a little tighter, "you're the one I want," he sang softly. "And I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this, uh huh, darling.”

He jumped up, Harry’s fingers trailing after him as he went, singing the refrain again as he made his way to Pansy who was holding out a small box for him. “In paper rings, in picture frames, in all my dreams,” he sang as he made his way back over and dropped to his knees. “You’re the one I want,” he sang, looking up as he opened the box to reveal a gold band.

Harry’s hands flew to his mouth, like a complete cliche, “Draco,” he whispered as the crowd around them went unnaturally still.

“Marry me?” he asked, eyes tight around the edges like he thought Harry could possibly say no.

“Yes, of course yes,” he said, “you silly, perfect man. Of course.”

The room erupted into cheering but Harry could hardly hear it, too wrapped up in his love to notice.

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Written for @flufftober prompt 2 “friends, family, loved ones”

#drarry #love #soft #fluff #proposal #flufftober #day 2 #we’re behind but 🤷🏼‍♀️ what can you do?#paper rings #I’m a little obsessed with that song #and it seems like Draco really would be singing that at karaoke #short and sweet #silly #established relationships

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lucy90712 · 4 months

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Christmas at home- Pablo Gavi

WC: 2.6k A/n: in this story Gavi never got injured so he's still playing with the team

Christmas has always been an interesting topic of discussion in mine and Pablo's relationship. When we first got together it was right at the start of November so we spent Christmas with our own families that year and last year we spent it with Pablo's family. This year we are going to see my family which has taken a lot of planning as my family don't live in Spain I'm just there to study so we had to book flights and see how long Pablo could be away for before he had to go back to training. We had everything sorted then the club decided to play a friendly in Dallas right after the last league game which ruined our plans a bit. Now instead of coming with me when I go home Pablo has to go to the states and then back to Barcelona and from there he's coming to see me and my family.

I went home the day after Pablo's last league match and have enjoyed spending time with my family but I have been waiting for the day that he finally arrives as we don't get much quality time together so having him for the holidays is always my favourite parts of the year. All last night I couldn't sleep waiting for Pablo to text saying he'd got on the plane but instead I got a text saying his flight was cancelled and he's was having to get another later flight. This later flight would mean he's not landing until this afternoon which would be fine if we weren't supposed to go to a big family gathering at my grandmas house. Every year my grandma gets everyone in the family to come round a few days before Christmas so we can all celebrate together and I was so excited for Pablo to come and meet the rest of my family that he hasn't met before but now I don't think he'll make it. I was also supposed to collect him from the airport but he told me not to and that he'd find another way there.

As much as I tried to hide my disappointment my parents could tell straight away that something was bothering me. To start with I refused to tell them what was up as I didn't want to ruin everyone's day plus there's nothing they can do so I just wanted to deal with it myself. Eventually though I could feel myself getting more and more upset so I decided it would be best to confide in my mum just to get my feelings out.

"Whats wrong sweetheart?" My mum asked as I sat down next to her

"Pablo's flight was cancelled now he's not coming until later so he's going to miss the gathering at grandma's and I can't even go and get him from the airport" I explained

"I'm sorry honey I know you wanted him to meet the rest of the family but at least he can get here still you'll still get to see him today just later" my mum said trying to make me feel better

"I know it's just I told everyone Pablo would be here and now they are going to think he's a bad boyfriend" I said

"Well you can explain the situation and if some people don't get it that's ok me and your dad love Pablo and we know he treats you so well and eventually everyone will get to see that whether it's now or another time" she said

"Thanks mum that makes me feel a bit better" I said

She gave me a hug and then we set off to my grandmas which isn't too far luckily. The entire car journey I was texting Pablo and just before we arrived I gave him the address of my grandma's place just in case he arrived in time to meet us there but I don't think his flight will land in time. Once we did arrive though I put my phone away and promised myself I wouldn't check it again until we left as I want to spend quality time with my family and not worry about how long it will be until Pablo gets here.

After going in and seeing everyone I felt so much better my grandma greeted me with a big hug and took me off to the living room to tell the family what I had been up to as apparently I now lead the most interesting life out of everyone so they all want to hear how my life has been. Luckily I remembered to bring some things with me to give my younger cousins who are all obsessed with football, Pablo wanted to give the stuff to them but seeing a he's not here I did it for him. Everyone ended up crowded around my phone as I showed them pictures of the places I'd been and some of the amazing matches I'd been to.

At these gatherings we always have a big family dinner and because I missed last year I've really been looking forward to today as there's nothing quite like homemade food from your grandparents. Being one of the oldest grandchildren I'm usually tasked with helping set the table and bring in the food which when I was younger I hated but now I like getting to be a part of everything plus I can get some of my cousins to help if I promise them more dessert. As we all sat down I felt a few people staring at me which made me feel a little uncomfortable but I just continued to eat and talk to the people sat next to me.

"Y/n I wanted to ask didn't you say your boyfriend was coming for Christmas this year?" My uncle asked

"Umm yeah he will be he had a match to play over in the US and he was supposed to fly in today but his flight got cancelled so he's arriving a bit later than expected I wanted to bring him here but things just didn't work out" I explained

"He's rich could he not have got a private jet if he really wanted to be here" my aunt said

"It's not that easy and he's not like a millionaire he really wanted to be here but the situation is out of his control one day I'll bring him to meet you all" I said trying not to show how annoyed I was feeling at the interrogation

Just as everyone else was about to continue berating Pablo and our relationship the doorbell rang so I excused myself to answer it as I happened to be seated closest to the door. I was drowning in my own thoughts to the point that when I opened the door I didn't even pay any attention to who was stood there and just said hello like I would to anyone stood at the door. It was only when I heard the person stood in front of me speak that I really paid attention and once my eyes confirmed what my ears heard I freaked out.

"Is that how you're going to greet me after I've just rushed here to see you" Pablo laughed

"Oh my god you're here you made it" I smile jumping into his arms

"I did make it there was one free seat on an earlier flight and I managed to get it thanks to the airport manager knowing who I was and now I'm here" he explained

"What's wrong you don't seem very happy I thought you were excited to come here" he questioned

"I was but just now everyone was questioning how much you actually cared about me and our relationship" I admitted

"I'm sorry amor this is my fault if I was here earlier they wouldn't be so mean but I can show them now how much I really love you" he said

He left his suitcase by the door and gave me a quick kiss before I led him through to where all my family were sat. There was a long silence as everyone realised that they were wrong about Pablo. I knew from the second they all met him they'd love him as everyone does you can pretend to hate him but deep down there's no way anyone can't not like Pablo he's just too sweet. My mum pulled up a spare chair next to mine so Pablo could sit and I got him some food as I know he'll be hungry. He didn't get much chance to eat though as everyone wanted to ask him a million questions but he didn't seem to care at all he was more than happy to talk to everyone especially my cousins who were so excited to have a footballer as part of the family.

Dinner went a lot smoother with Pablo there and everyone apologised to me for thinking that Pablo wasn't a good boyfriend. In fact so many of my aunts and uncles as well as older cousins told me how lovely Pablo was and how obvious it was that he was that he was completely in love with me which was really nice to hear. I know Pablo loves me but to hear others say that they can tell just by watching us makes me happy as sometimes I get a bit insecure as Pablo and I don't exactly lead the same lives and I always worry he'll find someone better. We had a great time for the next few hours until it was time to go and everyone said their goodbyes and I had to make a promise to come home more often. I expected Pablo to be exhausted after so much traveling in just a few days but to my surprise he stayed awake for the entire car journey back to my parents talking to them while holding my waist and letting my head rest against his shoulder. Once I had helped him unpack Pablo wanted to go straight to bed so that's what we did but not before he smothered me in kisses.

~~~~~~~~~~

Most days I am woken up by Pablo's alarm as he gets up ridiculously early every morning but this morning was different. Just before my eyes opened I could feel something trailing up and down my side and as my eyes began to open I felt soft kisses being pressed to my neck and cheek. Being woken up by kisses I think might be by favourite way to wake up especially on Christmas and at home with my family. As soon as Pablo noticed that my eyes were open he pulled me on top of him and held me close like we hadn't seen each other in months even though it was just a few hours ago before we went to sleep.

"Merry Christmas preciosa" Pablo whispered

"Merry Christmas guapo" I whispered back

"How long were you waiting for me to wake up?" I asked

"Not too long you are a quite a light sleeper at times although I did spend a bit longer staring at you" he said

"Staring at me while I'm asleep that's a bit creepy don't you think" I laughed

"You just look so pretty I can't help it" he smiled

We joked around for a few more minutes before I rolled off of Pablo and out of bed pulling him up with me once my feet hit the ground. We both got changed into Christmas pyjamas as thats a tradition my family have we spend the day in Christmas pyjamas and seeing as it's Pablo's first Christmas with us my mum gave us both new matching ones to wear. Of course I had to take a few pictures of us in our matching pyjamas one of which I secretly sent to the rest of the team as I knew they'd like to see the pictures and tease Pablo about it. When we made our way downstairs the Christmas tree lights were already on and I could smell food cooking in the kitchen which meant my parents were already up and preparing for later. They greeted us both with a merry Christmas and we did the same before sitting down to enjoy the breakfast that had been made for us.

After breakfast it was time to open presents but as soon as I started sorting through the presents Pablo sprinted upstairs and came back downstairs with his stacked with presents. He handed a few of them to my parents then put the rest in front of me which earned him a glare as I told him not to get me too much but clearly he didn't listen. My parents opened their presents from Pablo first and he nailed it he got them both things they really liked. He refused to let me open any of my presents from him until last so everyone opened their other presents first then finally I was allowed to open mine.

Pablo really spoiled me. He got me the perfume I like, loads of new clothes from brands I could just tell were expensive even without knowing what they were. He also got me a really pretty dress which he told me was for a date that we were going to go on before we leave to go back to Barcelona. There was also lots of books as he knows I like to read and some new baking supplies as I'm always trying out new recipes and he's always trying what I make even though he says he shouldn't. Pablo got me so many things but when I thought I had finally opened them all he pulled out a small present from behind his back and handed it to me. The look on his face didn't really give anything away so I just took the wrapping paper off which left me with a little jewellery box. Inside the box was the prettiest gold ring with three tiny little diamonds across the top giving it a bit of sparkle but not too much at the same time. Pablo gently took the ring out of the box for me and then held my hand which made me look up at him.

"This is a promise ring I want you to have it because I know you're the one for me and in a few years I'll replace that with a real engagement ring but for now I want you to be able to wear this and be able to look at your hand at any time and know that I'm there for you and I love you more than words can describe" he said sliding the ring in my finger

"Thank you so much Pablo this ring is beautiful" I replied shakily trying not to cry

"A beautiful ring for the most beautiful girl I've ever met I know there are times that you don't feel that statement is true but I promise you are the only girl for me and this ring is there to remind you of that" he added

"I love you so much thank you" I said finally letting a few tears escape my eyes

"I love you more and don't even try to fight me on that" he laughed while wiping my tears

Of course my parents were both so happy for us and my mum had to take pictures of the both of us and of the ring to send to the rest of the family and Pablo sent some to his friends so my phone was blowing up for the rest of the day. I ignored it though as I was having such wonderful time playing board games and eating far too much food to really care about what was going on with my phone. This Christmas has been all I could've wished for getting to spend it with my family and my boyfriend at home has made for one of the best Christmases I have ever had and now I can't wait to do this again a few years down the road.

#gavi x reader #gavi imagine #gavi imagines #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi imagines #gavi #football imagine

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an-annyeoing-writer · 6 months

Text

vampire!Baekhyun x Reader: sweet bloody talk. [+18]

Word count: 7 479

Date of release: 5th November 2023

Warnings: s*xual content, mentions of blood.

Author's notes: @synthetickitsune I swear I had the entire draft ready before you posted yours, but I feel like we have one shared brain cell for some things LOL

The first thing you took note of upon entering the club was that the music was better than you expected from the mediocre and obscure premise. This type of music was not something you usually heard in dancing places – it was more on the heavy side, and it gave off the vibe of 80’s goths and black platform heels adorned with spikes. Not your regular music choice, but you couldn’t say that you were disappointed.

It was supposed to be just a few hours of relax. You felt a bit distraught recently, with books and other home entertainments feeling like you’re starting to drown in a routine. You needed a variety, even though your friends group consisted mostly of people who didn’t care for parties, and you yourself had no idea as to what people are supposed to do at one. Even the club was something you found online and not through a recommendation. You were shamelessly aware that you chose it just because the menu appeared cheaper than in others, and they would let ladies in for free if they wore heels. A bit sexist in your opinion, but free entry was free entry after all.

The place wasn’t too crowded, but the spots by the bar were all busy, and with the customers gathered around – a lot of them for such an early hour – you quickly came to a conclusion that you’d rather sit down somewhere else and look around to see if there’s anything for you to do.

You hated dancing.

It’s not that it was impossible to sway from one side to the other on repeat. But you were awfully aware how lame it must have looked while done by someone who didn’t represent excess of physical appeal, and so, since it didn’t bring you any joy either, you avoided it at all costs. For the same reason, the dancing floor was definitely not an interesting place to look at. And besides, everyone was still too sober for their dancing skills to become entertaining.

The spot you found, a bar chair by a tall, round table with the top made of glass, was a good lookout point. A row of tables like such was on a not so tall podium along the wall, so the heads of the people were a bit below and you could see the entire ground floor of the club very well. Guests were still coming in.

There was a part of the club, though, that, although in the range of your sight, didn’t appear reachable at all – the upper floor. A balcony with glass balustrade shined above the heads of all people gathered in the dancing floor. The VIP zone.

Your eyes, bored of looking down, traveled up automatically, trying to have a look at anyone there. You suspected that the VIP zone of such an average place was occupied by college students and corporates going at party nights. In fact, the only person that was looking out the balustrade at the moment, with his eyes fixated somewhere by the bar, was a tall and well-built boy who could as well be a basketball player, dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. You snorted quietly, realizing that in any of the books you read, he would be a multimillionaire, spotting an average girl in the crowd below, falling in love at the first sight…

“Whatcha looking at?”

You jumped and almost fell off your chair at the voice that sounded out next to you.

Your eyes shot to the person who was currently sitting in the chair next to yours, watching you with a polite, non-intrusive smile. Although the fact you didn’t notice him join in freaked you out, he didn’t appear ill-intended. Yet, you didn’t miss a small smirk in the corner of his lip at the sudden reaction that you graced his question with.

“Oh… Nothing, really, just people” you answered, composing yourself. A small part of you wanted to carry on some sort of conversation just to not stay completely alienated for the rest of the night. But the remaining part of you had no idea, how. “How’s your evening?” you asked out of no better choice.

The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and smiled widely, acknowledging that you’re not against the interaction.

“A bit boring, to be honest. I came here with some friends, but they all already busied themselves with stuff. What about you? Who did you come with?”

His voice was tender and careful, and his face looked very soft. You took a moment to acknowledge a simple baseball cap on his head, pulled on a bit too low so that he had to tilt his head backwards to see what’s on his eye level. He also wore a black, plain bomber jacket that made you think he’s a part of some college team – but there were no logos or other signs anywhere that would hint to his affiliation. In fact, you quickly came to the conclusion that it’s just his fashion choice.

“I actually came here alone” you blabbered without a second thought. “I’m not really a party person, to be honest…”

“Oh. I can tell.”

“Huh?”

Should you feel offended? Your face must have betrayed the uncertainty, because the man’s eyes widened and he visibly panicked at the social mistake.

“No, wait, sorry. It’s just that… if a stranger asks you about who you came with, even if you come alone, you should lie. It’s dangerous to let people know that.” he elaborated.

That actually made sense, you realized. Heck, you must have really had no self-preservation skills if you didn’t think of that before.

“Oh… I, um, thank you? For letting me know?” You scratched your head awkwardly.

He pressed his lips together – you took note of how his cheeks looked sort of cute and squishable when he did that – and smoothly hopped off the seat.

“I think it’s the time for me. Thank you for the talk.” He nodded his head politely and turned around, disappearing in the crowd before you could react appropriately.

You let out a defeated sigh. You came to this party to have a relaxing evening, but you must have messed up your possibly only chance to have a conversation with someone sober and not a creep. People were starting to slowly get drunk and you had a feeling that anytime soon, the only people coming up for a talk would be drunk college boys that the club was at this time of the year full of.

You glanced hopefully up at the glass balustrade of the VIP zone, but this time there was no one in sight.

It must have been around midnight when you looked at yourself in the club’s bathroom mirror, taking note of the tiredness heaving down your features. You were bored out of your mind, the music was echoing in your skull way too loud at this point, and the little alcohol you had in the meantime only made you a bit distraught rather than relaxed. Those were signs that it was definitely the time to go home.

You wrapped your trench coat around yourself as you left the building and went into the dark street. Cold wind hit your ankles, clad in nothing but a thin layer of stockings that you wore underneath the dress.

You stood nearby the main entrance, reaching out to your phone. You still contemplated whether to order a ride or to seek a cheaper alternative, seeing as the travel by feet must have not been too far from there, and maybe even you could even catch the night bus?

“Hi, are you alone?”

You whipped your head to where the voice was coming from, way too close for your liking.

A man was approaching you at a pace you weren’t sure if you should be comfortable with. His eyes were shining from the amount of alcohol consumed. He swayed to the sides ever so slightly as he walked.

It took you a solid moment to realize you’ve seen him once before – on the balustrade. He must have been on his way home as well.

“Um… I’m going home” you replied a bit shakily when he approached you. With how much taller than you he was, he didn’t have to try hard to hover above you in a hopefully unwittingly threatening posture.

“Will you be okay? I can get you a ride” he spoke sluggishly.

You couldn’t tell just how wary of him you should be; although he didn’t seem ingenuine and it was just the alcohol that made him appear creepy, you reminded yourself that it’s still a stranger. You glanced towards the club – the entry was a bit too far for your liking, but unless he became physical, you should be able to get back and ask for someone to help you out, was he to become too pushy.

“Please let me get you home” he suddenly spoke, sensing your unease. “I won’t bite you, I promise” he added. “I’ve already had enough for today, they don’t taste any good when I’m this drunk” he kept on blabbering and you lifted your eyebrow at the peculiarity of his statement.

“Chanyeol? What the hell are you doing here?”

The two of you turned around to look at the man coming from the club. The silhouette was too dark with the lights in the background, so you couldn’t make out his features well.

“Nothing” the man answered, shaking his head. “I just met this girl and she’s alone and I told her I won’t bite her but I think she’s scared of me” he whined.

Only when the newcomer came close enough, you realized that he also is not an unfamiliar face. The baseball cap betrayed him even before his squishy cheeks did. He spared you a glance and tilted his head to the side, apparently also acknowledging that you’re not a complete stranger. His eyes fell on his friend again.

“Aish, how would you get her home when you’re this drunk? Come and join the rest, we’ll be going home soon.”

“Then you take her home. She’s alone, Baekhyun, girls shouldn’t be alone. What if someone bites her when she’s alone?”

You frowned deeply, having no idea about what was all this weird conversation about. The man – Baekhyun – glanced at you once every few seconds, as though checking your reactions, and he was clearly displeased with the way things were going. He finally sighed.

“You talk too much, Yeol. Come on, let’s go.”

The man named Chanyeol huffed, but finally gave up and started moving back towards the entrance.

Baekhyun stayed behind, only making sure that his friend has gone in the right direction, and then looked at you with his face unreadable.

“Sorry for that. He didn’t mean anything bad, he just doesn’t control his tongue when he’s drunk.”

“Yeah… I could tell… Sorry.”

He lifted his eyebrow.

“Don’t say sorry when you haven’t done anything bad.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Are you sure it’s just parties that you’re not into? It looks like you don’t have much human interaction at all” he commented with a smirk. You laughed awkwardly.

“I usually handle it better, really. Not like, very good, but I swear I’m not an alien.”

He laughed warmly.

“Thank God, I was starting to consider giving you a ride too, but what if I had to get you back on another planet? Don’t have enough gas for that” he joked. It was quite lame of a joke, but you couldn’t help but utter a small laugh. After a bit of alcohol and at this hour, it was hard not to go alone with the lame sense of humor.

“Was it your way of offering a ride?” you dared to ask.

Baekhyun grinned.

“Maybe. Would you like?”

“I…” You bit on your lip, suddenly realizing that the offer had probably more to it than a mere act of kindness. “…don’t want to give you hope for something I can’t give” you stated carefully.

The man’s smile fell.

“Don’t ever worry about things like that. It’s not your problem if someone gets hope for something you never offered yourself. I just felt like giving you a ride, you don’t need to think of ways to return a favor or anything.” He appeared satisfied with his speech, and hid hands in the pockets of his jacket, soft and reassuring smile returning to his face.

You released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, a relief washing over you and a smile appearing on your own face as well.

“That’s… nice” you only answered. “In this case, I’d love to get home with you. I… I mean-” you realized your words were a bit ambiguous. “…You know what I mean.”

Baekhyun only laughed warmly.

“I know, I know. Come on, I parked nearby.” He pulled car keys out of his pocket and swung them in the air. “But, by the way, don’t just accept rides from strangers. It’s dangerous.”

Baekhyun’s car was more comfortable than the public transport you were used to, and also sitting in the front felt way nicer than the backseats of a taxi. The music was calmer and quieter than in the club, and although it also wasn’t the genre you were used to, it almost lulled you to sleep as the two of you sat in a pleasant silence for about half of the ride.

“Won’t your friends get worried that you didn’t come back to them?” you eventually spoke, trying to start a conversation. Your time together appeared to be limited, and you didn’t want to waste a chance to get to know the man better.

“I shot them a message” Baekhyun replied with his gaze fixated on the changing lights and the cars in the intersection. “I wasn’t drinking because I was supposed to be their ride but they also met some people at the party, so they’ll be fine” he elaborated.

“Ah, I see. Well. I’m lucky that you were supposed to be the ride anyway” you shrugged. Baekhyun smiled at that but didn’t continue the conversation.

You were still a few minutes away from your apartment and you really, really didn’t want the ride to end so quickly. Even silence in Baekhyun’s presence was just too comfortable. How was it possible that you felt so much ease with a man you barely met? Maybe it was because his comments regarding your safety seemed to be genuine, and you appreciated them. Maybe they were just his way of getting your trust, but you just didn’t seem to mind.

There were still other questions you could use to get him to talk to you.

“I just recalled, what were those things your friend was talking about? I know he was drunk, but he mentioned biting like two or three times. What’s up with that?”

Baekhyun’s eyes narrowed slightly. Slight tension in his jaw didn’t pass your attention either.

“Uh…” He shrugged after a moment of thought. “Consider it an inside joke in our group of friends.”

“An inside joke?” You genuinely laughed. “Maybe you’re the aliens? What if your car gets me on the Moon instead of home?”

The man laughed awkwardly.

“Well, we’re peculiar in our own ways. But I promise the car is earthly” he assured with a grin.

You knew the area pretty well and it didn’t take long before you arrived at your address, Baekhyun’s car coming to a stop almost opposite of the building entry. The man turned the engine off and got up, opening the door for you before you even prepared yourself to leave the vehicle. You got out hurriedly and quickly straightened your clothes.

“You good? You got everything?” he asked, glancing at the seat to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything. You nodded.

“Thank you. Really.”

“You’re welcome.” His voice was tender and calm, but you had a feeling that the unspoken question is there.

You cleared your throat.

“Um… Would you… like to come upstairs?”

“Hm?”

Because of what he said before, you were certain he did not want to make any assumptions or take things for granted. Yet, you didn’t want to leave him in the dark, and you were positive that for his honesty, he deserved some transparency from your side as well.

“Just…”

Yet, were you ready to offer more than you initially planned? What was there to lose, after all?

But how would you feel if he rejected you, or if you didn’t meet the expectations – that was so not like you to offer such a thing, and you never wanted to have short-term partners to begin with.

But Baekhyun clearly was a gentleman, and if he was to reject you, it would have to be out of care and not because you disappointed him. Or at least you desperately wanted to believe so.

And besides, why would he reject you if he went out of his way to give you a ride home? Even if he was mature enough not to expect anything, it’s not like he would offer it to someone who didn’t spike at least an ounce of his interest.

“[F/n]?”

You jumped at the sound of your name; you must have drowned in your thoughts instead of answering the question.

“Oh. Sorry. I um… It’s not a situation I’m usually in. But I just… don’t want this evening to end this fast.”

“You know you don’t owe me anything, right?” He announced calmly, but there was some shade of threat in the way he said it, as if there was something urging him to give you the last chance to take it back and part your ways.

“I know. That’s why I don’t promise anything. But I want to try. You’re… fun to be around.”

At that, his face instantly lightened, and he chuckled softly.

“Thank you. You’re fun to be around, too.”

The night was chilly, and so you welcomed with gratitude the warmth that surrounded you the moment you entered your apartment. The place was rather decent as for one person inhabiting it, and you rented it at a rather cheap price from an elderly lady who at some age decided to move in with her family. Although you were allowed to refurnish it, you actually enjoyed the old style of creaking floor and black-and-white pictures on the walls covered in an old wallpaper. Even the old TV remained in its place, although it wasn’t catching the signal anymore. Baekhyun looked around curiously.

“You live here alone?” he asked.

“Yeah. But it’s not mine, I’m renting for another few years” you elaborated while taking off your coat and shoes, motioning for Baekhyun to do the same. “I’d like to buy my own but it’s still a while before I can even afford a mortgage.” The man nodded slowly in acknowledgment, following you cautiously as you soon entered the kitchen, turning on all the small lights on the way, making sure that the whole apartment was at least partially lit. “Bathroom is over there if you need” you briefly waved in the right doors’ direction. “You want something to eat?”

Baekhyun’s metaphorical ears perked up. He saw you point at the fridge.

“Oh. Maybe later, thank you.”

“Later?” you grinned. “Just how long are you planning to stay in here?” you teased.

“Hm.” He smiled shyly. “As long as you let me” he purred. You were focused on checking the cabinet’s contents for some quick snack when you heard him shift right behind you, hands hovering around your waist, although not touching just yet.

Your breath hitched. A pack of chocolate chip cookies slipped out of your grasp and fell on the counter below.

“Dammit” you mumbled, reaching to pick it up.

When you turned around, Baekhyun was sitting at your small table, elbow resting on the tabletop and chin on his hand in a fairly confident, although charming – in a way – pose.

“You want some?” You asked mindlessly, putting the cookies on the table and sitting on the second chair awkwardly.

“Later, thank you” he repeated; you internally cringed, realizing it made it seem that you didn’t listen to him earlier.

“Want something to drink then? I imagine you must be at least a bit tired after the party” you offered, feeling a bit awkward about eating the cookies all alone and not providing him with any sort of entertainment in the meantime.

“Don’t worry. It’s nice to just rest in the quiet after all that loud music” Baekhyun said with a gentle smile.

“Is that really so? Or do you just avoid midnight snacking?” you teased, trying to at least carry on with a small-talk.

You caught him stare straight in your eyes, and you felt a shiver run down your spine at his unreadable face.

“I actually believe that a good snack is a good snack regardless of the time” he announced in a tone that made you wonder.

He stood up right as you finished your cookie and came up to you. You observed him curiously as he knelt down, slowly finding himself between your parted knees.

His eyes never left yours, watching out for any signs of discomfort or disagreement.

You felt taken aback by his boldness, feeling your face heat up at the unusual closeness, but you definitely weren’t about to refuse.

His hands finally touched your knees, leaning on them for stability. Your dress was riding up a bit, but not enough to show anything yet.

“May I?” His lips hovered over the skin of your thigh where it was already exposed.

You almost caught yourself nodding mindlessly, but the loud pounding of your heart brought you back to reality.

“W-what?” you stuttered.

“Kiss your leg” he specified with a small, warm laugh that both calmed you and embarrassed you even more at once. “May I?”

“Yes” you answered quickly before you could lose control over your voice again.

More serious again, Baekhyun leaned down and pressed a slow, chaste kiss into your heated skin. Then another, a bit higher, but still as if the edge of your dress was a border he wasn’t going to cross. His both hands massaged the outer sides of your knees.

“You’re so nervous” the man noted, at which your face got even redder.

“Well, uh…”

“Do I make you shy?” he teased. You stuttered incoherently in response.

Baekhyun let out a soft laughter, pushing himself up and extending his hand to help you up as well. You followed and fixed your dress in hurry.

“U-uh.”

You awkwardly wavered your hand towards the bedroom’s door, hoping the man gets the hint, knowing that your voice would betray you completely, were you to utter such a bold request.

But he didn’t even look in that direction, his hand reaching to your chin instead and he lifted your face up, placing a small kiss on your cheek.

“Oh. Thank you.”

At that, he laughed even louder.

“Thank you? Really?”

“What else was I supposed to answer…?” you huffed, not sure if he was trying to insult you with the mockery.

“No, no, don’t worry, it was actually quite a cute thing to say” he explained.

“Oh, well…”

His fingers gently brushed your lips, and all the thoughts left your mind as you let him maneuver your face towards his. Warm breath hit your nose as he looked down at you from up close, all small details of his face so sharp and clear, and his glistening eyes fixated on the way your face subtly changed in reaction to his doings.

He tilted his head to the side, smirk present on his soft-looking lips, and you felt as though at that exact moment, he had you right in his grasp – up to the heart of yours beating exactly as he conducted, you thought.

With another peck to your other cheek, he suddenly pulled away.

You swayed, feeling like you’re going to collapse the moment his fingers no longer kept your face in place. You were lightheaded. Baekhyun was proud of himself.

He stepped towards the corridor that led to your bedroom, and this time, it was you who followed.

He crossed the door, glancing over his shoulder as if to make sure you’re not lost on your way.

And right when you thought that at least this small part of your way will be peaceful and almost boring, this one, small thing came to your vision, turning everything upside down.

Right ahead of yourself, behind Baekhyun’s silhouette, on the wall. A mirror, adorned with an antique, golden frame, one you used every day to get ready, one that had been there ever since you remembered, and one that was the last thing in the world you’d expect to surprise you.

You looked closely; your eyes couldn’t be possibly playing tricks. It was just you with all the walls and furnishings that you knew.

But Baekhyun, standing there and glancing at you, did not reflect in that mirror.

You froze in place, staring in your own eyes of the reflection. The man’s smile fell, noting the sudden change of mood. Catching your gaze, he followed it, turning his back to you. His own eyes finally fell on the mirror and he gawked.

“Oh. Oh, wow.”

Without waiting for you to speak any of the thoughts currently hurling in your mind, he slowly walked over to the mirror as if just about as surprised as you were, but with genuine curiosity as well. His hand reached but stopped right before touching the smooth surface, and instead grazed the mirror’s frame, admiring the piece of fine furniture.

You stood in your place, still uncertain how to react. But he did not seem as confused, you realized – as if, although not expecting the phenomenon, he knew exactly what it was caused by.

“Fascinating…” he finally spoke in a soft voice. “Really, I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen one like this” he talked with childlike thrill. “It’s old, isn’t it?” He looked back at you, but his smile fell once again, noting you were nowhere close to sharing his excitement.

He let go of the mirror’s frame and took a step towards you, face tense and determined.

Something in you screamed, some sort of self-preservation instinct reminded you of its presence, calling out to you: this is a threat! This isn’t normal! It’s a sign, run!

Can’t move.

You stood there, completely stunned, as Baekhyun finally closed the proximity, finding himself right in front of you.

Was it some sort of manipulation, or was it just you – that the fear in your guts somehow mixed with arousal?

“What… is that?” you dared to ask in a tone as tough as you could make it.

He stepped that one step too close, making you stumble backwards. One step more, one more, and he had you leaning against the wall by the bedroom’s door, somewhat cornered, yet with enough room to flee if you so wished.

“If…” Hearing his voice this close made you flinch slightly, and he turned his tone down a bit. “If you tell me to leave, I’ll leave. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The last words made the heart thump in your chest.

“But… you could.”

“I could.”

“Were you going to?”

He didn’t reply for a moment, breathing in deeply.

“Not… much.”

You stared at him, still uncertain and confused.

“Who are you?”

He stepped back again. Your eyes moved between his silhouette and the mirror behind when he stood right next to it, giving you the best picture of his non-reflecting self.

“I’ll give you a fun fact instead” he announced, lips curling into a grin again. “Your mirror is very old. I actually don’t remember the last time I’ve had this happen to me. Because mirrors nowadays don’t do that. Do you know why?”

You had no clue what he was going at – you shook your head.

“Because mirrors nowadays are usually made of glass and aluminum. Or stuff like that, I’m not so sure, really” he shrugged, unbothered. You still weren’t able to finish the thought off, a small piece still lacking for you to understand it. Baekhyun sensed that, and he patiently continued – speaking the last few words to put all of the puzzle together for you. “What they used to be made of in the past?”

You gawked at him.

“…” The breath got caught in your throat. “Silver. They… They used to be made of silver.”

“Voila.” Baekhyun spread his arms, as if presenting himself to you. “And before you try to think of all the possible creatures that have silver allergy written into their lore, just know I’m not the only one you had a chance to meet tonight.”

You recalled the stranger you met at the bar, Baekhyun’s friend whose words had spiked your curiosity the moment they echoed in the dark street.

I won’t bite you, I promise.

What if someone bites her when she’s alone?”

His eyes sparkled as he watched all the small bits come together in your head. Slow enlightenment displayed within your facial expressions with hundreds of subtle emotions, and piece by piece, the deduction snowballed, becoming more and more apparent, bared for him to drink the sadistic satisfaction from.

That was when you recalled his own words.

A good snack is a good snack regardless of the time.

“You… were going to bite me?” you finally uttered, voice breaking with every syllable.

He let his arms fall to his sides, smile softening, head tilted slightly backwards – your eyes spotted his fangs, sharper and whiter than human teeth, exposed by him for you to admire.

“If you tell me to leave now, I’ll leave” he repeated, but his tone made it clear that he already knew you weren’t going to do that.

In fact, even you knew from a while ago that your curiosity was too strong to let him off the hook – you felt like you caught a sort of urban legend, and you’d hate yourself for letting him flee without getting a hold of all his secrets.

Ultimately, though, it was the sensation of getting preyed on by him that – you realized – lit a fire inside of your body, and made your insides burn with want.

“Stay, please” you uttered in a small voice, as if too shy to request something this impure. “I want to know… more” you whispered, convincing yourself to look back at him. Your eyes fell on his fangs again, so unnaturally sharp despite not appearing that much longer than in a human. You recalled when he kissed your thigh earlier, and shivered, realizing how close it was, how easily he could have…

“You’re thinking too much” he suddenly interrupted, noting that you were so endorsed in the chaotic train of thoughts that you were just hyping yourself into anxiety at this point.

He lifted his hand towards your face, slowly and carefully, as if to test the waters. You weren’t sure if you should let him. Maybe, in some twisted way, it would be easier if he didn’t ask – if he just grabbed you and forcefully bit into your neck, so you could experience that mysterious sensation of falling a prey to possibly the only creature on the earth that could realistically impose threat to the mankind. You felt a nervous, but exciting sensation in your gut.

You didn’t even manage to react before his fingers gently brushed your cheek. You were already a goner, leaning into his hand on instinct. The fear became thrill instead.

“Here you go, good girl” he whispered with content.

Not waiting any further, he leaned down and buried his face in the crook of your neck. You let out a small whimper when his lips touched your heated up skin. You felt his fangs graze the sensitive surface, but no pain followed, only the sweet feeling of a chaste, open-mouthed kiss.

“Oh…”

He kissed slowly down your cleavage, hands running down your silhouette along with his lips. He breathed into the space where the hem of your dress ended, not daring to go further. You were still stunned, still too shaken to invite him in, but you didn’t oppose even one bit when he put his hands below your thighs and lifted you up, your arms automatically anchoring around his neck.

He was so gentle with you when he carried you over to your bed and placed you down on your back with utmost care. The bed sheets were cold below your body, your dress doing close to nothing to soothe the sudden sensation. But Baekhyun’s – against what you would think – was impossibly warm against yours when he hovered above you for a few moments, your legs wrapped around his waist just a bit longer. He placed another kiss on your cheek.

“May I?” you whispered.

“Hm?”

“Kiss your lips.” You cupped his face with your hands. “May I?”

“Go ahead.”

It seemed like he did it on purpose, not leaning in to make it any easier for you, and you had to strain yourself to reach him. Your lips touched, the sensation – absolutely breathtaking. His fingers gently wrapped around your neck, pushing you down into the mattress, but following the motion with his own mouth, deepening the kiss with a sense of roughness, overpowering you in a way. He nibbled at your lower lip, letting you feel the sharp edge of his fangs.

“Will you bite me?

“I think I will.”

“Why haven’t you yet?”

He broke the kiss and smirked down at you.

“Are you impatient?”

“Do you want me to beg for it?” you uttered, trying to sound irritated, although at heart knowing that you were close to doing so anyway. You were, in fact, impatient.

“Maybe later. Will you?”

“I…”

He didn’t let you finish, his grip on your thighs suddenly strengthening and you yelped, feeling his nails dig hard into your flesh. Your breath instantly quickened, sensation quickly becoming unbearable.

Taking all the time in the world, he finally released the hold, stroking your abused skin in comfort instead.

“Easy, love. See? It’s just my fingers. You wouldn’t take my fangs just yet.”

He knelt back between your legs. Your dress’ lower hem was almost at your underwear from being carried by him earlier, and Baekhyun’s hands traced up your bare thighs, once again taking note of any sign of discomfort or displeasure.

You felt nervous, more than ever. Not only because you weren’t used to such casual endeavors. Something in you felt stressed about disappointing such a superior creature, still feeling like it’s a one-in-the-lifetime chance that you got.

Baekhyun seemed to sense your worry perfectly, and he leaned down to ground you with a kiss to your knee.

“You’re beautiful” he spoke with no ounce of hesitation or doubt. “And you smell delicious” he added. Such a peculiar thing to hear, you thought, yet your face heated up, as if the second compliment was much more meaningful than the first. “May I… taste you down here?” His hand slid down your inner thigh, stopping at your dress.

You opened your mouth, but, quickly realizing your voice won’t align with your intentions, you instead nodded – a bit too eagerly, involuntarily holding your breath.

He took all the time in the world, allowing you to get accustomed to his touch as he slowly lifted your dress, finally displaying your underwear, at which you let out a small, shy whimper. He pushed the fabric even higher, and you took the hint to sit up and take it off fully, now left in nothing but a black lingerie – a set you almost only wore to parties when you wanted to feel especially well put-together, and now you silently thanked yourself for this habit.

He now moved up and kissed the skin between your breasts, smoothly tracing his lips down to your stomach and stopping briefly above the hem of your panties, fingers hooking around the edge. With one last glance at your burning up face, Baekhyun slowly pulled your underwear down, taking his sweet time and enjoying the way you only squirmed quietly, held right at the edge of sanity with such a simple interaction.

“Breathe” he reminded you, discarding the fabric to the side, his own exhale hitting your private parts, now exposed for him to see.

He placed yet another comforting kiss on your mound.

“You’re okay, you’re safe” he whispered.

Although his words comforted you, he didn’t wait for you to calm down; quite the opposite, in fact, when he finally put his mouth around your pearl, overwhelming you with just the proximity. His eyes were fixated on yours in a predator-like way, drinking in your reactions and gaining sadistic pleasure from the way you could no longer control your body.

The room filled with wet noises that mixed with your own voice. Your moans slowly became more and more obscene as Baekhyun’s mouth worked shamelessly around your private parts with care, yet ease, as if he knew all bits of your body and didn’t even need to think twice, getting all the sensations, all the pressure, all the pace – perfectly right, pulling you further and further into the immense pleasure.

You were ready to relax and fall deep into the sensations, when he suddenly dug his nails into your thighs again, forcing you awake.

You yelped and tried to squirm away, but his hold only strengthened. Your breath hitched when you took the cue to stay still until the grasp once again dissipated.

“Don’t you feel too good?” he mocked. You glanced back at him – his eyes were shining red, face darker than just moments ago, threatening.

“B-Baekhyun…”

Should you feel scared at that moment? Should you understand that this man was a monster? Maybe. But it felt just too good to be in his hands, to be toyed with and hurt so sweetly. It was like a reward to know that out of all people, he chose you as his prey. There was some primal pleasure in being this little, naive girl that fell right into his trap, that allowed him to sweet-talk her into giving up her will of survival.

In a surge of confidence, you put your hand on top of his head, pushing him to resume what he was doing so well just moments ago. Baekhyun didn’t object, only letting out an amused huff when his lips wrapped around your clit once again, sucking on it gently and letting you once again melt in the sweet sensation. Your fingers clutched his hair, letting you release some of the tension, and when he hummed into your skin, you held it so tightly you for a second worried about causing him pain.

But he didn’t say a word and you quickly realized, it must have not bothered him in the slightest. His eyes slipped closed, now fully fixated on devouring you, hands holding your hips down to prevent you from squirming, hold just a bit too strong, just to cause you the slightest amount of pain, just to remind you what he was capable of.

Your whole body trembled, approaching the sweet release. Baekhyun’s mouth was relentless, and he read your reactions perfectly, his pace and movements perfectly designed to drive you insane.

With your thighs pressing together, you clutched his hair even harder. You were starting to convulse, letting out incoherent whimpers. Baekhyun’s fingers, dug into your thighs so strong you wouldn’t be surprised if they drew blood, no longer hurt – it was all mixing together, the proximity of his existence alone already overwhelming your senses, but the passion, the warmth, the textures, the sounds – it all sucked you in further and further, riding you off any remains of sanity that you may have had left.

Suddenly, right as you were about to reach the peak, everything stopped for less than a second; a void so sudden you didn’t even manage to register it.

And then, like a thunder through your body, Baekhyun’s fangs pierced the soft skin around your clit. He sucked hard on both your blood and your pearl, and you instantly came undone, crying out in pleasure and agony.

Your vision went white for what felt like ages and you felt like you were floating in the outer space; for those heavenly moments, you were not even sure if you’re still alive, but your thoughts mingled and dissipated too fast to formulate a coherent sentence. Whether Baekhyun was still there or not, you would not be able to tell; your mind was blank, and he could as well have left you moments ago – except the pain that was slowly starting to materialize again was an excellent proof that he was still present, and when your body finally came down from its high, you managed to register him down there, still between your thighs, with his arms wrapped around them in an almost loving-like manner.

You had absolutely no idea when did he bit into your thigh instead, letting your most fragile bits calm down from the overstimulation, but it looked like he was so endorsed in tasting your sweet blood that it took you a few long moments before he finally acknowledged you’re watching him. Your lower body was limp, small shivers running here and there, but any pain no longer present, your flesh too worn out to take note of it.

Sensing your gaze, Baekhyun slowly pulled his fangs out of your skin, carefully as to not damage it further, and then sent you a smug, bloody smile, hand caressing your hip.

“Welcome back” he spoke. “Took you a while.”

You tried to push yourself into the sitting position, but even your arms wouldn’t listen, and you fell back down in exhaustion.

Maybe it was merciful of him to climb up and hover above you, letting you look at his full figure even when you could no longer move to watch him yourself. A drop of your blood slipped from the corner of his lip, landing on your own. You curiously reached to it with your tongue, and Baekhyun didn’t wait a second, pressing his lips into your own, taking that sweet droplet back but giving you a taste of the metallic flavor in its full glory. A short, but rough nib to your lip made you let out a small, helpless whimper, tears emerging in the corners of your eyes – with the amount of overstimulation, even that much was already too much, and you were so worn out, so weak, so overdone.

“Just a bit more, love.”

His lips once again found themselves on your neck, kissing so tenderly that you barely felt it.

The prickling pain that followed no longer caused you to recoil; your body was growing weak, too weak to handle it anymore. You were getting drained beyond the stage of quick recovery, and you could tell, there was nothing you could do at this point to stop it.

Just a bit more, just a few more sips.

“You taste so good.”

Biting into the top of your breast now, closer to your heart. You didn’t feel it anymore, only phantom sensations somewhere far away.

You were at the brink of unconsciousness when he finally pulled away. A bit carelessly, he knelt up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, dark burgundy-shining eyes fixated on your fading ones.

Although you still had it in yourself to look back at him, the world around you was gradually collapsing, and it was only those burgundy eyes that kept you right above the surface, but so about to drown.

“My… I may have overdone it. Are you still there?”

He sounded marginally worried, as if coming across a small incident, and not a human life that was on the line.

You blinked and moved your fingers ever so slightly, just to let him know you’re still conscious, although barely.

The man smiled at that softly, clear relief washing over his face.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of that.”

He reached to your cheek, patting it gently. It felt a bit grotesque; his skin was so warm as opposed to yours, chill from the lack of blood and paler than ever.

But his touch felt nice, and, although you knew that the slumber you’d fall into would not be natural and the next hours would possibly decide your fate, it felt like you were falling into a dream instead; you were growing addicted to his presence, and you could do nothing to stop it. You were a goner.

“I’ll make sure of that, because I cannot possibly waste a fine snack like you. It’s just the beginning, love. Better recover fast.”

Ahh, I'm actually proud of this one, hope you guys enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing! Also don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts, and hopefully, more vampire content will be coming in the future!

#vampire exo #exo x reader #vampire baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #exo fanfiction #exo reader insert #exo x you #baekhyun x you #vg: exo #vg: baekhyun #vg: fanfiction

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captainkirkk · 1 year

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

ATLA

Perfection is Overrated by JaggedCliffs (+ podfic) (NOTE: I've recced this fic before and I'll rec it again. When I die, I want to be buried with this fic)

For his first thirteen years, Zuko was raised in a palace. And yet somehow, it's the three years outside the Fire Nation that seem to count more – at least to the palace staff, who act like he's been raised by fox-wolves.

At first, this only annoys Zuko.

Until he begins to think that the Fire Nation needs more than a formerly-banished prince.

a brush of fingers, a kick of shins by lesmiserablol (+ podfic)

"Okay, I’ve been thinking all day, and here’s my idea,” Toph tells Zuko on their way to dinner. “You’re so sure he’s not into you, so I’m going to help you out and give you a gentle nudge every time he flirts so that you notice it.”

“Okay,” Zuko says slowly. He doubts it will be necessary, he and Sokka have been best friends for over five years now and that is probably all that Sokka thinks of him as. A good friend. “I don’t know if it’ll come up, but if it does...just don’t make it obvious, yeah?”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” Toph smiles. Zuko knows her fairly well, he knows he should be worried at that, but he just follows her into the dining hall.

Stranger Things

who wants to live forever? by starbeyy

In which Steve Harrington has two nightmares: The one he has about the fire at the Starcourt Mall every time he falls asleep, and the one where Eddie Munson visits him at Family Video to ask him for a favor.

shape it up (get it straight) by fivecenturiesverse (+ podfic)

Mike doesn't know when he started caring why Steve and Eddie are friends now, but Dustin has made him curious. Eddie and Steve were enemies before, sort of. So why are they now best friends? They've just got to do a bit of surveillance to work this puzzle out. If Mike accidentally finds out he has feelings for his best friend along the way then... well, shit.

“At least I’m not using binoculars.” Mike shoots a derisive look over at Dustin. “Like we’re not in the middle of the high street, if they spot us how are you going to explain away those, huh?”

“Bird watching,” says Dustin. “My new hobby.”

Lucas punches him on the arm. “God you’re so fucking stupid.”

“You gave them to me!”

Shadowhunters

Portable Magic by smilebackwards

Magnus may go slightly overboard helping Alec set up for the book club gathering.

Technically, perhaps, he didn’t need to create a signature cocktail or barter a favor to Raphael for O neg blood for the vampires or source the biscotti directly from Italy. But hospitality is important and these are Alec’s friends. He wants to make a good impression.

Or: Alec is in a Downworld book club and Magnus finds this unaccountably fascinating.

count the ways by smilebackwards

"I know the nephilim have some truly skewed perspectives on our history and culture but have you ever seen anything like this before?” Magnus holds out the book, open to Warlock Courting Traditions. The text only takes up half a page, a mystifying run-on list of odd and impossible tasks. It’s formatted almost like poetry and his dear, pedantic Alexander has turned it into a checklist, penciled lightly down the margin.

Ragnor snorts into his tea.

“Oh,” Catarina says, looking at the book. “That."

In somno veritas (In sleep lies the truth) by lawsofchaos (+podfic)

Jace blinks, peering at the loft in vague stupefaction. “This,” and Alec’s parabatai’s voice sounds like he’s dragging each noise out from his exhausted mind and forcing it out before he can forget what word he just discovered. “Isn’t the Institute?” The final phrase comes out as a question.

Alec tilts his head in puzzlement, glancing at his brother as if wondering how he could possibly consider that Alec had taken them there instead of here. “No?”

Alec’s head moves back to level and he narrows his eyes instead. “We said we were going home after patrol.”

The ‘ergo, we are home now’ wasn’t said, but it was obvious in implication.

bloom by smilebackwards

Alec loves watching Izzy get flowers but he thinks he would have liked, just once, to know what it felt like for someone to send him something so bright and sweet, frivolous, just because they cared.

#the shadowhunter fics made me SO soft #thank you to fic authors for making me feel incredibly single #now i know how isabelle lightwood feels #weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #shadowhunter recs #stranger things recs #atla recs #podfic available

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cosplayinamerica · 7 months

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Anime conventions and their Yamato roots

by Dave Merrill

“Conventional” (ha ha) wisdom says that the first American convention devoted to Japanese animation was Project A-Kon 1990 in Dallas, Texas. This prototypical event was instigated by a group of Texas anime fans gathered under the banner of Star Blazers’“Earth Defense Command,” a Space Battleship Yamato fan club that grew to embrace all of Japanese animation. As of this writing, Project A-Kon is preparing for its 20th show.

But was A-Kon the first anime convention in North America? No. Not even close. For years, we’d seen references and offhand comments about a “YamatoCon” that was held in the Dallas area years earlier. Were these references true? Our crack team of researchers donned their explorer togs, dusted off their pith helmets, and began the harrowing search for enlightenment. Well, to be honest we sent some emails. Here’s what we found…

The first YamatoCon – that is to say, the first American fan convention devoted to Japanese animation – was held on August 13, 1983 at the Harvey Hotel in Dallas Texas. This one-day affair was the brainchild of Mark Hernandez, Don Magness, and Bobb Waller, each of whom had experience in the Dallas comics/SF fandom community and each of whom put up their own hard-earned cash to make YamatoConhappen. Scheduled the next-to-last weekend before school started, Mark Hernandez remembers the planning being as simple as getting commitments from dealers, finding a venue, and setting a date. Yes, it really is that easy to start a convention.

Programming consisted of the first 26 episodes of Star Blazersrecorded off TV, shown in continuous order (minus commercials, of course) and a bonus Yamato film. This 13-hour Journey to Iscandar (“It was a long day,” says Mark) was a primary attraction at YamatoCon, 1983 being a time when VCRs and blank VHS tape were expensive, collections of Star Blazers on video were hard to come by, and the experience of watching Star Blazers outside the morning or afternoon UHF timeslot was a draw in and of itself.

Star Blazers on video wasn’t the only activity, of course. Like other conventions past and future, YamatoCon had a dealers room consisting of 22 tables of for-sale memorabilia. It might sound small by the standards of 25 years later, but we must remember that anime merchandise of the day – what was available in the States, anyway – hadn’t achieved the tidal wave proportions it would reach in the wake of Robotech, to say nothing of the total saturation of the post-Pokemon, post-Sailor Moon years. Anime merchandise in 1983 consisted chiefly of books and model kits. Roman Albums, Anime Comics, black and white manga volumes, the occasional manga weekly, and other publications streaming from Japan in the wake of the Yamato Boom battled for the anime fan dollar alongside model kits from Yamato, Crusher Joe and My Youth In Arcadia…not to mention the endless ranks of giant robot kits from unseen shows like Mobile Suit Gundam, Dougram, Ideon, and something called Macross.Along with the remnants of late 70s super-robot merchandise sold here as Shogun Warriors, the anime con dealers room in the early 1980s was far from barren. In fact, I still waste my money on that sort of stuff.

Also available at YamatoCon were copies of Mark Hernandez and Don Magness’s Star Blazers fanzine Argo Notes. Future EDC officer/contributor, fan artist and “Between Galaxies” author Logan Darklighter won the model contest with, naturally, a Yamatomodel. It proved to be a pivotal day in Texas anime fandom. Approximately 100 attendees and 8 dealers made the show an unqualified success. Don remembers it this way: “I remember we got to the hotel early and set up the rooms, then went out to breakfast. When we got back, there were 3 young men sitting on the front steps, one of them had a convention flyer. Mark asked if they were there for the con, and they said they were. We went inside and out of their hearing range and had a little celebration. 3 people had come! We had no idea that the place would soon be packed.”

A showing of 100 might not sound like a lot in today’s numbers (“that was about 100 more than we expected,” said Don). However, when considered against the attendance at general SF conventions in 1983 – a time when your absolute largest cons MIGHT draw five or six thousand attendees and your typical Dallas or Atlanta comic book show maxed out at three – YamatoCon‘s ability to nail down that many dealers and customers is commendable.

The show’s importance went beyond the one day; people across Texas and indeed, across fandom as a whole, who were unable to attend or who heard about it after the fact were spurred into action by the mere fact of YamatoCon‘s existence. That such a thing could happen – that Americans could organize and hold a successful anime convention – was both revelation and reassurance. Anime fandom was going to be more than just a video room grudgingly tacked onto the local Star Trek show or a half-page of merchandise in the back of the latest issue of Fangoria.

READ THE REST HERE https://ourstarblazers.com/vault/317/

#Fandom history #anime fandom history #convention history #con history #anime cons #Yamato Con

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aoibhinnslater04 · 11 months

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Kanej AU

The scene (specifically from the series rather than the books but basically the bathroom scene) where Nina doesn’t interrupt them and Kaz doesn’t decide to sabotage himself

Basically a whole load of Kanej angst!!

Word count: 1697

Requested by @arany-studio

TW: mentions of rape, trauma, injuries

Kaz walked into the small room to find Inej packing her knives. He saw her pause at the sound of his steps, her head tilting slightly towards him, before she resumed sorting her knives.

"You've been lying low?" he asked, his voice rough.

"I've been gathering Intel on Pekka's assassin. I've discovered my bladesmith supplies him with bone-cutters and fillet knives," she responded, still not looking at him.

"Taxidermy tools," Kaz choked out.

"His name's Mogens. I've got his address,"

"That must have cost you."

Inej cut him off. "A new set of blades." She paused before continuing. "He intends on taking me alive, so he can put me back in the Menagerie."

"I won't let that happen," Kaz said gruffly.

"And why should I believe you?" Inej asked, sharply, turning to face him at last. "We were ambushed, Kaz. Whatever this is, this blood feud you have with Pekka Rollins, I don't believe it's about some Saints-forsaken club! You are gambling with our lives and I deserve to know the reason! You owe me that much," she spat out, the first time Kaz had truly seen her angry. She always managed to find something positive about every situation, even being taken by slavers, sold to a Menagerie where she was abused and raped nearly every day, because her parents and brother weren’t there with her, they were safe, they were alive. Suddenly a bright red staining her sleeve caught Kaz's eye.

"Inej, your arm," he whispered, his eyes fixed on the blood spilling out of her. She paused and glanced down, before sighing and rolling her eyes. She seemed to whisper a silent prayer for patience before removing her shirt, leaving her with just a vest on. She checked the bandage, before removing it, wincing. Kaz looked away, unable to bear it, before finally answering her question.

"Pekka Rollins killed my brother."

He felt Inej stiffen slightly, and heard her turn to face him. There was a long moment of silence, as she searched his half-hidden face, before finding whatever it was she was looking for.

"Then we destroy him."

Kaz turned his head quickly up to face her, and saw the openness and anger in her face. She meant it, too. They shared a look, a brief moment where they were both just two people in pain, where they could get comfort from each other, before Inej winced again, and the moment shattered. She glanced once more at her arm, before turning away from Kaz again, reaching for the alcohol to disinfect the wound. She poured some on a piece of linen, and started dabbing at it, twisting her neck to make sure she was reaching every bit of the exposed cut. Kaz, hardly even aware of his own body, moved towards her. She glanced up at him, her beautiful doe eyes searching his face, before she turned to the cut again. Kaz reached out his hand silently, an offer. With her eyes now again on his face, not moving, as if hypnotised, she handed him the cloth. He wasn't able to remove his gloves, not yet, but he hadn't been so close to another human being since Jordie had died.

Inej saw his momentary hesitation, and turned away from him, allowing him to move at his own rate. He reached towards her, dabbing at the wound with the cloth. He heard her breathing hitch slightly, and kept dabbing, not wanting to break the spell by speaking. But then Inej spoke, her words soft and hesitant.

"Is there anyone to protect you?"

You, Inej. You.

But instead he responded, slightly harsh, "Was there no one to protect you?"

Inej turned to look at him, her face soft and vulnerable. She opened her mouth, but he cut her off before she could say a word.

"Look for Mogens' tells. Signs of an old injury that point to a weakness or a repeating action that tells you what he's going to do next."

He saw her face turn contemplative, before she asked hesitantly, "Do I have one?"

He turned his head back to her soft brown skin, before responding "you shift your weight onto your back leg before you lunge. "

She turned fully, facing him again. He stepped back slightly, cursing himself inwardly. She whispered, so softly he could barely hear her. "What's yours?"

Kaz paused, before looking her in the eye. "The limp. The cane. No one's ever smart enough to look for the real one."

Inej moved slightly, just an inch towards her. It was as though his senses were heightened. He smelt her gentle jasmine scent, saw her lips slightly parted, heard her soft breathing, felt her gentle touch as she recovered the cloth he forgot he still held, and all he could think about was her nearness. He hadn't so much as removed a single glove, but he felt as vulnerable as though she had stripped him naked.

Kaz cleared his throat before stepping back, grabbing the fresh roll of bandages off the bench. Inej obediently turned away again, allowing him to take a deep breath. The silence was killing him, and he spoke without thinking.

“You know, I don’t find this part easy. The cutting, the slicing, causing pain is the easy part. Repairing the damage afterwards is far more difficult.”

He wondered if she knew that he wasn’t talking about her wound, then, not really. He was trying to explain that although he was broken, he was trying to repair himself, trying to fix the cracks to become the sort of man she would be proud of, that Jordie would be proud of.

Inej let out a deep breath, sending strands of her dark hair fluttering outwards. Kaz reached out automatically, smoothing her hair down against her head. She stiffened, and so did Kaz, that brief moment of automatic affection an oddity to both. But Kaz then again, feeling almost dizzy with desire, allowed himself to gently stroke her hair. His gloves were still on, a barrier that separated them, but as he felt Inej relax at his touch, he allowed himself to want more, to want Inej. Perhaps one day she might want him too.

Inej cleared her throat, bringing back reality. “Once, when I was much younger, the first time that I tried to walk across the tightrope, I fell. Not when I was on the wire, but at the end, can you imagine? I fell, and hadn’t yet learned how to fall properly. My parents ran to me, but I didn’t feel the pain. I think I was in shock.”

Kaz waited, sure she had a point to this story.She hesitated, before continuing.

“I broke my leg in three different places. My mother thought I might never walk again. My leg healed, but some scars still remained. I couldn’t walk on the tightrope for months, fearing what would happen when I reached the end.”

She turned to face him now, causing him to step back.

“Finally I decided enough was enough. I had been afraid for too long. So everyday for three weeks, instead of walking across the tightrope, I would climb the ladder and just stand at the end. I stood there for an hour that first day, until I had calmed enough to climb down. The second day, I stood there for forty five minutes. Finally, I was only standing there for a few seconds. It took a long time, and the end is still my least favourite part, but I fought against my fears and won.”

She stepped closer to him, and this time he didn’t move back.

“You will fight your fears Kaz Brekker, and then one day you will live without the same fear. It might still hurt occasionally, but you are stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Kaz looked down at her, his face soft, open and vulnerable. Inej looked straight back up at him, her eyes wide and searching, waiting. Kaz bent down slightly towards her, and brushed his lips slightly against her forehead in the gentlest kiss. Her eyes shuttered closed briefly, the softest sound escaping her throat, but she didn’t move. She allowed Kaz to tell her without words what he was capable of, what was too far and yet not enough. She allowed the broken man before her to fix a small, fractured piece of himself, before she stepped back, quivering slightly. She was feeling everything all at once, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. But she stayed steady, and breathed, like she was at the end of the wire once again. Kaz gazed at her, his expression full of wonder, like a young boy, his future full of possibilities.

She turned, so he wouldn’t see the tears that had filled her eyes, and grabbed a hairbrush, unpinning her plait to rebraid it. But he held out his hand, and said, softly, gruffly, as if he, too, was fighting back unshed tears, “Let me.”

Inej handed him the brush, and climbed onto the small bench in front of him, and as Kaz began to gently brush her hair, untangling the knots with such care it was as though he thought she might break at the slightest tug. Inej allowed, then, the tears to fall. She didn’t see that Kaz, too, had tears trickling down his cheeks.

She let out a deep breath, she didn’t realise she had been holding, shuddering slightly, and allowed her eyes to shut for a moment. It had been so long since she had slept, and she had never felt so tired, as if her emotions had drained her more than usual. Her body swayed slightly, but then felt Kaz steady her. He gently laid her back onto the bench, and she felt him move away. She thought he had gone, but then heard his uneven steps return. She felt the softness and warmth of a blanket cover her, and felt him gently lift her head to put a pillow underneath.

“I thought you had left me,” she whispered, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Never,” he vowed. “I will never leave you.”

And then Inej fell asleep, guarded by the healing man above her, his dark eyes keeping watch, protecting her from anything that meant her harm.

#kanej #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #crooked kingdom #bathroom scene #angst #kanejedit #kanej angst #netflix shadow and bone #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone season 2

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hotched · 1 year

Text

Freshman Year - Part 2

Summary: You continued to spend time outside of class with your professor until another student makes a comment that sends you running. Will he let you just walk away?

Masterlist to A Million Little Times series

Word Count: 1363

Warnings: ANGST!!!! No happy ending for a while here folks, so strap in 🫣

A/N: After a long hiatus I finally felt like writing again!! I have a couple of ideas so you may see more from me soon. I know the fandom has kind of died down so please let me know if you want to see more of this series or if I should let this one go

Gif credit goes to @leo-gold-hotchner <3

Everyone called you naive, but you weren’t. You understood the world around you and its complexities, you were just very picky on what to give your attention. You didn’t concentrate on the gossip about the dean having an affair with a professor and the loud fight that ensued in their offices or the running bets on which of the girls in your classes had slept with more of the football players; those things just went in one ear and out the other. You didn’t have the time or the energy to deal with people’s judgment.

Your schedule was jam packed between your intense course load and the extracurricular activities you keep picking up. Last week, you had to pick between your local volunteer club meeting and Professor Hotchner’s after hours lecture. After the first, you started a routine of sorts where you stayed after all of the other students left and spent half the night talking with him about everything and anything under the sun. Sometimes your conversations stayed close to the subject of his latest lecture or the newest lawsuit scandal and sometimes they strayed as far as the latest book you had read.

The first time he asked you about your current book you had tried to give him a general response but he wouldn’t accept your answer.

“Good?” he asked with a raised brow. You turned away from his gaze and bowed your rapidly heating face. There were some things that were just too embarrassing to discuss.

“Yeah… I couldn’t put it down. The entire time I felt enthralled “ you appeased but when he asked what it was about, you knew you were caught, “it was a love story, obviously. The woman was new to town and ended up falling in love with the big, burly farmer who was the only one that never had any expectations of her but actually listened to her thoughts and dreams and when he found out all she wanted as a little girl was a yellow chicken coop, he built her one.”

When he didn't respond right away you gathered the courage to look up at his expression. He was looking at you, as always, but the small smile pulling at the corner of his eyes was somehow different this time.

“What?” you asked, somewhat embarrassed at having to explain your guilty pleasure to the object of your daydreams.

“You’re very empathetic” he responded after a moment, leaning forward so his chin was cradled between his hands so he could study you further, “it’s apparent in every aspect of your life; from the way that you connect so easily to the characters in your stories to the way you choose to appeal to your peers own experiences when trying to argue in class. You look for an emotional connection in every interaction you have.”

You were caught off guard, you had expected just about anything else to come out of his mouth. He had teased you before about your love of romance novels so you figured he would write this one off just as easily but the way that he listened so intently and responded in a way that made you feel seen had your heart fluttering. You felt heard in a way you never had before, furthering the rapidly developing feelings you had for the man in front of you.

With another blush and a soft smile, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and shrugged as his chuckle chimed in beat with your pulse.

She had come to that assumption just from the looks you two exchanged throughout class and that was nothing. She never saw those moments in his empty classroom when he loosened his tie and sat back in his chair, one leg up as he looked at you with tired eyes. She never saw the way your hands clenched, as he gave you little pieces of himself through stories and memories. If she had seen those moments, she never would have made it into something so taboo and deplorable.

You were in the hallway after class when she fell into step beside you. It was odd, you’d never really spoken before and ran in completely different circles so you were confused as to why she was reaching out to you now.

“The way he looks at you is gross. It’s sooo obvious he’s crushing on you. You should report him. Though I bet he gives you all A’s because he wants you to like him back” she commented with an expecting, disgusted look on her face. Your eyebrows were high and scrunched, looking over at her like you had no idea what she was talking about.

After a moment of silence, she was looking at you with a combination of disbelief and ridicule, “Professor Hotchner obviously has the hots for you. Or have you been feeding into it? Don’t tell me you’ve been dumb enough to be blowing him for grades or something?”

“No, no, no” you spluttered, stopping in the middle of the hallway to look at her with wide eyes, “there’s nothing going on between him and I. He’s just being a good professor”.

“A good professor, sure” she snorted, still eying you with pursed lips.

Another classmate bumping into you broke the moment as she sighed and muttered a quick “whatever” as she walked away. You were still staring after her until the bells rang, signaling the next hour.

It was two weeks before he asked you to stay after class. You had been able to feel his intense gaze on you everyday as you scrambled to leave with your peers so he couldn’t single you out. It was childish, avoiding him, but there was a part of you that felt scolded and embarrassed at thinking this relationship you were developing was appropriate. You shouldn’t be staying after class to see him or alone with him in such a casual setting. Your classmate was right, it wasn’t appropriate and it only fed into your daydreams. The only way you could see to stop things before you got hurt was to remove yourself entirely. You wanted to go to the academic dean to see about changing your classes but you didn’t want that classmate or anyone she might have gossiped with to think there was any validity to her concerns - because there wasn’t. He didn’t feel anything for you.

You kept your eyes down as you approached his desk. His gaze was on you, searching your tilted face as the last students slowly trailed out of the room.

Once you were alone, he slowly let out a breath and spoke to you directly for the first time in what felt like forever, “is something wrong?”

“No, no, of course not Professor Hotchner” you responded immediately, shaking your head frantically as you dared to peek up at him from under your lashes.

“Did I do something that made you feel uncomfortable?” he asked after another moment of silence, a frown deeper than you’d ever seen on his face that made you lift your head and lock eyes with him.

You shook your head again with a grimace and pleaded with your eyes for him to drop it, “no, of course not”.

“Alright then,” he responded slowly, eyes searching yours, “you missed the last study session”.

“I had another class to study for” you lied, eyes down as you shifted your weight back and forth.

“Okay” he said, nodding. After another awkward pause, you lifted your eyes back to him and struggled to fight down the nausea you felt at acting like he was just another professor and this was just another class you had to pass to graduate. You stayed for another moment, both locked in a battle of wills. He was pleading for you to explain what went so wrong and you were pleading for him to let it go, let you go. With one last nod, he looked back down at his paperwork and you got your wish.

He left you alone for the rest of the year. Never calling on you, keeping you after class or staring at you as you walk away.

tags:

@rousethemouse @ravensmadreads @multiverse-mxdness @nvttiara @angelmather1 @elhotchner @red-red-rogue <3

#mads writes #a million little times series #mads writes angst #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #Aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #professor!hotchner #professor!au #professor!hotch #Aaron hotchner x you

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finniestoncrane · 1 year

Note

Sooo... I've had this request lingering in the back of my mind for a while now and I finally gathered the courage to write it down, I hope you like it!

Female reader struggling to pay off for her appartment. She manages to peak Oswald's interest and plans on spending the night with him in exchange of some money (if you catch my drift 👀) She is very nervous because it's her first time doing something like that but Oswald, being the perfect man he is, guides her all along. Once they are done she asks if it would be okay for her to stay for a little bit completely free of charge since she doesn't have the courage to ask for aftercare and ends up confessing that she genuenly enjoyed herself?

I understand if this is a sensitive topic of shorts, so please don't feel pressured to write about it if it's not something you are comfortable with!

If you are okay with it, then thank you and take your time! ♥️♥️♥️

Decent Proposal

Farrell!Penguin x Female!Reader, word count: 2k omg omg hey you didn't need courage this is PERFECT! and my sweet this isn't too sensitive for me, we all earn our spending pennies however we want! and i love the idea of oswald trying to offer something in return for being with him, it makes him so vulnerable and sad and sweet so HERE is some old man lovin' for you 💜🐧 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: sex work? technically i guess, exchanging money for sex anyway, stripping, sex, fluff sort of at the end

As you ascended the stairs to Oswald’s office, your heart beat fast in your chest. Nerves, excitement, fear and, being completely honest, arousal, all fluttered around in your mind and your chest as you knocked on the door and entered at his welcome.

He looked up, unsure of who was there, but stood quickly from his desk when he realised it was you, arms out in a welcoming gesture, genuine surprise and pleasure on his face.

Oswald Cobblepot was incredibly charming, and reasonably handsome by your accounts, He was still dangerous though, a little bit terrifying. It was his presence, his reputation that put you off of his advances. And those advances were frequent and plentiful. Flattering as they were though, you found yourself rejecting him each time, playing off the flirtation as friendly jokes. You had no intention of being further entwined with Gotham’s seedy underbelly than you already were.

But as rent payments loomed and you found yourself desperate with nowhere to turn, you realised you might need to take a hit.

Keep reading

“Sweetheart! It’s so good to see you up here, what can Ozzy do for you?”

“You said… you’d make it worth my time, yeah?”

It took a few moments for him to realise what you were saying, by which point a wide smile spread across his face, his body becoming far less tense, less formal, as he approached you.

“Oh, of course, kid. Anything you want.”

“Rent. I need rent.”

“You got it, easy, no problems.”

He walked back to his desk, picking up a pen and his cheque book before taking another look at you and sliding them into his pockets. Your heart dropped as he approached you once again.

“Listen, toots, you look like you could use a drink, maybe a meal. Ya hungry?”

You were, and you nodded before you could really consider the implications behind his question.

“It’s a date then. I’ll be done here in a few minutes.”

He reached into his pockets and produced a wad of cash, licking his thumb first before flicking through the notes and passing you more money than was really necessary for his offer.

“Go downstairs, get a drink and stay pretty. I’ll take you somewhere good before we get down to business.”

You offered him a week smile, leaving the office and sitting yourself at the bar, waiting patiently, sipping nervously, until you felt strong, large hands on your shoulders.

“You good to go?”

Swallowing your drink almost in its entirety, you nodded, taking the arm that Oswald offered as you left his club with him.

He sat beside you in the back of his car, you and him and the driver all silent. Oswald’s hand on your knee, fingers smoothing over you, it made you nervous, but excited. It felt nice to have him there, safe with his large body beside you. But it was foreboding nonetheless, and you couldn’t find the will to lean into him, though you wanted to.

Oswald wasn’t put off by your standoffish behaviour in the slightest. As far as he was aware, this was just how you were. Cold, aloof, distant. And for him, this was a transactional arrangement. You were just doing business, he was buttering you up, schmoozing you before your big meeting.

It was easy to warm up to him though, and you found you were letting your guard down as the evening progressed. It might have been the couple of drinks that eased you up, but it was more likely the way he looked at you, the way he ordered for you and knew what you wanted without asking, how his hand felt against your waist, on your thigh, the way he insisted on feeding you a bite of his dish to taste, asking about your day.

He was the perfect gentleman. Someone you would be more than happy to date if it weren’t for the resounding feeling that you were way out of your league, and in considerable danger just being close to him, despite the security you felt with his arm around you, even as you walked the dark, cold streets to where his driver had parked.

But still, your nerves pressed you.

Silence in the elevator on the way to the penthouse. Silence as you walked behind him through his lounge, to where he told you to take a seat on his sofa.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“No thanks, Mr Cobblepot.”

“Sweetheart, I keep tellin’ ya! Oswald, or better yet, Ozzie!”

You smiled at the tone in his voice, oddly commanding but so gentle, friendly. He made it easy to do what he wanted you to do, almost as though you wanted it yourself. Which you were sure you did.

He sat down next to you, drink in his hand, sipping it as you both sat awkwardly. It was easier to slip into conversation over dinner, but when you were both alone, it was far more difficult to know what to say.

“You know, you don’t gotta do anything else if you don’t wanna, right?”

You nodded, silently, but you felt it would be cruel to leave him now.

“I had a good time at dinner sweetheart, I can cut you a cheque write now, you can see me again for more or not.”

“I want to, Oswald.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, trying to stifle the boyishly excited grin that was trying to form at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“I just… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Would you believe I ain’t neither?”

You smiled, because as much as you knew of his reputation, to be surrounded by arm candy, you could see him being exactly the kind of man to spend most of his time alone, everything for show, for his image.

“I could.”

“I think…”

He sighed, leaning back in the sofa, and you instinctively followed, falling into the crook of his arm which was spread out over the back, your palm resting on his chest, his eyes staring at the physical gesture, smiling sweetly.

“…I think it’s easy to forget I’m just a guy, kid. I’m not evil. I’m bad. There’s a difference. It’s grey, y’know? Would be nice for things to be normal.”

“This is normal?”

“What’s normal anyhow? Could be normal? Could be weird. Whatever it is though, you can leave without finding out. You stay though, I’ll make it real easy for you, promise.”

The sincerity in his words, the way he spoke, and the way his eyes never left yours, his own fingers stroking the back of your hand that sat on his chest. You believed him completely. And you leaned in further, twisting your body until you were almost facing him, kissing him, your hands on either side of his face, palms stroking at the deep scars that lay along his cheeks.

Both of his hands fell to your hips, holding you steady in the awkward position you sat in now, pushing you back gently to look at you.

“You sure, kid?”

“Definitely. You’ll… be nice right?”

He laughed a little, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, soft, sweet kisses trailing up your arm until his cheek was pressed to yours. He whispered in your ear.

“The nicest.”

He stood up, taking your hand and pulling you from the sofa, guiding you back into his bedroom, the extravagant décor only lightly visible in the dim light he put on.

“I don’t want nothin’ fancy or… weird. Just… y’know?”

You nodded quietly, trying to hide your smile. What would Oswald Cobblepot have considered weird? What did he think was fancy? When you looked back at him, he had loosened his pants, letting them fall to the floor, standing in his boxers as he struggled with his tie.

“Let me help.”

You moved to him, taking his tie off and unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his chest and stomach. His body was thick with dark, ever so slightly greying hair that covered almost all of his skin, trailing off towards the bottom of his stomach and continuing over his legs and arms, you realised, as you removed his shirt. Arms and legs darker than his chest, same with the tuft that poked out from the band of his underwear. He stood there, in only his underwear and obnoxious jewellery, blushing.

“You good? I mean… this ok?”

He gestured vaguely to his body and you giggled, blushing at his modesty, the way he no longer seemed as scary as he stood in front of you, vulnerable.

Letting yourself fall into him again, you placed your lips on his, letting his hands fall around you before he stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Could you maybe take your clothes off for me, right there?”

You smiled, licking your lips as you started undressing, easing your pants down first, leaving you in a shirt and your underwear.

“Aw, good girl. Exactly like that, sweetheart.”

He watched you, quietly, face unchanging as you removed the rest of your clothes, slowly, tantalisingly, until you were fully exposed in front of him. He motioned to you with his hand, pulling you closer to him with no words until you were near enough to take hold of, pulled down onto him on the bed.

“You ok if you take control, toots?”

“You’re the one paying, Ozzie.”

You smiled and winked at him, and he tossed his head back, chuckling, wide smile on his face.

“Oh, sweetheart, that is the right way to get this over quickly!”

You climbed on top of him, quickly adjusting yourself, already wet at the thought of having his hands on you, grabbing you, holding you, how his body would feel against yours writhing under you, weak, under your control. As you positioned the head of his short, thick cock against your entrance, you moaned, groaning louder as you took him in completely, your hands firmly on his chest as he grunted, bucking his hips up a little as you rode him. Sharp breaths and moans in chorus as you both reacted to the feeling of one another, your hands on his stomach, his chest, his thighs and his around your cheeks, your hips, lifting you and lowering you at the pace he preferred.

Oswald whispered sweet compliments under his breath, not that you imagined he didn’t want you to hear him, more that he felt he needed to be chaste, not embarrass you with his praise or gentle words, how beautiful you were, what a good girl you were being, how much he had wanted this and for so long that he would have been willing to do anything for you to just pretend to be his for a moment.

So sweet were his words that you found yourself climaxing, your hand stroking your cunt as you rode him hard, his fingers teasing at your nipples, softly grazing over your skin as he explored your body, making the most of his time with you.

He sounded almost poetic as he came, praising you, holding you down, filling you with his cum, keeping you steady on him as you came yourself, and bringing you down on to the bed next to him, where he held you as you panted heavily, soft giggles emanating from your wet, parted lips.

“Sorry, kid.”

He shuffled away, letting go of you.

“Don’t wanna hold you here against your will, huh?”

He was smiling, but there was an emptiness behind it.

“Actually, Oswald… Ozzie… Do you mind if I… stay for a while?”

“S-sure, sure! Uh… you need more money or-”

“No! No, nothing… not like that. I just…”

“You ok, toots?”

“I’m fine, good. Great, even. I…”

As you turned to face him, he was already staring intently at you, a concerned look on his furrowed brow.

“I liked that, Ozzie. A lot.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and I’d like to stay. Just… for a little while?”

He brought his arm back around you, pulling you closer. As you let your head fall onto his body, you sighed, safely, securely in his arms. Oswald leant down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“You can stay as long as you like.”

#penguin x you #finnie writes #oswald cobblepot #the penguin #batman fanfic #the batman 2022 #colin farrell penguin #oswald cobblepot x reader #oswald cobblepot x you

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derry-dyke · 1 year

Text

No matter who said what to Richie, He always had a comeback. Some sort of rebuttal. Always in trouble with his mother for needing to get the last word in. From the outside, it seemed any insult thrown his way simply bounced off of him. Which wasn't always true, But he kept up his unbothered facade pretty well.

The jabs from his friends, however, truly had never truly bugged him before. Not until recently. They were only teasing. He knew that. He'd always known that. It'd never bothered him before. So, why so suddenly did it sting when Bill or Bev told him to shut up? Or when Stan called him annoying? Usually when he could tell he was getting on Eddie's nerves, He delighted in it. As of lately, Eddie snaps and Richie's whole chest suddenly feels cold. His smile dropping from his face. None of them seemed to notice. Maybe they did like it better when he was quiet. Maybe he really was annoying.

So he got quiet. Uncharacteristically distant over the next few days. Occasionally chiming in with a quip, or a joke about Eddie's mom. He'd never pass up a good opportunity to make a joke about Sonia Kaspbrak. And as per usual, Eddie shut the joke down.

"Gross, Richie! Take it back!"

"No can do, Eddie Spaghetti. Mrs. K is the only one for me." He laughs.

"Ew! That's not even funny! Do you ever stop fuckin' talking? So annoying.."

Eddie huffed, rolling his eyes. Like he'd done a thousand times before when Richie got on his nerves.

Usually, Richie would laugh, crack a few more jokes at Eddie's expense. That isn't what happened this time.

When no response came from Richie, Eddie looked up from where he was grumpily reading a comic book. Richie felt his gaze land on him and looked away just in time to hide the way his lip tugged as he tried not to cry. Not in front of them all.

"I'll uh-- See you guys later."

"Richie--"

"Sorry, Eds. Can't keep Mrs. K waiting."

"..Asshole."

Richie climbed up the ladder and left the clubhouse. The rest of the losers club all looked at each other, all in silent agreement that that was... odd.

The next time it happened, They were all gathered in the clubhouse again. It wasn't uncommon for Richie and Eddie to be pressed into the hammock together. Side by side or across from each other. Sometimes Eddie would climb in after Richie and sit opposite him, or between Richie's legs to read whatever comic he was reading. Other times, Richie would squeeze in beside Eddie, or flop in on top of him. And Eddie would either accept his presence, absent-mindedly adjusting to make room and hold his comic book where Richie could see it. Or sometimes it went more like,

"Oof! Get off of me, assface."

"You know you can't get enough of me, Eds."

"In your dreams."

"Only the fun ones." Richie winks.

"That's disgusting. You're so fuckin' annoying."

Eddie was waiting for hands to come up and pinch his cheeks or ruffle his hair. What he wasn't expecting was for Richie to really sit up off of him. He looked up from his comic book.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting off of you. Sorry."

Eddie blinked, confused. Watching Richie sit back to sit opposite him in the hammock and bury his face in a comic book. He looked around to find the others were watching quietly too. All of them equally confused. A quiet sniffle made their confused expressions shift to ones of concern.

"Richie?"

Don't cry. Don't cry. Do not cry.

"I'm reading, Eddie. This one just came out--"

"You read it yesterday, Dickbrain. Look at me."

"No."

"Are you.. crying?"

"..No."

The hesitation and the waver in Richie's voice reassured no one. Eddie snatched the comic book from him so that he couldn't hide behind it anymore.

"Dude!"

Richie hastily pushed his glasses out of his way to rub at his eyes. Eddie's heart sunk in his chest at the sight.

"You /are/ crying."

"Do you want a fucking sticker or something?"

"No, I want you to talk to us. We care about you."

"Hah. Right. Fuck off."

Eddie frowned. Did Richie.. not believe that they cared? He watched Richie lean forward and put his face in his hands. Their friends had moved closer now. Ben knelt beside the hammock, As if trying to meet Richie's eyes, But his face was covered.

"Richie, What's wrong? What's been bothering you?"

"Nothin', Haystack. I'm totally fine."

Stan rolled his eyes. Leaning against the post that Eddie's side of the hammock was tied to. Bev stood across from him, gently threading her fingers through Richie's hair. Not mentioning the way she felt his body jolt with each silent sob he was choking back. From the way tears began to gather in Eddie's concerned eyes, She could tell he felt it too.

"No, you're not. We can tell something is up. You've been acting weird. You've been.. quiet." Stan pointed out. A broken, humorless laugh came from the boy curled up in the hammock.

"Isn't that what you guys wanted?"

"..What?" Bev's hand paused.

"All you guys do is tell me how fucking annoying I am, and-- not funny and how I talk too much and-- anytime I say anything at all someone tells me to shut up, I just-- I thought--"

Richie's broken voice rambled until he couldn't get any more words out. A broken sob coming from behind his hands. They all looked guilty now.

"Rich-Richie, We're only j-juh-joking. You know that, Don't you?" Bill's voice comes from somewhere behind Richie.

"...Doesn't feel like you guys are joking. Feels like you don't want me around anymore." Richie's voice cracks.

"That's not true. Nobody thinks you're annoying. None of us want you to stop talking to us, or making jokes. Of course we want you here."

Mike chimes in from where he stood beside Stan. Ben's hand rubs Richie's back while Bev's fingers begin to move through his hair again.

"And we /do/ care about you." Stan corrects the way Richie had doubted Eddie's words before.

"We love you. We're sorry." Bev agrees.

It's quiet after that except for the sound of Richie crying into his hands. Everyone looks at each other. Mixtures of guilt and sadness on their faces. Of all of them, Richie was always the least likely to cry in front of them all like this. He was usually the one making everyone else laugh when they were in tears. For a moment, nobody knows what to do.

Eddie is the first to move. Sitting forward in the hammock and prying Richie's hands away from his face.

"Hey--"

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm so sorry, Richie. I didn't know."

Richie gives in immediately, Allowing himself to be tugged forward into an embrace, crying into Eddie's shoulder. He feels someone take his hand, opening his teary eyes to see Stan standing there, looking guilty.

He closes his eyes again and relishes in the feeling of Eddie holding him, Ben's hand rubbing circles on his back and Bev's fingers in his hair. Squeezing Stan's hand, sniffling when he squeezes back.

"You're the funniest guy I know, Rich. Even the stupid nicknames. And the jokes about my mom."

"Hah.. Remember you said that, Eds."

"I will. But you better soak it in now because you'll never get me to admit it again."

That gets a soft laugh out of Richie, which makes the rest of them smile.

"I almost never mean it when I tell you to shut up." Stan reassures him, thumb running across Richie's knuckles.

"You're gonna regret those words, Uris." Richie tries to joke, sniffling.

"No, I won't. I'm serious." Stan shuts him down, squeezing his hand again. If Stan regrets anything, It's his contribution to Richie feeling this way.

"And we d-duh-don't really th-think you're annoying."

"Alright, Big Bill, You don't have to lie to me. I know I'm annoying. It's okay. Seriously."

"I'm n-not lying."

"We really don't mean it. Who else makes us laugh as hard as you do?" Mike asks. Richie shrugs.

"You make all of us laugh all the time, Rich. It's not fair that we make you feel like this when all you ever wanna do is make us all smile. We had no idea."

Bev murmurs. Richie doesn't have a rebuttal for that. He can feel his composure starting to slip again, sniffling as more tears gather in his eyes. Hiding his face in Eddie's shoulder. Eddie who has yet to let go of him and doesn't seem to want to anytime soon. Richie holds on tighter.

"I get it, guys, I'm fine--"

"We're not saying it just to make you feel better. We're serious. Why didn't you say something?" Ben asks from where he's still rubbing Richie's back. Richie shrugs.

"Didn't think it mattered." His shaky voice answers. They can all tell he's on the verge of tears again.

"Of course it matters." Eddie's voice answers, equally shaky.

"None of us want you to feel that way about yourself. We wouldn't have said those things if we knew you thought we were serious. I didn't mean to hurt you." His voice cracks. Mike rubs his back. As much as Eddie always hated Richie's jokes about his mom, He'd be distraught if there came a day he wouldn't get to hear them anymore.

"Oh, Spaghetti.." Richie frowns. Heart sinking in his chest as he holds Eddie a little closer.

"Don't cry over lil' old me. I'm tough."

"Shut-- Stop it. That isn't the point. Stop deflecting, Jackass. I'm serious. We love you, okay?"

"I--" Richie isn't sure how to respond as he's called out. He stops trying to laugh this off.

"Yeah, Eds. Okay. I love you guys too. I'm sorry."

"We're sorry. Tell me the next time I say something that hurts you. Please."

"I.. Yeah, I will. I promise. I'll say something next time."

They all stayed like that for a few more minutes. Letting Richie know how loved he is, without allowing him to turn the moment into a joke.

Over the next few weeks he noticed the others laughing and smiling at his jokes more often. He noticed that both Stan and Eddie had stopped doing that thing where they feign annoyance and try not to laugh. Not hiding their amusement, or the joy Richie brought them anymore. Nobody called him annoying. And if someone told him to shut up, it was always while they were laughing.

From now on, Richie wouldn't have to wonder whether or not his presence was wanted amongst the Losers Club. They'd never let him wonder again.

#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #angst #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #reddie #writing #it art #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #stanley uris #amanda's writing

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