#the easiest job i’d ever had. and my friend was like ‘i want to come work there too!’ so we somehow arranged this and they agreed to pay her

[fingertipsmp3]

Last night I had a dream that me and my best friend were living together and it was super not going well lol

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — James has a huge crush on his labmate, the only question is how long will it take him to ask her out? (Answer: it's longer than you think)

WARNINGS — cancer mentions, patient death from cancer, drugs, alcohol (don't be mistaken this fic is tooth-rotting fluff)

NOTE — Okay this fic has come up from my compulsory need to elaborate on anything Canadian so if you ever wanted to see James at McGill, this fic is most definitely for you! Also I guess it's indirectly mentioned that reader was raised in Quebec, but obviously doesn't have to be "Quebecois" for this to work

Pronounciation — Jian = Chyehn

James chewed on the inside of his cheek as he walked up to the Stewart Biological Sciences Building on McGill campus. For some reason, it was so much more intimidating now that he was actually a student. During the tour he had his mother’s reassuring hand on his back, his father’s words of comfort that he would most definitely be accepted when he applied. 

Now that he had made it, he had to prove he belonged, but it could have been worse. His friends at Harvard and the University of Toronto had told him so. He was getting the best of both worlds, a prestigious school and, hopefully, not as much pressure as the rest of them. 

Without loitering any longer, he made his way inside and looked around to find the right lecture hall. It couldn’t possibly be that hard, could it?

After his first semester James had realized he’d made a few mistakes. One was living in a French speaking part of town without knowing a lick of the language, but that one was the easiest to deal with. The others were more in the realm of the amount of sleep he was getting and underestimating how much content the professors could shove down their throats in 14 weeks. 

He was more than happy to return to New Jersey for the holiday break to rest and recuperate before going back to the winter wonderland hell that was Montreal, but this time he was confident he would be more prepared. 

And for the most part, he was. He got enough sleep, partied responsibly (except Fridays, he partied hard then), always submitted his work on time and maintained his good GPA, making up for his poor fall semester. What he didn’t expect, however, was a distraction. 

When you walked into the room James watched you curiously, he thought maybe he’d seen you somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite place it. Besides, you were much more interesting than watching his sample boil for another five minutes. 

You came and took a seat next to him, taking out your safety goggles and lab notebook from your bag before shoving it under the table. 

“You’re sample’s boiling over,” you said, but James didn’t register you were talking to him at first, still looking at you in a slightly dazed manner before you physically pointed to the beaker, making his eyes go wide as he frantically turned down the heat and removed it. 

“It’s a wonder you passed the lab safely quiz,” you teased and James blushed. 

“Good thing I don’t want to be a chemist.” 

“Oh, and what do you want to be then?” you asked, preparing your own sample for boiling. 

“A doctor,” he shared with a little more confidence. 

“Any specialty in mind or just a doctor,” you said, doing air quotes over the word. 

“I’ve been shadowing some of the researchers in the Life Sciences Research Complex and I think oncology might be a good fit for me.” 

“Yeah, as long as you don’t have to boil cancer cells you should be fine,” you assured him. 

“What about you?” he rolled on the balls of his feet as he continued his experiment. “Or are you all talk?” 

“Pfft, you think I’d be here if I was all talk?” you asked. “No, I want to be a medical researcher.” 

“Maybe you should do some shadowing in the LSRC then.” 

“No thanks, I think I’ll stick to my job there.” 

“Your job?” James looked at your wish surprise. “Aren’t you like 18?” 

“Almost,” you smiled. 

“How did you manage to get a job there? They barely let undergraduates in the labs, let alone be responsible for anything.” 

“It’s nothing fancy,” you assured him. “I just do cataloguing for now, but it's a good experience.” 

“Still,” he raised his brows, “you must be like a prodigy or something.” 

“Again, no,” you shook your head. “Just someone who goes after what she wants.” 

There was a comfortable pause where you both took down your distillation set ups and began working on the filtration portion of the experiment. 

“So what’s your name, anyways?” you asked, looking over at him. “Hey, look, clamp it this way,” you demonstrated and he followed your lead, seeing how much more stable the glassware was afterwards. 

“Thanks,” he smiled. “I’m James.” 

You told him your name and continued your work again in silence.

Chemistry labs quickly became the favourite part of James’ week. 

Ever since that lab, James began to see you in all his classes. On more than a few occasions, he’d had to steal notes from his friends on account of forgetting to pay attention. It became an easy thing to tease him about, so his friends began calling him heart-eyes, because who was he kidding, he had a crush. 

“Get your head out of your ass, heart-eyes, I am not giving you my notes again,” his friend, Carlo, shoved his arm and whispered harshly as he could see him getting distracted. 

“Sorry,” James shook his head and began scribbling down what he had missed, his eyes darting back and forth from the board and back to you. 

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Pierre asked him after class. “Don’t you talk all the time in the lab?” 

“More like I stare at her and she says stuff to make it not awkward,” he cringed at his own actions. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every time I’m with her I can’t string together a sentence, and– Jesus Christ you should have seen my face last week! Full on red, like I can’t even be subtle about it!” 

“Yikes,” Jian grimaced. 

“It’s bad, I know,” James assured. 

“And this is why we call you heart-eyes,” Carlo patted James on the back. 

“Yeah, say it a little louder, maybe she’ll hear you,” James said sarcastically. 

“Who’ll hear you?” the group of boys heard a voice behind them and all their eyes went wide as they spun around and saw you. 

“No one!” Jian was quick to answer in the least nonchalant way possible, making the rest of the group, especially James, stare daggers at him. 

“It’s not no one,” Carlo attempted to save face. “Just… this girl back in uh New Jersey that James’ got the hots for,” he gained confidence with every word of the sentence before adorning a smug smile on his face and patting James yet again on the back. 

“You’re afraid a girl in New Jersey will hear you?” you looked curiously at James but he just stared blankly at you. “So you call him heart-eyes?” you instead turned your attention to his friends and they nodded. “That’s cute, maybe I’ll call you that too.” 

“Sure,” was all a red faced James could get out before you excused yourself to head over to work. 

Pierre was trying very hard to keep a straight face while you walked away and James slapped both Carlo and Jian upside the head. 

“What the hell was that! Could you not have been more obvious, Jian? And Carlo, a girl back in New Jersey? Now she thinks I’m pining for someone else!” 

“On the plus side, maybe she’ll think all your blushing around her is a circulation issue,” Pierre shrugged. 

“You guys are the worst,” James shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, continuing to walk along the path to one of the libraries. 

“No, we just saved your ass,” Carlo caught up with him. “However terribly, but if we didn’t say anything you would have stared at her with your mouth open like a trout.” 

“Carlo does have a point,” Jian agreed, “At least we bought you a little time to get your act together.” 

James sighed, “You guys have too much faith in me.”

“You said that when I started to teach you French and you’ve come a long way with that,” Pierre said. 

“Yeah, sure I went from saying nothing to being able to say Je m'appelle James et je ne parle pas français.” 

“And what a handy sentence that is when you don’t speak French!” Pierre grinned and James couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. 

“Okay, I’ll try and get my act together and ask her out…and learn more French.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Carlo patted his back. “Now let’s go get a drink and relax.” 

“Maybe after we study for our physics midterm?” James nudged his friend and Jian nodded his head in agreement. 

“Fine, I guess if we have to,” Carlo sighed. 

“Not everyone is naturally good at kinematics, Carlo. Take pity on us mere mortals who have to study,” Pierre responded, eliciting a chuckle from his buddies. 

James was quiet as he thought to himself. If he could get a B on this physics test, maybe there was hope for him getting his act together after all.

—

Summer break rolled around faster than James had expected. While Jian went back to Richmond, Pierre over to Quebec City, and Carlo to Chicago, James was left alone in Montreal, working to help pay his tuition for the next year. Being an international student was no joke. 

He would have gone back to New Jersey, but the positions he applied to in Montreal paid more so it wasn’t a hard decision to make. 

His parents would come visit him for some time in July, but for the most part he was alone. 

On late nights, he’d make his way to the McDonald’s in the neighbourhood, not knowing enough French to go anywhere else nearby. At least there, most of them spoke enough English to take his order, and if not it was really easy to point to the menu. 

“It’s already done?” he asked. 

“Give us some credit, hein. We knew you were coming, we had it ready.” 

James chuckled and handed him the money for the order, exchanging it for the bag which he took to a table and sat down. 

As he was pulling out his fries from his bag he heard the chime of the door and looked up curiously to see who was coming at this time of night. 

He stopped what he was doing when he recognized you, watching as you dug through your purse and spoke to the cashier in French. You both laughed about something James couldn’t quite catch and a little while later, after you had paid they handed you a bag and an ice cream cone when James heard you say something about ‘deux cuillères’ taking the utensils they gave you and turing straight towards James’ table, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. 

“I thought you lived in New Jersey,” you said. 

James was still stunned that you had noticed him and couldn’t find the words to speak. 

“Hey, heart-eyes?” you waved your hand in front of his face. “You okay?” 

“Y-Yeah,” he nodded, distracting himself by pulling out his burger from his bag. 

“So why aren’t you in Jersey?” you asked. 

“Work. I got a job here, it paid better.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully while eating some of your fries. “And all your friends?” 

“Back with their families, unfortunately for me,” he nodded. “W-What about you?” 

“Oh, I live here,” you shrugged. “In this neighbourhood actually.” 

“You live here?” he asked. 

“That’s what I said,” you nodded. 

“And so that’s how you know French?” 

“Every kid in Quebec learns French, it’s kind of a non-negotiable,” you shared. “I gather that’s why you’re eating here.” 

“Yeah, Pierre didn’t manage to teach me enough before he left,” he sighed and started to eat his meal. 

“I could teach you if you want. I’m taking a little break this summer so I have some spare time,” you offered. 

“Oh, I don’t want to-,” 

“James, you’re gonna have a shitty summer if you don’t say yes.”

He couldn’t argue with that, it would be nice to communicate more with the people who lived around him. 

“Okay, sure, but I’m warning you, I’m a terrible student.” 

“I used to tutor one of my siblings, trust me it can’t be worse than that,” you laughed. 

You chatted a little more, finishing your meals but not before you handed James a spoon. 

“So this is cuillère then?” he asked. “I-I overheard you talking to Jean.” 

“Yeah, your pronunciation isn’t bad either,” you nodded. “Here.” 

You pushed the ice cream cone between you and began to eat it with the spoon. James had a bit of a sweet tooth and wouldn’t be one to refuse dessert so he began to share the ice cream cone with you. 

“So, are you missing your girl in New Jersey?” you asked and James cursed internally, trying to come up with a lie to tell you. 

“Um, no not really,” he shook his head. “I don’t think we would have worked out anyways.” 

“Oh, so are your friends still calling you heart-eyes?” 

He nodded his head, thinking it was better not to say anything in case he gave himself away. 

“It’s good that you recognized you wouldn’t work out before you asked her out,” you said, “Couple guys wanted to go on dates with me this year, but just didn’t seem like the right fit. Plus, I don’t really think I’m looking for anything like that right now.”

James nodded his head again, silently eating the ice cream. 

“Ever been in love, James?” you asked. 

“That’s a really loaded question to ask someone you cornered in a McDonald’s at 11 P.M.” 

You ignored his response and continued, 

“I haven’t, it seems like such a big thing, how would you even know if it was love?” 

James looked up at the ceiling, silently asking God to not let him say something stupid, 

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first.” 

“So you have been in love,” you confirmed and he shrugged his shoulders. 

“I…I don’t know. Maybe I have.” 

“That’s not a very straightforward answer.” 

“Then maybe I haven’t. I feel like if it was love, you’d figure it out, eventually.” 

You pursed your lips and nodded your head. 

“I hope I get to fall in love,” you smiled softly to yourself. “Seems nice.” 

“Yeah,” James agreed. “It does.” 

—

A few years later… 

“So how did it go?” Jian asked, as they sat around James’ small living room. 

“It…could have been better,” James sucked in some air through his teeth, recalling a recent memory from earlier that afternoon. 

“What the fuck James! You scared the shit out of me! I could have broken the hemocytometer, do you know how much that shit costs?!” 

“Sorry!” James quickly apologized and dropped his books down on the nearest surface to help you clean up, making you look up again at him with disdain. 

“In the BSC? Really? Now we have to resterilize and all the specimens I have in there are as good as compromised.” 

“Shit,” James muttered under his breath, he was usually so much better in the lab, but the second he was with you he became a bumbling mess. “I-I’ll take care of the BSC, I’m so sorry.” 

You sighed and removed your gloves, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“It’s not just boiling water we’re dealing with anymore, James,” you said a little more calmly than before. “You’ve gotta be more careful, okay? I’m not losing my job over this.” 

James nodded his head and went to grab the things to sterilize the biological safety cabinet and grab the new specimen from the fridge. So much for trying to get a job at LSRC to impress you. 

“I was not built to be a researcher,” James shook his head. 

“I mean, it’s not that big of a screw up, you fixed it eventually, didn’t you?” Pierre asked.

“Yeah, but not until after a thorough amount of embarrassment.” 

“I thought girls found clumsy guys endearing,” Carlo commented. 

“Not when the girl is determined to become the leading medical researcher on the continent,” James sighed. “Maybe taking this job was a bad idea. From what I can see she hasn’t even changed her opinion on dating, she hasn’t been with anyone these past three years.” 

“Do you hear that?” Carlo removed his feet from the coffee table and placed them on the ground. “You’ve been in love with her for three years and haven’t done anything about it.” 

“Who said I was in love with her? And sure, maybe I haven’t made a move, but I learnt French!” James tried to defend himself, pointing to Pierre. 

“That’s not as good of a comeback as you think it is,” Pierre shook his head. 

“I know,” James hung his head low and sat on the couch between Pierre and Jian. “We’re gonna graduate in a year and she’s not gonna know I’m in love with her.” 

“So you are in love with her?” Jian looked over at his friend sympathetically. 

James leaned back and used the heels of his palms to cover his eyes. 

“He’s gonna have a meltdown, don’t ask him that,” Pierre shook his head. 

“God, I do love her!” he exclaimed like he was just finding it out for the first time himself. 

“What did I say,” Pierre sighed. 

“Can I make it stop?” James looked over at his friends who all shrugged. “I am so screwed.” 

“This time, I think we agree with you,” Carlo took a sip of his drink. “Good luck, man.” 

James squeezed his eyes shut, he would definitely need it. 

—

The year passed to graduation and James was still sitting on his feelings. It was much too late now to say anything. You’d already been accepted to a graduate program through your work with the LSRC and James had passed his MCAT with flying colours and was on his way to medical school at Columbia. 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was going to miss Montreal, the city had grown on him during his time there and a part of him wished he could stay. 

His friends were also ready for the next stages in their studies, all going to different places across the continent to get their other degrees, with, of course, the promise to stay in touch. 

James didn’t know what the next little bit of his life had in store for him, but he hoped regardless of where he ended up, maybe he’d be able to make up for his missed opportunities. 

The years of medical school, once started, passed faster than James expected them to, and by the end of it, much to his own surprise, he’d also gotten married. 

You were almost all but forgotten in the back of his mind, but time continued to play its games. 

Medical school turned into a specialization in oncology, and a divorce. Then residency and a marriage. Then a second divorce. Then another marriage and more recently a position at a hospital in his hometown, on the board and a well respected oncologist and a few new friends…and a third divorce. 

“House, I’m not asking you to let them all sleep in your apartment, it’s just a dinner for one night, we’ll be out and about for the rest of the time that they’re here,” James sighed. 

“Can’t you just cancel?” House asked. “Divorce seems like a pretty good reason to get out of a reunion.” 

“See, the thing is, I’d rather not be miserable and see my friends instead, and they bought their tickets months ago. Please, House, I’ll do the dishes for a week.” 

“A month,” House said. 

“Two weeks,” James negotiated and House nodded, so they shook on it. 

“Good, now that I’ve done you a favour, you can do me one,” House smiled, but the kind of smile that was conniving, like he had something up his sleeve all along. 

“I paid you in chores for my favour, who says I owe you anything?” 

“Unless you want me to call your friends and cancel for you, you’ll do it,” House continued to walk the hospital’s hallways hobbling with his cane. 

“What is it?” James sighed, catching up with him. 

“We have a patient and he doesn’t speak very good English, but he does speak French. You went to McGill didn’t you? Must have picked up some of the love language.” 

“Unfortunately for me in this case, I did,” he nodded. 

“Perfect, come with me now,” House motioned with his head to the patient’s room and James trailed behind him. 

When he entered the room, House motioned for him to begin speaking. James hadn’t spoken a lot of French since his undergrad so he was definitely rusty, but he supposed it was better than nothing and began to explain that he would be helping with the translation.

“Erm, Bonjour, je suis Dr. Wilson, je vais aider Dr. House avec la traduction.” 

The man looked at James strangely before saying. 

“You’re an anglophone, but you speak French like you’re Quebecois.” 

“I um did my undergraduate in Montreal, I learnt how to speak there,” James responded back in French. 

“Hmm.” 

James could tell this wasn’t going to be fun. Some of the French held quite a bit of hate towards Quebec, who knew why, but his accent definitely wasn’t going to help him in this situation. 

House got James to ask some routine medical history questions and a few things about his symptoms all the while James had to filter out all the insults that were coming his way with regards to his “poor use of language” and “unintelligible accent”. 

When he could finally leave the room, James let out a string of French curses under his breath, still thinking in the other language. 

“House, why can’t you just get a proper translator?” he asked. “I’m terrible at this.” 

“Cuddy said something about making a big purchase recently and being currently unable to do so, especially since you put that you speak French in your resume. Bet you’re regretting that one now.” 

“Yeah,” James nodded his head. “Big time.” 

They began to walk towards the elevator to go to the cafeteria for lunch, when James decided to inquire more about Cuddy’s big purchase. 

“Oh, she said something about money this, medical research that,” House shook his head, “You know I stopped listening the second she wouldn’t give me what I wanted.” 

“She hired a medical researcher,” James said aloud, chewing on the words, “I wonder who she-,” 

His train of thought was cut off when he saw, near the elevator, a face he hadn’t seen since graduation day at McGill. 

Quickly, unable to think of anything else to do, he ran into the administrative area and hid crouched down behind a photocopier. 

House watched his friend curiously before walking over towards him and leaning against the copier asked him if he’d gone insane. 

“No, I just, um, remembered I needed to copy some patient files,” he lied. 

“You don’t have any with you,” House said. 

“I faxed them from my office,” he lied again. 

“I think I need to go get Foreman, clearly you’re having a neurological breakdown,” House said. 

“Can you just stop making it obvious I’m here?!” James exclaimed in a whisper. 

Unfortunately for him, as you were walking past, his harsh whisper made his location obvious, causing you to look down and see his familiar face. 

“Oh my God, heart-eyes, is that you?” you asked with a smile and James pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded. “What are you doing down there?” 

James became speechless and suddenly he was an eighteen-year-old back in his chemistry lab. 

“He’s checking to see if we need more toner,” House said, lying for his friend, but James knew that was all he would get out of him. “Well, that’s my cue to leave, you guys have fun.” 

You reached down and offered James a hand, helping him back into a standing position. 

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” you commented. “Like since we were-,” 

“22,” James filled in and you nodded. 

“Yeah,” you bit your lip before asking him how he had been. 

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I-I’m assuming you’re the medical researcher Cuddy hired?” 

“That would be correct,” you smiled. 

“Why did you choose to work here? I thought you were some big hotshot in Canada?” 

“I am a big hotshot, which is why I wanted to come to a teaching hospital. I thought maybe it would give more opportunities to teach other people what I know. It’s a win-win. I get to do what I want to and the hospital gets grant money from my research,” you explained. “It looks like you got where you wanted to be too, Mr. Oncologist.” 

“Actually it’s Dr. Oncologist,” he joked and you laughed, making his cheeks go red after hearing the sound.

“I missed having you around, James. We should catch up sometime,” you suggested. 

“Yeah sure,” he nodded. “I-I’d love that.” 

You excused yourself, needing to go introduce yourself to a class of medical students, waving goodbye to James, leaving him stuck in his tracks for a few moments before he could gather his senses again and head downstairs for lunch. 

—

“We could have rescheduled if this was too much, man,” Carlo watched James as he brought a large roast to the table for them to eat. 

“See? What did I tell you,” House rolled his eyes and James gave him a disapproving stare. 

“No, I wanted you guys to come, we’ve been planning this for months. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of it,” he assured his friends. “Plus, we know how hard it is to nail down Pierre, I swear you are always travelling. Every time we talk you’re in a different country.” 

“That’s the life of a parasitologist,” he shrugged and helped James by beginning to cut the roast. 

“And Jian, how’s the wife and kids?” 

“They’re good,” Jian smiled. “Mei started first grade in September. Becky and I are both up for promotions at the hospital, so I can’t really complain. Although I think Carlo can.” 

“Seriously it’s not that big of a deal,” Carlo groaned, “Sure yeah, pharmaceuticals are more flashy than biophysics, but that doesn’t mean that my research wasn’t better.” 

“Well if it was better why did William get the award?” James asked and Carlo just flipped him the bird. 

“Didn’t we go to school with him?” Pierre asked. 

“We did?” James raised a brow. 

“Yeah, for a year, from Toronto, huge stoner. Hated being there and did literally no work, but still managed to get honours,” Jian explained. 

“Sounds like my kinda guy,” House commented and James rolled his eyes. 

Just as they continued to dish out dinner, House’s pager went off and he sighed, excusing himself from the table while practically threatening James to leave him some food. 

When House left, James’ friends saw their opening and began their personal line of questioning. 

“Hey, James, are you really okay?” Jian asked. 

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” James asked in return. 

“You’re getting a divorce,” Pierre said. “Seems like a pretty good reason to not be okay.” 

James shook his head, 

“Yeah sure, it’s a shitty situation,” he admitted. “Did I imagine myself at this point in my life with three failed marriages? No, definitely not. Can I do anything to change it? Also no, and right now I really wouldn’t want to change it.” 

“Can we ask what happened?” Carlo queried. 

“She cheated on me, then left me,” James said simply. 

“Forgive me,” Pierre said. “But you seemed a lot more upset when we talked over the phone last week. What changed?” 

James looked down at his plate and cut into his roast, thinking about what Pierre had said. It was true, even earlier today he was sulking about, that was until he ran into you. 

“I swear,” James started, “if you guys make a big deal about this I will murder you all,” he used his knife to point at all of them and they nodded, swearing their silence. “I’ve got heart-eyes again.” 

“You met someone new?” Jian asked and Carlo shook his head. 

“No, he re-met someone old. Tell me, did your hospital recently hire a medical researcher?” 

James nodded his head and the table was about to erupt into a loud chorus of comments when James gave them a look and they all restrained themselves. 

“James, I’m being dead serious when I say this, but you should have married her,” Pierre insisted. “I never saw you look at anyone else the way you looked at her.” 

“Probably explains the three divorces then, doesn’t it? I was still in love with her the whole time,” James sighed. “It’s going to come up eventually, seems like a pretty big indicator that I’m not good at relationships.” 

“Who knows, maybe she won’t care,” Jian offered. 

“What was it like when you saw her again?” Carlo asked, looking for any opportunity to tease his friend. 

“How do you think it was? I could barely talk, I was a nervous wreck, and blushing like crazy,” he shook his head at the thought of it. “I could literally feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I feel like a middle school girl every time I’m near her.”

“Who knows, maybe she still thinks you have circulation issues,” Jian shrugged and the table laughed. 

“What I would give to stay here and watch this play out,” Carlo sighed and leaned back in his seat. 

“Knowing James, you’d have to be here for ten years before he made a move on her,” Pierre raised a brow and James threw a piece of potato at him. 

“If you ever do get the guts to ask her out, call us. We’ve made bets on this,” Carlo added. 

“Real comforting, guys,” James ate a bite of the roast. “I thought this was supposed to be my pity party.” 

“Not anymore,” Jian shook his head. “You’ve got heart-eyes.” 

This time around, James thought maybe he didn’t mind the nickname as much as he used to. 

—

“I would think they’d get you your own office at this point,” James commented as he entered his office, seeing you sitting at his desk, eating a pre-packed lunch. 

“Beats me,” you shrugged and continued to eat. 

“So you’ve decided that invading my office is your next best bet?” 

“Oh hush,” you waved him off with your fork. 

“Well, excuse me for wanting to come to a safe place after being verbally assaulted by House’s patient,” he sat on the opposite side of the desk and leaned back in the chair. 

“Verbally assaulted?” you asked. “By a patient who isn’t even your own?” 

“He doesn’t like the way I speak French,” James rolled his eyes. “I’m translating while they’re treating him since the department used all its money hiring you.” 

“What can I say, hotshots cost a lot of money.” 

“You know, you could do the translation, probably much better than I can,” he noted. 

“I could, but you probably need the practice more than I do, chèri,” you scrunched your nose in a cute mocking way and James could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks yet again. “You still keeping up with that posse of yours?” you asked, changing the subject. 

“Yeah, they all flew in to visit a few days ago, we’re gonna go out tonight,” he said. “Do you…maybe want to join us?” he suggested. 

“I don’t have plans, as long as they’re okay with it I’d love to come,” you smiled. 

“Oh trust me, they will definitely be okay with it.” 

—

Later that night, James was drinking deeply from his glass while he watched his friends stare blankly ahead at you. If he looked anything like they did all those times his words were caught in his throat, then he hoped to spontaneously combust right then and there. 

“Heart-eyes, I thought you said they were okay with me coming?” you leaned over and whispered to him. 

James put down his glass and nodded his head. 

“They are okay with it, right?” 

Snapping out of their daze, the three men nodded their heads and finally began professing assurances that everything was fine. 

“It’s just… you said James invited you?” Jian asked with furrowed bows. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “He mentioned you guys were in town and getting together tonight and asked me if I wanted to join.” 

James bit down on his tongue trying not to say anything, but also gave his friends a look to shut up before they gave anything away. He knew what was running through their minds, they were wondering how the hell he’d gotten the guts to ask you to come, but there was one fundamental difference between tonight and any other time he could have possibly asked you. This wasn’t a date, therefore, there was no pressure. 

“Maybe you could tell them what you’ve been up to since they last saw you?” James suggested. 

“Oh, um, well, I got my master’s degree and doctorate at McGill, both for research in cancer biology-,” 

“Cancer biology?” Pierre interrupted. “I don’t remember you mentioning you were interested in that.” 

“I-I wasn’t initially,” you admitted. “Just after spending more time in the LSRC and a few other irrelevant things I decided it was the best fit for me to focus on.” 

“You and heart-eyes make a pretty good pair then,” Carlo raised his eyebrows suggestively and took a sip of his drink. 

“I guess we do,” you chuckled. “As long as he leaves the research to me. We all know what he’s like in the lab.” 

“I resent that,” James protested only before saying, “but I do deserve it.” 

“It’s a miracle he hasn’t had a medical malpractice suit,” Pierre added. 

You asked the boys about where their various careers had taken them and how they were each doing. The conversation stayed pretty normal until the topic changed to relationships, starting with Jian’s wife and family back in Vancouver and Pierre’s husband who was currently in Australia doing research on some massive insect. 

“What about you Carlo?” you asked. “Anyone special in your life?” 

“Nah,” he waved his hand. 

“What about the mom of the kid who pet sits for you?” Jian asked. 

“That kid charges me per animal, per size. If I were to date his mom he’d probably charge me for dating her too, and I don’t think I can afford his price,” he shook his head and the table laughed. 

“James, you’ve been quiet,” you said. “Nothing to share?” 

James nervously took a sip of his drink and looked over at his friends for help. 

“James hasn’t had the best luck in love,” Pierre settled on. 

“Oh, haven’t found anybody, that’s not a big deal,” you assured him. “I haven’t either.” 

“Well,” Carlo said in a high-pitched voice. “It’s not exactly that he hasn’t found anybody.” 

“So there’s someone-?” 

“I’m divorced,” James blurted. “Three times. Or soon to be three anyway.” 

“Oh,” you paused and tried to think of the right thing to say, but for the moment settled on nothing while Pierre changed the subject. 

After the visit was over, James offered to walk you to your car and you accepted. The walk started off in silence, but you decided to break it. 

“You know, I hope you find the right person eventually,” you said. “It’s unfortunate things didn’t work out three times.” 

“Yeah,” James nodded in agreement. “I-um, do you ever think about that conversation we had, in the McDonald’s by my apartment?” 

“Sometimes I do,” you admitted. 

“Looking back on that, I wonder if we ever really loved each other. If we did this probably wouldn’t have happened. We would have fixed things, worked on ourselves instead of just…giving up.” 

“So I guess you still haven’t fallen in love yet?” you asked, but he stayed silent. “Whoever it is, I’m sure things will find a way to work out for you.”

“The moment may have passed on that,” he said with his hands shoved in his pockets and looking down at the ground. 

“You never know, James. Sometimes life has a funny way of surprising you.” 

—

James watched as his colleagues and a few of the students from the university left the lecture hall while he continued to sit in his seat, watching you walk up towards him. 

“Don’t you have patients or something?��� you asked. “You’re at all of my lectures.” 

“Doesn’t it seem appropriate for an oncologist to attend a cancer biology lecture?” he asked as you sat down next to him. 

“I suppose so,” you sighed. “Doesn’t explain why you weren’t taking notes though.” 

James looked down at his empty hands and cursed a little internally. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I don’t mind the staring, it reminds me of school.” 

“You noticed?” he asked. 

“You weren’t very subtle,” you chuckled. 

“Yeah, not one of my strong suits,” he blushed, embarrassed. 

“Do you wanna go grab lunch before your break is over?” you asked and James nodded, standing up and offering you a hand to get out of your seat. 

You went to the cafeteria, running into his friend House who managed to get his food paid for by James, yet again, before leaving to go back up to his office and work on another differential diagnosis with his employees. 

“Did all the guys get back home safe after their trip?” you asked, digging into your food. 

“Carlo and Jian are back home, Pierre went to go be with Ollie in Australia.”

“It must be hard not living near them.” 

James sighed and nodded his head. “It’s a balance. When they’re being annoying, it’s great that they don’t live here and when they’re not, it sucks.” 

“Spoken like a true friend,” you chuckled. 

“What about you? Do you still keep in touch with people from school? During any of your degrees?” 

“Not really,” you shook your head. “After my undergrad I became so laser focused on my school I didn’t pay attention to relationships that much outside of my family. Starting to regret it a bit now.” 

“Kind of hard to have a good conversation with cancer cells,” James said sarcastically and you shook your head. “Do you like it in New Jersey so far?” 

“Not as much as back home,” you admitted, “but it is nice to have a friend here.”

“Yeah, Jersey is…an acquired taste,” he settled on, making you laugh, but your laughter was cut off by the sound of his pager, and he looked down to see what the message was before quickly standing up. “Sorry, I have to-,” 

“Don’t worry,” you assured him. “I’ll pack up your food and bring it to your office.” 

“Thanks,” he nodded and you waved goodbye as he ran off out of the cafeteria and to the oncology floor to go help one of his patients. 

—

James didn’t find himself walking around the campus often, but when he did it was usually because he had to clear his head. With everything that was going on in his life, in addition to the circumstances of this case, he was taking it harder than normal. 

He had left his coat in his office as the hot New Jersey sun was already beating down, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes following his feet as he took his steps forward. 

He didn’t notice you sitting on a bench as he was passing by. Curious as to his state, you stood up and went to meet up with him. 

“Hey James, are you okay?” 

Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts almost instantly. He stopped to look up at you, seeing the concern reflecting in your eyes. 

He took his hands out of his pockets and motioned for you to walk with him. 

“I lost a patient today,” he explained. “He was 11.” 

“Oh, James, I’m so sorry,” you said softly. 

“In med school you learn pretty quickly if you don’t find a way to deal with what you face every day the result is never good,” he said and you noticed him chewing on the inside of his cheek, “but it was just too sunny outside. How could it be sunny on a day like this?” 

You didn’t say anything initially, only intertwining your hand with his and giving it a light squeeze which he returned. 

“You know, I think it’s probably okay, every once in a while, to let yourself mourn your patients. Just like everyone else. You have a uniquely difficult job, James, and no one would hold it against you if you need a minute to adjust.” 

James stopped walking and you followed his lead, only to have him let go of your hand and pull you into a tight hug. You easily wrapped your arms around his neck while his arms were around your waist. 

“You’re a good doctor, James,” you mumbled. “I know, even if you don’t quite believe it right now, you did everything you could to help that young boy and make him more comfortable.” 

You could feel him nod his head, clearly not trusting himself to say anything at the moment. 

Neither of you wanted to let go, but you knew that you both had work to get back to. James had other patients he was responsible for and you had some work to do in one of the hospital labs. 

So silently, hand in hand, you accompanied each other back to the hospital, grateful for each other’s company. 

—

“I swear, if I stay there any longer I’m going to go mad,” James whispered to you under his breath as you walked along the halls of the hospital with him to help him run some tests for a few patients. 

“What was it this time?” you asked, huddling in closer, waiting for him to spill the beans on why living with his best friend was becoming unbearable. 

“He keeps pranking me,” he began to explain and you could see how frustrated he was just by his hand movements. “Last night he thought of the genius idea to put my hand in warm water while I was sleeping and-,” James stopped himself, realizing he’d divulged too much, just as your eyes went wide. 

“Oh my God you didn’t wet the bed did you?” you asked in a chuckle and James quickly covered your mouth saying, 

“Shh! The whole hospital doesn’t need to hear you!” 

You couldn’t hold in your laugh, muffled by James’ hand over your mouth and his cheeks were a bright cherry red. 

Eventually you pulled his hand away and said, 

“You definitely need to get out of there. That’s criminal.” 

“Exactly what I’m saying,” James agreed. 

“Hey, why don’t you come over to my place tonight?” you suggested. “We can watch a movie or something together.” 

“That sounds like exactly what I need right now,” he nodded his head. “What time?” 

“Come over at eight, it’ll give me some time to get snacks and get ready.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he held out his hand and you took it shaking it firmly. 

Later that evening while James was getting ready, House watched him curiously. 

“I still don’t believe that you blowdry your hair,” he said loudly over the sound of the appliance. 

“Believe it or not, I do,” James responded. 

“It just seems so pointless, your hair is messy anyways,” he crossed his arms and James gave him a look. 

“My hair looks fine, yours on the other hand could use a trim and about a billion other things,” James retorted.

“So, is this a date?” House asked, changing the topic. 

“No, it’s not a date,” James shook his head. “It’s an opportunity for me to get away from your insanity.” 

“Are you sure it’s not a date?” he asked. 

“What makes you think it's a date?” he finally gave in and turned around to face his friend, turning off the blow dryer. 

“Well if you asked her if you could come over, probably not a date, but if she offered…” he shrugged his shoulders. 

James shook his head, he didn’t want to allow himself to believe it was true, because if it was, he’d probably overthink things and make a fool of himself. 

“It’s not a date,” he reiterated and House stopped pressing, seeing as his friend would not be reasoned with. 

James finished fixing his hair and grabbed his keys and a coat before stepping out of the door. 

It didn’t take him long to drive to your house and when he knocked at the door he heard shuffling inside before the lock clicked and you opened it. 

“Hey! You got the dress code memo,” you joked, pointing to his McGill sweater and then back at yours. 

“I thought you might like a blast from the past,” he smiled and you invited him inside. 

As he entered he noticed the array of pillows on the couch, blankets draped over arm chairs, and books piled on every surface possible. To top it off, the house was currently only lit by lamps allowing a warm orange hue to fall over the space. It made James’ shoulders relax and he could even feel his nervous heart rate slow. 

“Do you like it?” you asked. “I am by no means an interior decorator, but I tried to make it feel cozy so it’s nice to come back to after long days at work.” 

“I do like it,” James nodded. “A lot. It feels like a home.” 

“Perfect, that’s exactly what I was going for,” you smiled. “You’re the first guest I’ve had here, you know?” 

“Really? No fancy dinner parties with the hospital board?” 

“No, not yet,” you chuckled. “Unfortunately, this guy in the oncology department keeps taking up all my time.”

You grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the couch. 

“But don’t worry, I don’t mind.” 

After he took off his coat, you both sat down next to each other, James extending his hand along the back of the couch and you naturally sat right up next to him, leaning forward to grab the remote and turn on the movie. 

“What did you pick?” James asked. 

“Just some random horror movie,” you said. “I heard it’s really cheesy.” 

“We’ll see about that,” James raised his brows and grabbed the popcorn from the table, putting it in between you both. 

You pressed play once you were both settled and tossed the remote to the side of the couch, curling your legs up and waiting in anticipation for the movie to begin.

It didn’t take long for the horror plot to begin, jumping right into the satanic murders and supernatural deaths. Just as you had predicted, it was cheesy, but that didn’t stop you from being startled whenever something popped up unexpectedly on the screen. 

Both of you were lulled into a false sense of security during what seemed like a quiet part of the movie, then, all of a sudden, the killer jumped into the frame with a loud change in the soundtrack, causing you to shriek and move towards James, also feeling him jump slightly from being startled. 

You both looked up at each other and laughed at the ridiculousness of your collective fright. 

“You’re supposed to be the calm one,” you elbowed him. 

“I know it just-Jesus!” James found himself inadvertently closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around you as if it would give him some protection from what was on the screen. 

You laughed again and leaned closer into his side, patting his leg to assure him it was safe to open his eyes again. 

“You must enjoy torturing me, that’s the only explanation for this,” James looked over at you and you shook your head. 

“Come on, heart-eyes, you think that lowly of me?” 

James couldn’t stop the smile that creeped past his lips, “No, of course not.” 

“Good, that means I still have the upper hand,” you moved your head to look back at the TV, but not before James tickled you in retaliation for your words. 

It took a moment, but you eventually surrendered and moved your focus back to the movie, still feeling a little warm from your laughter. 

You grabbed some of the other candies and snacks from the table, holding a gummy bear up for James to try and he did without so much as a second thought. 

“Still have a sweet tooth I see,” you offered him a different candy which he ate again and nodded. 

“You don’t want to know how many cavities I’ve had.” 

“Here,” you handed him a wrapped treat. “This one’s special from home.” 

“Maple candies,” he smiled. “They don’t make ‘em like they do in Montreal.” 

“They were your favourite, right?” you asked. 

James looked over at you again curiously, “You remembered that?” 

“Of course I did,” you shrugged. “Oh wait, look,” you pointed to the TV before grimacing and covering your eyes, but still peeking through your fingers. “Ew!” 

James just smiled at you, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to kiss you, the thought bringing a warm sensation to his stomach. 

He settled instead on doing what he’d been doing forever: staring at you with heart-eyes. 

—

James tried to fight a yawn as he grabbed one of the many books on the shelves in his office, taking it to his couch and sitting down next to you. 

“You don’t have to do this, James,” you told him. “You probably have to be back tomorrow morning, you should go home and rest.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” he insisted. “You look in here for that article I was telling you about and I’ll start proofreading.” 

There were many papers and files strewn around the couch, you couldn’t remember when you first came in, but James never seemed to mind when you worked in his office instead of your own. 

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I feel like I brought a tornado in here.” 

James looked up from your paper and nodded his head. 

“Now hush and let me read.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckled, opening the medical journal he had handed you, flipping through the contents until you found the article title he had mentioned. 

James had a pen in his hand, scribbling down annotations on the side, correcting a few typos and grammatical errors. 

For the most part, he was able to follow along, but at one point, the words became so incoherent he tapped you to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. 

“What does this say here?” he asked. “I-I don’t know if my eyes just stopped working, but what does stirring in sugar and eggs have to do with this trial treatment?” 

“Oh my God,” you grabbed the paper and looked at it closer. “I must have accidentally copied some of my mom’s cookie recipe on here before changing documents. What in the world is going on with me?” 

Maybe it was the exhaustion settling in or some other things James couldn’t quite pinpoint, but he felt himself letting out a chuckle that grew a little longer, and longer until it was a full blown laugh. 

It was an honest mistake, and arguably not that funny, but you’d be hard pressed to convince him of that in that moment, and instead, seeing the silliness of the situation, you joined in.

Eventually, when the laughter died down, you and James both leaning far back against the couch, he turned to you and apologized. 

“I’m sorry, I should probably read this when I have a bit more sanity.” 

“Don’t be,” you patted his leg. “I can always use a good laugh.” 

With your heads still turned to face each other, you suggested to pause the work and resume it another time, to which James agreed. 

You both continued to sit there in silence, looking over at each other and James caught a glimmer of something in your eyes and had to blink a few times to make sure it was still there. It was a soft look, a little dazed, like you were happily daydreaming about something far off. It took him a moment to realize it, since he had been the one giving that look, he’d never really had a chance to see it for himself. 

You had heart-eyes. 

And more importantly, you had them while you were looking at James. 

With a sudden boost of courage, fuelled by lowered inhibitions, he started by asking, 

“Have I ever told you why my friends call me heart-eyes?” 

You tilted your head a little, following his lead and sitting up straight. 

“Wasn’t it because of that girl you had a crush on that was from here?” 

James opened his mouth and then shut it, shaking his head. 

“There was never a girl from Jersey,” he admitted. 

“Why would they say it was a girl from Jersey if there was…” as you said the sentence you slowed down, the realization dawning on you. 

“All the staring makes a bit more sense now?” he asked. 

You blinked a few times, “I just thought you were really awkward,” you said. 

“I was, but if the staring didn’t give it away the blushing really should have done it,” he chuckled. 

“I thought you had a circulation issue!” you exclaimed and James burst out laughing, of course you did. “God, James, why didn’t you say anything?” 

James shook his head, “I could barely string out a coherent sentence when I was around you. Makes it a little hard to say anything.” 

“Makes me wish I had said something,” you said, feeling your own cheeks heat up at the admission. 

“Y-You would’ve said something?” 

Now it was James’ turn to be surprised. 

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first. That’s what you said to me, but that eventually, if it was love, I’d know it.” 

You reached out and held James’ hands in your own. 

“I should have said something. I could have said something. We could have had so much more-,” 

“James,” you whispered, interrupting him and he stopped. “Shut up and kiss me.” 

James wasn’t going to waste another second, removing his hands from your to instead gently hold your face, bringing you closer to him so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since he was 18 years old. 

The dim light of his desk lamp, the papers crumpled beneath and around you, the way you moved closer and slid into his lap, his hands now on your hips and your fingers snaking through his hair, it all melted into one and if you let yourselves imagine, just a bit, the lamp became a light in the library; the papers became unfinished homework assignments and lab write-ups, and you hadn’t missed a second of the time you could have spent together. 

Your kisses soon turned slow and repetitive and neither of you wanted to pull away, living in the moment like it was your last. 

“When…did you realize…you loved me?” you asked between kisses, moving away from his mouth, instead letting your lips find their way across his jaw and up to his temple. 

“Our last year of school,” he paused your kisses so he could kiss you properly again. “Carlo said something and-,” he shook his head and sighed. “I realized I was going to leave without you ever knowing how I felt and even though eventually I thought maybe I’d stopped loving you and started to love other people…I just kept trying to fill that space that only you fit in.” 

“First year of my master’s for me,” you rested your forehead against his. “Suddenly you weren’t there anymore and I really wished that wasn’t the case.” 

He tilted his head up to meet you in another kiss that was far too easy to melt into. Neither of you had any complaints and you knew you’d never get tired looking into his heart-eyes.

@cuntyvicodin

[daddyy333]

“Te iubesc” | Sebastian Stan x y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 0.7k

warnings: ?

summary: You do something completely unexpected at you and Sebastian’s wedding, and it makes him fall in love you even more

You were so perfect. It’s all he couldn’t think about. You had done so well, managing the stress of today and you were now standing in front of him looking like you just flew down here from heaven. You were standing in front of him, ready and willing to be with him for the rest of your lives, promising to love him through everything.

When it came time to say your vows, you seemed nervous. He caressed your hand as he watched you with the softest eyes, surely with heart shaped pupils too. You looked behind you at his mother and his brows furrowed a little.

She nodded and you took a deep breath. Never in a million years would he have thought you were about to speak your vows in Romanian. That you took the time to sit down with his mom and learn his first language so he understood just how much you wanted him for the rest of your life.

“Sebastian, you have no idea how hard it is to find the words to express just how much I love you. But I hope I did a good job, because all I want is for you to understand just how important you are to me. I love you with my whole heart, with a passion that can't be expressed in words, only in kisses, glances, and years of adventure by your side. I promise to be your honest, faithful, and loving wife for the rest of my days. I pledge to honor you, love you, and cherish you as my husband today and every day. Today I say, "I do" but to me that means, "I will." I will take your hand and stand by your side in the good and the bad. You are my every dream come true, and I can't wait for the reality we get to build together. You love me and complete me in ways I never knew possible. From this day forward, I promise to listen to you and learn from you, to support you and accept your support. I will celebrate your successes and mourn your losses as though they were my own. I will love you, my husband, and indulge in your love for me for all of the years of our lives. I choose you and promise to choose you as my husband every day we wake. I will love you in word and deed. I will laugh with you, cry with you, scream with you, grow with you, and craft with you. To be your partner in all of life's adventures is all I could hope for in the world. Loving what I know of you and trusting what I don't yet know, I give you my hand. I give you my love. I give you myself, the good, the bad, and the yet to come.”

Tears flooded down his face, and he just wanted to hold you in his arms for the rest of his life. “God, babe, why’d you do that” he said, laughing as he wiped away his tears. You giggled and he said “all I wanna do is kiss you now”

“Just a few more minutes” you said and he sniffled. You wiped away the never ending tears coming down his face and he sighed shakily. As he spoke his vows, you felt like you were falling in love all over again. You were so sure that this was right for you. You felt no anxiety, no fear, you knew Sebastian was the perfect man to spend the rest of your days with.

Saying “I do” that day was the easiest thing you’d ever done in your life.

“You may kiss the bride” the officiant said and Seb cupped your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours. “Te iubesc, baby” he said and you sniffled. You took a deep breath and said “Te iubesc”

He kissed you softly, moving his arms down and hugging your waist tight against him, smiling through the kiss. Once you broke the kiss for air, his cheeks were so blushed you were almost concerned and he was grinning so so so hard.

“Can’t believe you made me cry like a baby in front of all our friends. Now everyone knows it wasn’t a trap and I actually love you” he joked and you giggled. You pecked his lips again and said “please, you couldn’t pretend you hated me even if you tried”

“I hate it when you’re right,” he said and sighed. You kissed his cheek and said “prepare to be miserable forever then, cause you're stuck with me and I’m always right” “there’s worse ways to live” he said and scooped you up, running down the aisle with you in his arms.

I just put the parts spoken in Romanian in bold because I don’t want to risk getting the wrong translation and it also makes it easier for you guys to read

Taglist: @kandis-mom @buggy14 @high-functioning-lokipath

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes

CW!Bucky Barnes

Chris Evans

Geralt of Rivia

Henry Cavill

Chris Sturniolo

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[clumsiestgiantess]

Chapter four of the Other-world Universe; Alexis tries (and fails) at being helpful.

all chapters linked here

[The power of a pile of free cash] The cycle of realities repeated itself yet again, and soon I was bored enough with my own reality to swap worlds.  I was curious to see how the young woman was coming along with the money I'd given her.  Before I got home however, one of my friends stopped me in the hall.  “Are you ok?” they asked me.  Apparently, I seemed rather distracted lately.  “There’s just a lot of things going on at home,” I replied.  It was technically true.  “Don’t worry about it.”  Giving me another concerned look, they told me they would be there if I needed to talk, and I nodded, trying my hardest to focus on them when my mind had already begun to wander through thoughts of the other-world.  Eventually, they sighed and moved on to a different topic as we walked down the hall together.  They'd clearly given up on getting any more information out of me, having already tried a few less conspicuous ways to get something of an answer from me, but obviously I couldn’t tell them the truth.  

When I got home, I immediately dropped my backpack by the basement couch and prepared for another trip to the other-world.  I can always do homework when I get back.  I have all the time I need to do it since this little pit stop will only take a few seconds in my world.  Traversing the lay of the land so many times, I’d pretty much mapped out the easiest and least destructive way to the city.  There was only one slightly sketchy detour I took through a skate park to get to the field behind the young woman's building.  

However, when I returned to her apartment, everything was a mess.  The money had downright vanished; nothing had changed.  Her apartment had apparently been paid off, but the rest of the money was gone.  Or so I thought.  When the young woman returned, she arrived with a fancy new car and outrageously expensive-looking outfit.  I’d just brought her car back to her and now she’d gotten rid of it.  This was definitely NOT what I gave her the money for.  The heck is wrong with you? I mentally asked as she disappeared into her apartment.  You’re supposed to use my money wisely, not blow it all on things you didn’t need!  

Things only got worse from there.  Through various ways of sneaking around, I started following her to find out what she’d done with the rest of my money.  I gave her so much, how could she have possibly spent it all already?  Never underestimate the power of a pile of free cash.  The young woman had visited both the mall and the downtown shopping area by the end of the day.  I was also fairly sure she quit her job, relying entirely on the money I’d so foolishly given her.  I hadn’t seen her go to work at all since I started watching her.  

Every day I watched her, every day she drove herself further into the ground.  I'd even witnessed her steal her ex’s car and have it crushed at a junkyard.  The incident was so baffling that I almost controlled her simply to stop her from doing it.  I suppose I could’ve deemed it an emergency so I could control her without breaking my own rules, but it didn’t matter.  Eventually the money ran out, and she ended up in more debt than she started with.

I wanted to scream, and I did, but in my own world where no one could hear me.  Alright, I calmed myself, this time I’m going to have to change things.  There was still a decent amount of money left in the bank from the space set, and I’d brainstormed a few ideas on how to keep her from wasting it.  Determined to set things straight, I grabbed more tiny bills from the set.  I made sure to only take a reasonable amount of cash, not whatever I could grab like last time.  

The space set was boxed up on the shelf for now, but if Liam ever took it down to play with again, he’d probably wonder where all the money went.  Maybe he’ll just think he lost the pieces.  There were a few other set parts missing, which was why it was left on the shelf to begin with.

My new and improved plan was this: Instead of leaving the young woman on her own with the pile of cash, I’d put the money out and wait right there until she came and found it.  The other steps are a work in progress, but I’ll probably just make them up as I go.  Basically, I’d be monitoring her a lot more closely than just handing thousands of dollars to her and walking away.  I returned to the other-world, money in hand, and made my way back to the apartment, carefully placing the bills into a heap on the floor just like last time.  Then, I waited for the young woman to come home.  

When she finally came back from who knows where, I slid over to the balcony doors to watch.  She’d barely stepped into the apartment before realizing something was off.  Turning the tight corner by the doorway, she walked into the living room and stopped short, staring at the new bills that seemingly appeared from nowhere.  The young woman stepped cautiously over to the pile in a daze.  Slowly, she turned to the balcony.  Oh no, I left the door open!  I quickly backed away from the doorway as she stepped out onto the small metal outreach.  Looking around baffled for a moment, she spoke to the empty alleyway below her.  “I don’t know who keeps doing this or why, but..” she glanced backwards into her apartment, “This better not be a test.. or a bribe.. but thanks.”  Finally, she turned and closed the balcony door behind her, giving me a chance to let out the breath of air I'd been holding.  Soon, she began collecting the money stacked up on the floor.  Don’t thank me yet, I thought smugly.

The young woman stayed in that night, and I waited outside for the morning to come so I could set my plan into motion.  A few ideas had popped up while I sat around waiting for her, and I was eager to try them.  I yawned, suddenly very tired.  I’ve been awake in both worlds for a long time now.  It won't hurt if I rest a while, right?  Just because I’m on a stakeout doesn't mean I can't close my eyes for a bit.  I sidled backwards to the far end of the small field, giving myself another whole foot of room.  Despite the tight space, I was asleep in no time.

I couldn’t really tell how long I’d been out, but I was suddenly woken by something slamming into my side.  A truck had crashed into my leg; its whole front bumper was completely caved in.  My leg must’ve fallen across the road in my sleep.  A man stumbled out of the driver’s seat, and I sleepily backed off, retreating further into the old baseball field.  I waited as a tow truck came and wheeled away the crushed vehicle, while whoever was driving the damaged truck kept complaining that there was nothing he could've possibly hit; the road was completely empty.  Well, at least he knows not to drive back here anymore, I thought sleepily.  I'll be sitting here more often now; maybe it's for the best he learns not to be here.  

The sky was just beginning to fade into the dazzling oranges of early morning, and with so many cars and buildings reflecting its light, it was almost impossible for me to go back to sleep.  So much for getting a good night's rest.  I sat in the field, bored, waiting for something to happen so I could put my plan into action.  Finally, the apartment lights flickered on, and I sidled over to the window excitedly.  Nothing had actually happened yet, she only got up to make a cup of coffee, and afterwards the young woman picked up a few outfits and laid them out, trying to decide between them.  I huffed disappointedly, finding this part of the morning a bit boring, but when she pulled her pajama top over her head, I recoiled away so harshly I nearly fell over backwards.  Though these people and their city were surely fake, they certainly looked real.  I stepped over the building to watch by the street instead.  

As I sat off to the side of the road, I realized I didn't even know the young woman's name.  Controlling a passerby to get close to the building, I managed to read the nameplate next to her room number, which I’d caught in the reflection of a hall mirror.  The name read ‘Erica Anderson’.  Satisfied, I returned to my spot and released the stranger.  Erica drove off a bit later, and I followed her car from a distance, simply because I couldn't get much closer to the city.  Eventually, she parked in a garage connected to one of the fanciest shopping malls I'd seen in the other-world.  Then again, I hadn’t really seen much beyond the city and the mountain range.  What is out there in the rest of this strange world?  I assumed it ended at the end of the table holding it all up in my world, but the highways branching out of the city had to go somewhere.  I'd have to find that out later.  Right then, I had to stop this poor woman from wasting any more of my money.

No way are you spending all of it on clothes and mall stuff, I thought resentfully.  Carefully placing a hand over her, I had her drive to a large city-owned building instead.  A sign outside the door read: Addicted Spenders Therapy Sessions room 105.  It was really a genius plan.  I'd been watching the billboard ads while I was bored, and an advertisement for this lecture popped up, ironically right after an ad for a new line of expensive luxury items like handbags and the like.  I had a feeling the ad placement was somewhat intentional, though.  

I made Erica go to the room and sit in for a class, letting her go right before she entered the building.  Quickly remembering I would no longer be intangible without a person to control, I latched on to someone in an office building nearby.  It was much taller than me, which was a bit unsettling.  Most of the buildings around me were taller than me, and most of the ground beneath me was filled with moving people and cars.  It was all a bit overwhelming and strangely claustrophobic.  I sat literally in the building, having no room elsewhere, letting whoever I had in my control just continue with their work.  Sitting through the steel frame of the building was probably one of the strangest feelings I’d ever had.  The entire building almost seemed like a hologram — a projection of light that wasn’t actually tangible, though really it was me that was the intangible one.

About an hour later, Erica came rushing out of the meeting, looking confusedly up and down the street as if she were unsure how or why she was there.  Apparently my control only lasts so long without me there to keep it running.  By the looks of Erica's confusion, it seemed as though she didn’t even know where she was.  I latched back onto her, releasing the office worker, and internally reminded her that she wanted to go to each session of these classes.  Her confusion slowly seemed to disappear with my assurance.  

There, I thought, that wasn't so hard, was it?  Once everything was set up, I left her to her own devices for a while.  I hadn’t given her nearly as much money as the first time, so later in the week I set her up with a decent job as well.  Since I had no clue what she did prior to when I'd first given her the money, I decided to put her into a simple customer services-type job.  Surely she could manage it.  All she had to do was talk on a phone, how hard could that be?  Alright, this is going well, I don’t think she’ll do anything stupid again, right?

Wrong.  Very wrong.  I left for a few months to deal with things in my own world, however; so I didn’t even know it for a while.  My team won the state volleyball tournament, that was fun.  I failed a math test, that was less fun.  During winter break, my family drove out to an island in our camper van.  For a few blissful days, my life seemed perfect — collecting shells on the beach and riding rollercoasters on the pier by day, lighting bonfires and stargazing by night.  I felt like I was set for life.  Our family loves the beach; I’m surprised we don’t live closer to one.  I made a mental note to find a nice oceanfront whenever I returned to the other-world.  

All good things come to an end though, I suppose.  After a week on the island, it was time to make the return trip home.  It was always a melancholy experience, leaving the beach behind.  The time we spent there was always fun, but the island was so small, there were only so many things to do before you’d done them all.  Back at home, there was now only one little weekend left before break was over.  However, I’d saved the last two days for finishing school assignments, so my break was basically over right then and there.  If only there was a way to stop tomorrow from coming, I thought wryly.  It really was rather nice to have another world all to myself.  

My good mood was instantly shattered when I returned, though.  I found Erica in jail for drunken driving.  She managed to pay off her bail, but the fees left most of her bills unpaid, again.  What do I have to do to get you to be responsible for once?  It’s only been what, a month, I think, since I left?  Erica had also been sentenced to community service, which I overheard her complain about when she arrived home.  

Sitting in the field out behind her building, I thought, again, about how to deal with this.  I was far too invested to give up now.  Maybe if I move her further from the city, she won’t keep getting into these situations in the first place.  I knew Erica wouldn’t like it if I made her randomly move, but it was for her own good, and the job I’d given her would likely allow it.  Even if her boss wouldn’t let her, I could always control them and suggest that they change their mind.  

I decided to search for a house when it got dark, that way less people would be out, and less people would be in my way.  Once the sun set, I began my trip out to the suburbs beyond the city, closer to where I first zapped into the world.  None of the homes really stood out to me, though.  Try as I might, I couldn’t find a good enough house in suburbia; all of them looked almost the same.  

While I was searching through the many cookie cutter homes, I noticed a modern mansion sitting seemingly untouched on top of a cliff overlooking the city.  Whoever owned the mansion was currently selling it for a ridiculous amount of money, but it wasn't that hard to scrounge up enough to easily outbid any other offers with the help of a rich-looking puppet.  It was perfect.  Erica wouldn’t be too compelled to move back to the city if she was living there, and the cliffside allowed me easier access to the house.  The next day, while Erica was out doing her forced community service, I quite literally took things into my own hands.

I got a few movers and a truck to come over and get her things, and watched as they drove everything over to the new place.  It took a while for them to get all the way out to the cliffside, and even longer for them to move everything inside the mansion.  I couldn't even leave and come back because I had to keep all of the movers at least somewhat under my control.  Eventually, the job was done and I released them back to their normal lives.  Realizing how late it was, I rushed back into the city as fast as I could.  I didn’t dare run, knowing I would cause both tremors and destruction if I did.  

Watching the movers had caused me to lose track of time.  When I finally made it back, I saw with a pang of guilt that Erica's car was already out front.  I raced to the back deck and watched as she looked around her empty apartment, devastated.  I opened the balcony to reach in and control her, but before I could do anything, Erica marched out onto her deck and I quickly backed away.   "What the hell?!  I thought you were supposed to be giving me money and helping me out and shit!" she yelled angrily at the field I sat in.  "Is this some kind of punishment for my arrest, because if it is..  Where the hell is my stuff, huh?"  

For a long moment, I sat frozen.  Can she see me?  Erica grumbled and stormed back inside, pacing the length of her now empty apartment.  I realized that she'd addressed 'whoever was doing this' before, when I’d mistakenly given her a hint to where I was.  She didn't actually know that I was there.  All she knew was that the door to the deck was open at the same time money kept appearing.  Still, it was unnerving, like she was actually yelling at me.  

Carefully, I reached through the open patio door again and took control.  I had her go back outside and drive to her new house, walking silently next to her car the whole way.  Since I had her under my control, I no longer had to avoid everything that I could potentially trample.  It was nice being able to walk around without fear of demolishing anything.

When Erica finally pulled up to the small mansion, I released her.  She slowly wandered inside, where she stood speechless, looking over the boxes of her things that had miraculously been moved there.  She found the keys to the house on one of the boxes by the door.  Dazed, Erica stepped out onto the lawn overlooking the cliff, then circled back to her car.  "I don't know if I'm going crazy, or if there's someone or something behind everything that's been happening to me," she mused.  "Maybe this is a secret social experiment or something.  But god, you-  you didn't have to go and get me this."  Shaking her head with a chuckle, Erica looked back over her shoulder at the mansion.  "I really am just going crazy, aren't I?"  She shrugged, “Well, as long as good things keep coming my way, I honestly don’t care how any of this happens.”  Erica stepped back into the new house, and I left her to get settled in.  Maybe, finally, she would change.

I was hesitant to leave Erica alone again, knowing what happened the last few times, so I stayed and watched her for a bit every day.  However, after a few weeks or so, I was getting bored of watching similar things happening daily.  She hadn’t done anything too out of the ordinary while I was there, so eventually I left — confident that this time Erica could handle herself without me.  Every once and a while I’d come back and check on her, but she’d been doing pretty well for a while now, and I was beginning to move on to other things.  About five months had passed since I’d first met Erica, and more than once I thought about showing her the truth.  Where the money came from, who was actually helping her out, but that was an increasingly bad idea the longer I thought through it.  Showing Erica everything would only leave her with way too many questions than she needed answered.

[notasapleasure]

I'm asking aLL THE FIC WRITER MEMES!!! in reverse order from current WIP back through your published works

Omg thank you, you mad man! But you know now I’m wondering just how much homework you set your actual students… ^^;

So I’ve chosen to interpret this in a very literal way. I started with the bottom ask and applied it to the current WIP, and worked backwards through my fics as I went up the list. I didn’t answer any of the ones that needed a trope or ship picking, but am still open to being asked if anyone wants!

★ what was the scene you most wanted to write in [fic]? what was the hardest scene to write?

(Whumptober 2022 day 31: Comfort | Bedside Vigil | “You can rest now.”) The whole thing is really just one scene, but it really did epitomise the eternal problem with writing Francis/Jerott, which is how do you get them to stop being smart with each other and just. Open up a little? Of course this opening up is also the scene I want most to write at any given time. Though any and all Jerott whump makes my horrible little gremlin brain happy, so to be able to include various flashbacks to times Jerott was having an even worse day was fun. And Francis feeling guilty about the kiss in Anemone was also fun >:} But I think finishing this one was hard. I wanted to push for more intimacy between them but that isn’t where either of them is at this point, but Francis’ care for Jerott even in his disappointment – AND VICE VERSA – is honestly one of my favourite things about Checkmate, so it was trying to do that justice while keeping them in-character.

✿ did anything major change when you started writing [fic] to when you finished?

(Only Ever Just One Night). I initially thought I’d write follow-up chapters. I had a mean little desire to whump Brasso and have Cassian get him out of a Situation. But it would have meant Plot, which I never fully managed to figure out, and then I got distracted writing lead-up smut to the friends-with-benefits situation instead. But on the whole what’s posted wrote itself really easily – it’s often the way with my first fic in a new fandom, all the initial impressions and headcanons come gushing out before I can start making problems for myself by overthinking.

☉ what do you do when you get stuck writing?

Ahhh, sulk? Nah, it doesn’t happen too often, and usually I manage to knuckle on through. A tried and tested method is a two hour bath lol. Lock the door, turn my music on, nothing to do except figure out that tricky bit of bridging. Usually results in fewer words than it feels like, but gets me through sections I’m struggling with. Also just leaving gaps and continuing to write the bit I want to write, knowing I can go back and join things together later. Making a playlist to remind myself of vibes helps, too.

✄ what’s your editing process?

I re-read quite a lot and tinker with things as I go. I quite like editing (good job as I do it all day), and I like seeing things come together, but I am awful at kill your darlings. I’m writing for fun so I just leave it all in – ‘sure this might not be relevant relevant but it adds fLAvourrrr!!’ I will stick a bunch of line-breaks in or use highlighting/bold to remind myself that a section doesn’t read well or needs adding to, though, and try to go back and figure it out before I let myself continue much further.

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

Some of the Whumptober days were like pulling teeth and I think it shows. I think the sweet spot is when I have a pretty clear idea of vibes and outcome and it’s not had the chance to outgrow containment – some scenes (e.g. the chapters at the summer house in Inchoate) lie in wait in my head and when I get to that part of the fic they practically write themselves (sometimes it’s nice stuff, sometimes it’s DDDNE, but it’s basically kind of scene or action with a concrete beginning and ending). But often fitting these scenes in – what comes just before and after – is a nightmare. And like. Yeah ok, I could just write one-shots of the scenes I want to write without the thousands and thousands of words of context but – and you might have noticed this – I am a CONTEXT FIEND. In terms of stand alone fics it’s like I said above about Only Ever Just One Night – fresh in a new fandom and determined-to-get-my-thoughts-down fics are usually dead easy to write.

✎ how do you think readers would guess a fic was yours if you posted anonymously?

Ah this one’s easy: it would be LONG. Probably at least three times as long as it needed to be. For a long time very little would happen, but the minutest detail of everyone’s body language would be described and everyone would probably be in denial about their emotions/circumstances. Most likely they would fuck nasty about it.

♡ pick a fic and I’ll pick a comment that made me really happy

(Escape Velocity) Well OF COURSE I am happy the person it was dedicated to left lovely comments. But especially where you picked up on Brasso being worried about flying in ships because he knows how to take them apart, and even more especially the idea of Cassian ‘stealing’ Brasso temporarily at the moment it’s paralleling the light on Kassa’s face when he leaves Kenari :’) it’s especially pleasing when readers pick up on stuff like that.

▵ pick a fic and I’ll tell you my favorite line

(Counting on You) Still a wip, so subject to change, but I’m very pleased with ‘something crueller than punishment - the certainty that Cass is loved’ and utterly delighted that @elwenyere picked it out in a comment <3

♫ send a fic and i’ll make a 3-5 song playlist for you

(Brassian saga au) Thankfully I already have a 3 hour playlist for the vibes, so to cherry pick some essentials, here we go…

Kate Bush – Get Out of My House Sam Lee – The Devil & the Huntsman Björk – Pagan Poetry Nikniume – Nonantzin Anna B. Savage – Crown Shyness

[tiredstarryeyes]

Some random thoughts I’ve had about life lately:

- Friends don’t last forever. Some are here for a lifetime yes, but some are purely here for a lesson (for themselves, or you) and some have come to save you during dark times. I think people in general truly do come and go like the wind, but it’s not all bad. You grow out of each other for a reason. Looking back I can always see the end was near when people were about to leave or before something happened. Something felt off and I thought it was me. The beginning of the end became very clear in retrospect, since that’s when you try to hold onto them the most…I’ve yet to reconnect with people I’ve outgrown. Everything happens for a reason. Friends/People come and go, but you’ll survive it.

- A new city won’t change your life. External things like a new apartment, new city, new job, new wardrobe (at least, I’m starting to realise) won’t miraculously overhaul your life into something that you’ve been dreaming of. I held onto that vision for months (albeit I was in a very traumatic situation) and as soon as I packed up my things and got into that plane to start over, initially yes it was exhilarating and exciting. Something different and new will make you feel out of place in the best way for the first few months, but eventually that shine fades, and you have to find it in yourself to keep creating that. All I know now, is that your little life isn’t insignificant, it’s just private and yours and that can be good enough to make you feel content and happy, if you allow it.

- Anxiety and Depression isn’t chosen by its sufferers. You don’t choose it, (who the fuck would choose this, it’s horrible) …it chooses you. For whatever fucked up reason. Say it’s from trauma, it’s hereditary, you just have it and have to live with it … I just see it as a weird blessing and a curse to feel so much. Honestly I wouldn’t be the person I am without it and that can be comforting. I’d rather not spiral into anxious manic thoughts however 🙄 (it’s exhausting and I hate myself for it) but writing this is helping. You have to find an outlet for those thoughts and have a relationship with them, because your thoughts are with you for life. Probably the longest relationship you’ll have with anything or anyone are those thoughts rumbling around in your brain. I find not giving them power or a feeling helps me to live alongside them. Don’t give them your anger, frustration, sadness, fear, loathing etc. Acknowledge they are there, see them, feel them, say Thankyou, take a deep breath and let them go.

- You will never ever ever ever EVER convince someone to be in your life or like you or love you or want to see you if they don’t. Period. Just like friends, people you meet on dates, through work, through others, any god damn human you come across in life, in anyway shape or form - you will NEVER be able to control how they are literally going to react to you or feel about you. If someone doesn’t want to see you, they won’t. If someone does, they will see you. If they don’t want to talk to you they won’t, no matter what they’ve said or done. Even if they’re unsure about it, the easiest way to deal with that is to not take any action until they decide and feel 100% that they are going to reach out now. And by the time they’ve come to that conclusion- it could be weeks, months, even years along and you better have been living your life and putting yourself first regardless.

- I think the only thing that’s really in your control is your commitments, habits, loyalties and disciplines. They simply have to align with what you want out of life and at first it’s going to feel like a chore, until it’s not. They say it takes 30 days to make a habit. We are creatures of it. No one says it’s easy either…it’s always just worth it. But if you don’t think you’re worth it, you’re not going to be…and shit will just stay the same.

- Social media, movies, shows etc, isn’t real life. It comes close, but it’s not how humans really are. It’s just romanticised and delivered in a cute little package that’s so believable, we will sit there on our phones or in front of our computers hours on end and believe the lie over and over and over again. It’s an escape and entertaining but maybe ask yourself why you need that escape…As an Actor myself I feel like I’m being a hypocrite in writing this because I’m definitely not lying when I work, I’m just living in another persons world for a bit and letting myself feel the circumstances of this persons situation… it feels very real to me, but it’s most likely because so work a lot with empathy. All I’m saying is it might be important to make note of your screen time. (As I write this on Tumblr lol!?) I just don’t think our brains are wired to deal with this much dopamine man. Idk I’m still figuring this one out.

- No one but YOU, can fix your life. People can be there for help and support and hold your hand for a moment, but if at the end of the day, if you want someone to stand there and plead with you to say, “Don’t you dare give up!” so that you don’t…I think that person has to be you… let yourself be that person, and see what happens.

[troglobite]

lol to think i was proud of myself last night

bc i managed to bring in the garbage can (that i should’ve brought in on friday), went through the ballots & filled them out for us, applied for my student loan debt forgiveness, cleaned the kitchen, baked, and cleaned again. and ran the dishwasher.

fucking pathetic. none of that helped anything. i should’ve done almost all of it way sooner than i did. 

now i’m just laying here like the pathetic piece of shit i am 

so much for “feeling better”

my stupid pathetic ass had a fever for a couple days and had some weird body aches and soreness and i got scared i was dying and made it her problem 

of course she’s annoyed at me and resents me

i can’t do anything right and she always has to clean up after me even if i ask her not to and tell her i can do it myself

she doesn’t believe or trust me and why would she

i’m 27, almost 28, i live at home, i don’t have a job, i can’t do fucking anything

i was proud of myself for doing the easiest most basic pathetic bullshit ever

and my brother’s coming up w his girlfriend tomorrow and i thought i could see them too but he said he doesn’t trust PCR tests to be accurate so he doesn’t want to be around me

but he and his gf and my mom have all had covid already so it’s way more dangerous for THEM than it is for me 

so idk why he doesn’t want to see me

and my mom didn’t explain

and now i can’t ask her

i just need to accept that i’m a burden to everyone i know

you’d think i’d fucking get it at this point but no

i’m too stupid

i bailed on a PhD bc i was too weak and pathetic to do it

i could barely stand living on my own bc i got lonely and sad

no one wants to hear my problems bc they’re annoying and pathetic and they suck, and how do you have sympathy for a pathetic loser like me?

no wonder my friends don’t like me and leave me. i have no right to be mad at them for not wanting to hear me complain endlessly abt this shit. 

i just put it here to look at for myself and hope that the endless series of read more posts doesn’t clog everyone’s dash

but y’all have bigger more interesting lives than me anyway so you’re not on here all the time like i am bc i have nothing in my life nothing to do or live for or enjoy nothing to be proud of

i’m a disugsting failure and i’m sorry

i’m sorry i can’t even be a more interesting failure, too. just pathetic. 

[landoncrris]

hey - I have a request and I think you’ll be the best person for it! Can you do a fic where you’re Sophia’s friend from Germany who‘s visiting Soph + Kai in London? There, reader and Mason meet and hit of immediately. It’s by your choice if it’s fluff or smut - I just leave it to your imagination 🥰 thanks bestie!

anon thank you sm for requesting this!! hope it’ll meet your expectations <33

no doubt - mason mount x reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN // MASTERLIST

warnings: english is not my first language

word count: 2.5k

It was the first time you were able to visit your best friends Kai and Sophia in London as your job usually didn’t give you more than one Sunday off, keeping you in Germany. But now, luckily, you had a week off, and when Kai told you that he and his teammates had planned a little party to end the season with properly, and that he could bring two more guests — Sophia and you — you couldn’t help but say yes.

You’ve met some of his teammates briefly before when you were at a game with Sophia, but it never went beyond a “hello” and an introduction from Kai. That, and the fact that Kai assured you several times that they were the easiest people to get along with ever, calmed your nerves a little, because normally you didn’t feel very comfortable in a room with lots of people you don’t know.

So this was how you found yourself stepping out of the car right in front of his teammate Ben’s house, whose wealth was already intimidating you again. Coupled with the feeling of still being unsure about your outfit, which consisted of a plain black jeans with a top that was neither too short nor too long, as you didn't know what else to wear, but you certainly didn’t want to draw too much attention to yourself.

“Just stay with me, you’ll be fine. And I promise you that most of them are really nice.” Sophia said in your ear as you made your way to the front door while wrapping her arms around you, which also confirmed that she wouldn’t leave your side. “But what about Kai? I don’t want to be the clingy child you brought.” you laughed nervously, but she just squeezed your arm comfortingly and nodded beside her, where Kai was already engrossed in a conversation with Timo and not paying any attention to you at all.

“Believe me, I’m glad you’re here. Otherwise I’d have to listen to them talking about some weird video games all night.” you had to laugh at that, grateful to have her by your side and you trusted her completely when she said that she wouldn’t leave you alone. “Wait here a moment, I’m gonna go looking for Ben.” you heard Kai say to both of you, giving his girlfriend a kiss on the head before he and Timo left, leaving you to stand in the entrance hall waiting for them to return.

“Is he nice?”

“Who?”

“You know, the pretty one.” you shrugged, because you knew next to nothing about football and didn’t know the names of the people you didn’t met yet. But when you went to some of Kai’s games, there was always one particular person on the pitch you couldn’t take your eyes off. Unconsciously, that was probably one of the reasons you wanted to come here, even if you have never met him, he was ridiculously good looking. “So that’s the reason you accepted the invitation?” she asked, reading you like a book, as you didn’t tell her, you just asked her about him at the games.

“Maybe.” you shrugged with a growing smile on your lips, to which Sophia snorted, “From what I’ve talked to him, yes, he’s nice. I’ll ask Kai to introduce you two.”

“No,” you said quickly and gave her a light pat on the arm, your cheeks heating at the thought. “That’s embarrassing. Besides, Kai would never let it go.”

“Then I guess you have to introduce yourself.”

“Maybe he’s not even here.” you muttered, part of you hoping he wasn’t, because now that you’d told Sophia, there was definitely no getting around talking to him, and you weren’t entirely sure you were capable of it, especially not completely sober. But unfortunately for you, you heard her humming and surreptitiously pointing her finger at someone across the room. You could only see his side profile, but it took you a moment to recognise him, as you only ever saw him from a distance, but from what you saw, he looked even better. His hair fell in soft curls and the dimples in his face were clearly visible through his broad smile.

But before your conversation could continue, you saw Kai and Timo come back out of the corner of your eye, but this time with Ben at their side. The latter greeted you both with a brief hug and informed you that you could take any of the drinks from the kitchen but “without getting pissed and breaking anything” — a concern that was understandable, because his furnishings looked like they had cost a hell of a lot of money. And just before he went on his way again, the man you had admired just a few minutes ago approached your group and greeted Timo, Kai and Sophia before stepping closer to you and holding out his hand for you to shake.

“Hey, I’m Mason, nice to meet you.” he said politely as you shook his hand, not missing the way his eyes scanned your figure, even if he tried to do it as quickly and stealthily as possible. Just the small action made your heart beat faster, and you only managed to croak out a quiet “Y/N” whereupon he nodded and smiled.

“Mase c’mon, need you to be my wingman.” Ben said, pulling him back by the shoulders as his hand left yours, but his eyes stayed on yours for a few more seconds that felt much longer than they were, like everything was in slow motion. When he smiled one last time at you and turned away to follow his friend as he groaned out a “Seriously? Again?”, everything around you went back to normal.

As unknowing as Kai was, he completely missed the look Sophia gave you, coupled with a little nudge to your shoulder, which you returned with a shake of your head and a roll of your eyes. But you couldn’t deny how he made you feel, even though you hadn’t even really spoken to him yet, you felt more nervous than ever at that moment, but at the same time you set yourself a goal for the day, which was to talk to him again, and more than just one word.

“Can we have a drink please?” you asked, but were already on your way to find the kitchen when the words left your mouth. The next few hours were filled with you trying to get the right amount of drink to feel safe, but not too much to embarrass yourself, while listening to Kai’s bad jokes and Sophia trying to tell you to go over and talk to Mason. But since he was logically always with other people, you just couldn’t do it, especially not after you awkwardly walked past him after coming out of the bathroom while he was waiting for it to be free.

“You two want to play beer pong?“ asked Kai as he settled down next to Sophia on the sofa some time later, putting his arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her cheek, while interrupting your conversation. “Have you had enough of Timo already?”

“Nah, he went home because his girlfriend isn’t feeling so good.” he answered Sophia’s question, to which she hummed. Before she looked at you with a questioning look, quietly asking if you wanted to play, whereupon your gaze went back to Kai, “With who?”

“What do you mean?”

“We need an even number of people to play.” you laughed at his drunken state, which made him even more out of his mind than usual. “Oh, yeah, right...” his eyes searched the room for a moment, his gaze wandered over the faces of his fellow teammates, considering who he could best play with.

“Mase!” he shouted a few times across the room, trying to be louder than the music, until he had the attention of the other man, who raised his eyebrows to ask him what he wanted. While Sophia just shook her head and hid her face in her hands as his shouting got almost everyone’s attention, although luckily there weren’t many strangers around so she wasn’t too embarrassed. But instead of shouting more words, he just pointed repeatedly at the beer pong table, his hand swaying a little so Mason came over shaking his head, not understanding what he wanted.

“What?” asked Mason with a smile at the state his friend was in at the moment, for he had never seen him so drunk. “Beer pong? You in?” he nodded and put a hand on Kai’s shoulder as his gaze drifted to you and Sophia with a gentle smile,

“So, what are the teams?” he held out a hand to Kai to help him stand up, “Boys versus girls, of course.” and you watched as Kai put an arm around his shoulder to support himself as you and Sophia walked right behind them, while she sent you a confident smile and a thumbs up to silently tell you that this is your opportunity to talk to him.

“Great, so I’ll be in the loser team.”

“Loser team? I’ll play with my girlfriend then, at least she wants to be on a team with me,” Kai said dramatically, pushing Mason to the other side of the table when you got there, which made him chuckle into his hand, “Right?” Kai turned to Sophia and planted a big, greasy kiss on her cheek, making her want to escape him, if it weren’t for his arms around her.

“Do you want to come with me?” asked Mason close to your ear to make sure you heard him, which startled you a little, at which you turned to him with furrowed brows, “To refill the cups?” he added as he raised them to make his point.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” you nodded, to which he winked at you, making you pray in your head not to fuck up as you followed him into the kitchen. “Shall we have beer or something stronger?”

“I think Kai has had enough for today to be honest. Might fill his just with water.” you laughed as you leaned against the counter and watched him get a few things from the fridge, “Water really isn’t a bad idea. I don’t think Ben would be happy about him throwing up in his house.” he mumbled, already filling a couple of cups with water so Kai wouldn’t notice, while he tried to take the opportunity to talk to you as he too had been thinking about it all night.

“So you’re one of Sophia’s friends?” he asked, looking at you briefly and waving you over as the music was a little too loud for the distance, “Yeah, we went to school together.”

“That means you’re from Germany, right?” he filled up the last cup of water, thinking it was enough for the moment, before turning around, leaning back against the counter too and watching you nod in response to his question. “Yes, I’m just visiting, but I plan to move here too when I graduate next year.”

“What are you studying?” he asked politely, trying to stifle the remark that he was looking forward to seeing you more often, “Psychology.”

“So beauty and brains.” he quickly replied as if he already had it in his head, which made you laugh nervously, but at the same time you felt comfortable with him and your continued conversation felt like you had known him for ages, as you don’t usually manage to hit it off with people straight away and talk to them so easily. Whereas he felt like you were actually interested in talking about him because the topic of his job didn’t come up once, like it did with every other girl he met. And during your conversation you completely forgot why you came here in the first place, so Sophia tried to deal with an impatient Kai and stop him from interrupting the conversation, which was ultimately unsuccessful.

“What are you two doing?” Kai’s voice rang out in the room as he approached you where you were standing at the sink and took both your arms in his hands to pull you with him, “I thought we were going to play.” he groaned when you didn’t move,

“Take these,” Mason muttered as he handed him the empty cups to carry and you the ones filled with water. “We were hoping you’d forget about it and go home.” he teased Kai, earning a fake laugh and a punch to his ribs.

“Are you good at playing?” Mason asked you when you had arrived at the table and had everything set up, while Sophia winked at you and raised her eyebrows the whole time, “I’m an uni student.”

“Right.” he laughed, watching you successfully aim your first throw at one of the cups filled with water for Kai to drink, “and you?”

“I’m good with balls.” he said, watching Kai miss his throw as expected, “Just usually at your feet.”

“I’m good with my hands too.” he sent you a glance, gulping at the ambiguous statement as you watched him run his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he waited for Kai to pick up the ball. “Prove it,” you muttered riskily and watched him smirk and look away with one eyebrow raised, throwing the ball and also successfully aiming it at one of the cups filled with water.

The rest of the game passed without much conversation, just the two of you making fun of Sophia and Kai while you made a great team and almost didn’t need to drink anything. “Another round?” asked Sophia, looking at you and Mason since Kai was barely playing anyway. You answered with a shrug and out of the corner of your eye saw Mason pull out his phone and look at the time.

“I’d love to, but I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick and then head home.”

“Already?” you asked, looking at the time yourself, which just read 12am, “Yeah, have to get up early in the morning.” he replied before disappearing into the bathroom, Sophia quizzing you in the meantime.

“Alright Soph, see you around,” his voice rang out again as he came back to the three of you and gave her a quick hug, and patted Kai on the shoulder while saying a “Cheers, mate,” before walking over to you and hugging you as well, putting one hand around your waist as you felt the other sneak something into your back pocket, and the feel of his fingers on your bum made you shiver.

“Text me.” he whispered in your ear before he said goodbye to you with a final wink, watching him leave and say goodbye to the others as well. Pulling out the note immediately because you were too impatient to wait, you saw his phone number written on it, along with a “;)” that made you smile to yourself for the rest of the night.

[honeystwiggypeach]

I get off early!

Robin Buckley x single mom!reader

Summary~ Everyone in Hawkins knew you were a single mother but somehow that never stopped Robin from going after you.

Trigger warning~ teen pregnancy, loosing friends due to this, hinted that it’s an au where the upside down is relevant(idk haven’t decided if it is yet🤷might write in some angst in a later part or something, probably not), fear of being outed,

Part two that is kinda angst-ish I’m not sure?

When you first met Robin you where in your freshman year of highschool, the two of you quickly became best of friends, though slowly the two of you developed feelings for one another, Robin terrified to be outed refused to say a word about her feelings to anyone except Steve and you not wanting to feel rejected convinced yourself they were just platonic feelings and began to go out with some little jock guy.

Turns out that would leave you with a two year old baby girl named, Alice. After you got pregnant everyone except Robin quit being your friend due to rumors but slowly Robin stopped hanging out with you as well as she dealt with her own issues.

Once you graduated highschool you continued with college but it’s not the easiest being a single mom, and with a job and schooling but you’re managing.

Today was one of the rare days you had gotten out of all scheduled classes and shifts, you could finally spend the entire day with Alice.

Walking into family video you set Alice down, “alright angel, what movie do you want to watch?” You ask her holding her little hand as you guide her towards the children’s movies. She was a shy little girl, she only liked a select few people, she liked princess movies and the color pink, Alice wasn’t that hard to understand so you knew she’d pick the my little pony vhs.

You smiled having guessed correctly as Alice holds onto your pants while pointing towards the vhs. You grabbed the film and put Alice on your hip before making your way to the counter.

“Y/n?” You hear someone ask.

You glance up to see Steve standing behind the counter but before you can say a word a familiar girl is running out the break room pushing Steve away from the counter so she can ring you up.

“Robin?” You ask quietly, she smiles softly looking between you and Alice.

“Listen y/n, I can promise you I never meant to stop hanging out with you, I just some stuff kept coming up and I’d tell you what it was I just don’t think you’d believe me and I’m really sorry I never meant to do that, and now I’m rambling” she comes to a halt when she hears your soft giggles the same ones she fell in love with.

“Robin it’s fine.” You tell her, “what ever came up obviously needed to be taken care of and that’s fine.” You tell her smiling as she hands you the vhs.

“Maybe I can…” she pauses for a moment and the look on your face is screaming at her for what you hope the next words that leave her mouth to be the ones you’ve waited years to hear, “take you out sometime and explain…and catch up you know.” She whipsers suddenly getting nervous.

“I’d like that, you know you could always come over and watch my little pony, I’m sure Alice wouldn’t mind would you honey?” Alice looks up with wide eyes as you give her a loving look before shaking her head no.

“Oh” Robin can feel herself breath out, “Uhm yea I can come over tonight, I’ll get off early today” Steve sends her a look knowing damn well Robin is lying she was supposed to work later tonight.

“Great it’s a date than!” You tell her turning around to exit.

“It’s a date” she mumbles under her breath as Alice waves to her letting out a little bye bye.

I will write a part two for this fic(very soon working on it now so!!) maybe I’ll even make it into a little series if anyone would like that!! I haven’t really decided if this is just like fluffy happy au or if I want to try and write with cannon plot line but add in reader and Alice maybe a combination? Like I have an idea for one thing about the cannon stuff but other than that no idea😭

[redpandaramblings]

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 6

Part 1 Here

Next part Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship, Bakugou is a dumbass but so is y/n

Where we left off-

Before Bakugou could reply, the jeweler came back into the room and handed Denki a piece of paper.

“All right sir, here is your receipt! Your ring should be ready in three days.”

“Thanks.” Denki shoved the receipt into his pocket, quickly making his way to the door. “See you around Bakubro. Don't want to be late for my shift.” The door closed behind him with a bang.

Bakugou wasn’t annoyed though. Now he could pick out the perfect ring for Y/N and not worry about Kaminari being nearby. Everyone knows Kami can’t keep a secret to save his life.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep all of this a secret.” Denki moaned into his hands. He was sitting with his head buried in his arms. Y/N reached across the table and gently petted his hair.

“I know what you mean, but I don’t think either of us are in a good position to start telling people.”

Y/n and Denki sat in a secluded corner of a dimly lit cafe. Both of them had this time free and both of them definitely needed to talk. They stood a lot less chance of anyone asking questions if they were just two friends getting lunch instead of them privately going to each other’s apartments.

Denki looked up, giving Y/N a wide eyed expression. “I know, but I wasn’t expecting Bakugou to show up when I was dropping off that abomination of a ring! I just was lucky the jeweler had already taken it to the back. You were right by the way, that thing is absolutely horrendous. Like, was the designer blind?”

Y/N snorted. “From what I’ve heard, great great grandpappy had a lot more money than brains and wanted to impress his omega by shoving as many stones onto a ring as possible.”

“No kidding. I think it can be seen from space.”

“Very likely.” Y/N chuckled before slumping back into her seat with a sigh. “Though I might have an idea about what Bakugou was doing there.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Y/N nodded with a sigh. “Yeah. When I got back he invited me to the summer festival. I’d forgotten about it.”

“Ah shit, yeah. Isn’t that your guys' anniversary?”

“Yep.” Y/N sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Of course he had to pick this time to actually celebrate. We haven’t gone or done anything… God, I think since he became a hero.”

“So you think he was getting a gift.” Denki sat back as the server came, placing your orders in front of each of you. You both murmured your thank yous and waited until the server was out of earshot before resuming your conversation.

“Yeah, he had to have been. Makes me feel terrible, but there wasn’t a good time to… Well…”

Y/n gestured between herself and Denki.

“Tell him that you’ve been betrothed to an omega of much superior looks, breeding, and manners?”

You gave Denki a little kick under the table as he cackled. He grinned cheekily as he poked at his food. “Sorry. Humor is my coping mechanism. I get it though. Timing sucks all the way around.”

You nodded, sighing and taking a bite of your own food. “Can’t say anything during his heat. Then his schedule was swamped, and I had to sort things out with you. Then bam, anniversary that for some reason he decided to remember this year.”

Denki snorted, popping a bite into his mouth. “That’s about the long and the short of it. And we haven’t even begun to figure out how to tell everyone we’ve not only accepted arranged betrothals, but that we’re engaged to each other.”

“I don’t know, I was kind of hoping we could just move to Tahiti and never speak to our former friend groups ever again?”

“A valid possibility. But that means we’d have to learn French and maybe Tahitian. You know I only passed English because Hitoshi and his dad coached me.”

“Fair point.” You sighed heavily. “But I’m really not looking forward to these conversations.”

“They have to happen though. You might have some anonymity to hide behind, but I’d rather my friends not find out about our engagement when they see an article about Chargebolt getting married.”

“Really?” You smirked slightly. “Then you’re going to tell everyone at your agency, hmm?”

Denki kicked you under the table. “Shut up!”

You poked at your food again as the smile fell from your lips. “So… Did you get a chance to think about what I sent you?”

Kaminari nodded. “Yeah. And I hate to say it, but I think you’re right.”

“I thought about it a lot. I hate to leave the area, but it would be too awkward to stay here after everything.”

A few days ago you had sent Denki an email with a list of places that had job openings that would suit both of you. You both loved where you lived, but after everything, how could you stay? There’s no way the two of you could continue to keep living in the same apartment building as Bakugou. That would be cruel. Cruel to whom you didn’t quite want to think about. You spoke up again.

“Any place catch your eye?”

Kaminari nodded. “I was kind of thinking Okinawa. I have a few connections there. Decent distance from here and from our parents. And that would probably be the easiest transition.”

“Works for me.” You said, as if it wasn’t ripping your heart out to do this. It hurt. But it had to happen. In the end, you had to believe this was what was best for everyone. It might take some time, but this was it. This was what would make everyone happy in the long run.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shinsou was worried. Denki had been acting odd. And that’s saying something. The blond omega was usually loud and bubbly, the life of the agency. At least once a week, he invited Shinsou out for drinks, meals, clubs, karaoke, or some other nonsense. But ever since he’d gotten back from his three day leave, Kaminari had been acting strange. When he thought no one was looking, he was quiet. Withdrawn. Like he was puzzling out the toughest problem of his life.

Denki having a problem? Pretty typical. Denki having a problem and not talking to Shinsou about it? Pretty unusual. The blond had always come to the purple haired alpha with even the simplest of problems. Apartment searches, furniture assembly, what support items would suit his quirk best, even things like what to get from Starbucks. And even though he might groan and roll his eyes, secretly Hitoshi loved every second of it. When he had helped by digging through websites, cobbling together a rickety shelf, or reminding Denki that he always got the most cloyingly sweet items on the menu; Hitoshi got to pretend that he was Denki’s alpha.

Shinsou wasn’t sure exactly when he had fallen in love with Denki. Probably had been since high school at least. His dad had warned him against loud blonds while his father had laughed. But he couldn’t help it. Kaminari had been one of the first people to enthusiastically believe in him. Had always sought him out and wormed his way into Shinsou’s life and heart. And now Shinsou couldn’t understand it, but Denki was pulling away. Even as he watched the blond who was typing up a report on his computer, it somehow felt like Kaminari was slipping right through his fingers.

Shinsou cleared his throat. Kaminari glanced up. “Yeah man? What’s up?”

“You doing okay, Denks? You’ve seemed a little out of it.”

Denki met his eyes, startled, then quickly glanced away. “Yeah. Yep! Totally fine.”

“Denki. I know you.”

Kaminari sighed and slumped on his desk. “Just some life stuff. Family stuff. Friend stuff.”

Shinsou frowned, walking over to place a hand on Denki’s shoulder. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Denki snorted and laughed quietly. Shinsou furrowed his brows.

“Yeah” Denki sighed. “I know. But half of it isn’t really my stuff to tell and the other half isn’t exactly worth talking about.”

“You sure? We could go grab one of your obnoxiously sweet coffees after work. Go to mine or yours, watch an old crappy horror.”

“Tempting. Thanks man. I would, really, but I got some stuff I have to do after work. Some other time maybe.”

Shinsou frowned. It was rare for the omega to turn down an invitation for a movie night. Hell, it was rare for Denki to turn down an invitation, end stop. It made him even more worried about his omega… friend. His omega friend. His friend who just so happens to be an omega. Hitoshi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He really didn’t want to ruin the best friendship he had. But he couldn’t keep this up much longer. His alpha had decided on the electric blond long ago, and the omega’s unusual behavior and unhappy scent was driving him wild with the need to protect. He really needed to pull himself together and confess soon.

“Well, whenever you’re free then,” Shinsou said, reluctantly letting his hand fall from Denki’s shoulder. “You know my number.”

Denki nodded and looked up, giving him half a smile. “I do. Thanks Shinsou.”

Shinsou walked back to his desk, his mind made up. He needed to tell his omega how he felt, and soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N twisted and turned, looking at herself in the mirror. It had been a very long time since she’d worn a yukata. It didn’t feel right to dress up like this. But wearing anything else also felt wrong. Everything about this date felt wrong. Like this was the kind of she she did in another life. And now here she was, going on a date with the man she loved. Who she’d always love. And who she’d already decided she was going to let go.

Y/N snorted and fussed with her hair a bit. Maybe she should have just refused this date. Claimed to be sick or something. But that felt wrong too. So, she just had to get through tonight. After all, what’s one more night of pretending everything is fine? Hopefully this could be a good memory from a relationship that just wasn’t meant to be. After tonight, she’d wait a couple days and then talk to Bakugou and let him go like he clearly wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki was going to throw up.

He was going to throw up, right here, all over himself and all over shitty hair, too. His red headed friend was giving him a pep talk as he helped Bakugou into his jinbei. Not that Bakugou needed the help. Or the pep talk. It just was easier to let the squad come over when they had found out about his date. It’s not like he wanted them there or anything. Once Kiri, Mina, and Sero realized he was going to use this date to ask Y/N to be his mate, they had insisted on helping him get ready.

None of them knew about the little velvet box in his pocket and that his plans went further than just asking Y/N to be his mate. Bakugou bit his lip to keep from frowning as he looked over his friends, a certain loud blond conspicuously missing. You wouldn’t hear Katsuki admit it out loud, but he really wished Denki could have been here. He loved the others, and they were great in their own ways. But Denki was his pack’s other omega. He got it in a way that the others didn’t. After tonight, he’d have to make sure to catch Pikachu up on all the news. Hell, maybe he could help his fellow blond finally talk to that purple haired idiot he’d been mooning over for years. Everyone in the pack knew Denki’s family had been harping at him to settle down for quite a while.

Bakugou looked up in time to see Mina coming at him with the hair grease. He threw up his hands.

“Fuck no! Keep that shit away from me!”

“You’ve got to do something about that pile of straw you call a haircut. Besides, Wouldn’t it be nostalgic? Weren’t you interning for Best Jeanist again when you asked Y/N out the first time?”

“Yes, and I’d rather shave myself bald than ever have my hair like that again!”

Mina sighed. “Fine. We’ll do something else. But if I can’t slick it back, you will be wearing eyeliner!”

“IN YOUR DREAMS, PINKY!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You waited outside the entrance to the festival. It was strangely soothing to watch the people flow by, like you were a rock overlooking a stream. There were groups of friends, couples both young and old, families where the laughing children ran ahead of their parents eager to get inside. You gave a small smile at the last. Maybe that could be you someday, a parent getting to see a festival through the eyes of a child again. Though the mental picture was hazier than it used to be. The children you half imagined just blurs of colorful yukatas, instead of loud and stubborn blond haired brats with their father’s eyes and attitude. You huffed a quiet laugh to yourself as a thought occurred to you. If you and Kaminari actually went through with this plan, decent chance the kids would still be blond. The thought hurt a little.

“Y/N!”

You looked up and had the breath knocked out of your lungs.

Katsuki was beautiful. You knew it. Thought it often, even. But tonight he practically glowed. His hair had been tamed into a softer look than usual. The jinbei he wore was the perfect compliment to his skintone. Was that… Yes. Dark eyeliner made his crimson eyes pop. Your heart ached. You’d always love this man. No matter how it tore you apart, he’d always own part of your heart and soul. You smiled weakly and raised your hand in greeting.

“Hey. You look good.”

“Thanks.” Bakugou scratched the back of his head. “Mina got ahold of me.”

“That explains it then.”

“Hey!” Katsuki gently elbowed you in the side before taking his place next to you. “You saying I can’t dress up on my own?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N!” You dodged out of the way as he swatted at you, laughing. Yes. This could be it. One last good night.

“Shall we go in?” You asked, holding out your hand.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Katsuki asked as he walked past you, ignoring your hand.

You gave a quiet smile as you followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki picked at his food, none of it making it to his mouth. He was going to be sick. He was going to be sick right here and some paparazzi was going to see and take a picture and the big headline tomorrow was going to be “A Puke Worthy Proposal.” He was trying his best to keep up the illusion that everything was fine and normal, but it was rough. It had been a long time since he’d taken his alpha on even a normal date. And this wasn’t any normal date. It didn’t help that things were feeling forced and awkward.

He wanted to hold your hand, but his own hands were sweating buckets. He tried to keep up casual conversation, but that was getting harder and harder as the night wore on. Every sentence he wanted to just blurt it out and get it over with. It was impossible to keep talking about what vendors he recognized when all he wanted to say was “I love you and I’ll always love you and I want you by my side until the sun stops shining.”

It didn’t help that things felt awkward. Almost nothing was feeling easy or natural. It really had been far too long since the two of you had gone on any sort of date. He frowned as he thought about it. It had been over a year, at least. Longer, even. Well, he was going to have to fix that. He’d be able to use some of that pro hero paycheck and spoil you like you deserved. His Y/N. His mate. And soon, his wife.

Bakugou stared at nothing, his eyes going unfocus as he started daydreaming about how spectacular your wedding would be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was a disaster. You glanced over to where Bakugou stood picking at his food, looking bored. You’d been trying to keep up the conversation, but for the past several minutes you’d only gotten hums or grunts in response to anything you said.

“It’s amazing how they got all those pro heroes to dance nude as one of the main attractions this year.”

Katsuki grunted.

Yeah, he wasn’t paying attention at all.

You sighed, looking down at your own untouched food. You never should have agreed to come. At least this date was proving it to you. This had to end. The two of you didn’t know how to be a couple anymore. It was even clearer that Katsuki wasn’t even interested in trying. You had no idea why he wanted to have this date in the first place. Some bizarre sense of obligation? Maybe his heat had shaken him up enough that his omega needed the sense of normalcy? This issue was this wasn’t normal for the two of you anymore. It hadn’t been for a very long time. You sighed, glancing around for a trash can to oust you untouched dango.

A loud pop caused you to look up. The fireworks were about to start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bakugou looked up at the sound of the first firework.

“Wanna head to the pier?”

You nodded quietly, following him as he led the way. He was sweating so much now that if he set himself off he’d take out half the city.

This was it. It was almost time. The two of you were going to watch the fireworks from the out of the way pier like you had all those years ago. It was at the end of that fireworks show the two of you had had your first kiss. And this time… Well this time at the end of the show he was going to propose and you were going to say yes, and it was going to be perfect.

That is if he didn’t barf before you two got there.

“Hurry up,” he grunted as he picked up the pace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tried not to flinch at Bakugou’s harsh tone. He clearly wanted to get this night over with even more than you did. You tried not to let it hurt.

The pier was empty as it always was. The lack of lighting keeping others away. The first time you had discovered it, it had felt hidden and intimate. Now it felt desolate. Lonely.

You walked up to the railing and stared at the sky. The fireworks didn’t feel magical anymore either. Your fingers wrapped around the railing as you glanced to the side. Bakugou wasn’t even looking up. He was staring at the reflections of flashes in the dark swirling water below.

You couldn’t do this anymore.

No more.

The fireworks illuminated you as your grip on the railing tightened until your knuckles turned white.

“Katsuki?”

“”What?” He asked roughly, barely glancing your way.

“Let’s break up.”

And that was Part 6, my darlings! Hope you're enjoying the drama, because there's more angst on the way! You can scream at me about the cliffhanger in replies, reblogs, tags or asks. :P

TAGLIST- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04, @ladybakugouu, @luajosephdun-blog, @hakunamatatayqueen, @my-thoughts-are-weird, @left-alone-yuki, @officialtrashbusiness, @lonelyheart-clubband, @katsuki-cait, @moonwritters26, @animexholic, @kyrah-williams, @emilymikado, @wolvesblaxe360, @ficklemcselfish, @helena-way07, @fandomsaremylifesposts, @baby-bakuhoe, @sukeraa, l@ucypevensie11, @idk-sam, @katsuki-cait, @weirdestlove, @sasa-slayer, @anime-for-live, @kaidousimp, @bluesdustyflames, @vitheria, @milktea0208, @maristaymulti, @whatdidshesayyy, @memesbyeloise , @fandomsgotmefucked, @killmehe, @shy-panda02 Just a reminder, if you want tagged make sure you have the ability to be tagged turned on; and I’d have to be informed if your blog name changes! Cheers, Darlings!

[brandyllyn]

Validation

Summary: Santi comes home early to find his new roommate a little undressed.

(Santiago “Pope” Garcia x f!Reader) Part 2 : Corroboration

My Masterlist

Word count: 5600 (I don’t know what the fuck happened). Read it on AO3.

Rating: NC17 (Explicit) 

Warnings: oral (m & f receiving). alcohol.

Santiago slammed his truck door shut, leaning forward for a moment to press his forehead to the steering wheel. He needed to stop online dating. The chicks he picked up after hours in bars might not be the kind he ended up keeping around - but at least there he knew what he was getting into. The woman he had met tonight was using a picture of her granddaughter on her profile. And yeah, he didn’t have a problem with older ladies, but twice his age was really too much.

He groaned as he started the engine, swearing to himself and backing out of the spot. All he wanted to do was go home, get drunk, and maybe watch some basketball in his underwear. But he couldn’t.

Because you were there.

The light turned red and he coasted to a stop, mulling the issue over. It was a favor for Frankie. Put his sister-in-law up for a couple of weeks. Maybe a month while you were looking for a job in town. They didn’t have room at the Morales house, what with the baby and all, and Frankie had begged Santi to let you use his guest room for a bit. He’d agreed. 'Cause he was a nice guy and Frankie was a brother.

And to be honest, you weren’t exactly a horrible roommate. You cleaned up after yourself, spent most of your time in your room, and just generally gave him his space. Unless it was one of the nights you offered to cook, he barely saw you.

Which was a shame because you were exactly his fucking type.

"Do not fuck her." Frankie’s warning had hit him like a fist to the gut and he’d looked at the other man incredulously.

"Fish, you think I’d do that to you? She’s fucking family."

Frankie had eyed him dubiously. "Damn right she is. You fucking remember that when you meet her hermano."

It had taken approximately three tenths of a second for Santi to realize why Frankie had given him the warning. Standing on his front steps with a bag in one hand and a wide smile on your face Santi had had to resist the urge to throw you up against the front door and claim you then and there. The first day he had been a mess, alternating between staring at you and avoiding you. He knew you must have thought he was strange but he didn’t know what else to do.

And then you’d come out to get coffee the next morning wearing a tank top and a pair of tiny cotton shorts and every ounce of blood had shot straight to his cock and never come back.

Tonight was supposed to be a relief. A fucking date, his first since your arrival. But the octogenarian was a bust and he was pressing the button for the garage by barely eight thirty. He was home much earlier than he expected. Earlier than he had told you. He didn’t think about that fact as he parked his truck and entered the house through the side door. Didn’t think about it when he toed his boots off and wandered through the laundry room and into the hall, making a beeline for the kitchen and the bottle of tequila on the shelf there.

Maybe he should have.

If he’d have thought about it he might have called ahead. Texted to let you know he was going to be back sooner rather than later. Given you a heads up so that he didn’t walk in on you sitting in his favorite armchair wearing the skimpiest lingerie he’d ever seen in his life and about to take a photo of yourself.

There was just a moment before you noticed him. A moment where the phone blocked him from your view entirely and he couldn’t help how he froze, his eyes scanning over your body. And then your hand dropped, your brow furrowing as you looked at the picture. Another second ticked by before you looked up at him and then you screeched.

Santi spun on his heel, turning to face the wall and squeezing his eyes shut for good measure. "Fuck, sorry," he said, the words spilling out as he pressed one hand through his hair. He could hear you scrambling, muttering curses under your breath for a minute before your laughter shocked him out of his secondhand embarrassment.

"For Christ’s sake, turn around Santi."

He did so slowly, half hoping that maybe you were still… but no. You had a robe on, sash tied tightly around your waist. Yet even then, it was short. Barely covering the tops of your thighs. He’d seen that much leg before, those little shorts that made his fingers itch. But there was something about this expanse of skin. Of knowing that if he lifted the hem of the robe you’d be wearing just a lace-

"I thought you were going to be out late?"

Your voice cut off his train of thought and he tried to slip into his normal charm like it was a mask. "Yeah, date was a bust." He shrugged, walking past you into the kitchen. He really needed a drink. He slammed a cabinet door a little too forcefully while he searched for the bottle he swore he just bought.

"Want some wine?"

He raised an eyebrow when he looked at you, then at the nearly empty bottle of wine you were offering him. Well, that made things make a little more sense. You didn’t seem the type to take nudes - but maybe after a bottle of wine…?

He took the bottle, emptying the remainder into a glass and clinking it to yours before taking a sip. "Sorry I startled you."

You shrugged and the sleeve of the robe fell down your arm, exposing the wide straps of whatever the hell it was you had wrapped around your neck and dipping down to your breasts. It wasn’t a bra. Santi had seen hundreds of bras in his life. Whatever it was you were wearing did not qualify for the name. You pulled the sleeve back up with a casual tug, but now the front was gaping open and Santi could see the hint of your breasts.

"Sorry you walked in on that."

He wasn’t. In fact he was already mentally planning how he might set up this same situation again. What else might you do in the living room if you thought you were alone for the night? "Don’t worry about it, I told you to make yourself at home." Jesus Christ had he really just said that? "Who’s the lucky guy?" He grinned to cover the slight note of envy that crept into his voice.

"Who?"

"Whoever you were taking photos for," he gestured at your phone.

You bit your lip and then shook your head. "No, it’s not… there’s no he."

"She," Santi corrected with a shrug. "I don’t judge."

You laughed and Santi watched the way your throat worked. His beer at dinner and the wine now must be interacting in some strange way because he felt drunk. Light-headed. Like he wanted to lean into you and make some very bad decisions that Frankie would fucking castrate him for.

"No, it was… for a friend," you clarified.

Santi’s eyebrow rose. "You send your friends nudes?"

"They’re not nudes," you corrected him with a glare, "they’re just. You know… you send your friends photos and they hype you up. It’s validation." You sighed softly, "And it’s been a while since I got that."

Santi did not know. At no point in his life had he sent anyone he knew photos of himself. With clothes or without. Hell, he’d never even sent anyone a sexy message - he knew too well how much information someone could find on you if they wanted to. He kept things simple with a 'Mind if I come over' or if he was feeling particularly adventurous 'wanna fuck?'

No one ever complained.

"Validation," he repeated, rolling the word in his mouth. "Huh."

You sighed, setting your elbows on the kitchen island and leaning towards him. You didn’t seem to notice how the action pressed your breasts together or that he could see it in the way your robe gaped open. But Santi noticed. Santi noticed every detail.

"Not that you’d know anything about that." You said with an eye roll. "But some of us aren’t as cocky as you are. Some of us need our friends to reassure us we’re attractive."

Santi opened his mouth then paused, thinking about the next thing he was going to say. You didn’t seem to notice, finishing off your wine in a gulp and moving over to the sink to drop your glass. He shouldn’t do what he was about to do. He knew it - in fact he had promised he wouldn’t. But that had been before. Before he knew you or what your laugh sounded like or the way you smelled. Before the opportunity to do more than just want you had landed squarely in his lap and Santi was left with the easiest decision of his life. And he was nothing if not decisive.

After all, there was no harm in looking right?

"I’m your friend."

You froze in place and Santi swallowed, staring at the back of your thighs and what he thought might be the start of the swell of your ass. He let the words sit there before he said them again. "I’m your friend, querida."

You turned back to him, hands braced on the counter behind you. "What do you mean?"

"If you needed validation, why don’t you ask me?" Your lips parted as you stared at him, the soft gesture enough to send blood rushing to his cock. As if he weren’t already hard enough.

Finally, after what felt like eons, you smiled, huffing a laugh and moving to walk past him. "Funny."

He moved just slightly, not enough to block your way, but enough to force you to have to work to avoid him. He breathed deeply, smelling your soap and a faint overlay of something richer.  "I’m a red-blooded man," he pointed out. "I think I can be reasonably counted on to appreciate a woman’s body."

You were so close. Close enough that he would only need to lean in to taste you, to run his tongue along your plush lips and sink inside of you. You blinked, looking away, and Santi realized that maybe he was coming on a little strong. Especially for someone who until recently had expressed no interest in you whatsoever. In fact had gone out of his way to give every impression of not being interested.

He held his hands up, moving to make plenty of room for you to continue by. "I’m only saying, if you’re looking for someone to admire your lingerie I’m right here and willing." He waggled his eyebrows exaggeratedly, hoping the comical effect would lighten the mood and thank God it did. Your nose crinkled when you looked back over your shoulder at him, stopping near the kitchen table.

"I mean, I suppose you are my target audience," you mused out loud and Santi resisted the urge to adjust himself. He knew what you meant - but damn the idea of you buying lingerie for him was like gasoline on an already raging inferno.

He leaned his hands back against the island, facing you now. Feet crossed in front of him to hide the bulge in his jeans. He shrugged nonchalantly, listening to the blood rush in his ears, his eyes glued to your face. "Only if you want."

Your fingers were hesitant for just a second on the tie of your robe and Santi held himself still, keeping his eyes on yours. He wanted to see you. Fuck he wanted to see you. But he wanted you to want him to see you even more. Wanted you to feel the sense of power in turning him on. He was already there, you just hadn’t seemed to notice yet.

He saw your lips part. Saw the moment your lips quirked, as though you were laughing at yourself for even thinking of doing this. But your fingers pulled the sash and you shrugged and both it and the robe fell to the floor in a heap at your feet.

Santi tried. He really did. He tried to keep his eyes on yours until he saw that you were ready. That you were comfortable. But one of your hands twitched up to cover your stomach for a moment and his eyes followed the path immediately and then he couldn’t look away. There was probably a name for what you were wearing. He should definitely ask you at some point because his porn for the next month was going to feature this thing and it would make the search easier if he knew what it was called.

A wide band of lace - maybe two inches, in deep blue - starting behind your neck and running over your breasts to cover each nipple. The lace continued downwards, framing your stomach before meeting and disappearing between your thighs. There were small straps that went from the lace behind your back, out of sight, that must be holding the thing in place. In the front two sets of straps criss-crossed, one just below your ribcage and the other between your breasts. And right there, right between two of the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen, was a ribbon tied into a bow. Like a present.

He wanted to pull it apart with his teeth.

This… outfit had no practical use. If you moved too quickly you’d be falling out of it six different ways. It’s only purpose was to frame your body in the best light possible. To take your assets and offer them to someone else. To entice someone to commit several different sins with you all at once.

Santi was fucking enticed.

He realized abruptly that your fingers were twitching at your sides and more importantly, he had been just staring at you with no expression at all for what felt like several minutes - although it probably wasn’t that long.

"You’re beautiful," he blurted out.

Oh fuck, it wasn’t the right thing to say because you’re laughing and the motion is doing frankly amazing things to your breasts. But you were also crouching down and gathering your robe and yes that was definitely the wrong thing and he stepped forward, reaching out and grabbing your wrist before you could move further.

"Sorry, that was… you look…" he tried to find words that weren’t going to make you run away but all he could think about was how much he wanted to fuck you and if that lace actually joined together over your cunt or just skimmed around your thighs. "Fuck," he finally bit out.

"Well, that’s better," you said, picking up the robe with two fingers and standing up again.

"It is?" He asked incredulously and you laughed again.

"Santi, if I wanted someone to call me beautiful I’d take a photo on a Sunday morning and send it to my mom." You tried to make a gesture with your hands but he was still holding your wrist. You both glanced at it but he didn’t let go. "I want to hear I look hot. Like I’m smoking. Like you think you’ll come in your pants just seeing me." You gave him a wry smile and started to pull away. Started to put your robe back on and Santi rushed to stop you.

"Querida if you knew what I was thinking…"

You paused, partially turned away, and gave him an assessing glance. "Oh?"

His thumb stroked across your wrist while he considered his next words. He wouldn’t ordinarily. Fucking hell you were Frankie’s sister-in-law and he’d already been promised consequences for messing around with you. But your pulse was wild beneath his fingers and you were standing there looking like that and he just couldn’t bring himself to care about the consequences.

"You look like a fucking wet dream."

You dropped the robe, turning back to him fully. But he was too close. Too close to see you so he took a step back, then another, not letting go of your hand but holding it up between you while he let his eyes crawl over you.

"I’m going to jerk off later thinking about you," he said simply, watching you so closely he saw how your breath stuttered at the words. "Think about twisting my hands into that lacy bit of nothing and using it to hold you to my mouth. Is it scratchy or is it soft?"

"Soft," your reply was so low he barely heard it but it flowed across his skin like honey regardless and he didn’t bother biting back his moan.

"Fuck, of course it is," he nearly spit the words out, his fingers clenching around yours. "But you look even softer. Can I see the back?" He tugged on your hand as he asked and you didn’t hesitate before spinning around.

There was nothing there.

Well, not nothing. But five pieces of string no wider than fucking scotch tape was so close to nothing as to make no difference. He wanted to touch. Wanted to snap those strings against your body. Get on his knees and bite the globes of your ass that were perfectly exposed to him around the lines of what might charitably be called a thong.

"Fucking hell querida, I want to bend you over that table and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name."

You moaned. He heard it, clear as a bell in the room and he turned you back to face him. "When I say you look beautiful, that is what I mean. That I want to lose myself inside of you and not come out for days."

"That’s…" you trailed off, lips parted, your breath lifting your breasts in rhythmic motion.

"Validation?" He asked with a grin and laughed when you smiled in return.

"Yeah."

You were still holding his hand and he was sick of standing so far away from you. He pulled in the same motion he stepped towards you, encouraging you closer to his space. Looking down he could see your bare feet just a scant inch from his toes. If you took a deep breath your nipples would brush his shirt, hell if he took a deep breath they might. Ever so slowly he raised his free hand, hovering it over your chest before asking, "May I?"

"Please."

He groaned. Not 'yes,' but 'please' - said with a breathy moan that struck right to the heart of him. You were begging for his touch, your mouth slightly agape and your lips trembling with each breath. No man on earth could fault him for giving in. When his fingers touched the band of lace you took a shaky breath, eyes closing.

"It is soft," he commented, slipping his hand beneath to rub the fabric between his fingers. He slid his hand down, gently tracing over the lace until he felt the hard peak of your nipple pressing upwards. He paused for a second, lightly stroking, your entire body shifting underneath his touch, before he continued the path downwards. Over your stomach, your hip, just barely stroking at the top of your cunt.

"Soft," he said again and pressed his fingers a little harder, slipping between your lips and nudging at your clit. Your head fell back on a choked gasp and Santi’s control snapped. His hand wedged further, feeling your wetness coat along his fingers and forcing you to take a step back. Your ass hit the table behind you and he gently nudged your knees apart with his own. Now he had his answer, the lace never did join together between your thighs. There was absolutely nothing to stop him from twisting his fingers and pressing them up inside you.

You gasped again, his name this time, and he let go of your wrist to cup the back of your neck, jerking you forward and into his mouth. His tongue thrust inside, met immediately and enthusiastically by yours. Your hands came up to clutch at his shirt, twisting the fabric so hard he heard a faint rip at the seams. His lips quirked as he pulled away, his free hand falling to your wrist again.

"Seems I might be overdressed."

You nodded so earnestly he couldn’t help but grin, swooping in to kiss you again and pressing your hand to the buttons of his shirt. He could do it himself but that would mean pulling his fingers out of the hottest and wettest cunt he’d ever had the pleasure of being inside. And he wasn’t ready to do that yet. Instead he traced his fingers over the bow between your breasts, pulling gently before breaking away to ask, "What happens if I undo this?"

You had his shirt pulled free of his pants, the buttons undone and the fabric pushed back over his shoulders. He’d be more cocky about the lusty look on your face while you stared at his chest but he wanted an answer to his question so he tapped beneath your chin and forced you to look up. "The bow? What happens if I pull it?"

Your brows pulled together and you glanced down. "I think it’s decorative."

He hummed to himself and pulled, slightly disappointed when you turned out to be right. The sound of you undoing his belt hit his brain before he fully processed what your hands were doing and he finally pulled his fingers away from you, catching both of your wrists in his grip. You pouted, lips pursing and brow furrowing. Chuckling, he brushed his lips over yours and let you go, leaning down slightly to cup under your ass and lift you the few inches up onto the table.

"You got me distracted," he scolded, hooking one of the dining chairs with his foot and pulling it over. "I promised you my mouth, didn’t I?" Your eyes were hazy and he pressed a kiss to your temple before sitting in the chair, using his hands to spread your thighs wide. He stared for just a moment and then looked up at you, your breasts right at the level of his face. Never losing eye contact, he leaned forward and set his teeth to your nipple.

Christ, you made the most delightful faces for him. And noises too. He reached up and cupped your jaw in his hand, running his thumb along your lower lip where your teeth were digging into the soft flesh. He groaned when you pulled it into your mouth, your tongue caressing it and then sucking softly. He pressed his forehead to your chest, taking a deep breath.

"Lie back." He didn’t move as he said it, just mumbled the words into your cleavage. But he followed you when you did, catching a set of straps with his teeth and then letting go to turn his cheek to lay on your stomach. Slowly, he drew his fingers out of your mouth and down your body, grinning to himself when you shivered beneath his touch. Ticklish - he’d have to remember that for later.

He pressed a quick kiss to your navel and sat up, pulling your knees over his shoulders in one movement. You arched beneath him and he wasted no time tangling his fingers in that lacy bit of nothing you were wearing and pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He could see how wet you were, hell he could fucking smell it. That heady scent of arousal that made his cock jerk and his mouth water.

Santi moaned when he tasted you for the first time. It was partially technique, he knew the vibrations would riot across your nerve endings and drive you wild. But it was also just because he couldn’t fucking help it. He slid his tongue through your folds, pressing his tongue flat to you and burying his face into your cunt. He loved this. Loved making a woman squirm and moan for him. Loved the feel and taste and sound of it.

Loved that in this moment you were his.

He jerked his fingers tighter into the straps of your lingerie, digging into your hips and holding you still while he worked you with his tongue. Pressing his lips to your clit and shaking his head side to side, flicking his tongue over it, pulling it between his lips and humming. He pulled out every trick he knew, watching you heave and thrust and arch in his hands while he learned what you liked, what you didn’t like, and what drove you absolutely wild.

When he found that he kept at it, driving you higher and higher. Listened to you calling his name out while he coaxed your orgasm out of you. He wanted to be inside of you, wanted to feel the clench and pulse of your muscles while you came on his fingers. But before he could consider it, before he could try to untangle his fingers from your lingerie, your back arched a final time and he felt you get even wetter, your thighs clenching on his head.

Santi kept his mouth pressed against you while you came back down, gently licking deep inside you and staring up your body. You rose, propping yourself up on your elbows and giving him a bemused half smile and a huff of laughter.

"That was…" You started to say but he thrust his tongue inside you, pulling you closer and grinned when your back arched and your head fell back. "Fucking hell Santi…"

He turned his head to each side, placing soft kisses on your thighs before leaning back to look at you. "What else are friends for?"

God you were beautiful when you laughed, your eyes crinkling and your face breaking into a huge smile. "I feel very validated," you commented wryly and he nipped at your stomach, watching you flinch away from him and try to move backwards along the table. He twisted his hands in your outfit tighter, pulling you back.

"Now now," he tsked. " Where do you think you’re going?"

You stared at him and then sighed, reaching out and brushing a curl off his forehead. "You’re too close."

Santi felt his brows pull together. "What do you mean?"

Sitting up fully, you cupped his face in your hands and leaned down to kiss him, tongue stroking along the seam of his mouth. Tasting yourself on him. You pulled away with a small hum. "You’re too close to the table, I can’t fit in your lap."

The screech of the chair legs was loud in the room but it was covered up by the sound of your laugh. Santi pulled you off the table and onto his thighs, catching the joyful noise with his lips. You wrapped yourself around him immediately, settling onto him like you’d done it a thousand times before. This was… all of your bare skin. On him. Around him. At his fingertips.

He groaned when you pulled your mouth away. "I know there was talk of bending me over the table…" Okay, yes, he was listening. "But I was thinking maybe a softer surface, something more conducive to taking our time…"

The hesitancy in your voice hit him hard and he squeezed your sides and pulled your mouth back to his. "That is a fantastic idea," he mumbled against you. "I know of this great place just down the hall. King size bed. Just changed the sheets yesterday."

Your giggle sent pulse points of sensation through his body and he helped you stand up, unable to stop himself from leaning forward and pressing a kiss between your breasts before he did the same. He motioned you ahead of him down the hall. By all rights he should be leading - it was his room you were going to - but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to walk behind you. To watch all of you dip and sway as you sauntered in front of him. He reached out and cupped under your ass, pinching slightly and watched you jump and turn around right in his doorway. He didn’t stop, kept walking, shrugging out of his shirt and letting it drop to the floor. His hands fell to your hips, holding you close and dipping his head down to kiss you while he continued to back you up towards his bed.

He had a moment of disappointment when you ducked out of his embrace before you got there, side-stepping him and trailing a hand across his chest while you moved behind him. He leaned back against you when you wrapped your arms around his chest, groaning as your hands glided over him. You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, licking up to his hairline. A shudder wracked his body and his hands covered yours, pulling you tighter around him.

"I want to see you," he heard you murmur into his ear, dropping one hand to his belt. "Help?"

"Anything you want," he promised quickly, pulling the belt free and jerking his pants and socks off together. He was left in only his black briefs and his thumbs hooked on them before he felt you stop him with a light touch. You ran your hands around the band, toying with it slightly. His fists clenched at his sides while he resisted the urge to turn around and toss you over onto his bed.

"May I return the favor?"

"What fa-" he started to ask but the words ended in a groan when you slipped your hand beneath his briefs and cupped the hard length of him. Fuck yes. Whatever the favor was you could return it as many times as you liked. As long as you kept stroking along him with those soft fingers and your other hand pushing his underwear down, down, down… much further down than you should be able to reach. It wasn’t until he felt you nip gently just at the top of his thigh that he realized you were kneeling on the floor behind him.

He turned without prompting, kicking his briefs off and nearly fell to the ground himself when you immediately took him in your mouth. "Oh Jesus fuck querida," he moaned, cupping the back of your head in his hands, "you’re going to kill me."

The pleased little hum that vibrated along his cock made his spine tingle. It turned into a shudder when you slid your mouth down him and felt himself nudge the back of your throat for a moment before you pulled away. Your hands were on him, thumbs pressed to the tops of his thighs as you guided him into a slow steady rhythm. Fucking in to your mouth and your tongue working against him.

He ought to close his eyes. The visual of you kneeling on the floor, that scrappy bit of nothing that was going to haunt his fucking dreams, your lips wrapped around his cock - it was too much. He jerked one hand off your head to grip the base of his cock tightly, giving you a half smile when you stopped sucking on him and gave him a quizzical look.

"You’re too good at that," he said with a shrug.

There was no way he could miss the pleased expression on your face, or the way you took the tip of him back into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. Your hand knocked his out of the way, guiding it back on to your head and then going back to stroke along him. It felt like you were taking all of him - every last inch into that perfect mouth. He let go of his tightly held control and just surrendered to the pleasure. Mentally cataloguing the sight and sound and feel of you and the best goddamn blowjob he’d ever had.

When he came it was sudden, he didn’t even have time to warn you. His toes curled and his eyes rolled back in his head and he grunted - the only sign before he was coming in to your mouth but you didn’t seemed phased, just sucked and fucking hell swallowed as he shuddered and cursed and stroked your face.

When the last drop of pleasure was wrung out of him he stumbled backwards, knees hitting the bed and he sprawled across it. His chest was heaving, one arm over his eyes while he tried to remember what his name was. He peeked out from under his forearm in time to see you rise to your feet, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb and licking it.

"Fucking hell woman," he groaned, lifting his head slightly to look at you.

Your hands rose to the neck of the lingerie you had on. "Should I-?"

"Don’t you fucking dare," Santi growled, pointing at you for good measure and flopping back on the bed. "I’m not done with you," he said to the ceiling. "Just give me like… thirty minutes."

Your laugh floated across the room to him and he felt your weight shift the bed to each side of him. Suddenly his vision was you, straddling his waist and leaning over him. "Thirty minutes huh?"

He grinned and reached out to pull your hips closer. Smiling to himself he ran his fingers under the lace, rubbing it between his fingers. "With this thing? Maybe ten."

Frankie was going to murder him.

Somehow, he couldn’t make himself care.

-

Part Two : Corroboration

[professorspork]

If you're accepting non-superhell prompts, I'd love to see a conversation between Nora and Emerald! I've been REALLY loving these microfics, I've subscribed to you on Ao3, I'll read whatever else you write

[Gahhh that’s so nice you’re so nice!! thanks for being patient on this one, finding my Nora took some doing]

It’s occurring to Emerald that she’s never had a close female friend before.

You say that like you’ve ever had any friends before, the voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Mercury needles her, but she brushes it aside. Like—okay, yeah, she’ll concede the point when it comes to Cinder. In hindsight, whatever they’d had going on between them may have been... super intense... but it probably had never been friendship, in the usual definition. But she and Mercury were friends, no matter what the judgy little shitstain version of him who lives in her head has to say about it. They’d always gotten along. Told each other stuff. It’s not like there’s more to it than that, right?

It had always been like that. Been—instinctive somehow, with guys. Before Cinder, on the street, it was always the men who’d been easiest to manipulate; who would empty their pockets for a smile and a sob story. And then she and Merc had been two sides of the same coin for so long, and then... well, Hazel’d liked her enough to die for her, apparently. (Which—that’s a door that she keeps closed, thanks. She shuts it firmly again, now.) Oscar seems fond of her, in a sweet, uncomplicated sort of way that she really doesn’t know what to do with, seeing as he shares headspace with like a trillion year old man and the idea that anything to do with that kid could be “uncomplicated” is batshit. Ren vouched for her once, and then again, and now he keeps doing it, like it’s habit, like she should just be used to the fact that people are going to have her back, to ask her if she’s eaten, to turn to her with a raised eyebrow in conversation like her opinion would be constructive.

Anyway.

Now that she’s noticed the pattern, it seems like the kind of thing she should probably… work on, or whatever. And Nora seems like an obvious place for Emerald to start. They’ve been thrown in together a lot, lately, Emerald and Oscar expected to fill in the gaps of what’s left of the old JNPR by default. Not that they’ve ever really had a conversation about it—Emerald can’t think of the last time Nora said two words to her that weren’t combat warnings like “more Grimm coming” or “on your left,” but. That’s probably just because things have been tense. She remembers Nora being friendly, on the whole of it. Off-puttingly friendly, even, back at Beacon.

How hard could it be?

The answer, it turns out, is absurdly hard. Nora’s barely ever in the temporary barracks they’re all living out of, instead always checking on the refugees, going on supply runs over esoteric requests, volunteering for extra patrols. Emerald used to find that kind of dogged do-goodery gag-inducing, but now that she’s been the helping hand herself a few times, she’s starting to see the appeal. The way people look at you when you’ve been of service, it’s—nice. Really nice. But Nora works utterly thankless jobs, the kind most people don’t even notice, let alone appreciate. And when they have their insufferably long leadership meetings and they’re talking about distribution of resources or whatever, Nora’s a fierce debater—jumping in to advocate for the people from Mantle sometimes even before May can. As far as Emerald can tell, she does this stuff just because... she believes in it. Because it’s the right thing to do, and someone has to.

She can’t imagine what it would feel like, to have the attention of someone like that turned on her. She’s craved it from the wrong people for so long, but now that she has her pick of options... she’s letting herself actually want the right kind, for once. She thinks.

Which is all to say that largely through no fault of her own, Emerald unexpectedly finds herself sitting with a profound, fervent desire for Nora Valkyrie to think she’s cool.

She hates that.

-

Fighting with Nora is easy.

(—er. Alongside. Fighting alongside Nora is easy. Emerald’s done fighting with these people. Very done.)

It’s weird, because Emerald’s finding working with a full team to be a real adjustment. When battles get big enough to merit it, she’s used to keeping to the sidelines to use her Semblance for nefarious purposes, or, in a jam, used to having Mercury’s six—literally, because all the forward momentum from his feet-first style always left his back wide open. Figuring out where to put herself so that Oscar can use her shoulder as a fulcrum as he dodges, or trying to aim for the Grimm Ren isn’t already shooting (ugh)—it’s taking work.

But somehow, it’s not work for Nora. Nora seems to anticipate with perfect ease how Emerald will move or what she’ll be doing; Nora bobs and weaves around their ragtag little band with her war hammer like it’s breathing.

It doesn’t bother Emerald until it does, and she means to bring it up casually but there’s never a good time. So it just… stews, and stews, until she can’t keep it bottled up anymore.

Which means that instead of the earnest question she intends it to be, it comes out like this:

“Okay, seriously? It’s creepy how you do that.”

It’s just the two of them, plus the handful of dweeby Atlesian tech-types they’re escorting back from their foray installing some fancy hydro-filtration modules on the outskirts of the camp. And it’s not like Emerald had felt outmatched by the half-dozen Ravagers that had decided they looked like lunch—she can shoot Ravagers in her sleep, at this point—but still. The way Nora had moved around her, it was like they’d been fighting side by side for years.

Nora just cocks her head to the side. “Do what?” she asks, like she hadn’t just basically read Emerald’s mind in front of the water nerds.

Emerald does a complicated gesture with her hands, wrist over wrist, and then flicking two fingers—trying to evoke the way Nora had flipped over Emerald’s back and then kicked off, just trusting Emerald would reel her back in with a chain in midair before a Grimm could fly away with her sorry ass. “That.”

“Oh!” Nora laughs and rubs at the back of her neck, looking sheepish. “It’s nothing. I guess it’s just not a big deal for me? Like—I was there when Ren built StormFlower. The cables are newish, but we practiced so much back in Atlas… I dunno. It’s just reflex, when your weapons are so similar. Fighting with you, it’s almost like fighting with him. I don’t even have to think about it.”

Nora swallows, then, and makes a face Emerald can’t interpret—disappointed, maybe, or ashamed. Which: good. She probably should be, taking things for granted like that.

“Well—just—” Emerald’s not even sure what she wants to say. Ask, next time? Don’t? “You shouldn’t make assumptions. I’m not your boyfriend, okay?”

The venom she puts behind the word is directed more at herself than Nora—frustrated, again, that she’s put herself in the position of wanting so desperately to be liked.

Pathetic.

Nora just nods, looking glum.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, cheeks pulling in a bitter smile. “You’d think I’d be able to keep that one straight, huh?”

She says it with such pointed irony that for a second Emerald wonders if she’d gotten it wrong somehow, but like—Nora and Ren are a thing, right? That’s—everyone knows that.

“Hey, what—?”

“Let’s just go,” Nora says, and Emerald automatically falls into line behind her.

They make the rest of the walk back in silence.

-

Sometimes at night, when she can’t sleep, Emerald likes to climb up to the roof of the barracks and look out over the refugee camp.

It’s—peaceful, is all. A good reminder of where she is; how far she’s come. The night sky in Vacuo has more stars than she’s ever seen, and being able to watch over all these people who have somehow become her responsibility… well.

A part of her will always be standing on the rooftop at Beacon, looking down on pure chaos as a queasy, frightened sensation twists in her gut and its noxious voice whispers you did this, you did this, you did this. What did you think was going to happen, you stupid little girl? You don’t get to feel sorry for it now.

But she does.

Weird how the only thing that’s helped is actually doing something about it.

She hears a scuffling noise over her shoulder, and she’s got Thief’s Respite drawn and ready before she can even really register what she’s heard. She relaxes when she sees it’s Nora at the other end of the barrels, unarmed and hands raised—a funny little smile on her face, like yeah, fair enough, I should have known better than to try and sneak up.

“Just me,” she says, unnecessarily.

Emerald holsters her guns. “Can I help you?” she asks, and—what is it about her voice, that makes sentences that would be nice if any other human said them come out straight-up hostile?

Nora shrugs, hands dropping to her sides. “I was hoping we could talk; I figured you’d come up here if I waited long enough.”

Well, see—what kind of lesson is she supposed to take from that? She’s been hoping for Nora to talk to her for weeks, and acting like a bitch is the thing that gets her what she wants? Good guys are supposed to know better.

And there’s the way she said it, too. Like everyone knows Emerald comes up here to brood; like it’s a big open secret. The knowledge sits uncomfortably in her stomach, makes her feel watched. Even now, even here, she can’t get a moment alone. Not really.

“What, so you’re spying on me now?”

Nora’s eyes narrow. “I have a pretty bad track record when it comes to losing people. Makes a girl want to put in a little hustle when it comes to keeping tabs on her friends.”

And Emerald would snark at that, or maybe apologize, or something, only—

Nora thinks they’re friends?

“Well, take a seat, I guess,” she mumbles, scooching to the side as though she needs to make room on the massive, empty roof.

Nora walks over and joins Emerald on the asphalt, letting her legs dangle over the edge. Seemingly unsure of where to start, she stares at her hands. Emerald stares too, but her eyes can’t help but wander—tracing the way scars, silvery in the moonlight, spiderweb up Nora’s bare wrists and forearms to fetter her shoulders, clavicle, neck. Like cracks in a pane of glass, right before it shatters.

(Only that’s not it at all, is it? It’s not a sign of weakness, but a warning of strength. I care this much, her scars announce to the word. You wanna try me?

Hazel’s arms always looked like that.)

Emerald doesn’t want to be the one to break the silence, sure that whatever she’d say would be incredibly stupid.

Luckily, Nora has no such qualms, and opens with: “I really admire you, you know?”

Emerald stares, jaw slack, certain she’s heard wrong. “I—what?” She’d say something defensive, like yeah right or you don’t have to make fun of me, only Nora’s eyes are so wide and so guileless they don’t leave any room for argument.

“I mean it,” Nora adds. “I know we don’t know all that much about each other, but… here’s what I do know: I can’t remember a time I saw you without Mercury right behind. Just like me’n Ren. And the way you fought for Cinder…” Nora smiles a sad, private little smile. “You don’t fight like that unless it’s personal; unless someone means something to you. Just like me’n Ren. And now you’re here. All on your own. And you didn’t have to be. That’s—don’t you think that’s crazy brave? I sure do.”

Of course she fucking doesn’t. Crazy brave would have been walking away the first, tenth, hundredth time she had a flash of panic about what she was doing. Or, better yet, doing something about it. Crazy brave is taking thirty thousand volts to get to your friends; it’s flooding your veins with pure crystalline power and saying Go, I’m doing what Gretchen would have done, it’s—

She closes that door.

“It’s not like I really had a choice,” she sighs, dodging the question.

“Oh, you know that’s not true,” Nora scoffs dismissively, tilting sideways to nudge Emerald with her shoulder.

And Emerald jolts, because—look, it’s not like no one touches her. They have to manhandle each other all the time in battle, and… and Oscar gives her high fives sometimes, which makes her embarrassingly pleased. But what Nora’s offering now, that kind of buddy-buddy casual contact…

… it’s been a while, is all.

“So, why did you want to talk to me?” Emerald asks, overwhelmed and suddenly desperate to find a way to get this conversation over with. She feels like she’s sprinted five miles; like she’s had the crap kicked out of her and she has to go somewhere to lick her wounds. Too much, too fast.

Nora laughs—a chuffing, cynical noise that doesn’t sound at all like her. “Looking for pointers? See, I’m trying this thing where I do things on my own, but I just—I suck at it. Like today; you saw. Even when I’m not with Ren, all I do is… is act exactly the same way I do when I’m with Ren. Like I literally don’t know how to exist without him, whether he’s actually there or not. And I know that’s not fair to anyone; I didn’t mean to treat you like—” She shakes her head, biting her lip. “You’re not just some stand-in. It’s not you at all. I’m just—broken, or something. One trick pony.”

“No, hey—”

“But you figured it out,” she barrels on, which is good, because Emerald doesn’t actually have a clue what she would have said there. “You don’t have anyone and somehow you’re just, like—good to go!” Nora says it cheerily, like it’s a compliment, but has the grace to balk a little when she hears how it sounds. “…sorry. That’s—sorry.”

Emerald shrugs, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin there. She feels like an idiot; building it up for weeks like spending time with Nora would solve all her problems when, surprise surprise, Nora’s just as fucked up as she is.

“Hate to disappoint you, but I don’t have any hot tips,” she mutters into the crooks of her elbows. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. Like—you want to know the really sad part? I was just following your lead.”

“My…?” Nora can’t even finish repeating it, which: Emerald can’t blame her. It’s so dumb. “Huh?”

“Come on. You know.”

“I don’t,” Nora says, voice thick with exhaustion. Like she’s sick of herself. “Ask anyone—I’m not the brains of the operation.”

Hearing Nora talk about herself that way makes Emerald’s chest feel tight; like her ribs have locked in place so her lungs can’t expand. She doesn’t know how to explain it; not without sounding like a starry-eyed fangirl or a moron with a crush and that’s not what this—it’s only that—

She chooses to start a different way.

“You wanna know why I switched sides? Like, really why?”

Nora softens, and reaches out to touch the back of Emerald’s left hand, where it dangles over her knee. “Sure,” she says, but Emerald barely hears it; it’s taking all of her concentration not to clench her fist or pull away in response.

“I overheard Oscar—or, Ozpin, I guess, I don’t know—talking to Hazel about Salem, about her goals. And… listen. No one joins under Salem because they’re trying to kill the world, okay? I mean, no one but Tyrian, anyway. We were all just trying to… find ways to get by. And when Cinder found me, she—” Emerald swallows, hard. This cuts too deep, too close. It’s not something she can just say. “I wasn’t trying to be some big villain, or something. I was just—looking out for the people who were looking out for me. And why wouldn’t I? No one else ever seemed to think I was worth it.”

“Of course you are,” Nora cuts in, quiet but vehement. “Everyone is.”

“See, the worst part is that you mean that when you say it,” Emerald grumbles, scrubbing at her face until smears of color kaleidoscope behind her closed eyes. “I figured people like you didn’t exist, and then Cinder and Merc were glad to prove me right, and—I let them. You know? And maybe if I’d just held out a little longer…”

“You’re not the only one here who’s ashamed of her past. Harriet tried to blow up Mantle, like, a month ago.”

“That’s not—forget that. I’m talking about you. Nora.” It’s the first time she’s ever said her name like that—addressing her, in conversation. It feels… astonishingly intimate, for so small a thing. Emerald powers past it. “Every day, I see you do something ridiculous, like double back on a patrol because you forgot you promised some kid a candy bar, or something, and that—matters. To me. It’s so stupid, but it’s not, because… argh! I want—it’s—” She tries to get her mouth to form the words, that’s the kind of person I want to be, but they stop in her throat.

Still, Nora seems to get the message. Her eyes seem suspiciously shiny for a moment—but when she blinks, it’s gone. “I… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Emerald grumbles. Saying it like she means it: seriously. Don’t mention it.

“I understand what you mean, though. For years, the only person who looked out for me was Ren. And if he’d said…” Nora trails off, then, cocking her head to the side as she works through something. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing, just. I remembered something. I was about to say that if Ren told me the only way for us to get by was a life of crime, or something, I would’ve taken his word for it, but—the opposite happened. We decided to enroll at Beacon. And that wasn’t his idea; it was mine. I always wanted to be a Huntress. To… to be the one strong enough to help people, instead of always needing the help. He wasn’t sure if we would make it, but I was. We were together, right? How could we lose?” She chuckles, a little, shaking her head at herself. “Get a load of that. He followed me.”

They smile at each other, then. Like they’ve figured out something profound. Maybe Nora has; Emerald hopes so.

“I’m glad you’re here, Emerald,” Nora says, and—there it is again. The frisson of electricity that comes with being referred to by name.

Of course, then Emerald ruins it by blurting out:

“Of course you are, all your other friends are dead.”

Which—“Fuck!” she sputters, because she didn’t mean to say that. What is wrong with her? “Sorry! Sorry.”

Nora only grins at her, feral and incisive. “Yeah, well. Yours are evil, so. Pick your poison. At least I’m proud of mine.”

Touché.

“Still glad I’m here?” Emerald jeers, because her first instinct is still to press on the bruise to see how much it hurts.

Nora laughs, and gets to her feet. “Believe it or not, yes. If putting your foot in your mouth was all it took to get booted from Hero Club, I’d have been kicked out a long time ago.” She reaches down to offer Emerald a hand; Emerald takes it, letting Nora pull her to standing. “Now go and get some rest, huh? None of us can ever sleep when you’re up here thinking so loud.”

“That an order?”

“Advice. Friends give it, from time to time.”

And—yeah. Maybe they do. 

[capt-spooki3]

...And Sunrises Were Worse

A sequel to Sunsets Never Felt The Same...

Pairing: Revivebur and Reader

Warnings: blood mentions, fighting, angsty feelings, kissing, manipulativebur

Y/n was finally recovering after the unfortunate demise of their lover just to find, he is back and better than ever...

3.6k words

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Y/n watched him from afar, arms open wide as he took in the rays from the rising sun.

“This is my sunrise..”

Hearing the words from him sent chills through their whole body. Watching him stand there, alive and grinning like a mad man, made them sick. Whether it was from shock, disbelief, or anger they weren’t sure yet.

It had been nine whole years that he had been gone and the only piece of him left was his ghost. Ghostbur was a comforting presence, but it just took so much for them not to try and question Ghostbur on why he left them. Not only did his ghost not remember them, but they learned quickly that he had no memory of his past mistakes.

They never expected his lonely soul to be so innocent and sweet, especially after seeing face to face how far he had fallen once he lost his darling country. That last glimpse of him they got, shook them to their core and took years to recover from. Though honestly, it never fully left them. They were ready to move on and look for love in someone that wasn’t six feet under. But there stood their former lover, watching as Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo walked away from him with Friend following close behind. He was smiling in a manic way, looking the exact same way he did when he kissed them and ran off to face his demise but this time there was something different that they just couldn’t place their finger on. Maybe it was that this time, he had a will and a want to be alive.

Y/n shook their head, letting a shiver run down their spine as they turned and started to walk away, not wanting to look at him anymore and hoping that they would just be able to forget he had come back to life.

“My dearest sunflower... “ They stopped in their tracks as they heard the voice say softly, just loud enough for his words to reach them. They held their breath, hoping to hear him speak again or not at all, while a cold sweat went down their back. Everything stood quiet like the world was holding its breath along with Y/n.

“Don’t ignore me now, love. Please, turn and look at me. I want to see your face again, it’s been too long.”

“What the hell are you doing here- yOU WERE GONE WILBUR! YOU WERE GONE! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO STAY GONE!” They balled up their fists and squeezed their eyes tight to try and not let the tears slip through. Emotions that have been kept under wraps for years were finally coming forth to plague their mind. All from hearing his sugar-coated voice again, but they knew all that laid under the tooth-rotting exterior anymore was pure venom.

“Y/n… please don’t be upset. I’m back. I’m here, I can make things better than ever.” His voice was growing closer and was only unraveling them farther.

“NO! Wilbur stop- stop moving. Don’t come closer.” They pleaded, voice growing frail as tears were trying harder to run free. “Please…”

“Listen to me at least, darling.”

“No. I won’t.

“Y/n.” He sounded like he was warning them to comply. A big red waving flag telling them that even in death, he hasn’t changed.

“I’m leaving, and once I’m gone. So are you.” They started walking down the small mound of rubble they were watching him from as soon as they finished their sentence and picking up the pace as soon as their feet hit the glass that kept them from falling into the crater of L’manburg.

“Y/N!!” Wilbur called out to them desperately. “H-Hold on, just wait!” But they didn’t stop, they didn’t even look back and just kept their eyes on the swirling vines that tainted the space below them.

Harsh footsteps rang out on the glass, they sounded like boots as they clicked nicely. Suddenly they were pulled back when a hand grabbed onto their arm to stop them, Wilbur took small gasps as he caught his slightly extended breaths. Y/n looked back at him and finally looked him in the eyes again after nine years. His mouth hung open just a little as he steadied his breathing. Dirt was smudged on one cheek while a bit of blood was dried on the other and a long past dried bloody nose. He looked tired too, very apparent bags were under his eyes now though his glasses sat perfect and untouched on his nose. The red in his eyes was so easy to see and up close made it even more unsettling especially as he looked at them so fondly and softly like he never stopped loving them even in death.

“Don’t leave me, please.” He whispered, pulling them just a bit closer, looking like a puppy pleading for their owner not to go to work.

“Wilbur. It has been nine years. Nine years you’ve been gone, nine years tha-”

“Thirteen years!” He leaned forward just lightly as he emphasized the number. Y/n stopped and just looked at him, confused by him one upping them.

“What?”

“I have been in limbo for thirteen years Y/n. An empty train station. No exit. No one else there to help. I screamed and clawed at the walls. I was stuck there for so, so long. But I never forgot you. I missed you so much.” Wilbur finally let their arm go and let his arm fall back to his side, looking defeated. “I can’t tell you how many times I relived memories of you just to make me feel something again. Like… remember our sunset?” He looked down through the glass floor, smiling sweetly as he was obviously thinking back on the time. But Y/n simply looked at him in disbelief and almost disgust that he was thinking of them.

“Do you even realize how much it hurts? The things you told me before you went and got yourself killed? I held onto that for so many years, Wilbur.” He fixed his gaze back on them, his smile having been lost as soon as they started talking. “I was so ready to be healed from you and pursue love. Just… be happy. I haven’t forgotten you, but that’s because you hurt me so.. so bad.”

They let out a shuddering breath and took a few steps back from him to which he started to reach for them but stopped himself, lowering his hands to his sides and dropping his shoulders.

“I’m leaving. And I need you to let me leave and forget I was ever here.” They demanded once and for all before turning sharply and walking away from him.

“CAN YOU… can you stay. For just… for just a bit. Till sunset. Let me stay with you.” Y/n slowed to a stop when hearing his sad request. “Sunset can be the limit and you can bring me back here and I won’t follow you. Please just… Can you give me this?”

They sighed deeply, their addiction to his voice returning much faster than they hoped it would. They started to move again but not before calling back to him.

“Well come on then. I told myself I’d sort the books at the library today.” Y/n knew they didn’t need to wait for him because a few paces in and he had caught up to their side, hands in his pocket as he took smaller strides by their side.

“You finally built the library you always talked about?” Wilbur asked fondly, they could feel the constant glances he was throwing their way, and frankly, it took a lot of effort not to look back at him.

“Actually Foolish did it for me, I commissioned him. It looks really good too, almost everyone frequents it. I’ve even gotten Techno and Phil to drop by a good number of times.” They found their way onto the Prime Path as it made the walk to the library the easiest amongst all the rugged land.

“Yeah? I bet that Ranboo guy is there a lot, he looks like a bookworm.”

“He stops by quite a bit, yeah... Ghostbur was always there though.” They said as their voice grew softer. “Unless he was traveling around or visiting others to spread his blue, he was sitting there with Friend and reading.”

Wilbur didn’t try to make any comment after that and Y/n had to give him that. At least he still knows when it was best to shut up and bear the silence.

The rest of their walk remained rather quiet other than little comments here and there and Wilbur requested a quick walk by the museum once he saw it. Even though they could have cared less about what he wanted, Y/n agreed to walk by it since it wouldn’t set them off their path too much. They couldn’t help but admire him as he was now, they always thought Ghostbur was the actual soul AND mind of Wilbur with just amnesia. After being around him for so long, they got the urge to explain events to him whenever he would mention them, just to be reminded that he was there and remembered it all.

-

“Oh, so this must be the library ey?” Wilbur said excitedly as he stared at the two-story building and nodded in approval. “Gotta tell that Foolish guy he did a good job.”

Y/n laughed a little and went in with Wilbur close behind and quietly observing the interior.

“Go ahead and do whatever you want, I’ll be… kinda everywhere do just call if you need anything okay?” They glanced back to him to see his eyes already on them, smiling softly before he nodded.

“I can help too if you need it.”

“Uh- no. No, I’ll be fine, thank you.” They said quickly before rushing to start upstairs and get some distance between him, still not all that comfortable being so close to a man that was dead mere hours ago. They knelt down to a bookshelf and went on autopilot while they sorted through and put books in the right order.

It was so hard for their mind to fully process that he was revived. They overheard Tommy when he met up with Tubbo and Ranboo so they heard the whole story and followed behind secretly. They watched from afar when they found Wilbur but sadly didn’t hear most of what he had to say out of pure shock that he was standing right there without a sword through his chest. As much as they wanted to completely forget about his existence, They doubted they would be able to get rid of him now. All they could hope is that he would keep his distance and not be kind enough to make them fall in love with him all over again.

Hours passed by in minutes for them and they were finished with the top floor of books and went downstairs to find Wilbur standing there with obviously freshly baked bread, contemplating walking up the stairs.

“Y/n! Sorry um… here.” He offered the small loaf to them, he didn’t have his gloves on anymore and his hands were cleaned. “You’ve been working hard, but you need to take care of yourself.”

They took the bread from him carefully, taking a piece and trying to find it surprisingly good. He must have gotten it from the bakery.

“Thank you, Wilbur…. You eat too.” They took their leave into the rows of bookshelves to distance themself and eat near one of the back windows.

Things weren’t looking good for them at this rate.

-

“Alright Wilbur, got all your things? I’ve got to walk you back then go home.”

Wilbur hopped up from the chair he was sitting in, pulling his gloves out of his pockets and slipping them both on before adjusting his coat.

“Yep, all ready. Lead the way.”

And lead they did, though this time they took the more remote path down to his shrine. They took the path that Phil and his group used when they were first trying to revive Wilbur by using Ghostbur. It was calmer and it let Wilbur see other parts of the nearby area that he didn’t before.

“You know… Y/n. Have you ever been down here at night?” Wilbur asked as they were nearing the shrine.

“Huh? Oh, no I haven’t. Not since… you know.” They cast a quick glance to their side at him. “It doesn’t bring back the best memories so I try to avoid it.”

“Right, right, that makes sense.” He went quiet, but it was obvious he wanted to add on and most likely ask them something.

“Why?”

“Well, I saw them earlier and thought they looked rather nice. Did you see the floating lanterns? There were just a few, but they stood out to me among all the destroyed land.” He took a breath and looked over at them until they met his eyes. “I wanted to ask you if you could stay and look at them with me.”

Y/n just looked at him, expressionless and not saying a word.

“Look, the sun is literally already setting. Just for a few minutes, please? We can uh- we can stand on the other side of the shrine and look at them. Okay?” He looked up at the sunset before it was hidden by the land. “Just before you leave.”

“Just before I leave.” They softly echoed him and got a rushed thank you as he picked his pace up now.

They finally reached the stone steps that led to the shrine and Wilbur happily took the lead, walking to the backside of the shrine to lean up against the lapis wall. Y/n fell back against it and sighed, closing their eyes and being thankful for a moment to rest. They opened their eyes and looked up at the lanterns floating nearby, glowing brightly against the land now that the sun was set. They let themself slip away while watching the calming float of the lanterns.

Feeling eyes on them, they looked over to Wilbur. He didn’t even try to look away, just looking at them with a distant gaze and hands resting in his pockets. He looked numb as he silently watched despite the soft rosy look of his cheeks. There was something there they could only describe as numb and lovesick. As odd as it sounds, it fits.

“Wilbur-”

“Shh just let me… you look too lovely right now.”

They felt the heat rising to their face as much as they hated to feel it with him. It felt too right to hear it from him again and their mind pushed them to beg him to say those words again.

“I… I need to go home.” Y/n whispered to him, not even sure if that’s what they wanted anymore.

“I know, but darling I’m selfish.” He spoke softly to match their tone. They looked away to let out their held breath and contemplate what they were supposed to do. With a deep and grounding breath, they looked back at him. As much as they were ready to tell him they were leaving him here alone, him giving obvious glances to their lips just stopped them from being able to go forward with it.

With a soft bite of his lip, he tore his gaze away and sighed as looked up at the star-speckled sky, resting his head back. They were frozen now, admiring him this time. They swore they wouldn’t fall again but look at them now, ready to throw caution to the wind.

And they did.

Y/n closed the distance between them willingly for the first time that day and grabbed onto the arm of his jacket to get his attention, just above the L’mamburg flag patch that was covered with old dirt and blood. He looked down at them with wide eyes, very obviously surprised to see them so close.

“Are you… okay?”

“I-... I don’t know.” They admitted, meaning it completely. Wanting any of him now felt wrong but with someone as addicting and beautiful as him, what were they to do? “I want to leave… but I can’t.”

Wilbur snickered, bringing a gloved hand up to rub their cheek softly.

“Can’t or don’t want to?”

They opened their mouth to answer but were just met with blank thoughts, knowing he was right.

They just stood there, looking at each other and neither one making any advancements or turning away to end it.

“If I… Wilbur, if I kiss you right now, what will you do?”

“Well, Y/n I might just not be able to let you go. So if you want to leave and never see me again, then go. I won’t stop you. But sunshine, if you kiss me right now I won’t be able to keep myself away.” He opened his hand up to put it fully on their cheek, holding them as though this contact meant the world to him. They leaned into his hand just a little, not breaking eye contact.

They thought hard about if this was really a good idea. They still had the time to back out if they wanted to, it wasn’t too late for them to keep him out of their life forever and not try to get to know him all over again.

It was a good idea to leave. The best and smartest idea even, but even still they chose the latter.

“You’re an evil man, Wilbur Soot.” They muttered before grabbing onto the collar of his jacket, pulling his face down to theirs, and kissing him hard, making both of them stumble a bit by Wilbur being off balance. His hands found their way back to their cheeks immediately though, holding them so softly. He pulled them closer, not seeming to want to give this moment a chance to leave. Y/n pulled away finally to catch their breath, they couldn’t help but look at his eyes just to find that he was crying. He was smiling as well though. The sight made tears prick their own eyes though they blinked hard to try and hold them back. Before, seeing him in tears never failed to make them cry. They could never figure out why but it still held true.

"Why are you crying, you idiot? '' They mumbled just before he put his forehead to theirs and closed his eyes, taking in a deep yet shaky breath.

"You’re finally back in my arms… after so long of wishing for you.” He pulled their face to him to kiss them again and laugh softly. “It’s just crazy.”

He leaned back when he slid his hands off their cheeks, but not before running his hand through their hair and sighing as he looked at them. “Y/n… I need you to listen to me, okay?” He still spoke sweetly, but something seemed to lay underneath the surface of this and this time they could tell.

“Okay… but I don’t know if I can trust what you are going to say.”

“No no love! Please,” He reached down to grab and hold both of their hands close to his chest as he looked into their eyes. “You can trust me. You can. I just… I have things I need to do now that I’m back. And these things, I know some people aren’t going to agree with, but no matter what happens. As long as you stay on my side, I can promise you the world.”

Wilbur leaned in close to them, voice growing quiet now but the small smile he bore looked sinister. “I can promise you the world because I am going to capture the world in my hands. And as long as you’re mine, it will be yours as well.” He stroked their hands with his thumbs comfortingly as if to smooth over the words he just told them.

“Wilbur… I have friends. People I think of as family and if you end up hurting them I…” They trailed off, looking away from him and at the rubble of L’manburg and reflecting on what happened the last time he had a great goal in mind.

“That’s perfect! No, that is just perfect Y/n!” He let go of them, eyes wide along with his smile. “You have time. Think it over sunflower, I will give you time.”

He easily slipped past them and took a few strides away. Y/n turned to look at him, their mind in a hopeless scramble of pieces. The two sides of their mind battled on if they should tell him off or blindly trust him. He looked back at them, glancing away again before he walked up to them and gently lifted their chin to get a good look at him.

Memories flooded back to them with the familiar look he gave them. As much as they wished it could be a positive moment, all they saw was the man who grabbed them and kissed them as he said his adrenaline-filled goodbye. The only difference now was he wasn’t ready to die, but looked more than ready to cause any other kind of damage.

“You really are beautiful… I hope you choose me.” He held their chin and rubbed his thumb over their bottom lip before kissing them again, longer and sweeter this time before he spoke against their lips. “Find me when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting for you.”

___________________________________________

While you're here...

pss pss psss 👁👄👁 i made art for it too

[minor-solemnity]

hi i love your work and am excited for your series. i was wondering if you can do a one shot where the reader comforts tom and let’s him fall asleep on her while she plays with her hair 😩 soft tom 😈

Yesssss! Soft Tom - I cannot resist! This may have gotten away from me a bit so I hope you enjoy 2.6k of fluffy comfort!

Tag List: @jinxqsu @naps-and-lemons @riddles-wifey @mainlynonsense @cakesarecute @crumpets-are-better-with-jam

What Equates to Worship

The door to your bedroom is open and you roll your eyes when you peer inside and find the source of your broken wards slumped in the armchair next to your bed. Tom’s best robes are in a heap at the foot of the bed, his smartest brogues are kicked into the furthest corner of the room, his hair - usually so neat - is disarray. He looks like the world’s most harangued man. “Good evening, my love,” You murmur as you make your way over to his side, kneeling on the floor so that you can take hold of his hands which are resting loosely in his lap. “You broke my wards again.”

It’s late when you get home. There is a Very Important Case being tried in the Wizengamot and your boss, Gerald Montague, is running you ragged in an attempt to get the edge on the prosecution. It’s a nasty case, the defendant, Mr Vickers, is on trial for the kidnapping and murders of five women. His chances aren’t looking good - there is enough physical evidence to bury him and his alibi is flimsy at best. In private, both you and Montague are convinced of his guilt but that doesn’t matter when it’s your job to convince the Wizengamot and a jury of his innocence. Needless to say, it’s not been an easy couple of weeks.

Your shoes click against the uneven cobblestones as you make your way down the narrow road to your flat situated just off the main drag of Knockturn Alley. It’s not the best part of town, but the flat itself is double the size of what you would be able to afford if you lived somewhere more reputable. Besides, it’s not as though you’ve ever been scared by the less savoury parts of humanity and society - you’d be awful at your job if that were the case. You throw a couple of sickles to the hag that operates outside your building, and she promises you glory in the afterlife in thanks. “If you could promise me glory when I’m alive, I think I’d find that more useful,” You say as you fumble with your keys.

She laughs, “That will cost you more than a few sickles, love, try again tomorrow.” You chuckle and shrug a shoulder. It was worth try at least. The gas lamps that lead the way up the winding stairs to your attic flat are already lit, casting a dim, flicking light across the stairwell. You frown slightly as you make your way up the stairs; no one usually lights the lamps, leaving it up to you to light them when you return from the Ministry every day. Your curiosity is further piqued when you reach your front door and find it glowing a dim red, indicating that someone has broken through the wards. You have an idea of who it is, but you take your wand out just in case you’re mistaken. You have a few files from the Very Important Case hidden in the depths of your bedroom, which in the wrong hands, would be disastrous for you and Montague.

The inside of your flat is dark and cold and looks just as you’d left it this morning. With a sigh, you flick your wand at the fire and smile as flames begin to flicker and burn. Your flat is relatively spacious, but the fireplace is enchanted to spread the warmth further than a normal fire would and with any luck you’ll be toasty and warm within a few minutes. You shrug out of your travelling robes and kick off your heels, rubbing your aching feet with relish. Next on your list of things to do is figure out who has broken into your flat and if it's something you should be concerned about.

You pad through the flat, your stockinged feet making no noise against the polished wooden floorboards. The door to your bedroom is open and you roll your eyes when you peer inside and find the source of your broken wards slumped in the armchair next to your bed. Tom’s best robes are in a heap at the foot of the bed, his smartest brogues are kicked into the furthest corner of the room, his hair - usually so neat - is in disarray. He looks like the world’s most harangued man. “Good evening, my love,” You murmur as you make your way over to his side, kneeling on the floor so that you can take hold of his hands which are resting loosely in his lap. “You broke my wards again.”

He makes a small sound in the back of his throat which is honestly pitiful and you are struck by a burning desire to make whoever put him in such a state pay for their crimes. Tom should never look so downtrodden - it doesn’t suit him in the slightest. You rub soft circles against his palms, smoothing the tension out of his fingers with careful strokes as the quiet of your flat weaves a gentle spell of calm and soothing around the two of you. “Is it a good evening?” He mutters and when you look up at his face, you can see the hard lines of annoyance and defeat marring his forehead.

“Hmm, don’t frown, darling - you’ll ruin your pretty face.” This at least gets a small hum of amusement out of him which you count as a win. Heaven knows that when Tom gets in these moods it can take a lot more than gentle touches and murmured sweet-nothings to get him to smile. You rise from your position and move behind the armchair, resting your cheek on the crown on his head and your hands on his shoulders to kneed at his knotted muscles. “I assume that you didn’t get the job?”

You’ve been so busy with your own work that you’d forgotten that Tom’s interview with Dumbledore was today. If you had remembered you would have taken the day off because even the most optimistic person would have known there was a fool’s chance of Tom getting the Defence job. Despite everything though, Tom is an optimist. You would never have guessed it when you first got to know him, but underneath his taciturn facade is a terribly hopeful young man who still believes that things will turn out in his favour. His idealism is part of what you love about him if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s a good contrast to your cynical realism.

It’s ridiculous, of course. Tom, despite his young age, is the most qualified person you can think of for the position. He knows more about Defensive magic than anyone save for maybe Dumbledore himself, and beyond that, he has the right temperament for it. It comes as a surprise to most people who meet him that Tom would be a good teacher, but he really is. His love of Hogwarts, defensive magic, and his desire to impart that knowledge all adds up to someone who sees struggling students and wants them to succeed. If it had been anyone other than Dumbledore, he would have been a shoo-in for the role.

“You assume correctly.” His voice is still tight and muted with resigned anger, but he begins to loosen under your hands, his head lolling to the side and coming to rest against your forearm.

“Did he give you a reason why?”

Tom sighs and the sound is world-weary and destitute. At that moment, your hatred for Dumbledore intensifies. “He never intended on giving me a chance. He invited me in and lectured me about dark magic. He essentially said that as long as he was Headmaster I would not be welcome in the castle.” The worst thing is that Tom sounds so forlorn. Unlike you, who had decided after a year at Hogwarts that the only thing you wanted to do was leave, Tom’s fondness for the school is unparalleled. “Knowing him, that won’t be for another hundred years or so.”

“I’m so sorry, Tom,” You say, dropping a kiss into the dark curls of his hair. “He’s an old coot. Still so struck by the mythology of his own genius that he can’t see past his own prejudices.” He hums lowly in response and eventually, you feel him start to relax. It’s gratifying to know that it’s you over anyone else, that he comes to when he needs support. You know his friends and followers would do anything to gain his favour, but at the end of the day, he doesn’t seek them out. No, he doesn’t trust them to see him like this, to see him in his more human moments of vulnerability. He trusts you to understand him and comfort him. That in itself is a gift.

“Now, come on. We can worry about Dumbledore later, but right now, let me find us something to eat.” Food, in your opinion, can go a long way to right a lot of wrongs and you have a sneaking suspicion that Tom probably hasn’t eaten all day. He’s annoying like that, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to care about silly little things like eating and taking care of oneself. You can’t help but chuckle softly as he mumbles something under his breath and reaches for your hands to hold you in place. “Later, my love. I promise,” You say and disentangles yourself from his grasp.

Tom follows you out of the bedroom and watches you with a look of exasperated amusement as you search your kitchen. Your cupboards are sinfully bare when you go to inspect them, the rush of the last two weeks has meant that you’ve neglected a lot of your more basic chores. “And you accuse me of neglecting my needs. You hardly set a good example, my dear.” He murmurs from where he’s lounging against the stove. You roll your eyes as you shove your feet back into your heels and head for the door.

“Veeraswamy?” You ask and have to hide your smile when Tom’s eyes light up. It’s not often that the two of you treat yourselves to restaurant-quality food as neither of your jobs’ salaries really allow the indulgence, however, tonight, you think an exception is called for. “Feel free to look over the files I brought home - maybe you’ll notice something I missed.” You don’t even finish your sentence before Tom is digging through your work bag and pulling out the offending files. Typical, you think fondly. Tom is as curious as a cat and one of the easiest ways of making him feel better about anything is to introduce him to a puzzle.

Fifteen minutes later you apparate home with a brown paper bag of Veeraswamy’s finest selection of curries and sweet treats. As a rule, they’re dine-in only, as many of the restaurants in muggle London are, however, you’re not above a confundus charm to get what you want and you always make sure to tip splendidly to offset any guilt you feel for taking advantage. When you get in, Tom has the case files splayed out on the small kitchen table and you spare yourself a moment to admire the elegant curve of his neck and the way his curls fall in graceful arcs across his brow. Without looking up, he makes a space for you to drop the bag of goodies on the table and you collect plates and the bottle of wine that is the only thing you already had in your flat.

You discuss the Very Important Case over dinner and he indulges in your complaints about Montague’s refusal to even consider your line of defence. “Vickers says that he went to a Seer and was told that these women would die by his hand. I want to make the case that he can’t be fully held accountable for the murders if it’s already foretold.” Never mind that that isn’t how prophecies or fortune work, no one in the Wizengamot understands the intricacies of Divination well enough to know that just because something is said, doesn’t mean it will come to pass. “Montague is convinced that we can prove his innocence without resorting to asking for lesser charges.”

“And he’ll lose the case because of it.” He hums, sets his fork down and reaches for your hand, his long fingers looping around your wrist. “Have you considered the fact that Vickers may have been compromised? The file says that when he was found, Vickers was abnormally placid and made no attempts to hide the evidence that would have been easily disposed of? Maybe hire a mind-healer and see if he’s been the victim of an imperius curse,” He says nonchalantly as though he hasn’t just dropped the biggest break in the case in your lap.

“Tom. Tom, you are a genius. How did you even begin to come to that conclusion?” He must hear the wonder in your voice because a small, self-satisfied smile curves his upper lip and he leans over the table to press a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips.

“These things are obvious if you know what you’re looking for.” The knowing in his voice hints at something darker and your eyes narrow slightly. Tom’s proclivity for the dark arts is no secret, neither is his cunning and ruthlessness. You don’t ask and he doesn’t tell, but you suppose it’s probably a good thing that you’re training to become a defence lawyer. Maybe one day he’ll need one.

Tonight is not the night for those kinds of thoughts though. You doubt any night will be - if ever there comes a day when you have to reckon with Tom’s less savoury pursuits, you already know where your allegiances lie. With a soft hum of acknowledgement, you stand and lead him to the bedroom. “Enough maudlin talk for tonight, I think,” You say as you settle against the headboard and motion for him to join you. “You must be tired after today.”

Even though he tries to hide it, you can see that the day has worn on him. Shadows form like ink stains underneath his eyes, and he holds himself with a kind of forlorn regret that fills you with a feeling of sympathetic sorrow. He crawls up the bed and raises an eyebrow when you don’t move to make room for him. Instead, you simply lift an arm and smile, sleepiness and tenderness mingling into something soft in your eyes. After a few second of internal debate where Tom looks from you to the spot you’ve made for him, he gingerly lowers himself against you, his head resting in the hollow where your shoulder meets your neck. He lies unnaturally still and tense in the way a feral kitten might react to the kindness of a stranger.

Honestly, it’s more than a little heartbreaking. Slowly - carefully - you rest one hand over his heart and begin to card your other through his hair. You’re not entirely sure how he manages it - you’ve never seen a haircare potion in his vicinity - but Tom has the softest hair of anyone you’ve met. It’s dreadfully unfair, really. You rub gentle circles against his scalp and smile softly in the dim light as you feel him relax against you, the long hard lines of his body soften as you continue your gentle ministrations. Gradually, you sense him ease into a contented state as he seeks clemency from the day in your touch.

That you can do this for him, that you can be this for him is not something you would have ever thought possible. You remember vividly the uptight rigidity with which he had held himself throughout your time at school. The fervent dedication he had channelled to reach the top of the pecking order, never allowing himself a moment of softness or reprieve. You’re certain that if he’s not careful he will burn himself out before he’s had a chance to truly shine, and you know just how brightly he could if given the chance.

You brush his hair from his eyes and lazily draw abstract patterns against his chest, feeling the way his breathing deepens as sleep overtakes him. In this moment of calm, sleepy repose, you feel your heart expand with all love and care you think you might ever feel, and you brush a soft kiss to the crown of his head, revelling in the almost breathy sigh that escapes him. “You’re far too good to me,” He mumbles, half asleep and entirely too sincere.

“Agree to disagree, my love. I am exactly as good to you as you deserve.” He chuckles at this, nestling deeper into your side and flinging an arm across your waist. “Now, sleep - we have so much time for everything else.”

AN: Also before anyone accuses me of anachronisms, Veeraswamy is London’s oldest Indian restaurant. It was opened in 1926 and I’ve been there once before - the food was so so so good and it was disgustingly expensive. I’m assuming that it wasn’t that pricey in the 40’s

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter four

Chapter Four

summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers, library smut, oral (female receiving) lots and lots of fluff

word count: 3.9k

from the beginning <3

Everyone at work was very understanding. Almost all of them saw it coming, he was taking more sick days than normal and he wasn’t putting up a fight anymore when the 30 days was required to take rolled around. They were profilers after all.

He arrives on Thursday morning to pack his desk. The team is finally home and all together to wish him well on his future journey, giving him hugs and kisses as they each visited his desk.

They had already replaced him, Will LaMontagne was giving the FBI a shot, finally. Spending more time with JJ, the kids were old enough now to accept both of them working. And Kate Callahan was back, now that her baby wasn’t a baby anymore either.

Even Penelope and Derek showed up, bringing a cake that said ‘happy retirement’ written across the frosting. They were happy for him, they shared the same excitement he had. There was a thrill in his eyes again as they asked him about his plans.

“Tell us about this Y/N you met,” Emily cut into the laughter to get to the serious topics.

“I’ve been going to the park a lot recently and I found this little reading nook by a pond. She was there with her daughter and they invited me over to their picnic,” he realized how fake it all sounded as he continued to speak. “Her daughter is wonderful and super smart, I took them to the Smithsonian on Sunday and I’m completely smitten.”

Everyone swooned, happy to see him finally finding someone that makes him gush like this. It had been a very, very long time since Spencer has told any of them about a person, let alone someone he was in love with.

“She is wonderful,” Penelope added, “she makes the best tea and she lives in a literal Disney movie.”

Spencer laughed, “yeah she does. They probably read more books than I have, they make so many references all the time and they even dress up for what they’re reading, it’s amazing.”

They were amazed by how giddy he was, unable to stop smiling at him, “here we dressed up for the museum, I was milo from Atlantis and she was the old man in Tarzan,” he pulled his phone from his pocket to show them the photo.

It was his background now, Y/N sent it to him when he finally went back to his place Monday night, knowing he’d miss them. Not wanting him to be alone.

He was beyond proud to show them the photo, beaming from ear to ear as they all complimented his attire.

“She looks like you,” Kate added, “must be the genius gene,” she added, making awkward eye contact with JJ as they both clocked it.

“She’s exactly like me, that’s why Y/N likes having me around, it’s good for Amoreena to feel normal with the way our brains work,” he spoke about her like she was his own. Forever grateful to have her in his life.

“So when are you proposing?” Matt teased him. Knowing the feeling of love like this all too well with his perfect wife and a handful of children.

“I’m not trying to jinx anything,” Spencer admitted. “I actually have a job interview at the Library she works at later, so I’ll be around here a lot more.”

“He’ll be moved in by the end of the month,” Tara smiled, proud of him and the courage it takes to follow your heart.

“I’m going to miss you guys,” he presses his lips together softly, nodding as he avoids eye contact with them. “But you can call me whenever you need my brain, I guess.”

Hugs were exchanged as Spencer had to leave, Derek even offered to drive him back to his apartment to help with 4 boxes of books from his desk, and to have a bit of a talk like they always do.

“It’s surprisingly easy to be a dad, all you have to do is be there and love them,” Derek shared a tidbit of advice

“She told me she doesn’t mind me being like Amoreena’s dad, but I don’t think I can yet. I want her to decide when she wants me in that role.”

Spencer explains his feelings the easiest to Derek. Like he was already in his mind and knew the thoughts before he said them, Derek was never mad or disappointed in him. He loved him fully, and Spencer loved him right back.

“Like when you chose Gideon?”

Spencer can only nod, it’s still too sad to think about him being gone. “You know what it’s like, you love your father but there are other people in your life who fit the role better.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed. “You’re going to be great, regardless of the name she uses when she thinks of you.”

“Thank you,” Spencer smiled as they pulled up to his apartment, “you should bring Hank to meet the animals this weekend sometime.”

“He’d love that,” Derek smiled back at him, patting his shoulder lightly. “I’m really proud of you.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it if you didn’t first,” he admits. “You’re a strong man who decided to put his happiness first, I can be too.”

“You sure as hell can,” Derek wrapped him up in one last hug before sending him off to live that best life he was talking about.

The only person who didn’t know yet was his mother. He wasn’t sure how to tell her, he knew she’d be proud of him regardless but that anxiety of disappointing her never went away even now that he was 40.

“Spencer!”

“Hey mom,” he smiled when she picked up. “How are you?”

“I’m fantastic, Marge and I are going on a walk later to see some ducks that were born, I really love it here Spencer,” he could hear it in her voice. She was much more joyful when she was surrounded by friends.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“you sound happy, what’s going on?”

She was his mother, after all, she could know exactly how he’s feeling from just hearing him breathe or being in the same room as him. It was like a superpower, she always knew what was going on.

“I met someone,” he can’t help but smile. “And I quit the FBI to have a family.”

“You’re kidding?” He couldn’t read her tone, not sure if she was surprised or disappointed.

“Her name is Y/N, she has a 7-year-old daughter named Amoreena who is exactly like how I was as a child, you’d really like them,” he explains and he can hear his mother's smile from his end of the phone.

“I would love to meet them, you can bring them to visiting hours next Tuesday?” Diana offered, genuinely happy for him in a way that made his heart burst.

“I’ll see if they’re free and I’ll let you know.”

“I love you, Spencer,” she reminded him. “It’s nice to hear you’re happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

“I love you too, thank you, mom, for everything.”

She hangs up before they can get too emotional, leaving Spencer inside his sad little apartment all by himself. Taking the opportunity to pack his overnight bag for Y/N and pick out some books from his collection to show Amoreena.

There’s an envelope sticking out of one of his books that manages to catch his attention, taking it out to see his name written on it in Gideon’s handwriting. He almost forgot he had this, how important the words were.

Spencer,

I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me. I’m sorry the explanation couldn’t be better, Spencer. I’m sorry it doesn’t make more sense, but I’ve already told you. I just don’t understand any of it anymore.

I guess I’m just looking for it again, for the belief I had in college, the belief I had when I first met Sara and it all seemed so right.

The belief in happy endings. When you find that, never let it go, Spencer.

Don’t let this job do to you what it did to me, get out and get a life when you can. I have faith in you, till I see you again, take care, son.

Gideon

He walked over to the window then, seeing a beautiful red and brown bird perched on his fire escape. He couldn’t help but smile, “I found my Sara, thank you,” he whispers to the bird who turns its head to the side before flying off.

Gideon always did have the best timing and the best advice.

—

“Y/N, your one o’clock is here to see you,” the receptionist at the Library said over the phone, hanging up and returning her attention to Spencer, “she’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Doctor Reid,” he hears her voice as she rounds the corner, appearing behind a stack of books in the most beautiful blue dress he’s ever seen. “Lovely to see you again.”

“You too,” he smiles.

“Right this way,” she can’t help but smile as she escorts him to her office.

“I don’t normally consider people who don’t send in a resume, but I have a feeling you’re going to be good at this,” she teased him as he sat at her desk.

“Allison is going on maternity leave in a few weeks, so you won’t start until she has the baby. If you’re serious about wanting this position, it’s only Monday through Thursday, 9 to 2:30.”

“You’re not going to ask me anything?”

“I don’t know if you know this, but the literary historian and I get to spend a lot of time together, I’d rather hire someone I know I already like,” she smiled again. “And it would be nice to see you every day without a 7-year-old taking all your attention away from me.”

“You just want to live out the fantasy of kissing someone in the encyclopedia section, don’t you?” He teased her right back, making her blush. “I knew it.”

“Sue me!” She laughed, and he finally understood what tinker bell meant when she said farries are born from the purest laughter.

He was in love with her right then and there, he was sure of it.

It had been under a week and yet as he stared at her, hearing her wonderful laughter and seeing her beautiful smile, knowing she wanted to spend time with him, that she genuinely liked him and none of this was one-sided, it made him fall harder than he thought he could.

“Come on then,” he stands abruptly, taking her hand and pulling her out the door.

She tries to giggle quietly as she follows him all the way back to the quietest section of the library. Most of the books on the shelves didn’t even have bar codes because they haven’t been checked out since the 60’s, no one needs them but they can’t seem to part with them.

She backs up against the shelf and pulls him into her space, he drops her hands and holds her face instead, looking at her beautiful eyes as they sparkled in the fluorescent lighting.

“I was expecting this to be hungrier than this when I imagined it all for all these years,” she whispers, biting her lip to force her smile back.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful,” is all he can say, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs lightly a few times before finally placing his lips against hers, ever so gently.

Her hands stretched around his back, pulling him in closer till their bodies are pressed together and then she’s kissing him deeper. Breathing in through her nose like she’s trying to keep him there forever, her fingernails dig into his shirt and he knows she wants more.

He slid his thigh between hers, opening his mouth to give her all the access she wanted and letting her take control of the speed. She wasn’t kidding when she said she expected it to be hungrier. She was kissing him like it was the first time she has had contact with another human being in years, and it just might have been. She said she was single for a while before Amoreena, probably the whole time since as well.

“Spencer,” she took a moment to gasp for air, breathing against his lips as he did the same. “Can we?”

He kisses along her jaw then, moving towards her ear to whisper, “do what? Use your words.”

“Anything, just touch me please, god it’s been 12 years,” she begged as quietly as possible, tugging at his hair as he nibbled on her earlobe.

He kissed down her neck making his way towards her chest. Holding her by the hips now, she arched her back into the shelf as he kissed all the way to where her dress started to cover her breasts but he didn’t stop. Kissing over her clothes as he dropped down to his knees in front of her.

He undid his tie, slipping it off his neck and handing it to her, “in case you need to scream into something.”

She held it in her hand for a second, registering what he just said and moaning softly in response as she held it closer to her lips, he took that as a yes and slipped under her dress.

She was wearing just a pair of regular cut pink underwear, not expecting this in the slightest when she got ready this morning. He kissed her over top of the fabric, spreading her legs so that he could kiss the insides of her thighs as she tried to desperately grind into his face. grazing his teeth against her skin as she shivers, thighs shaking in anticipation.

He kisses right where her clit should be under the fabric, knowing he’s correct when she whimpers around the tie he handed her. It's muffled and adorable as he kisses her again and again, knowing she wants more and teasing her gently.

He pulls her panties to the side, mesmerized by how perfect she is for only a second before returning to the task at hand. Being the first person to pleasure her in years, wanting her to have the best time possible.

With one hand he holds her panties back, using his other to slowly swipe a single finger through her folds to see just how wet she was. Smirking against her thigh as he’s able to slip right in.

“Please,” he hears her whisper, lifting the dress up so she could look at what he’s doing.

“Such a good girl for me,” he pressed the words against her skin.

He spreads her legs even further, resting one of them on his shoulder as he dives in, sucking her clit into his mouth abruptly as he pumps his single finger in and out. She jerks her hips at the sudden contact, stuffing the tie in her mouth and biting down as she whimpers.

He knows what he’s doing, where all the pleasure spots are and what feels the best on most women. Searching around and trying different tongue movements, memorizing the sounds she makes and attempting to hear them again and again, knowing it means she’s enjoying herself.

That’s all he wanted, to please her. Not even realizing how hard he was as he continues to eat her out furiously in the back corner of the DC Public Library. He forgets they’re even in public entirely as he moans against her clit, sending shockwaves through her body.

She’s quaking then, holding onto the top of his head with one hand as the other grips a shelf. She’s panting into the material of the tie, the hot breath making its way through the fabric and stopping the whorish moans he knew she’d make. It had been too long since someone treated her right.

He added a second finger then, wanting to push her over the edge as he curled them, finding her g spot and caressing it with every thrust of his fingers. She clenched around him then, a high-pitched noise left her mouth as she finished around him.

He couldn’t help but smirk, re-moving his fingers and cleaning them off in his mouth. Releasing them with a pop before dragging his tongue along her one last time. Gathering up everything she released and placing her panties back over her nicely.

He kissed over her underwear one last time before fixing her dress and standing up, “did I manage to fulfill the dream?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, looking like she was coming down from a real high, not just an orgasm. She pulled him in close and held onto him for dear life as she continued to catch her breath, and then her hand started to wander.

“Nope,” Spencer whispered, moving her hand away from his aching cock. “As much as I want to, I’d rather fuck you at home.”

“Home huh?” She teased him, kissing his cheek softly as she pulled back.

"I love you," he whispers against her ear, without a fear in the world that she didn't feel the same way.

"I love you too, Spencer."

They couldn’t stop smiling at each other, it felt surreal to be this happy. He kissed her a few more times, staying hidden in the back corner until the blood in his body let this dick and went back to where it was supposed to be.

She just held him in her arms, leaning back against the shelves as they kissed softly, running her hands through his hair gently, over and over. She whispered a few thank you’s to him, letting him know it was everything she waited for.

It was truly perfect.

—

Amoreena was so happy to see him back at the farm when she got off the bus, she missed him during the few days he wasn’t there.

She asked him to help with her homework, her teacher assigning them an “all about me” project to showcase their growth at the end of the year ceremony. It was almost June, she only had a few weeks left before she was off for the summer and free to show him around the whole kingdom.

Y/N brought out a box of craft supplies and a collection of photos. Showing Spencer every single moment of her and Amoreena’s life.

From her first sonogram to the first bump photo, she had and every maternity shot on the farm you could think of, to the day she was born, her first bath, first steps, chocolate cake shoved on her nose at her first birthday, everything. He felt like he watched her grow up in the blink of an eye, staring at all the photos while Y/N and Amoreena made a plan for her project.

She did look a lot like him, in some instances, she even looked like his mom. There was a look Diana would get when she was intrigued with something, or when she was trying to figure something out. She’d bite her tongue and tilt her head, and it was exactly what Amoreena did.

He never thought he’d see a child-like himself this early, he always expected someone to contact him at 18 and surprise him like Rossi. He really never, ever thought he'd have a child in his life who he was blessed with watching grow up. He never believed someone would have a kid so much like him and allow him to see the world through their eyes. He was amazed by how lucky he got, to be brought into an already happy family that wanted him, they didn’t just need him.

There was no need for a father in Amoreena’s life, she was happily living her life with her grandparents and her mother, explaining to him that she had a bunch of aunts and uncles, plus 15 cousins and they all lived close too. Her life was full of people to love her, and yet she wanted Spencer to love her too.

“Can I put the photo of us at the museum on here too?” She asked Y/N, looking at Spencer to see if he was okay with it too. “I already told my friends that you’re my dad.”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t want to cry in front of her so instead he just stopped all movement inside of his body and held it in. Looking at Y/N who was also a little emotional as Amoreena went back to looking through the photos.

Amoreena didn’t even notice how their expressions changed, she didn’t understand the weight of the words as she said them. She was oblivious to the hole in Spencer’s heart that she was filling with glitter glue, making him feel like he was whole again.

“Yeah,” he finally managed to speak. “I’d love to be on your project.”

“I know you said we don’t need dads but I kinda want one,” Amoreena’s soft expression made his heart melt even more. He was putty in her hands, willing to be whatever she wanted from him as long as he could.

“When did you say that?” Y/N asked softly, confused as to where she was when they had a conversation.

“The other morning at breakfast, um, my father left when I was little. It was just me and my wonderful mother until I was 21, then I found someone to call Dad. His name was Jason Gideon, he was my mentor and he made he feel like I was smart and loved,” he smiled, letting her know he genuinely meant it. “There’s a big difference between being a father and being someone's dad.”

“What’s that?” Amoreena’s innocent mind running wild as she tried to figure out his meaning.

“Anyone can be a father when two adults make a baby,” he said softly, making eye contact with Y/N as she blushed. Knowing where he was going with this. “But dads are special, they’re the people who are supposed to make you feel safe and loved. A person who you can turn to for advice and know he’ll love you no matter what you have to say. Dad’s are supposed to love you forever, regardless of what happens in life. Just like your mom does already.”

Amoreena leaned into his chest, pressing her head against him softly. He wrapped his arms around her gently, giving her the tiniest hug he’s ever given. “I pick you then, you’re the best guy I know and I think that means you’d be a good dad.”

Y/N silently cried, getting up from the table and walking into the kitchen so Amoreena wouldn’t see her sob. Spencer tried to widen his eyes so the tears he was generating would slip back into his tear ducts. Not wanting to cry as she held him.

“I’d love to be your dad,” he whispered, kissing her head softly as she held him tighter. “But first I’ve gotta check on your mom,” he whispered into her hair. Watching her pull away and look for where she was.

“Okay,” Amoreena shrugged, returning to her project as he wandered into the kitchen.

She was leaning against the counter when he walked in, her dress pulled up over her face as she cried into the material. Wiping her face as Spencer walked in and looking at him with the happiest smile.

She was laughing into her tears then, shaking her head as she sobbed, “why am I crying?”

He laughed then too, pulling her into a hug and spinning her around gently as she kept laughing. Her face buried into his neck as she smiled, he set her down gently so he could pull her into a kiss.

Her cheeks were all wet as he held her face, peppering kisses to her lips as they both tried to stop smiling.

“I’m going to miss hearing her call you Spencer,” Y/N whispered.

“Me too,” he giggled again. “But dad does have a good ring to it.”

tag list:

@shemarmooresfedora

@spencers-dria

@spookyspence

@reidsfish

@manuosorioh

[erwinsvow]

𝐚𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

note: part two to the college headcanons! part one can be found here! i had a lot of fun writing these and i hope everyone enjoys them :) teacher/student dynamic warning for zeke and hange's, and i guess bullying for annie's :/

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝

the very definition of kind-hearted frat boy who doesn’t fit the stereotype he’s been assigned at all

starts off with accounting before realizing he hates math, moves into business management and marketing

the linkedin profile is absolutely popping, 500+ connections and details about every club and organization he’s ever been a part of

the friend that helps everyone find internships and fixes their resumes while offering helpful advice and not being condescending… anyways so that’s how you meet porco

he works at the career center 100% and does various coaching/prep help, and you, pieck’s friend, are in desperate need of an internship

so you’re complaining to your friend as usual, when she tells you to stop by the building and ask for a “pock”

so you do just that, walking in and asking for “pock” and porco is a little stunned by this pretty stranger calling him by a nickname reserved for his close friends, and even then he just barely tolerates it

but he doesn’t want to correct you, especially since you’re being so sweet and he can tell you need some help

so a meeting at the career center slowly turns into facetime calls to review applications and last-minute edits, stopping by your dorm to help you fill out paperwork and walking together to mail it out

i have a feeling porco doesn’t wanna be too forward, and he thinks he’s being very aloof and casual, when he really just seems oblivious

and you cannot tell for the life of you if he likes you or he’s just being friendly since you’re close with pieck

finally after you land the internship and won't have your normal excuse to spend time with him, you get the guts you've been searching for

you tell him about the position later in the day, stopping by the center for hopefully the last time

"by the way, my number's on my resume if you're ever gonna ask me out."

leaves pocky-boy flustered and red and scrambling to ask you out, and you have been happily dating since

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

oh boy

conny is a very typical college kid in the sense that he will sleep through every 8 am class he has, blow off class to go wait in line for the nacho bar, and has adopted the mantra ‘c’s get degrees’

but he is an extremely lovable education major with a focus in history

rarely seen without his shadow sasha, but now that she started dating niccolo, she thinks that conny could use a relationship too, and that it might do him some good to be with a funny, down-to-earth person

thus begins the most grueling two weeks for every girl on campus, as sasha hunts down girls that she thinks would be a good match for her best friend

this includes airdropping a photo of conny to the lecture hall with the caption “would you date this man? serious inquiries only”

creates a fake tinder complete with a google form to narrow down the options

however, none of this is necessary because sasha bumps into you in the smoothie line and causes your triple berry blend to go flying

she helps you clean up and idle conversation leads to you talking about dates and so forth

“well, i’d love to set you up with my best friend? how do you feel about a blind date?”

yes, conny met you, the love of his life, on a blind date set up by sasha with a stranger

it’s one of those funny stories that people don’t believe when you tell them, because how ridiculous is that, but you both think it’s perfect since you get along so well and it made all the waiting worth it

bonus: double dates with sasha and niccolo! fondue night at their apartment, going to the arcade and having to lug up sasha and her food baby while niccolo parks the car, just overall a grand time :)

𝐳𝐞𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

zeke yeager, ph.d. started his new job at university with one rule in mind: absolutely no illicit affairs

he also coaches the club baseball team, because why not get involved on your campus

he really believes that he’s gonna stick with it too, despite the overwhelming number of students who come to his office hours with questions that his less handsome teaching assistants could answer

but no, he doesn’t want to earn a reputation as that professor, and so he heads into the new semester with absolutely no lingering thoughts of an exciting little dalliance to get him through the monotonous days

he knows his huge lecture classes would always come with a few pretty students, but it’s the smaller, upper-level psych class he’s teaching when he meets you for the first time

zeke has you all figured out, or so he thinks. sitting in the front row, raising your hand for questions he wasn’t expecting anyone to actually have an answer to, neatly handwritten notes in a color-coded notebook. he wouldn’t peg you for the type to jump and take the risk by starting a relationship with a professor.

but he soon realizes that he didn’t have you as figured out as he thought he did.

you avoid the gaggle of freshmen during office hours by scheduling meetings instead, sometimes right before class, coming to him with two cups of coffee and a wide smile that actually had him fooled into thinking you were here for academic reasons

this facade quickly fades though, because after a semester of interactions with you and getting more and more comfortable with each other, to the point where coffee orders are memorized and it’s zeke rather than professor yeager, you’ve had just about enough

he knows he’s fucked when you come visit him at practice for the baseball team, bringing him a drink and engaging in conversation while the players watch their coach flirt with you

he’s especially fucked when he realizes he’s looking forward to practice just because there’s a chance you’ll stop by on your way to your next class

you submit your final paper early, nearly a week before it’s due and of course the first in the class to do so, and waltz into his office the next day with another steaming cup of his favorite drink

“you submitted your paper pretty early, you know.”

“i know. i also know that it means i’m not your student anymore, so if you were going to make a move, now’s the time.”

no, he definitely had underestimated how much he knew about you.

𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

mikasa is a forensic sciences major and is still debating on the minor- she’s torn between criminal justice or history like armin.

she loves her major classes, but she just wants something else interesting to look forward to as well, so armin suggests sitting in on a couple classes early in the semester and getting a taste for it.

so you don’t really think twice when she claims the empty seat next to you on the first day of classes, smiling politely and paying attention to the professor. you do notice, however, that she’s not writing anything down or looking at the syllabus, leading you to strike a conversation on why that is.

she explains herself and then before you even know it, the lecture ends and you spent the last forty minutes talking to mikasa about anything and everything.

she’s sitting in on another class tomorrow, and absent mindedly invites you to come along, to which you agree all too quickly, because why wouldn’t you

numbers are exchanged, times are fixed, and mikasa leaves wondering why she’s so excited at the idea of sitting with you in class again.

you two hate the history class she had chosen, with the professor droning on and on and you being focused entirely on the conversation you’re having with mikasa

until the professor kicks the two of you out for not shutting up, that is

you’re both laughing hysterically once you reach the hallway

“i’m gonna have to discourage you from doing that history minor if that’s what all the classes are like.”

“well, i have to do criminal justice so we can have that class together, anyways.”

𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭

true to form, annie goes into one of the most difficult majors: cheg. definitely flies through intro courses with straight As and minimal effort, but that’s also mostly because all she and bertholdt do is study

reiner tries his hardest to get her to go to a party every once in a while, but usually to no avail because she always has an exam to study for

you’re a tutor, and honestly, you’d say you were pretty good at your job. you can answer questions and explain reasonings fairly well to confused students. but when annie comes to your office hours with some complicated problems and she’s asking for explanations that you just don’t have, you literally feel your face burn with heat for the entirety of the time she’s there

long story short, your first encounter is embarrassing, to say the least. you’re stumbling over words as you try to look through your old notes and piece together an answer for annie, who you cannot even look in the eyes.

anyways, she leaves eventually and you want a hole to open in the ground and swallow you up, but at least she won’t be back next week, right?

wrong.

miss leonhart doesn’t know how to express her feelings any better than you, so her way of flirting is spending time with you in the tutor center as you fail to answer her questions time and time again

you want to scream at her to stop coming because she and you both know you’re not helping either of you with this

but also you really don’t want her to stop coming because you don’t have any other ways to see her outside of class

both of you reach your wit’s end on the same day, her coming to you with the absolute easiest problems she could find in the textbook, and you with every intention of asking her out to dinner

she opens her book, and you reach and close it quickly

“unless this is the only way you know how to flirt, something has to change now.”

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐞

dr. zoë teaches, just, way too many classes

we’re talking multiple chemistry labs and upper-level research courses as well

you’re just a ph.d. student doing rotations as per usual, and you’ve heard the comments from students senior to you about dr. zoë, who makes every student in rotation say hange instead of the formal way you’re used to

you’ve heard everything from crazy to genius and everything in between

what you weren’t expecting was… so good looking, and young? and comforting? and talking about all the things that you didn’t have the guts to bring up with other people, like how you always feel a little left out in the field and that you think no one cares about your research interests that much—a lot of stuff that you find yourself pouring out to hange on your very first day in the lab

you’re wondering why it’s so easy to talk to them, and why none of the other rotations ever felt this comfortable

and then you realize you’re spilling your guts to someone who probably doesn’t even care, and has way more to deal with on their plate than a ph.d. student with imposter syndrome

so you’re apologizing right after you’ve finished, when you’re met with the warmest look and a reassuring hand on your shoulder

it’s so easy to fall after that, with weekly meetings and regular check-ins, and you know it’s wrong to have this strange crush on your superior, but hange really feels like the one person you can count on here

you hide the crush in favor of getting the mentorship you desperately think you need, but it’s not long until you’re onto the next rotation and the next lab’s work is even closer to the stuff you love

you hate the way you feel, that you’re not gonna have any reason to keep in touch and you never even got to explain how you feel about them—and that you didn’t even get to experience hange’s energy because she was always listening and helping you out

it’s not until you get a text the night before your first day in the new lab from hange, filled with reassuring words and asking for a coffee date later in the week to talk about how it goes, that you realize just how well hange understood you

𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

last but not least, miss pieck is double majoring in french and public health

absolutely obsessed with her majors and loves the subjects, but works herself to death to keep up with it all

you don’t even realize that the pretty, studious girl you’re seeing in the library all the time is the same girl you spot with some of your friends from class

pieck is as oblivious as they come. you invite her on study dates after you two are introduced by reiner, invite her to get coffee after a particularly late night of studying, pretty much start spending most of your days together

you can’t help but be disappointed that pieck doesn’t see you in that way, because you’ve slowly been falling head over heels, but you accept that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, and you still love the friendship you two have

it takes a while for things to click for pieck, but they do right as the semester eases up

once exams are over, you two decide to go to these famous parties porco and reiner never stop talking about

it’s not the usual scene you’re comfortable with, but what’s wrong with letting loose a little, especially after midterms? no harm in having fun, right?

wrong again! you definitely get plastered way too quickly, and eventually pieck takes you to a room to settle down

drunk confessions of love aren’t usually the way to go, but you can’t help but reveal everything you’ve been feeling for the last few months when pieck is taking care of you in your current state

you definitely wake up hungover and ignorant to last night’s shenanigans, but you’re in your dorm, with a bottle of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand, phone plugged in and shoes off

pieck comes back with breakfast, coffee and your favorite pastries, and checks up on you

“so.. about last night..”

“i’m so sorry, did i throw up on you?”

“no, but you did say you were in love with me. was that just a drunk thing, or is it a sober thing too? because i think i’m in love with you too.”