#while knowing smugly at the same time that she will NEVER find the gifts he hides in the rafters

[pastafossa]

Just....for the record... when you said Matt was stating on precariously balanced chairs this is where my brain went and I just need you to know that.

You should feel good about this because this is EXACTLY the sort of Matt showing off, balancing on the chairs just to show he CAN as he smugly places the Christmas gift in the rafters scene that I was picturing in my head when I wrote that part. 😂😂😂

[alcottsangel]

Rotten Chapter 1 {Steve Harrington x fem!reader}

Masterlist | Ao3 | Soundtrack

Summary: When something horrible happens to Y/n, her friends find her. Platonic Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley x reader. Poc and plus-size friendly.

Warnings: Rape!!, cursing, panic attack, mentions of weed, hyperventilation, vomiting, blood, vaginal bruises.

last part | next part

Yeah, so I wrote this to deal with some things. You know how it goes.

"Need a ride?" Eddie Munson asked, as his van came to a halt next to Steve Harringtons car.

There was smoke coming from the engine and Robin and Nancy stood behind him, annoyance written on their faces.

The light rain that was falling only made everything worse.

Steve turned to the Metalhead, as Eddie just smirked smugly with the window on his passenger side down.

"We're managing just fine." Harrington answered, before once again facing the vehicle as if he had any idea how to fix it.

Nancy Wheeler was the first to step forward, open the door of the backseat and slip inside, which caused a light chuckle from Eddie.

Robin followed her immediately, and Steve shot her a betrayed glance that she answered with a shrug. "I'm not gonna freeze off my ass in the middle of the night, while it's raining, might I add, just because you're too proud to get into someone else's car." She told him, as she walked around the van to get into the seat behind Eddie.

"Come on, Harrington. Or I might just leave you here." Eddie joked. Steve sighed dramatically, before closing the engine hood, locking his automobile and getting into the passenger seat.

"My dad is going to kill me." He mumbled, as the other man started to drive again. The music that came from the radio was turned down, it was Eddies highly valued Exodus tape, the one Y/n gifted him for his last birthday.

"At least you won't get yourself hospitalised for hypothermia." Nancy laughed lightheartedly, causing the other to smile. "Yeah, I guess." Steve answered, as he leaned against the door and looked out of the window, his eyes followed the raindrops on the glass, like a child waiting for one of them to win the imaginary race.

They drove for a few minutes, the music still quiet, before Eddie cleared his throat.

"Where do you want me to drop you off anyways? Like, what was your plan? It's..." He glanced at the clock. "It's almost midnight, after all."

Robins gaze catched his in the rearview mirror. The blonde raised her brow. "We could ask you the same now, couldn't we?"

The man shrugged, as he leaned back a bit. "I was at a party. One of these preppy ones that I would never attend out of free will." He told them, which surprised the others.

"Why were you there, if you didn't wanna be?" Nancy asked, but not teasingly. It was a try to lift the awkwardness by holding small talk.

"I was meant to pick up Y/n Y/l/n. You know, promised her I wouldn't let her go home by herself. When I showed up I almost wasn't let in, I couldn't find her anywhere, then some cheerleaders told me she walked off with a one of these laundry-basket guys." Eddie sounded a tad hurt by her ditching him.

"Well." Robin chuckled. "Good for her I guess."

It was quiet after that, the music once again dominating. Eddie silently hummed along, until Steve broke the silence. "We wanted to go to the exact party you're coming from." He finally revealed, and Eddie laughed.

"My god, why would anyone voluntarily go there." His laugh was infectious, as the rest tagged along just a second before going quiet again.

"You and Y/n are pretty close, right?" Steve turned to face Eddie for the first time since getting into the car. Robin mentally face-palmed herself. How could someone make a crush any more obvious than asking her best friend if they were dating?

Eddie nodded, eying Steve suspiciously.

"We've been best friends since I stepped on her sandcastle in second grade. Of course we're close." Eddie answered and the girls on the backseat exchanged a glance.

Y/n was involved into the entire paranormal shit since the beginning, she was always there. She walked to the Wheelers house to pick out outfits before parties with Nancy since they were fourteen, she worked together with Steve and Robin, she was even the first person Robin dared to come out to, but she strictly separated these friendships from the one she shared with Eddie. Them smoking weed, judging the cheerleaders when they practiced and making each other mixtapes was just for them. The line started blurring when Eddie got involved into the paranormal shit too. Y/n still tried her best to prevent that. It was a blatantly stupid exchange, they were in the upside down together, they knew who was close and who wasn't. Chances were high Eddie was running to Y/n to tell her Steve had a little crush as soon as they were out of his car.

But neither of the boys said another word, until Eddie asked where he was taking them again, and Steve told him his adress. It wasn't like his parents were home anyways, so there was no issue with some friends staying over.

The Metalhead finally turned the music up, as 'Bonded by blood' was playing.

The crew fell silent once again.

That was, until Nancy saw a figure walking down the side of the road, dressed entirely unfitting for the rain (despite it being summer), and she soon recognised that person as Y/n Y/l/n herself.

"There's Y/n!" She blurted out and pointed into her direction. Eddie laughed, as if she was joking, until her spotted her himself and slowed the car, Steve rolled down the passenger window.

"Hey sweetheart, get in the car!" The Metalhead exclaimed. Y/n turned to him, she seemed startled, almost disturbed with her wet hair clinging to her face and her arms wrapped around her body.

"Eddie." She stated, her voice fragile.

The car now stood, and Y/n noticed that her best friend was not alone, as Steve opened his door to make space for her on the passenger seat.

"My lady." He joked, holding the door open for her. She recognised Robin and Nancy in the back, as they were waving lightly.

Y/n swallowed, still keeping her distance.

"I don't want to stain the seat." She stated, her eyes meeting Steve's briefly, before she quickly looked away again. Her voice sounded incredibly hollow and all of them knew that something was wrong. "A little rain won't do damage." Eddie chuckled to cheer her up a bit, but she just nodded hesitantly before slowly walking towards the door. Steve still held it open, and she stopped to look at him, whispering a 'thank you' his way while she sat down. He closed her door, before getting into the backseat as well, pushing Robin further into the car.

Eddie started driving once again, as the rain stopped and he turned off the windshield wipers.

"Their car broke down. I came to pick you up, like I promised, but you were already gone." The brunette informed her. Y/n only nodded again, her fingers playing with the hem of her skirt.

"Are you alright?" Robin was the first to ask the question they all had. Y/n didn't react at first, then she opened her mouth and closed it again, before taking a deep breath.

"Sure." She shrugged, but her voice was still so brutally hollow and Steve could feel his chest tighten in worry. Eddie licked his lips, trying his best not to sound like a complete ass despite being a bit mad that she wasn't there when he came to that damn party, just for her. "Did that guy ditch you?" Her best friend asked, once again turning down the volume of his music.

"What?" Y/n stuttered, as she properly looked at the Metalhead for the first time.

Eddie shrugged. "Some girls told me you left with someone from the team. I mean, I don't like them, you know, but I thought you'd be fine. But he's a dick if he ditched you." He rambled.

Y/n could feel tears dwelling up, but she swallowed them as she turned away from her friends again. It took her a moment to form an answer, because she feared the tears would actually fall if she talked. And once she did, she only managed to blurt out an 'oh'.

So that's what everyone thought, huh? That she walked off with 'someone from the team', that she walked off with Jason Carver to have some fun? "Are you sure you're okay?" Nancy urged Y/n, as the latter felt the hand of the brunette woman on her shoulder. She was quick to move away, licking her lips and taking a few breaths before being capable of talking again.

"God, I'm fine. I walked off with some guy, he ditched me, it's not that deep. I'm fine." She reassured her friends, in a tone that made it clear she had no interest in discussing it further.

She leaned her head against the window, shifting on her seat to get as far away from everyone as she could.

Y/n lost focus, still picking at the hem of her skirt until she felt something wet between her legs. Her breathing stopped, before she boldly touched her thigh under her skirt. The car was dark, but as she saw the red liquid that now covered her palm she finally felt the reality wash all over her.

Everything around her got blurry, her head was pounding and suddenly everything was much too loud for her. The lump in her throat felt thicker, as she felt that she had to puke. Her breathing went faster and she gasped for air like a fish out of water, the panic now dominating entirely.

"Eddie, stop the car!" The young woman shrieked, startling the others.

"What? Why?!" Eddie exclaimed, still driving.

"Stop the car!" She told him again, her voice full of panic as she felt unable to breathe and began crying. Eddie hit the brakes abruptly, but as soon as the car stood on the completely empty road, Y/n unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of it.

She could only take three short steps, stumbling a bit until she fell to her knees at the side of the road, blood still on her hands and running down her legs, and threw up into the bushes. The gagging caused even more tears, and at this point it was a disgusting mix of hyperventilating and vomiting and her own blood.

Steve was the first who jumped out of the car to follow her, running around it as fast as he could and putting his hand onto her forehead to hold her while she still threw up. Y/n had no idea who held her, but she was grateful because everything, especially her head, felt so heavy, and without the person who held her she wouldn't be able to kneel anymore. Nancy was quick to follow, already preparing some handkerchiefs and a bottle of water.

Eddie was the one who realised she was bleeding, as he stared at the huge stain on the passenger seat. He felt the need to tell the others, to have them comfirm what was right before him, because he couldn't quite grasp it. His stuttering caught Robins attention, who then noticed it as well.

Her mind started racing, realising where Y/n bled, and then realising that she never just walked off with some guy. As the blonde put two and two together, she could feel tears coming up herself. God, that was what she meant when she said she didn't want to stain the seat...

"Shit, fuck." Robin whispered and walked off, brushing her hands through her face. "Fuck." She stated again, more loudly.

Y/n didn't even hear her, she still panicked as Steve rubbed circles on her back in a desperate attempt to sooth the crying girl.

"Sssssh, you're fine. It'll be fine. I'm right here. I got you, I won't let go." He assured .

Nancy and him exchanged a glance, as Nancy got up and handed Steve the supplies she had prepared.

The brunette woman walked towards Eddie, who got out of the car and seemed so livid, that she thought he was going to explode any second. He made an attempt to walk towards his best friend, but he seemed like he was about to scream, or hit something, anything, and Nancy stopped him.

"You're not being helpful." The brunette told him, but he shook his head. "You haven't seen it yet, have you?" He hissed, pointing to the car. Nancy shook her head in confusion, until the tears that now fell down the Metalheads cheeks got her moving, getting faster with every step until she reached the car and saw it herself.

"No." She breathed out. "No, no, no, no, no..."

Nancy looked at Robin, who never appeared more resigned, a silent conversation going on between them. They turned to Steve, the way he held Y/n, the way she would completely lose halt if he wouldn't be there. The way he whispered soothing words into her ear. They turned to Eddie, who kicked the tire of his car, running his hands through his hair with guilt written all over his face, and they turned to Y/n, understanding of what happened, what was done to her, washing over her, and how she held onto Steve like he was all she had and they thought that the person who did this to her, was worse than any upside down monster could ever be, because he was human.

I'll write a second part if you want one I guess. I'm not even sure if it's okay, I just needed to write this.

Taglist: (If you are tagged in red, it means I couldn't tag you. Here are reasons for that. Comment if you want to be added or removed, but please understand that I am not replying because I get alot. If you do not receive a notification that I added you, check here again to see if your name is red, or message me.)

[zzzzzzzzzzoom]

Encanto Headcanons

Do you think that Pepa and Julieta ever asked Bruno to see their future partners? Like I feel Bruno would be too disinterested/anxious to talk abt anything romance but for his sisters, he probably would, he cant say no to them. anw heres some headcanons ✨

(this is focused on julieta and agustin! my headcanons for pepa and felix are here!)

(spoiler: it gets really sappy at the end)

Pepa's love life is pretty adventurous. She'd gone thru a few but they all fell through bc they couldnt handle her disastrous mood swings :') anw she wants to take her mind off all that by focusing on her sister's love life instead which is. nonexistent

I feel like Julieta's popular around town bc of her healing powers, but she's waiting for The One™️. But Pepa's bored and chaotic so she just pulls Bruno aside one afternoon

Pepa: wanna meddle with juli's love life? Bruno: aight bet

the two kidnap their older sister into Bruno's room one night and Julieta doesn't wanna deal with all this,,, but her curiousity gets the better of her and she decides it wouldnt hurt to see who she'd end up with

boom bruno activates his gift and WOAH julieta's man is handsome. like, too handsome. pepa's almost jealous.

luckily they dont recognize him bc that would make it awkward going around town,,, tho julieta's a little disappointed. she does keep the glass vision in her room under her bed, though.

pepa actively searches for the Mystery Man™️ for a few weeks before she gives up, while the other two keep a look out just in case

a few years pass by. pepa's most recent favorite activity is arguing with felix. bruno's more shut-in because of his growing bad reputation. julieta's more popular than ever.

and then it happens. it's just a glimpse but bruno knows INSTANTLY

it's julieta's Mystery Man

mf SPRINTS to the house and whisper shouts "julieta's future boyfriend is in town!!" (luckily alma's not at home atm)

pepa is thrilled bc she FINALLY has something to mess her responsible older sister with, and julieta's suddenly nervous bc. well. that Mystery Man is her future and she almost... doesnt want it to be set in stone

pepa almost runs out to find him but she doesn't have to bc he walks in... with a sheepish expression and a broken wrist

pepa is grinning smugly. bruno is watching with mild interest (taking mental notes for those telenovelas). julieta doesn't react and smiles politely, giving him one of her freshly baked pastries

"Thank you, Julieta. I can't believe I'm here just as I got back," he says kindly, and Julieta's heart jumps in her throat. "I guess I missed your cooking more than I thought," he continues, chuckling, and she recognizes that laugh, that soft voice.

She can't speak. She doesn't know how to. Because the man Bruno said would marry her... is Agustin? The same Agustin who saw her every other day when they were younger because he was so clumsy and she needed to heal him? The same Agustin who taste tested her food when her siblings and Mama were busy? Who made her laugh?

She heard he left town to go to college, but she wasn't expecting... this much of a glow up. He looks nice. She hopes she isn't staring (pepa says she totally was)

But... she isn't disappointed. To her surprise, she feels the opposite. Now, she realizes, she was dreading meeting the future Bruno had seen for her... because she had picked her own future, long ago.

She had picked Agustin. She had picked him long before the glowup, when he was still lanky and awkward and full of bee stings. She just didn't realize it until right this moment. Well, better late than never.

"Welcome back, Agustin," she says with a genuine smile, and watches in amusement and fondness as he stutters over her greeting, settling for a polite nod. Pepa and Bruno gasp in the background.

(They know Agustin; it's hard not to notice the same guy ask for their sister's snacks multiple times a week. It's happened before, men getting hurt on purpose just to see Julieta, and Pepa and Bruno would scare them away so they wouldn't take advantage of their sister anymore. But they didn't mind Agustin, because he was genuinely unintentionally getting hurt, so often that it was almost a gift in and of itself. Julieta was more upset that she herself didn't recognize him from the vision.)

She follows him out to catch up, and they talk easily, like those years between them didn't happen at all. It's dark when Julieta gets back, and she has to shove an arepa in Pepa's mouth to stop her from screaming in excitement when she confirms she's taking the day off tomorrow to welcome Agustin back into town... by having lunch together.

BONUS:

Two months after Julieta and Agustin officially start dating, Pepa asks Bruno to show them a vision of Agustin's proposal. Julieta would've left, because that was just too soon, if not for the fact that they apparently get engaged after she catches a bouquet. Which Pepa threw. At her wedding. With Felix.

Pepa doesn't look anyone in the eye for the next week, but the sky isn't storming. On the contrary, it's strangely sunny. (Bruno mumbles something about a plot twist and Julieta decides to be the bigger woman and not laugh at her despairing little sister.)

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Vampy come down for family dinner and help clean up like he wasn’t just defiling their daughter 10 minutes ago

Harry would rail the fuck out of her in her closet with one hand over her mouth and another around her throat, grunting absolute filth into her ear as she spills over him with muffled whines and sobbed pleas. He’d lick her clean, pull her panties and leggings back up her quaking thighs, and proceed to buckle his slacks casually while she props herself against the wall, trembling and panting.

He just leans forward and presses a chaste kiss between her sweaty brows, her skin sticky against his lips as he murmurs smugly. “I’m gonna go finish cleaning up the kitchen with your mum. Come back down after you’ve sorted yourself out, and don’t forget to wipe your makeup off. It’s smeared down your face.”

Y/N does as he says, wiping the watery steaks of mascara off her cheeks and fixing her wild hair, making sure to leave no evidence of their little escapade, lest Harry end up sleeping outside on the yard. When she finally gets back down to her living room (she takes the stairs extra carefully, her belly throbbing with each step), the vampire is sitting in the rocking chair next to her mother’s, swaying lightly as they chat away nonchalantly.

They’re laughing and gossiping, their hands occupied with all types of yarn and needles, and she always forgets that Harry had learned how to knit when he was younger. It’s so baffling to see him engaging innocently with her mom, his nimble fingers expertly working on a multicolored scarf as he does so, not sparing the piece the slightest glance due to how confident he is in his skills. The reason it’s especially startling is because those fingers had been inside her not even five minutes ago.

“So we were running around this lake near my house,” Harry explains candidly, clearly in the middle of telling a story from his past as his digits weave in and out amidst red and purple yarn, “and we were playing in the snow near the banks, which was our first mistake. My mother had told me that the snow around the shores tended to be really slushy, so if we weren’t careful, we’d end up slipping really easily. We didn’t listen, of course— what ten year old does? We were playing tag with the neighbors, and as I was chasing after Gemma, I accidentally shoved her a bit too hard and she slipped and fell right into a pile of muddy snow. Completely stained everything she was wearing.”

Her mom releases a disappointed hiss, giving him a sympathetic glance over the glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. “Poor thing.”

Harry nods in agreement, looping yarn over his needles as he extends the scarf over his lap for more space, continuing his labor. “My mum grounded me for a week, and I spent that entire time learning to knit so I could remake Gemma’s mittens, since I was the one that ruined them. It was a fair punishment, honestly, and I ended up liking it more than I thought. Plus, the mittens I made were way better than the original pair. You just can’t buy this type of talent anywhere.”

The older woman laughs boisterously at his self-absorbed joke, which results in Harry smiling to himself proudly, giggling along.

Y/N clears her throat softly, leaning against the archway that leads into the room and crossing her arms over her chest in a relaxed manner, quirking an eyebrow at both of them as she makes her presence known. “Having fun?”

Harry glimpses over at her, his eyes raking down her body to where she’s clasping her thighs tightly, irises gleaming with knowing condescension. “Loads.”

“Harry was just telling me about when he learned to knit!” Y/N’s mother chirps, sending a warm smile towards the boy sitting across from her, unaware of the fact that he’d been defiling her daughter not too long ago. “It’s not often that you find a young man with this type of interest. He’s a keeper, sweetheart.”

“Hear that?” The immortal gloats teasingly, wagging his brows playfully as he holds up his unfinished accessory. “I’m a keeper.”

“Mm.” His girlfriend hums sarcastically, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling to avoid giving him any satisfaction. “I bet you’re just loving all this praise, aren’t you?”

Harry whistles lowly, tutting in a chastising fashion. “Someone’s jealous.”

Y/N rectifies her posture, an appalled expression cracking over her features. “Am not!”

“Are to.”

“Am not.”

“Are to.” Harry insists doggedly, looking over at the older woman for support. “Isn’t she?”

Her mom studies her for a moment, clicking her tongue scoldingly. “I think maybe you are, honey. Just a bit.”

Harry cranes his head back towards Y/N, sticking his tongue out mockingly behind the woman’s back and scrunching up his face comically, flaunting his childish point.

“Plus, Harry was sweet enough to make you that scarf he’s working on. You should be more grateful.”

Harry softens his eyes dramatically, sugaring his voice into a honeyed drawl that only she can read through. “Yeah, Y/N. I’m going out of my way to make you this nice gift, and that’s the thanks I get?”

“Dickhead.” The girl grumbles pettily, shifting on her feet as she glowers at him.

Her mother glares at her accusingly. “Language! I taught you better than that!”

“Mm. You should be more careful with what you say; words hurt more than you know.” Harry tacks on with a snide grin, shrugging his brows daringly as he slips an innuendo into his next line. “Mouthing off like that could get you into a whole lot of trouble.”

The pit of her tummy throbs at his curtained challenge, her eyes narrowing as she bites back the urge to curse him out again. “Thanks for the moral advice, Aristotle, but I’m grown enough to face the consequences of my own actions.”

Harry slowly puts down his knitting needles onto the small table beside him, picking up the scarf laying across his thighs and rolling it out in its entirety. It’s now that she realizes the item is much too thin width-wise to be scarf— it looks more like a belt, similar to the strap used to tie off a robe. The vampire flickers his gaze over to Y/N’s mom to make sure she’s not watching, and once he sees the lady is once again preoccupied with her knitting, he trains his attention back onto his partner.

He lifts the long colorful band up to his neck, tying one end around his throat loosely and wrapping the excess length around his knuckles, giving the article a symbolic tug. Y/N’s cheeks burst with heat at the crude reenactment, suddenly coming to terms with what he’s actually created under the guise of a harmless statement piece: it’s a makeshift collar.

Harry watches her avidly, a sinister smirk carving his dimples into place once he sees she’d understood his implication. He yanks the leash from around his neck swiftly before he gets caught, rolling the material back up neatly to disguise it. He cocks his head to the side conceitedly, his accent slathered with the same amount of arrogance as his gesture. “You never know, dove. Sometimes the consequences might be too much for you to handle.”

[jackie-shitposts]

I Thought Thieves Love Jules!

Carmen strolled out of the elevator, feeling pretty beat after her workout with Shadowsan. Not that she would ever admit that- she had wanted to keep going, but it had only been two days since she got electrocuted in Egypt, so Shadowsan made her cut her workout short while he continued. Carmen sauntered over to the counter, taking a long drink from her water bottle, just as Player’s image appeared on her laptop screen. “Check it out, Red. Julia just posted a new entry on her blog, about a recent find in Columbia.” Player said, ”But it totally digresses into fun facts about fair trade coffee, including a “Red Blend.” Carmen leaned onto the counter. “Could be another riddle to solve?” “Good thing I learned a thing or two about code-breaking from Julia.” Player smirked, clearly excited to show off his new skills. “Every paragraph ends with a number. If you line ‘em up like they're a date and time, it’s tomorrow at 8am.” “Seems Chief wants an opportunity to thank me over coffee.” Carmen quirked an eyebrow. Seems as though she’d be seeing her favorite agent-turned-historian-turned-agent-again in the field, per Chief’s request. “How can you be sure it’s not a trap?” Player asked apprehensively. “If it were, Jules would’ve worded it differently.”

“OoOoO, are we talking about Jules?” Zack asked, peeking his head out from the doorway.

“That ACME gal Carm has a crush on?” Ivy chimed in, peeking her own head out from under her brother.

Carmen rolled her eyes at the sibling’s cartoonish antics. “Jules and I are just friends, you two.”

Ivy scoffed, entering the room and flopping onto the couch.  “Yeah right- then why did you specifically go to her when you needed help decoding the relics?”

Carmen casually took a sip of her water before answering.  “Jules was already familiar with VILE- getting a stranger involved would’ve only made things more complicated and dangerous than it already was.” Zack hopped onto the couch opposite of Ivy, resting his feet up on her knees. He pointedly ignored Ivy’s protests of, “Zack, gross!” and smirked at Carmen. “Oh? Then why did you ask Devineaux where she was in Louisiana?” “Hey, you never told me about that one!” Ivy gasped, feigning betrayal. “I was just surprised ACME let that driving disaster use a car,” Carmen quipped. Player laughed on his side of the screen. “Don’t act like you’re any better, Red. Don’t you remember your first caper?”

Carmen gasped, pretending to be insulted. “Says the 17 year old without a learners permit.”

“Not like I have anywhere to go.” Player laughed, before refocusing on Carmen’s interrogation. “Speaking of firsts, how about when you first met Julia? I listened in, and it totally sounded like you were flirting with her. You called her “Jules” on your first meeting!” Carmen narrowed her eyes at Player in defiance.  “I was just sitting across from Jules so I could blend in while keeping an eye on Paper Star. And what’s wrong with nicknames? I called Crackle “Gray” and Ivy “Ives”. I don’t see what the difference is.” “The difference is that you and Cracker used to be best friends, and now we are best friends. However, you and Jules were not friends at the time.” Ivy said, emphasizing the nickname. “His name is Crackle now.” “He went and rejoined VILE, I think I get to call Gary whatever I want.” Player chimed back into the conversation. “Why did you leave the Magna Cartas with Julia, anyway? You had one conversation with her, what made you think leaving them with her meant they were in “good hands?” “While sitting next to her, I noticed Devineaux’s briefcase, and she said they were travel partners on business. I figured that meant they were law enforcement also trying to recover the documents. Leaving them with Jules simply saved me the hassle of returning the documents myself.” Carmen explained casually. “What about the fashion show in Milan, Carm? Why’d you have Julia help us then?” Zack asked, a shit-eating grin plastered onto his face. Carmen sighed in annoyance. Why won’t they just get off her back about this already? “Jules was the only ACME agent around, and I knew that ACME would be able to get the gowns to safety. And before you ask,” Carmen pointed at Ivy, whose mouth was already open with some smug retort, “I put her in charge instead of you because she would know where the gowns could be put for ACME to return.” At that, Ivy simply leaned back onto the couch and mirrored her brother’s smug grin.  “Yeah, that was a fun night.” She smirked, and Zack tried to hold back his laugh that came out as more of a snort. Carmen raised her brow at the untold story, but she decided not to press. For the sake of her sanity.

“Well, what about Stockholm?” Zack blurted. Ivy and Player’s eyes snapped to Carmen, looking for any hint of discomfort, and Zack immediately tried to rectify the situation. “I-I mean, yknow, you just were gonna go try to get her help before-”

Carmen cut off his anxious rambling, smiling warmly. “Don’t worry about it Zack, I know what you mean. I wanted to talk to Jules to see if she could get ACME to back off. While that obviously didn’t happen, I know Jules didn’t try to betray me.” Carmen glanced out the window for a moment, whispering quietly to herself. “I don’t think I could be angry at her if I tried.” Carmen turned back to her friends and smiled. “Plus, she helped me out in Monaco and Ile De L'oleron afterwards, so-” Player practically leapt up from his chair, causing a loud crash as he knocked the fidget spinners off his desk and dropped the rubix cute he was playing with. “Yeah, let's talk about Monaco! You can’t tell me you guys weren’t flirting at the party. She was so confident you were going to deliver the goods to her door, and you trusted her not to stop you when you stole the eggs. Come on, Red, you know she was flirting with you!” Carmen felt Zack and Ivy’s eyes on her expectantly, and she chuckled at Player’s exasperation. “Player, I’m pretty good at reading people, and I’m fairly certain she wasn’t flirting with me. Even if she was, I was not flirting ba-” “Then what about the roses?”

Carmen’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. How did Zack, of all people, know about the roses?

“Oh my god, the roses! Carm, why the fuck didn’t you tell us about the roses?” Ivy exclaimed, springing up from her relaxed position on the couch.

Carmen bit her lip before answering. “They were just flowers, as a thank you gift for the help. How do you know about them, anyway? I didn’t buy them until after you guys left.”

At that, Player piped up once again. “So Red, you know how at the end of each month, I look through our funds and see how much we spend on capers, to set our budget for the next month? Well, it was pretty interesting for me to see that you used our encrypted card to buy a bouquet of red roses from the flower shop across the street from Julia’s apartment, on the same day we left her the goods.”

Fuck. Carmen needed to shut this down, now. “They were just a thank you gift guys, nothing more. Just something Jules could keep for herself. And red is my color, so the roses seemed like a good gift. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Carmen glared at the redheads sternly, daring them to stop her, before looking down at Player with the same forbidding look. ”I’m going to take a shower. Player, let me know when you’ve got a red eye to Seattle ready.” Carmen closed the laptop, tucked it under her arm and walked out of the room without looking back. ~~~

The video call flickered to black, and Player leaned back into his chair, sighing. Red can be so thick-headed sometimes. As he booked her flight, he thought back to their teasing and banter from moments before.

Red seemed pretty genuine- maybe we were wrong after all.

Player took a deep breath- he didn’t want to call Carmen back so soon, especially when she seemed pretty pissed at the end of their last call- but he had booked her flight for a short two hours from now. So, Player reconnected to Carmen’s laptop, still looking at the red eye information on his other monitor, before hearing a loud, exasperated groan coming from his speakers.

“Holy fuck that was such a mess!”

Player’s head snapped towards his other monitor. The laptop had been set on the dresser across from Carmen’s bed, where she was laying sprawled out in agony. Player quickly hit his mute button and sat back to watch.

Carmen’s arms raised up to cover her face- though Player couldn’t see it, he was sure her face was covered in her signature color. “God, and the roses- why did I use the card for the roses? That’s a basic credit card slip, how am I so stupid!”

Carmen sat up, hands still over her flushed face. “I’m so fucking lucky they didn’t hear us on the ferry or at her office, there’s no way they would’ve ever let that go- I thought I wasn’t being obvious about this stupid crush-

That was all the confirmation Player needed. He clicked unmute and nearly shouted, “So you do have a crush on Julia! I knew it!”

Carmen’s head snapped up to the source of the sound, her face as red as her coat hanging on the wall’s hook. “Player! What the fuck are you-” Carmen froze as she watched Player pick up his cell phone. “Player, if you do what I think you’re about to-”

“Then what? You’re two thousand miles away Red, I'm practically untouchable.” He laughed and grinned smugly at the webcam as he dialed a number.

“Player, you are so dead next time I visit Ontario!” Carmen yelled before she threw her door open, barrelling down the hall to the stairway.

~~~

Zack and Ivy watched in silence as Carmen walked out of the room. When they heard the door to the stairway close, they looked at each other, before they couldn’t take it anymore and burst into laughter.

“Holy shit she looked so mad!” Ivy wheezed through her laughing fit.

“I know! Do you think that means she was telling the truth?” Zack questioned as he tried (and failed) to calm his giggles.

“No way.”

“But she seemed pretty-”

“What are you two laughing about?” Shadowsan’s stern voice stopped the twin’s giggling dead in its tracks. Just as Ivy opened her mouth to make an excuse, since she doubted Carmen wanted Shadowsan involved in her love life, (he is like her father, isnt he?) Zack spoke up.

“We tried to get Carm to confess that she likes Julia, but she kept on telling us she just likes Julia as a friend. Maybe she wasn’t lying, most of her reasons were pretty solid.” Ivy would’ve smacked him then and there if Shadowsan hadn’t interrupted her train of thought with a small chuckle. Since when did Shadowsan chuckle? “On VILE Island, Carmen was trained to be a master of deception. Do you not realize that she was also trained to survive any interrogation?” Shadowsan said, with…humor in his voice? Zack and Ivy were silent for a moment. “Wait, does that mean she actually does like Ju-” The moment was interrupted with a call on Ivy’s phone. When she looked at the caller ID, her eyes widened as she answered it and put the device on speaker. “Carmen does have a crush on Julia!” Player shouted from the phone, just as the Crimson Gay Ghost herself burst into the room and crashed into Ivy. “Dammit!” Carmen yelled, taking the phone from Ivy who was now on the floor with Carmen and laughing. “Player, I’m going to fly to Ontario and kick your ass!” Player’s laughing from the phone was almost drowned out by Zack and Ivy’s. “Oh no you’re not, you’ve got a flight to catch in two hours!” “OoOh where to? To go see your “favorite ACME agent”?” Ivy teased through her laughter. “Yeah Carm, I thought thieves love Jules!” Zack said as he laughed. Carmen jumped off of Ivy, her voice a noticeably higher pitch and her face extremely red as she shouted, “No! I mean- well, that is- I just-” As Zack, Ivy and Player continued to tease an extremely red-faced and stammering Carmen, Shadowsan smiled and quietly walked out of the room. It seems the war may be coming to a close with ACME on their side, but that doesn’t mean Carmen has to stop chasing someone.

[elizabethemerald]

Fall Anniversary at the Soltryce Academy

Caleb walked into his classroom at the Soltryce Academy with the immediate instinct that something was wrong. He had been teaching Transmutation theory and application in this same class room for the past twenty years, so anything that seemed different set off alarms in his head. 

He mentally checked the wards on the class room and found them intact. There were a few students in their seats, a few more filtering into the lecture hall, by the second. None of them seemed alarmed. Whatever was different today did not appear to be an immediate threat. 

Still just to be safe he subtly cast Detect Magic as he set his bag down and took off his coat. Immediately a few points were highlighted in his mind. Of course his own magical items, the amber around his neck and the amulet beside it, the ring on his finger, the chalk he had enchanted to help him lecture. Nothing off there. 

There were a few points of magic around the rest of the room, each quickly analyzed and dismissed. Transmutation magic on a small pile of coins near the wall, a low level student’s practice project. Abjuration magic in the wards along the walls. Divination magic in a button, another spying device Astrid had tried to sneak into his class room to keep him from teaching against the school’s policies. 

It was the illusion spells that caught his attention. A few of the students were covered in the same, linked illusion. Their appearance normal enough to blend in, but also entirely too normal for a real student. And there, a student he didn’t recognize even with his keen mind, covered in an illusion spell. Several other magical objects of varying power, hidden under the spell. The Vestige appeared to be within its pocket dimension, so at least they hadn’t brought a weapon onto campus. 

After setting down his things and greeting his class he squeezed past a few of the students to grab Astrid’s enchanted button. He quickly dispelled it and slipped it into an envelope to return to her later. As he returned to the front he gave the cat sitting on his desk a brief scratch. 

“Hello Jester.” He said. Of course he didn’t need Detect Magic telling him of the cat’s aura of Transmutation to know his friend. She was bright blue after all and staring at him far more smugly than even a magic fey cat would. 

“Now class, I know we were discussing transmutation principles as applied to effecting the elements around you, but I am afraid that lesson will have to be postponed. It would seem that it is the anniversary of the Mighty Nein getting together and they have decided to invite themselves to my class.”

There was a muttering around the class room as the students looked at each other, before one of them near the front stood up, the illusion dropping off her form as she did so. 

“I told you he wouldn’t fall for it!” Veth said in her high voice, She looked mostly unchanged from when they first brought her back to her proper body. A few more laugh lines, but nothing more to show the passing two decades. “Lebby, is an amazing wizard, he wouldn’t fall for something simple like that. You students better appreciate the skill of your teacher.”

Caleb smiled fondly as Veth walked up to the front to give him a hug. Interspersed through the seats a few more illusion spells dropped. A half elven man walked up from the front row and kissed him on the cheek. Essek’s own illusion lasting even as he dismissed the Seeming on Kingsley and Yasha. 

“How did they rope you into this?” Caleb whispered to Essek. 

“Oh you know I can’t resist a practical joke.” Essek maintained his deadpan delivery for only a few seconds before a small smile graced his lips. Caleb knew quite well that Essek looked as ageless as ever, under his illusion. His elven blood would keep him looking much the same for the next few centuries. Caleb returned the kiss, to the muttering of his students. They weren’t ever a 100% sure who Caleb’s rotating cast of elven boyfriends were, and Caleb was more than happy to keep them in the dark. 

“Well you can’t fault us for trying!” Kingsley said. They were wearing a scandalously low cut shirt, a pair of plain black pants, and a pair of thigh high boots. His purple hair was fading to a less vibrant shade just a bit near his ears and he had a larger collection of scars, as one would expect from years of piracy and being a bloodhunter. They were also wearing their sword much to Caleb’s disapproval, which was apparently not magical. 

“You can’t expect me to hide this glorious look without magic though can you?” He said, sliding his hands down to his hips then back up his torso. Then he grabbed Caleb’s chin and kissed him full on the mouth, with tongue for several seconds, while his students lost their collective minds. Caleb smiled against Kingsley’s lips right before the tiefling stepped back. He was sure the rumor mill of the school would go wild about that for a few weeks. He wished he could see the look on Master Beck’s face when the news came across her desk. “Here’s to another twenty years, magic man.”

Yasha and Caduceus walked up next, each giving Caleb a tight hug. These two showed their age the least of the non elven members of the Nine. Cad could have been just stepping out of the temple doors in the Blooming Grove, saying that he had only three cups, if it weren’t for the increased presence of lichens and mosses of all kinds on his clothes and armor. Caleb was fairly certain there was an actual bird’s nest in his pink hair. Yasha of course looked as badass and muscular as she had when they first found her. Her hair was completely white, done up in an ornate braid. Home life seemed to suit her well, she looked genuinely happy and relaxed like she certainly hadn’t when they had first gotten together. 

Fjord’s spell dropped as well. The half orc’s hair had large stripes of gray in it, he had crows feet at the corners of his eyes, and his salt and pepper beard had significantly more salt to it now. He still looked good, life at sea, despite its hardships, keeping him fit. He laughed at something over Caleb’s shoulder as he approached and he found himself lifted bodily into the air by a pair of muscular blue arms. 

Jester having dropped her polymorph spun him around briefly in the hug before setting him back on his feet. She would never fail to look divine. Her horns now curling in on themselves, almost like her mother’s had when they first met her. Her hair is pulled back into a pony tail, poofing out behind her head from the salt air. Her sailing days were certainly not hurting her in anyway. Her smile was still just as wide, her eyes just as sharp, and her arms just as strong, if not more so. 

“Happy anniversary Caleb! Twenty years ago you were a stinky wizard. Now you are here teaching!” Jester’s happiness in her voice carried to every corner of the lecture hall. 

“What happened to our plan of drinks in Nicodranas this evening?”

“I just couldn’t wait Cay-leb.” She pouted. “Fjord and I got into port early, and I was so bored.”

Caleb smiled at her, then looked around at the rest of the Nein, pretending to count. 

“We appear to be one short. Where is my sister? Couldn’t drag her away from the Cobalt training pit? Or did she get lost in a book like some kind of nerd?” Caleb said with a smirk.

“Mother fucker!” 

He looked up towards the voice above him, just in time to watch Beauregard drop from the ceiling, to land on his desk with a perfect three point landing. She hopped off the desk and punched his arm, before also grabbing him in a tight hug. 

“I am not a nerd, Widogast!” She snapped, a wide grin on her face. 

“Beauregard, please do not land on my desk. It was a gift and I don’t think it could bare too many impacts like that.” He stopped to look up at the vaulted ceilings of the class room. “Also, how did you get up there?”

If she had been invisible she would have tripped the wards on the class room. And if she had gone in the brief break between classes one of the early students would have noticed her and caused a stir. 

Beau took her turn to smirk. 

“I have been waiting up there for four hours so we could surprise you. It’s surprisingly comfortable. I could have gone another couple of hours without breaking a sweat.” She paused to flex, causing several students, and Yasha to blush at her muscles. 

Beauregard’s monk training meant that she looked like she hadn’t aged a day since Aeor. And she could still easily out fight everyone else in the room if she wanted to. She was also the one member of the Nein that Caleb saw the most frequently. Their work to root out corruption among the Cerberus Assembly, and other bodies of power in the Empire often kept them up together late into the night, until Yasha would intervene and throw her wife over her shoulder to carry her to bed. 

“Can I finish the lesson, or should we depart immediately?” Caleb asked, already guessing the answer. 

“Cayyyllleeeb.” Jester groaned, pulling at her face. “I’m sooooo bored. I want to drink and party already!”

Caleb turned back to his class of students. He was sure most of them had heard rumors about Professor Widogast and the wild adventures he got up to with the Mighty Nein back when they first got together. He wasn’t sure how much they actually believed, but he was sure that even the most widely blown out of proportion tale didn’t even begin to cover the truth of what they had done together. 

“In honor of the anniversary of this group of arschlochs finding each other, consider this to be a free day. Keep up on your readings, and if you have any questions I will be at my regular office hours tomorrow morning.” 

The students immediately started buzzing as they stood and packed. No doubt during tomorrow’s class he would have to field a whole host of questions about the Nein, and that was just the way he liked it. The day after the anniversary was the one day he would talk about what his family had done. As the class filtered out, with many a lingering glance thrown at the colorful group at the front, Caleb turned to Essek, setting the envelope with Astrid’s button in it on the table top to deal with later. 

“Would you like to teleport us to the beach, or shall I?”

Essek put up both hands. 

“I already used my spell slots getting us all back together again. You can bring us to the coast.” Essek said, his smile a mix between smug and fond. 

Caleb rolled his eyes before pulling him into a soft kiss. Then he turned to address the rest of the Nein. The family he had made for himself. 

“Are we ready?” After a series of nods, he pulled an ancient clay turtle from his pocket and gave it a squeeze. “Then let’s go!”

And they were off, to a night of drinks and celebration and stories told, and memories shared. And of course many toasts, “To another twenty years.”

[weasel-b33]

500 Miles (j.p x fem!reader)

Description: A few years after the birth of your son Harry, you and your husband James recall the beginning of your relationship. (NO VOLDY I CAN NOT DO THAT TO MYSELF) 

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, A little Swearing, idk Cute Daddy James, Prolly many spelling errors I wrote this late and I am very tired...

 (THIS IS MY FIRST TIME EVER WRITING SOMETHING KINDA SIRIUS hehe SO IM SORRY IF IT IS TERRIBLE) 

Also the dates may be a bit wrong so im sorry in advance!! 

italicized is flashback!! 

Lyrics used in the song are from “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” by The Proclaimers (I KNOW THE SONG CAME OUT IN ‘87 BUT SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF PLEASE)

(not my gif)

The rambunctious laughter of the four year-old toddler and his father echoed throughout the large estate.

“Daddy!” exclaimed the messy haired Harry, “Can I please have a story.” Heavily emphasizing the puppy dog eyes he learned from his godfather, Sirius, a few years prior.

James Potter, the man unable to say no to anyone, tried to recall a story he had not told his son. Thinking back to the fairy tales of a prince slaying a fictional dragon, even though they are very much real, to save the princess that his mother used to tell him, James realized he was all out of good material. 

“I’m sorry bubs, I have nothing new too share,” the bespectacled man added lamely. The disappointment was instant on the child’s face, but luckily before the waterworks began, Y/N Potter strolled through the foyer into the den.

“Mommy!” Harry exclaimed, jumping up and bonding over to his mother, nearly knocking her over with his brute strength.

“Umph- Where’s the fire lovey?” you questioned with a slight chuckle. The dramatics of your son were never a surprise. Between his father and Sirius, you were surprised he had not acted much worse. Walking, more like sliding due to the child gripping your calves, over to your husband and lightly pecking his lips you ask, 

“What’s wrong now?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he sheepishly stated, “I sorta don’t have a new story to tell him... he’s a bit peeved, if you couldn’t tell.”

A loud laugh tore through your throat as you pet your son’s hair affectionately.

“Come off Harry, Mommy has a perfect story to tell you,” you crooned softly.

“You do?”Harry questioned, rubbing the tears out of his stunning green eyes.

You picked him up and sat down near James, “Yes poppet, I have a very interesting story about how two very special people fell in love.” 

James quickly turned his head and quirked a questioning brow, “It all started when they were 15...” 

November 7, 1975

Quietly sitting on the vermilion couch of the Gryffindor Common Room, you began to fade out the noise of Lily ranting about the recent History of Magic exam, and Marlene’s long monologue over if she should or should not cut bangs. Instead, you were beginning to rip out each and every one of the hairs on your head because your Potions essay was nearly finished, yet you could not get those final words to conclude it all. 

Across the common room, a rowdy group of teenage boys, better known as the Marauders, were planning the newest prank on Snape. 

"We should give him that shampoo that will change his hair pink,” Sirius added.

Remus shook his head disapprovingly, “Pads, we did that last time come on..”

“WE HAVE NOTHING! WHAT IS WRONG WITH US, MOONY, HELP I’M DYING OF NO CREATIVITY!” Sirius exclaimed throwing himself across the scarred boy.

Although, many people turned their attention to the dark haired pureblood, James seemed he could not take his eyes off the girl nearly burning holes into her parchment, the girl he has fancied since he was 12. 

While playing with the snitch he stole, he said, “What if we tried that new rain spell we learned in charms today?” 

“Too difficult, we have not had enough practice.” Remus dismissed. “Well what if I found someone to practice on?” James added quickly turning to face his werewolf best friend. 

“Sure... Whatever, I could care less- Pads, get the bloody hell of me before I kick your arse,” 

“I’D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY REMUS JOHN,” Sirius yelled beginning his quick climb up the stairs to the boys dorm, with Remus and Peter quickly following.

“You comin’ Prongs?” Remus asked to the brunette still staring at the girl with shaky hands.

“No, I’ll come up in a few, still want to try to figure this prank out...” he said quietly. The lanky boy followed his best friends line of sight and quietly smirked to himself.

“Alright, don’t wear yourself out too much.” 

Even throughout the commotion, you still made no move to change your line of sight. That was until Marlene nudged you and whispered into your ear.

“Psst! Oi! Y/N! Why is Potter staring at you?” 

You quickly shook your head and waved off her question, opting to continue to find the right words.

Well until your blonde friend gripped your jaw, and turned your head to the direction of the boy. You instantly made eye-contact with the messy haired Gryffindor and quirked a brow. He smirked and turned his head away. You thought nothing of the interaction, until you felt a sudden drop above your head...

Instantly, it seemed as though there was a storm in the common room. Looking towards the ceiling you saw the dark rain cloud above your head. Quickly turning your head to the essay you were writing you noticed it completely wet and ruined. You jumped into action, trying to salvage what you could, but it was too late. Ignoring the screeches of your friends and fellow housemates, you began to look for the source of the cloud.

That was until you made eye contact with the laughing and smug James Potter.

“POTTER!” you yelled. Almost immediately the rain stopped, but the damage had been done. “JAMES POTTER! YOU BETTER HAVE A REASON YOU STARTED A STORM IN THE COMMON ROOM!” 

Hearing the commotion, the rest of the Marauders came down to the common room to witness what was happening. But all they saw was a yelling match between you and their brunette best friend.

“YOU ARE A DICK JAMES POTTER! KARMA IS A BITCH AND SHE IS COMING! IT’S GONNA BE SO NICE TO SEE YOUR FACE WHEN ALL YOUR ACTIONS FINALLY COME TO KICK YOU IN THE ARSE!” you yelled.

“What? I did nothing, I don’t mean to dampen your mood, but I have no idea what you are on about.” James replies smugly.

“UGH- YOU ARE A BULLY AND A RIGHTEOUS, STUCK UP, EGOTISTICAL ARSEHOLE! I HOPE YOU ARE ENJOYING THIS BECAUSE-- OH MY! I-” You were quickly being dragged away by your red head companion. 

“Y/N, he is not worth it... let’s just leave.” 

“NO! I HAVE TO RESTART MY ESSAY! I WAS THIS BLOODY CLOSE. UGH- YOU ARE AN ARSE JAMES POTTER I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT!”

“Y/N, it was just a prank, its no big deal relax.” James said.

“RELAX! ARE YOU KIDDING... I-” you paused taking shallow and rapid breaths, ‘you know I can not believe you think its funny. You truly have no regard for people and how they feel do you?” you asked slowly and meticulously. 

“Prongs, just apologize and lets go..” Remus said quickly.

“I- I didn’t realize it would be that big of a deal.” James tried to say to you, but it was no use because you had already dragged Lily and Marlene out the common room and to the library to re-start your assignment. 

“Oh, COME ON! I did not” James stated jokingly.

“Darling, you must certainly did, I barley passed that essay as well. I blame you for me getting an E in that class.” You replied giggling.

“Moooommmyyy! Story, get back to the story,” Your son said dramatically, grabbing your cheeks and turning to face him for extra effect.

Hearing a chuckling from James in the background, “Alright bubs, back to the the story”

January 23, 1976

After months of back and forth between you and James, he was fed up trying to get your attention. From roses to chocolate, to even a firework show in your honor, James believed he had done everything to apologize to you for his stupid prank and prove his affection.

Tired of his friends constant whining, Remus and Sirius decided to take matters into their own hands and talk to someone who knew you better than anyone else, Lily and Marlene.

“Oh Evans, Mckinnon, we are in grave need of your beautiful minds” Sirius flirted. Remus smacked him across the head adding, “Ignore the git, we need some help its about-”

“James?” Lily and Marlene said in unison.

“Yeah...how did you know” Remus questioned. “Are we gonna ignore the fact they spoke at the same time” Sirius said, once again receiving a blow from his friend.

Rolling her eyes, Lily remarked, “Well, Y/N has been complaining about him for months,” Marlene quickly interjected, “...and you never are without him so its an easy assumption. 

Now its was the boys turn to roll their eyes to the back of their heads. “Anyways, he will not shut up about getting her to forgive him... so we were wondering if you had anything that could work to get her to forgive him?” Remus pleaded with the best Sirius puppy dog eyes he could muster.

“Fine,” Lily and Marlene said jointly.

“THEY DID IT AGAI- OH NOT YOU TOO AS WELL!” Sirius exclaimed rubbing the now sore bump on his head. 

Ignoring the dog’s dramatics, the group of four began conducting a plan for James that would knock Y/N’s socks off.

At this point, Harry had nestled between his parents and fell into a deep sleep.

The two of you put him to bed and settle down back into the living room.

Looking longingly at his wife, James says, “Well, might as well finish the story love... it is the best part.”

Giggling at the antics of your husband, you shrug and began to finish the story...

February 14, 1976 

The Great Hall looked as though Cupid had just went on a decorating rampage. The room lined with pink and red hearts and the sight of loving couples nearly made you want to gag. Then, you remembered the boy who has dying to get your attention for the past months and can not seem but to get excited.

What does he have planned for you? Is he gonna get me a gift? Do I look presentable? 

“WHAT!” you quickly think to yourself, “Why in Merlin’s name am I excited to to see Jame- Potter. Godric I can’t feel like this for him... He his as a fly that buzzes and will not leave me alone... but he is not the worst to look at”

You quickly snap out of your thoughts as Lily starts to put food onto your plate. You begin to eat, but can only think of one thing.

James Potter.

“Why?” You begin questioning again, “Godric, Y/N You like him... No I do not.. You realize you are having this whole conversation within your brain, right? It is obvious you like him...” you grumble to yourself as you realize your psyche has won once again.

Lily noticing your strange behavior begins to question if you discovered what they have planned. 

Almost as though the boys heard Lily’s thoughts the beginning of the plan is activated.

Instantly, the candles in all of the Great Hall extinguish and there is the beginning of a song plays.

Suddenly, a spotlight shines onto the teachers table where atop, James and the rest of the Marauders stand, Remus and Sirius with guitars and Peter on the drums. James holding a mic begins to sing...

When I wake up, Well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.

Your head snaps to the noise and there you see in all of his glory, James Potter holding a microphone staring straight at you.

When I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who goes along.

Quickly shoving the breakfast roll down your throat you nearly choke as you see the boy slowly make his way towards the front of the Gryffindor table.

When I get drunk, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you.

Your eyes widen comically when you see James Potter jump onto the Gryffindor table. 

And when I haver, hey I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who's havering to you.

Slowly, the boy begins his walk across the table to where you sit. You try to make a run for it, but Lily and Marlene quickly grab your arms and anchor you down to the bench 

“What friends you are!” you hiss at the two.

Marlene just rolls her eyes and Lily pinches your hip.

And I would roll 500 miles And I would roll 500 more Just to be the man who rolls a thousand miles To fall down at your door

Once the boy is standing in front of you he reaches down for your hand. Stubbornly, you ignore his gesture, well until your two friends throw you up onto the table with the love struck brunette. 

When I come home well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you And when I grow old, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you.

You grip onto the boys biceps for stability and are forced to look into his ravishing hazel eyes...

In that moment you forget all that he has done to you in the past and all you can think about is him and you. 

But I would roll 500 miles And I would roll 500 more Just to be the man who roles a thousand miles To fall down at your door.

Smiling, to yourself, you grab the face of the boy in front of you and mold your lips together. Ignoring the cheers of your classmates, the only sounds you hear are the background noise of the boy’s best friends signing backup. 

Da da da  Da da da                                                                                                            Da Da Dun Diddle                                                                                            Un Diddle Un Diddle Uh Da Da.....

Smiling to yourself and grabbing the hand of the man you love you start laughing.

“What’s so funny, love?” James asks.

“Nothing.... Just we began dating because you performed a whole song and dance in front of the entirety of Hogwarts.” you reply breathlessly.

“Well, hey, look at us now... happy, healthy, and a true family.” he replies smiling at your antics.

You lay down your head into the lap of your husband, and look up into his hazel eyes you got lost into all those years ago, “Such a sap, Potter, such a sap...”

Kissing your cheek softly, “Only for you, my darling girl... only for you...” 

“I love you Jamie”

“I love you more, my love.”            ______________________________________________________________

AHHH I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!! IM SORRY IF IT IS SO BAD!! THIS IS MY FIRST FIC PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I COULD DO ANYTHING BETTER!!! AHHHH (but like kinda like this story... kinda proud ;))

[redbeansoups]

Curiosity

Kaminari Denki x Reader

Includes: fluff, angst, hurt w/o comfort, implied cheating, mentions of alcohol

In which you and Kaminari Denki grow too comfortable in your routines, and weary eyes begin to wander.

Or, Kaminari Denki falls out of love.

***

“I want to marry you.”

His voice is firm, clear, confident. “One day, when we’re older.” Your hands are in his, clasped between the grip of his fingers, enveloped in a warm, lasting pressure. “We’ll get a house together, and a dog, and then we’ll get married.” He pulls you closer–and he’s warm, infectiously so, smiling down at you in a silent plea.

You feel his certainty in every possible way. 

So you smile.

“Of course, Denki,” you whisper, heart fluttering.

He chuckles, kissing your forehead. You feel the vibrations of his chest against your own, strong and deep and grounding. “Then it’s a promise,” he says. 

You want to hold him to his words. But the memory, prevalent as it is, always seems to present itself in faded reddish-browns, like a story scrawled in sepia-tinted fonts. The longer you dwell on it, replay it in your head, the faster it disintegrates and turns to dust. 

Before you know it, it slips away between your fingertips. His promise trickles down and out of your reach, until, finally, you can no longer call it your own.

***

You’d always known him to be yours. Everyone had; the inseparable highschool duo, ever-paired together. Your friends never invited one of you without dragging along the other. He’d met you as a first-year, and had immediately pestered the homeroom teacher to let him sit by your side. The poor woman had had no choice but to comply, relenting only after months of the boy’s pleads. 

He’d loved you, right from the start. Kaminari Denki showered you in affection, in handwritten notes and personalized gifts. Wide-eyed and charismatic, he’d done everything just right.

It was the half-hidden glances he shot you when he thought no-one was looking, the grin he reserved just for you, the way he’d pull you close to him every day without fail; it was the way he lit up at the sight of you and radiated with excitement at your very mention. Kaminari was earnest, and infectiously so.

How could you resist?

Dating Kaminari turned out to be an adventure. He’d drag you left and right on his antics—dared you to push your own limits as he did his. He’d take you on midnight drives, morning treks, call you over at the crack of dawn for nothing more than a hug. 

You were the careful, calculating counterpart to his thrill-seeking habits, to impulse and grandeur. 

He loved excitement, experiences, exploration.

You loved him.

A part of you knew, though, that you’d never quite be able to keep up.

***

“What will you do after highschool?”

It was a question you’d begun to hear increasingly frequently. An emotionally-charged inconvenience, the words tasted like uncertainty and distress, the budding woes of a soon-to-end highschool career.

“Go to university,” was always your answer, ever-practical. Every time without fail, you’d grimace at the words. 

His own response, though, was easier. Lighter.

“Beats me,” he’d chuckle, eyes crinkling as his lips turned upward in a smile. He’d sling an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close to his chest. “We’ll figure it out together, won’t we?” he’d say, grinning smugly down at you.

Heart beating, you’d roll your eyes and push him away. “Yeah, yeah.” 

Together.

Fearfully, you clung to the word.

***

The two of you throw your caps together at graduation. The navy-blue headwear drifts in the gentle spring air before landing gently at your feet, rustling the grass beneath you. Around you, people are crying. You’re tearing up yourself, but Kaminari is quite the opposite, a bundle of pure joy and glee. 

“We did it,” he whispers.

You nod.

You cling to his side throughout the festivities, greeting all your friends with your hand interlaced with his own. Kirishima and Sero, eager as ever, have already begun begging to join Kaminari as his groomsmen. 

Kaminari takes it all in stride, cackling all the while. “Bakugou’s the ring boy, then.”

“Like hell I am!” he snarls. In an instant, the two boys have begun an impromptu wrestling match.

You laugh; beside you, Ashido and Jirou do the same.

The antics are familiar, easy. They feel like any other day–yet a sense of finality hangs over you all. The air weighs heavy with the bittersweet realization.

“This is really it, huh?” Ashido mutters, sniffling.

Kirishima sighs. “Yeah.” His eyes are round, shining. “God, can you imagine? We’re gonna be adults.”

“We’ll have jobs,” Sero says, brows furrowed. “We’ll live on our own and pay taxes or whatever.”

Ashido sticks her tongue out. “Yuck.” Another chorus of laughter rings out, and most of the group continues on with the conversation. 

Jirou, though, remains quiet. Lips pursed, she turns to you, gaze demanding attention. 

“You’ll be moving in together, won’t you?” she asks.

You nod. 

“Big commitment,” she remarks. “You sure he’s ready for it?”

You know Jirou, trust her, immensely. But she’s always been Kaminari’s friend–a constant in his life, but never quite your own. They’d been friends long before you’d met him, and they’d stayed that way through the years.

You expect that will never change.

You chuckle. “Well, he’s the one pushing for it. You know him–can’t exactly change his mind when it’s made up.”

“Guess not.” She smiles up at you, lips turned sweetly up at the corners. But there’s something more in her eyes; something distant, wistful. In an instant, though, it’s gone–replaced instead by a look you assume is sincerity. “I’m happy for you two,” she tells you.

The smile widens.

Somewhat uneasy, you smile back.

***

Your shared apartment is cluttered from the very start, an explosion of personal trinkets and accumulated belongings. You opt for separate rooms, a decision you’d made with work and study in mind. You liked peace and quiet, and two rooms seemed a better choice–

Though, as both of you quickly learned, that didn’t stop you from sleeping in his arms every night.

Your studies proceed as expected; smooth and easy, you breeze by your courses without any trouble. Kaminari finds himself part-time work nearby, a little cafe a block or two away. Things are comfortable–you fall into a routine, stable and calm.

Calm, though, has never quite fit him.

Kaminari has always sought the thrill. 

***

Things grow busier over time. Schoolwork has you keeling over, bending backward at every moment, rushing to get your work done. The two of you, slowly but surely, grow apart; your routine no longer involves nightly cuddles, but weekly ones; your interactions gradually shrink down into practically nothing.

He tries, of course; he’ll pop his head into your room, ask you to come out, to go for a bike ride, to hang out with him and watch a movie–but crunchtime is brutal, and things never quite work out as you’d like.

You wish things could be easier.

But life, as you learn, slows down for no-one.

***

After a long day, you want nothing more than to see your boyfriend. You want his arms, his embrace, his words–attention, plain and simple.

But Kaminari, as of late, has seemed unkeen to deliver.

You think to go and see him, but there’s a sign up on his door. Busy, it reads, letters written in a bold red. 

You disregard them, and walk on in.

“I’m going to bed,” you tell him.

He hardly looks at you as you enter, hardly acknowledges your movements; his focus lies elsewhere, drowned in the blue light of the monitor. There’s a smile there, creeping on his lips, a child-like wonder sparkling in his eyes as his avatar jumps and swerves before him, each movement meticulously trained, controller clutched firmly in hand.

You’ve become familiar with the sight.

“Hell yeah,” he cries suddenly, fist clenched with excitement. “You saw that, didn’t you, Kyo?”

You sigh.

“Denki,” you call again, louder this time. The sound reverbs in your chest, pouring out of your throat; pained, like a wallow.

He continues. You stand there, back against the doorway, arms across your chest. 

Finally, he stops. The pause menu appears on-screen, and he swivels around, chair spinning delicately on its wheels–

But he’s frowning, eyebrows furrowed as he tugs his headphones down. They hang over his neck and radiate a faint glow on each side. “Yeah?”

“I was saying,” you mumble, “I’m going to–”

“I heard you the first time,” he says blankly. 

“It’s late, Denki. Don’t you want to sleep?”

“Not now.” Another dull reply.

You sigh, run a hand through your hair. “I miss you,” you admit.

“Me too–but not now, okay?” His lips turn upward–but the smile he gives you is forced. “I’m not sleepy. Maybe tomorrow.” Then, without another word, he swivels back around, slides his headphones into place, and resumes the game.

You shut the door and tuck yourself into an empty bed, trying to ignore his cheers, his voice–

And the voice, inevitably, at the other end of the line.

***

He goes out more now; bar-hopping, he tells you, with highschool friends. Kirishima and Sero and Bakugou and Ashido, you presume. Privately, you wonder why he never offers to bring you along like he used to. 

You’re busy, though. You suppose it doesn’t matter–

Until, one night, he doesn’t come home.

It takes ten frantic tries to reach anyone at all; Ashido and Sero both seem not to notice your calls at all. Even Bakugou, the reliable one of the bunch, doesn’t seem to have his phone on him.

It’s Kirishima that finally picks up, his greeting slurred and dopey. “Whazzup!” 

You sigh. “Ei, is Denki with you?”

“Huh?” Almost instantly, his voice has cleared up. “Isn’t he with you?”

“He’s not.”

“He said he was going home–wait, I’ll text the group and ask…” There’s some fumbling on the other end of the line, followed by some rustling. “Shoot, we left the bar ages ago too–”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Just.. let me know if anyone gets back to you.”

“Yeah, for sure.” His voice is breathy, uncertain. “He usually gets home fine–I really don’t know, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Eijirou. Thank you.” 

You hang up. Another hour passes–but not knowing what else to do, you shut your eyes and drift off to sleep.

***

You awake to a buzz from your phone. The screen illuminates the ceiling over you; the only remaining source of light.

Denki’s with me, the text reads.

It’s Jirou.

The text fills you with a weird sensation–a foreign taste, somewhere between relief and apprehension. A bitter flavor treads on your tongue.

Thank goodness, you type back. Is he okay?

Plastered, but he’s fine. Should I call him a cab? There’s a pause before her next text. I can take him tonight, if you want. My couch is free.

You ponder the thought. A part of you wants him home, wants him where you can see him. You aren’t even sure why he’d be at Jirou’s in the first place, and the thought fills you with unease. You want to drag him home, question him–

One glance at the clock, though, convinces you otherwise.

Could you watch over him tonight? I’ll come and get him tomorrow.

Another pause. Then, a reply.

Okay :)

You exhale and, tossing the covers over yourself, fall back into restless sleep.

***

You leave to retrieve him the next day. Jirou’s flat is a long journey over, and trek leaves you feeling unsettled. Still, your worry drags you out of bed and across town, coat wrapped firmly around you.

The walk, smack in the middle of winter, is far too cold for your liking. 

Jirou meets you by the front door, and welcomes you in before you can even move to knock. “Long time no see,” she says, smiling, pulling you into a hug. She looks better than ever–her face is shining. There’s a happiness in her eyes that is unfamiliar, even to you.

“You look good,” you tell her.

“So do you,” she says–a bluff, certainly. In your disheveled, crestfallen state, you’re sure you look anything but. “He’s still asleep, he’s in the living room… Oh, here.” The girl reaches over to her dining table and hands you a steaming cup of tea. “You must be freezing.”

You smile. “Thanks, Kyouka.”

Just then, an all-too-familiar groan resonates through the room. Kaminari emerges from the couch, bedhead on prominent display, shoulders slouched and slunken. His shirt is crinkled in odd places.

The alcohol, clearly, has gotten to him.

You grimace.

***

You ride the train back home, not willing to brave the cold. Kaminari, still much too hungover to think, seems to appreciate the decision.

The train is crowded when it arrives. The day occurs to you then–Saturday, right at the peak of rush hour. You hustle your boyfriend into the cart and hurriedly rush him into the last remaining seat. 

The train chugs to a start, and you clutch onto the handlebars above you. You watch as Kaminari leans his head back, a soft groan escaping his lips.

The sight annoys you. 

You lean your torso forward to bring yourself closer to him. “Why were you at Kyouka’s in the first place?” you ask, voice just above a whisper.

Kaminari tilts his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are sunken, tired. “Just wanted to see her,” he mumbles. “Haven’t seen her in ages.”

You sigh. 

“You worried me, Denki.”

“I was fine–”

“No,” you snap, cutting him off. “You didn’t even tell me you were going out,” you half-hiss, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. The anger, though, is building, tingling in your chest and fingertips, right on the edge of your tongue. “I sat at home waiting for you to come home, not knowing where you were or who the hell you were with. I had to ask Kirishima where you were–and, apparently, you told him you went home.” You can feel the heat welling in your eyes, threatening to spill. “Is that home to you, Denki? Her couch?”

He doesn’t meet your gaze. “Sorry.”

You exhale and lean back, resting your weight back on your heels. The rest of the ride back is silent. 

***

The next few days are tight, tense. There’s an anger you can’t quite quell, a thirst for something you can’t quite quench. You’re torn between wanting an explanation, an apology, a remorseful embrace assuring you things will be different–

But he goes out the next weekend, and the next, and eventually on the weekdays you once spent in each others’ arms. He fails, over and over, to come home, and all you can do now is try your best to ignore the click of the front door at dawn.

Spite. That’s the feeling now. You’re spiteful, vengeful, you want more out of him and less at the same time–but you don’t protest. You keep your lips tightly sealed, and move on with your life. You spend meals apart, nights separate, days distant and alone.

You fall into another routine–a colder, lonelier one. Sometimes, behind his back, you catch glimpses of his belongings; the worn winter jackets, the strewn contents of an overnight bag, the notifications from the girl you have always known–

You wonder if, in her presence, he finds the same thrill he once did in you.

***

A/N: went through a really rough spot. my feelings culminated in this monstrosity–it’s been a while, but i hope the writing was okay :)

also, i love jirou. very, very, very much. i didn’t mean to throw her under the bus here. i like to think the reader’s insecurities got to them, and that the cheating didnt actually happen, but that’s always open to interpretation.

[jayeray-hq]

How He Shows You Affection: Tsukishima Kei

Post Time Skip/Manga Spoilers!

Warnings: None All Fluff!

How He Shows You Affection Master List - Character Masterlist

This was requested by an anon who asked for both Tsukishima and Kita Shinsuke! I hope you like it anon. I have to admit I’m not the biggest fan of Tsukishima, but I hope I did him justice! 😭🥺, also huge thank you to @haikyuu-addict​ for beta reading for me you’re amazing!

He Teases You

You grimaced slightly as you stared up at the mug on the highest shelf of the cabinet pushed all the way to the back. It was going to be an incredible hassle to reach it, and a part of you wondered briefly if it would even be worth it to try. After all you had plenty of other mugs in your kitchen. It was just, that happened to be your favorite mug, it had actually been a gag gift from your boyfriend, and read ‘you’re my favorite pain in the ass’ written in his neat precise calligraphy.

However, to his shock you actually loved the mug, mostly because it was the absolute perfect size to make your favorite hot beverage in, something he’d later been smugly satisfied about as if that had been the intention all along even if you both knew it wasn’t. You’d been craving your favorite drink all day, and had been set to make yourself a nice hot cup when you’d gotten home from work, only to open up the cabinets and find your mug completely out of reach.

             Staring at it you had to wonder if he’d done it on purpose. It was honestly a toss-up with Tsukishima, sometimes he did things like this just because he thought it was funny to watch you struggle, and other times he just genuinely forgot that if he put things on the very top shelves you wouldn’t be able to reach without some form of aid. Usually you’d simply ask him to get it for you, even if he would spend a good deal of time teasing you about it, he never actually said no, and you’d learned to put up with the teasing after years of knowing him and being in a relationship with him.

             Unfortunately, Tsukishima wasn’t home yet, still at practice with the Sendai Frogs, which meant you were on your own. You considered going to get the step stool that was tucked away neatly in the hall closet, which was for these exact kinds of situations, but in the end decided you were too lazy to walk over and get it and decided to climb up on to the counter instead.

             You were a bit precariously balanced, but you figured it would be fine as you leaned into the cupboard, your fingers scrabbling for the handle of the mug that was just barely out of your reach.

             “Oya what’s this?”

             You’d been so caught up in your quest that you hadn’t heard the door open or you boyfriend’s arrival into the kitchen. His words startled you enough to make you jolt slightly, making you lose your balance a bit, one of your arms pinwheeling to keep you from slipping backwards off the counter. Luckily Tsukishima had always had incredibly quick reflexes, and he immediately stepped forward, his hands finding your waist and steadying you easily.

             “Clumsy,” he scolded, clear disapproval on his face as he gently tugged you backwards and helped you set your feet firmly back on to the floor, “Just what are you trying to do shortcake?”

             “I was trying to get my mug,” you told him with a huff, even as some of the annoyance you felt for him startling you faded away with the familiar nickname, one that was part teasing you for being shorter than him, and another part fondness after his favorite food, though it didn’t keep you from pouting at him as you explained, “Someone put it up where I can’t reach it.”

             “Oh?” he asked a teasing grin curling his lips, making his golden eyes glint in amusement, as he moved over to where you had been, easily plucking the mug from its resting place without even needing to stand on his toes to reach it before turning to you and asking smugly, “You mean this mug?”

             “Yes, that mug,” you told him holding your hand out for it, fully expecting him to hand it over.

             “I don’t know if I should give it to you,” he told you with a wicked grin, “After all you nearly broke your neck trying to get it, and didn’t even greet me properly when I got home I don’t think that kind of behavior deserves a reward.”

             “Kei,” you whined at him reaching for it, only to have him hold it up out of your reach, high above your head, “I need it.”

 He didn’t relent to your whining, only smirked in clear amusement as you stood on your toes trying to reach before eventually giving up.

 “Mean,” you informed him with a huff.

 “Calling me mean,” he goaded lightly, “And after I saved you from tumbling off the counter too. Maybe you should try asking nicely instead of just trying to take it from me hmm?”

 You huffed a sigh, unable to help the slight amusement that curled your lips, well used to his teasing and with a pretty good idea of what he wanted, the same thing he always wanted when he teased you like this.

 You stepped forward into his space and wrapped your arms around his neck and tilting your face upwards. He met you partway, his lips warm and soft against your own, even as they curled upwards clearly pleased.

 “Please can I have my mug Kei?” you murmured against his lips nuzzling your nose affectionately against his.

 He heaved a sigh as if completely put out by your request, but relented, passing the mug over to you, “Alright shortcake, but only this once and only because you asked so nicely.”

 You giggled at that, both of you well aware he didn’t mean it in the slightest as you stepped away humming happily about finally being able to get the drink you craved. You made enough for the both of you, feeling warm under the amused, fond gaze of your boyfriend.

 He Flicks/Pokes You in the Forehead

             You frowned in consternation, your arms crossed across your chest as you tried to make your decision glancing back and forth between the two choices in front of you, running your fingers over the fine material, and eyeing the pretty patterns. You couldn’t make up your mind about which to buy, and couldn’t help fretting about it.

             “Ouch!” you yipped in surprise your hands automatically dropping the scarves back on to the table and coming up to press to your forehead as you shot an indignant wounded look at your boyfriend who’d just flicked you right in the center of your forehead.

             “Kei,” you whined at him unhappily gently rubbing the abused spot, “What was that for?”

             “You’re worrying too much,” he informed you bluntly, a bored drawl to his voice, “Just pick one already.”

             “I just want her to like it,” you told him with a slight pout eyeing the scarves again, “Why don’t you choose if you think it’s so easy?”

             “My mother already loves you,” he informed you with a sigh, “So she’ll love whatever you get for her, because it’s from you.”

             “Even if that’s true, I still want her to like it and be able to wear it,” you informed him obstinately, as you picked up the two pretty scarves you’d been eying again and held them out toward him, “And you could try being a little more helpful Kei, she’s your mom after all, shouldn’t you know her best? Why don’t you pick?”

             Your boyfriend heaved a sigh that was half annoyance half exasperated fondness as he looked at you and drawled, “Weren’t you the one who said you could do it without my help earlier?”

             You flushed at that. It was the truth after all, your boyfriend had been playfully teasing you earlier about getting his mother’s birthday gift for her, and purposefully wound you up to the point that you’d blurted out that you’d pick out and pay for the gift yourself and it would serve him right if you didn’t even bother to put his name on it.

             As per usual he’d been deeply amused by this, and had insisted on accompanying you to go on your expedition to find the perfect gift. Unfortunately, it had been incredibly slow going, as while you did like his mother a lot, the woman was nothing but kind and welcoming whenever you saw her, you didn’t actually know her all that well. It was only pure luck that you’d remembered she had complimented your scarf the last time you were there and had vaguely mentioned wanting something like that for her own.

             “Don’t frown so much you’ll get wrinkles,” your boyfriend told you gently poking you in the forehead, in a slightly softer version of the flick he’d used earlier. It was something he’d been doing since the two of you had started dating, gently flicking or poking your forehead whenever he needed to catch your attention or whenever he thought you were frowning too much.

             He always teased that you were going to get wrinkles, or that if you continued to try to think so hard your brain would melt out of your ears. It never failed to distract you from whatever was worrying you, or upsetting you and he knew it. It was honestly probably the whole reason he did it in the first place, his own way of showing concern and taking care of you, that was rather cute, not that you’d ever tell him that.

             “Go with the blue,” he told you tapping his finger against your forehead and pulling your from your thoughts, heaving a sigh as if incredibly put upon as he explained, “It’s her favorite color.”

             “Thanks Kei,” you told him with a grin, unable to help yourself, in the face of his affection.

             “Yeah, yeah,” he waved you off with an amused smirk, “Just don’t forget to put my name on it too.”

             You huffed a laugh at that but agreed, feeling pleased both with your gift and with your boyfriend, who really was sweet, even if he went out of his way to hide it.

 He Seeks Out Your Company

             You sighed quietly to yourself as you looked over your project. You weren’t quite finished with it yet, but you felt like you’d made good progress on it in the last hour or so. Feeling rather pleased with yourself, you stretched lazily, letting your eyes flick over the room, taking it in. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on your lips as you saw your boyfriend sitting in the arm chair next to you.

             He was fast asleep, his eyes closed and his head tilted back, his arms folded across his chest as he snoozed away. You could hear the faint, tinny sound of music from the headphones in his ears, clearly still playing something despite the wearer clearly no longer paying attention. It didn’t look at all comfortable, especially since he still had his glasses on, and his neck was at an odd angle resting on the back of the chair.

             You couldn’t help the warm feeling that surged through you as you looked at him though. Tsukishima was a bit of an introvert by nature, despite how confident he acted around groups of people and his slightly caustic attitude. The people he was genuinely comfortable with were fairly limited and the people whose company he actually enjoyed could be counted on his hands with fingers left over.

             You were among the privileged few whose company he not only enjoyed, but who he actively sought out. He never drew attention to it, and it was incredibly subtle, but whenever you were both home at the same time he was almost always in the same room as you. You didn’t have to be interacting at all, in fact most of the time you’d be preoccupied and would suddenly look up to find him in the vicinity, usually listening to music or reading a book.

             It wasn’t just at home either. Whenever you happened to be in the same vicinity as one another Tsukishima almost always gravitated to your side within the first five minutes of your arrival. He tended to use you, both as a shield and a bit of an excuse to not speak with anyone he found distasteful, insisting that he preferred your presence to the rest of the unwashed masses.

             It never failed to make you feel soft and utterly loved whenever he did it, though you would never actually point it out or draw attention to it, well aware it would only make him defensive and hissy. Honestly, he was a bit like a cat that way, something Yamaguchi had pointed out to you when the two of you had first started dating and you’d asked the other man for advice. He’d told you to let Tsukishima do things on his own terms, and to treat him a bit like a standoffish feline, and it hadn’t failed you yet.

             Carefully you stood up from your spot, and made your way over, well aware he was a bit of a light sleeper. He looked far more innocent in sleep that you would’ve guessed when you first met him, without the flashing golden eyes and the ever-present smirk on his face. It was a vulnerability he only showed to a trusted few and you were honored to be among them.

             Gently, you pulled his glasses from his face, folding them neatly and setting them nearby where he could easily spot them once he woke, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. He may try to hide it, but he really did have a sweet side to him, even if he could be incredibly salty at times and you couldn’t be happier to call him your boyfriend.

[reidecorating]

Like Ivy

Request: “Being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me.” and “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” I’m thinking something Christmas-y with Reid - Anon

A/N: I do apologise for procrastinating on getting this out, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t terrible. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, my present to you is the longest fic I have ever written. I had so much fun writing it so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Happy holidays <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Best friends yearning & best friends pining - but make it festive. Entails Secret Santa, the classic penny behind the ear and waltzing.

Warnings: Fluff, proceed with caution :)

The Cathedral of Santa Maria. Spencer had finally put his finger on it. The small glass dome encasing a building, with doors small enough to allow entrance to ladybugs who may practice religion, adorned unmistakable timely Italian architecture and ornamented pine trees, all dusted with flitters of snow. For the past week, Spencer had caught sight of the trinket each time he wandered past where it sat, as one of the few other decorations surrounding the name plate displaying in gold Times New Roman ‘DAVID ROSSI’, on the often unoccupied desk. So, he gathered that it must be important. Filing away his final stack of paperwork for the night, a silver paperclip glistening in the artificial light, Spencer made a mental note to ask the man about it the next morning. Standing from his usual office chair slouch, he stretched his limbs, feeling a series of clicks in his back as he regained his posture, only to bend back down in reach of his satchel. He made his way home giving tight lipped smiles of encouragement to the few agents sprinkled about the room, working over time. Haphazardly, he pushed the arrow pointing downwards with a cardigan clad elbow. As if on queue, his phone buzzed to the simultaneous ‘ding’ of the lift. 

I understand you’re nocturnal, but I hope you’ve gotten home by now! If not, text me when you do so, safely :) 

He didn’t realise he was grinning from ear to ear until an aggravated looking bureau member from a floor above, evidently itching to get home, cleared his throat to gain Spencer’s attention. “Sorry,” he grimaced. Noticing the button for the ground floor having already been lit up, Spencer stepped inside and stood as far away, as was possible in the small space, from the rankled looking man and his briefcase. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he remembered you, two years, three months and seventeen days ago - not that he was counting - offering him cherry scented hand sanitiser from a small bottle, and, only after he’d nodded, gently grasping the tips of his fingers to steady his shaking hand as you poured the gelid liquid into his palm. The act was so pure he chose against telling you that while alcohol based hand sanitisers reduce the number of microbes on hands in some situations, they don’t eliminate all types of germs - making soap and water the most effective way to go. Since then, you occupied his thoughts in the same way ivy grew along bricks of long forgotten towers. In abundance, in the most beautiful way. He turned his attention back to the tiny mobile he was holding. 

On my way right now. I have a date with microwaved leftovers at midnight, can’t miss it. Will do. 

The next time his phone buzzed was when he’d dozed off on the way home, using the concave pane of a metro window as a shoulder to lean against. He waited until his feet landed on the uneven pavement of his stop to open it. 

Tomorrow you have a date with a properly cooked meal, at mine. What is it that Hotch always says? That’s an order, not a request. 

Spencer’s heartbeat quickened as he read what you had written, his brain immediately carrying variables in an effort to slow it down by convincing himself that friends make each other feel this way. However, when he counted the rose flush on his cheeks and nose whenever you were around, the looks you shared which said more than words ever could and the way you held each other nearer than the distance between the sky and the ocean where they met at the horizon after close calls and mentally grappling cases, it didn’t quite equate to being just friends. Dwindling leaves clinging to their branches shuddered as scissors of winter wind pruned the trees scattered about. Spencer’s pale hands slid into his coat pockets, hiding from frostbite. On the short walk to his apartment, he admired the twinkling lights on either side of the streets, feeling as if he were a plane which had just landed upon a runway in the night. Candy canes, reindeer and eccentric portrayals of Santa Claus glowed amongst bushes and on porches, making Spencer wish you were there to see them too. It wasn’t rare he found himself wanting to share everything he did with you. Pretty things made him think of you. Eventually reaching the familiar building, tiredly, he followed wreaths and holly all the way to his undecorated apartment door. 

You? Cooking? I’ll bring a fire extinguisher. Home safe. Goodnight, sleep well. 

He kept his promise, despite seeing the time was nearing to one in the morning and being doubtful you were still awake. 

Hilarious :/ and I will, knowing you’re alive. Goodnight Spencer :) 

Spencer coveted for nights when he could tell you goodnight from right beside you, perhaps with his hand draped around your waist while yours tugged at his hair. He wanted to fall asleep to the scent of your skin and whatever soap you’d picked up from the store that week, not the quiet hum of his vintage fan. His microwave beeped, acting as an alarm to return down to earth from the clouds, presenting him with far less than gourmet potatoes. Realising he would take your burnt cooking over this any day, he settled for a sandwich.

 ∗∗∗

“Did you know that snowglobes were invented in France. They were first introduced as ‘water globes’ at the Paris Expedition Fair in 1889, and, to no surprise, the first snow globe actually contained a tiny scaled Eiffel Tower covered in snow,” Spencer lectured, almost putting the two agents who had struggled enough to get out of bed, back to sleep. The days were slow. Annual leave for a majority of the bureau was looming nearer and files kept them busy as the jet gathered dust. “Glad to hear the French contributed something, other than their opprobrium of a language, to this world,” Emily complained, from her desk. “Well, baguettes… Croissants, parachutes… Aspirin-“ Spencer was halted by the unimpressed look on Rossi’s face, as he hovered on the edge of Spencer’s table, a bushy eyebrow raised in vexation. “What’s with all this talk of snowglobes, kid?” The older man squinted at Spencer, craning his neck towards this, the way he did to suspects behind the glass of an interrogation room. “Since you brought it up,” he smiled smugly, swivelling in his chair from one side to another. “What’s the story behind the Santa Maria sitting on your desk?”

“Yeah, the eighties have come and gone, Rossi, isn’t it a bit late for repentance?” Emily let out a sly smile, walking over to also lean against Spencer’s desk with a steaming mug in hand. “It was a gift from my grandmother, handmade, I take it out every Christmas to help get in the festive mood,” Rossi explained. “Also, that was very funny Emily but now… I can’t help but recall what Garcia told me about the time you got a little tipsy and licked peanut butter off J-” 

“No one told me it was National Congregate Around Spencer Reid’s Desk Day today.” The three agents turned their heads in unison to find who the voice belonged to, Spencer’s breath hitching at the sight of you. You stood before them, an upturned magician’s hat in hand, semi-curious as to what the ending of Rossi’s sentence would have been if it weren’t for you interrupting. “Y/N!” Emily waved, flashing a smile. “You’ve taken an interest in magic and didn’t even think to tell me,” Spencer feigned a hurt look. “Spencer, I knew magic wasn’t for me after I did the card trick you taught me, wrong . Six times,”

“It was seven. Plus, the student is never as good as the teacher,” he suppressed a smile. “Or maybe the teacher just isn’t good,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little hostile, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Spencer defended himself, putting his hands in the air. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief as if to say ‘we know something that you don’t’ when they met yours. Emily’s jaw dropped. “That… Didn’t sound suggestive at all,” Rossi pursed his lips in concern, looking back and forth between the pair of furiously blushing agents. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” you winked at Rossi. Basking in the radiance of your laughter washing over him like the sun, Spencer chuckled along. “Anyway, what’s with the hat?” Emily questioned. “This,” you shook it by its brim, “contains the remaining names for this year’s Secret Santa, courtesy of Miss Penelope Garcia. I was just ordered to present it to you all. She calls it being her ‘little elf’ - I call it unpaid manual labour - but pick a name, any name,” you encouraged. You watched as Spencer’s tongue comically poked out as he eagerly concentrated on picking a name, elbow bent at a worrying angle. “I just want to say that every time I get a gift that isn’t alcohol, I’m slightly disappointed,” Emily turned to you as it was her turn to fish for a piece of paper. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you grinned at her. You watched Rossi’s expression as his eyes skimmed the name in his hands. “Oh, and Rossi, yes, there’s a budget,” you called over your shoulder, causing them to laugh as you gave them a wave. Slinking away from the comity of the bullpen, back to Mrs Claus’ lair, you retrieved the only remaining name. You paused in the hallway to double check if you’d read the glittery scrawl correctly. Spencer Reid. It was just your luck. You were prepared to engage in hand to hand combat with Garcia, seeing her office looming ahead. “Penelope. I hate you. I love you,” you kissed her cheek, placing the top hat on her curls, “but I hate you.” She recognised the tone, beaming at the implications. “Thank me later, beautiful!” She called after you as you rushed away to get started on completing the mountains of reports you had been avoiding thus far. 

The day had come to a close, a headache making a home for itself in your head. Scanning the, now, mostly empty room, you caught sight of the back of Spencer’s uncombed head. Double checking that not enough people were around to be reprimanded by HR for misconduct, you inconspicuously made your way over to him snaking your arms around his neck and burrowing your nose in its crook. “Hi,” he chuckled, amused at the sudden affection, his unoccupied hand immediately reaching to grasp one of your wrists. Spencer had followed your strict, but coffee induced, orders earlier that morning telling him not to distract you unless, one, he was dying, or two, something was on fire, because you were determined to finish the numerous write-ups you had left until today. “Hi,” you mumbled into him. “Ready to go home?” You asked sweetly, arms still slung around him, pulling your face away to get a glimpse of his soft features. Your heart stopped for a little while, at the beauty of him. He was breathtaking. You refrained from tracing the small bump of his nose with your own, and settled for admiring the five o’clock shadow presaging a hidden jaw. The part of Spencer that craved domesticity was enchanted by your simple question, the word home resounding in his head, acting as an old film reel for projections of images of the two of you together; leaving work together, going home together. Little did he know that, as if through an unnoticed telepathy, just a few inches away, the same images occupied your own head. Coming home to an empty apartment had become tedious. You allowed yourself to give into your daydreams of returning home to Spencer - with Spencer. Spencer, with his warm eyes and words that drip like syrup from his tongue. You wanted nothing more than to revel in him filling your senses once the cologne from the day had been washed away, and hear him harp on about the history of mattresses, attempting to retain questions to ask him later in your memory bank, as you capitulate to sleep. “As a matter of fact, I finished most of what I had to do last night so I am ready to go… home,” he tested out the word, to which you had assigned a brand new connotation, feeling a flutter in his chest. You quickly rescinded your arms as you peripherally detected a flock of agents returning from what you assumed was an afternoon break. Spencer suddenly missed your body on his. Having already packed your things, feeling accomplished noticing that the pile of folders on your desk had shrunk significantly, you packed Spencer’s things to save him time, aimlessly throwing the strap of his satchel over his head for him once he had ungracefully shoved his arms into a blazer. “Hang on,” you gently pulled at his shoulders to meet your height, carefully fixing his tag and creased collar. The blush on his face, at the feel of your cold fingers brushing the nape of his neck, said everything he didn’t - save a meek, “Thank you.” You smiled at him in return. “Wait,” his eyes widened, “I need this,” he mumbled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large black bag, decorated in gold intricacies. He didn’t explain it, but you knew that if Spencer had something to say, he would come out and say it, just all in good time. “Now are you ready?” You eyed the thing curiously, and glanced back at him. “Let’s go,” he motioned his arms in front of him, with a small nod, letting you lead the way. 

Afternoon rays of sun fought their way through clouds, battling with the winter air to warm the people mingling outside as you made your way towards the crowded station. “Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, intuitively slipping an arm through his when the sun began to disappear altogether. Your cheeks grew warm as you realised your compromising position, feeling your heart rate return to its usual pace once he relaxed into your touch. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, letting his river coloured eyes unabashedly scan your face. “You look like your mind is far away,”

“What’s on my mind is definitely not very far away,” he said, quietly. That glimmer had returned. You noticed that the crease between his brows had disappeared, indicative that whatever thoughts were rattling through his brain, were good ones. You hummed a smile, content with his contentedness. “So… Hand it over,” he extended a palm a second later. “Hand what over?” You asked, genuinely confused. “A penny,” he said as if it was obvious. You blinked up at him, unfazed by the joke, as he bit his lip provokingly. All of a sudden he stopped walking, eyes still on you. “Just… Hold on a moment,” he whispered, squinting at you as he reached a hand towards your cheek. You remained still, thinking that Spencer had finally lost his mind. “Here it is!” He exclaimed, breaking out into a smile as he retrieved a one cent coin from behind your ear. “What!? You’re kidding! That was brilliant,” you beamed at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. “For a second there I thought you had gone crazy,” you teased. “Magic does that to people,” he nodded, satisfied with how impressed you seemed. “Ah, but alas, you gave me a very ambiguous answer, so I,” you snatched the penny from his fingers, “am entitled to a refund.” Spencer shook his head with a soft smile. “You might need to use that for the bus if we miss the next train,” he informed, hurriedly examining the watch on his upturned wrist. 

No trains were missed, that day, the two of you arriving at your door in time for the six o’clock news. “Here, let me take your coat,” you offered, putting it on the small rack beside the door, placing yours adjacent to it. Spencer relished in the warmth of the place, setting his things down. “So, I’m thinking we get a proper meal in us, and then you can help me decorate this dreary place,” you instructed. He wanted to let you know that anywhere you are is far from being dreary, but something told him that was far too sappy, so he settled for a simple, “Sounds good.” He took in the familiar apartment, its walls embellished in old paintings snagged from secondhand stores and books scattered about on almost every horizontal surface, in a certain disorderliness that said, yes it’s messy, but everything has its place. “Also, I hope you know that you’re only leaving in the morning so make yourself at home.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you; you falling asleep at his apartment out of feebleness, him at yours, and more often than not, it involved discarded games of Scrabble as the two of you settled for debating the rules instead of actually playing. Lately, he’d been craving it more and more - and so had you. Spencer would never say no to that offer, but he was taken aback. “But I didn’t pack- I don’t have-“

“Eidetic memory is slipping I see,” you giggled at his flustered state. “I told you, I kept finding toothbrushes, sweaters and socks here every time you left, so I made a drawer full of your things, since you practically live here anyway,”

“An entire drawer? I didn’t think I was missing a whole lot,” he responded, nose tinted red. “I have to water my plants quickly, before I put dinner on, but feel free to shower,” you said, still laughing quietly. “Let me help cook, first. You need someone to disassemble the smoke alarm,” he raised an eyebrow at you. One ‘KISS THE COOK’ apron and half an hour of seasoning a chicken, spilling sweet potatoes and bumping elbows later, the two of you stood back from the counter, you boasting to Spencer about how nothing had turned to ashes, and him pointing out that the oven hadn’t been turned on yet. Soon after, you put the oven on high, humming an indistinguishable carol over the shower that could be heard running from the next room. A warm, tingling feeling overcame you.

By the time you had showered, Spencer stood serving - a well timed and flawlessly cooked - chicken, wearing mitts matching the baggy flannel pyjamas keeping him warm on top of the open oven. “Smells good,” you complimented, slightly startling Spencer. He stood at the small wooden dining table, mouth agape at the sight of you. He was sure his heart was a puddle. “I like your sweater,” he praised. You glanced down slightly confused, shortly realising that your sweater, with its much too floppy sleeves, reaching a little way above your knees, was actually his. “Oh, I’ll wash it and give it back to you at some point,” you said shyly. “I was wondering where it went, but don’t worry about it, the colour looks nicer on you than it does on me,”

“Nonsense, you know that’s not true.” Soon enough, you found yourselves digging in - not before you expressed your gratitude towards food that wasn’t charred for the first time in months. You sat across from each other, your reindeer sock clad feet occasionally tapping his beneath the table. Spencer’s heart was full, marvelling at you from where he sat, wishing this could be something he could experience forever, much preferring it over a stale sandwich. You watched him intently through your eyelashes, chin resting on your interlaced hands while he taught you about how the thalidomide scandal emerging from Germany led to safer drugs in the pharmaceutical industry, the lecture prompted by an article he’d read recently. It continued into getting the dishes cleaned up, his rambling only being interrupted by your intermittent questions which incited further tangents, or requests to pass the tea towel. His voice was a ruffled silken sheet, on which you would like to lay for eternity. Admittedly, you found it difficult to focus on retaining any more information than the odd date, due to being too focused on the way his lips moved to form every word he said, hopelessly enamoured by the overly enthusiastic expressions he made to match the tone of what he was saying. Eventually, he wandered towards the living room as you stacked away the final plate, butterflies still spurring in your stomach from when his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you.

“Spencer Reid effortlessly navigating technology, Christmas miracles really do exist, huh?” 

“Actually, I just remembered watching you choose music, instead of paying attention to the road, that one time you drove me to work,”

“I was most definitely paying attention,” you huffed out a laugh, slightly bashful at the thought of him remembering small things you do. “You hit the kerb four times! That was the day I vowed to never let you transport me anywhere,”

“I see your argument, and I raise you with the counter argument: the kerb hit me.” Sitting with his back against the couch, legs sprawled out over the rug beneath your coffee table, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laughter. After watching you disappear into the kitchen, he busied himself with reading the holiday edition of Reader’s Digest laying on the table. He recounted you telling him that you had accidentally  drunkenly subscribed to it, and never bothered to cancel the subscription, the first time you’d caught him reading an issue. You emerged a short while later, with drinks in both hands. “Bonjour monsieur, on tonight’s menu, we can either open this Merlot or, drink Capri-suns like the sophisticated adults we are. Your pick,” you said, hiding the juice pouches behind your back and noticeably waving the bottle of wine in front of you. “I have a feeling it isn’t my pick,” he let out a laugh, “so just fill a glass with enough Merlot for two,” you were on your way to get a glass before he had the chance to finish. “Your wish is my command!” You called. Spencer put down his magazine once he saw you rushing towards him with a large glass of wine in hand. “Of course you opt for Christmas Jazz over Mariah Carey,” you teased, hearing the music he’d queued floating from the withering speaker in the corner of the living room. It was the kind of music that would play in the diner of an expensive hotel, you noted. “I can change it if you’d like?” He began reaching for your phone, when you halted him by grasping his arm. “No, it’s good, I like your taste.” Spencer grinned sheepishly, taking the glass from your hand as you sat down beside him. 

Hours of conversation and decking the halls with tinsel later, with wine flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes you moved the furniture to cater for your very own dance floor. Carefully, Spencer placed a hand below your ribs, touching you like new glassware, lacing the other with yours. Your unfettered hand, replaced the weight of the world as it rested on his shoulder. You recognised the look on his face as he settled into the close proximity, it was the same look that painted yours when you admired him whilst he failed to notice. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the man you held, making an indistinct halo of golden light appear above his unkempt hair. “I apologise for any damage caused to your feet,” you giggled, struggling to find a rhythm. “Here, follow my lead,” he looked down at your feet. “The Waltz?” Dazzled, you raised an eyebrow, a few seconds after recognising the box-like steps in unison. Spencer tried to focus on anything but your lips, glistening in the dull light, so close to his. “Mhm, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated-”

“You don’t say?”

“That’s tough talk for someone I’ve seen fall up a flight of stairs,”

“That sounds made up, but as you were saying,” you laughed into his chest. “It’s simple because its a repeating pattern. Did you know that name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, which means to turn, or to glide? Some say the dance itself comes from the folk music and dances of west Austria, but others debate that it’s a variation of the Volta, from the 16th century,”

“Interesting, makes sense to debate that though. I’m pretty sure volta means ‘a turning’ in Italian - although that’s mostly in reference to the turn of a new thought or idea in sonnets… I’m thinking of Shakespeare,” you chimed in. “Sonnet one-hundred and thirty being a classic example of that,”

“Of course you would know that,” you shook your head in awe, cheeks hurting from grinning too wide. The incandescence of the smile that hadn’t left his face all day was mesmerising, the honeyed expression tied together with the dimples on his cheeks and creases around his eyes. “What would you like for Christmas?” He mumbled, lifting a moment of peaceful silence. “If you pulled my name out of the hat today you’re going to have to be a lot more subtle than that,”

“Unfortunately not,” he pouted. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I have Rossi,” he whispered the words into your ear, neglecting that no one else was around to hear. “What do you get a man who already has everything money can buy?”

“A new wife,” you joked, causing him to scoff. He studied your visage as you pondered his earlier question, still swaying to the soft piano sounds. “Honestly Spencer, being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me,” you finally answered, tilting your head up at him. Spencer thought his knees would give way. He thought his knees would give way, and he would hit the ground with enough impact to implode through the earth’s crust. In reality, he only stumbled over his feet momentarily, regaining his composure before you noticed him slowly becoming unhinged. “If that’s the case, I wish I’d picked your name,” he managed to utter, breathlessly.

The music which continued to play was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing, you were too caught up in each other to pay attention to the world. Wordless, you looked into his eyes, his actions parallel to yours. “You look beautiful right now,” he sighed. “Of course, you always look beautiful but, you know.” You shook your head, refraining from averting your eyes from his. He wished you believed it, promising himself to never abstain from letting you know until you saw yourself the way he did. “It’s funny you say that, because I was thinking the same thing. About you of course,” you rushed out the last part, realising the potential for miscommunication. “I love seeing you happy,”

“Well, as long as you stick around, you’ll be seeing a lot of that,” he spoke lowly, on the verge of telling you about all the things he felt for you. You hadn’t realised, but you had unconsciously moved closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, lighting a fire inside your lungs, as he took yours away. Spencer saw all of the signs; the signs that this was not usual for a friendship. Maybe, if it weren’t for his defeated battle with fear, and doubt, he would have told you by now that he had fallen desperately for you. Spencer knew there wasn’t a drop of insincerity behind any of the kind words you spoke into him, he understood that you were his person, but he found it difficult enough to comprehend that someone could feel this strongly for someone. So, the implausible idea that someone could feel this way about him, was one he was not even prepared to entertain. “Y/N? I, um,” he tried, wearily. You gave him a soft smile, both tired arms laced behind his neck now as his rested on your waist. He dropped his sword. Once again losing the fight against his unreasonable insecurities, changing his mind at the last second. “I need to give you something,” his demeanour changed and he vanished from your line of vision. Your heart sank, hopes of hearing him say that the love you had for him was requited, fallen. Before you got too lost in your head, he emerged from the doorway with the same black bag you’d been inquisitive of. “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you,” he tucked his lip beneath his teeth. “Spencer…” you trailed off as he handed it to you. You sat yourself on the carpet, patting the spot next to you for him to join. “I thought I should give it to you now, since I’ll be in Vegas for Christmas,” 

“Spencer, you really didn’t have to-“

“Go on, open it,” he ignored your humility. You gave him a look as you opened it - it being replaced with a look of elation as you realised what it was. In your hands, you held a scarf, long enough to hit the floor, striped in all your favourite tones. “I had to ask my mom for help with the tassels, but-“

“You took the time to make this? For me?” You exclaimed. Without thought, you draped it around his neck to tug him closer to you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much,” you lauded, refusing to let go of him. “I think it was last winter, we were walking back to our hotel in Minnesota during a case, and you insisted that the both of us use my scarf to keep us warm, because you didn’t have one,”

“Ah, I remember that, except it ended up being one of the top ten worst disasters in U.S. history due to the height difference, and we both ended up falling face-first into the snow,” you giggled, recalling the way you had used up most of the hotel’s hot water afterwards. “Exactly,” he matched your expression, “seeing as you still haven’t bought one for yourself, even though we lose eighty percent of our body heat through our head and neck, I thought I would take matters into my own hands,”

“Well, I love it. You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you and that I’m sending my love,” you finally dropped your arms from around him, out of fear of crushing his shoulders. 

Once the zeroes had lined up on the twenty-four clock, Spencer sat where he usually resided on your bed, ardently admiring you as you folded away his gift. “Wait! Spencer close your eyes! Please!” You squeaked, immediately shutting the cupboard doors, realising your unwrapped present for him was hidden within. “Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked, eyes now sealed shut. “I didn’t want you to see what I’d bought for Secret Santa,” you let out, too exhausted to form a coherent excuse. “We only got those names today - well, yesterday, now - so how did you manage to-”

“Shoot,” you cursed to yourself, knowing his unintentional profiling would lead him to the conclusion sooner or later. Spencer’s eyes slowly opened. “Okay, let’s say if, hypothetically, I had intended on giving you something for Christmas anyway, but then drawn your name today, would you, hypothetically, be able to act surprised when you receive it from me at work?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I would?” He squinted at you, stifling laughter. Your hair was slightly messy and your drowsy eyes were visible to Spencer even without his contacts in. He thought you just looked so adorable, wanting nothing more than to hold you and share your warmth. “Anyway, come to bed,” he beckoned, his voice gravelly, giving way for the day. Obliging, you shuffled towards your bed before sliding your cold feet beneath the covers. Spencer turned to face you, resting his cheek on an upturned palm. “Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you whispered, tucking the duvet under your chin, bright eyes looking through him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he assured, treasuring the sight before him. There had been a shift in the air between the two of you. Spencer held the wine accountable, but he could sense that you felt it too, a level of intimacy that you had not quite reached during previous nights like this. “Come closer, I need to exploit your body heat while I can.” Spencer listened to your instruction, inching nearer to you, his heart rate so high he was sure you could feel it when you nuzzled your head into his chest. “Goodnight,” you felt his chest rumble. “Hang on, the night isn’t over yet,” you mumbled, “talk to me,”

“About?” He asked, amused by your grit to avoid sleep. “Anything you want,” you yawned. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, coaxing you into getting some shut eye. When you tilted your head up and continued to blink at him, he gave in. “Have you ever wondered why a lot of our most vulnerable conversations happen  at night?” You nodded in response. “Well, a study done by the University of Colorado a couple of years ago concluded that natural light from the sun actually regulates your circadian rhythm, or internal biological clock, which standardises your sleep cycle. According to their study, this sleep cycle coincides with sunrise and sunset, meaning that if you regularly expose yourself to sunlight, your body enhances its internal clock to align more closely with the natural light cycle,” 

“Based on that,” you contended, words slightly jumbled, “our circadian rhythm would vary between seasons, right? And yours would be different, since you’re a literal vampire, to say... someone who surfs down in Florida because of disparity in sun exposure?”

“Precisely,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’m impressed you’re still paying attention, you look like you’re already dreaming.” Spencer nudged your forehead gently with his own, causing you to breath out a laugh. “Alright, so how does all of that relate to being more vulnerable at night?”

“It relates in the sense that the rise and fall of the sun reflects in our physiological, as well as emotional behaviour. During the day, we’re a lot more active, and at night, we become more relaxed and receptive. Hence, since your mind is at ease, all the thoughts and emotions that might have felt jumbled up during the day become clear, making them a whole lot easier to express,”

“Mhm,” you managed, eyelids growing heavy. “Do you… have anything to say now,” you whispered drowsily, eyes now closed, “that you can’t say during the day?” Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore. He was already so fond of you but as his hand settled to rest around your waist, feeling your warmness, he believed his ribs could collapse from the way he felt inside. As you dozed off, gradually, winter became less cold in his arms and dreamscapes of his tea leaf eyes. “And, she’s asleep,” he whispered, minutes after silence, into your hair, “but to answer your question, yes,” his lips planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, you weren’t asleep just yet.

∗∗∗

A couple of days went by, and as more time went on, the less certain you became as to whether Spencer had really even said the words, wondering if the whole thing was just a fatigue driven hallucination your lovesick mind had conjured up. Waking up beside him the next morning however, tangled in a warm cocoon of cotton and limbs, had left you feeling giddy, smiling like a fool with heart shaped eyes as he attempted to feed you the waffles he’d made - which the two of you gulped down far too quickly than sanctioned, to avoid being late for work. When you didn’t succeed, and the clock had beaten you by ten minutes, you both wrestled past evocative looks from the rest of the team for the remainder of the day, JJ even singing something about the two of you ‘sitting in a tree’ . The soft, shared, smiles and light brushes of fingertips when he handed you coffee in the mornings left you wanting to concede; let him know that you would walk on burning coal for him, the more logical side of you reminding you that professing your devotion to him over an open case file consisting of a double homicide, three days before Christmas, was far from ideal. Spencer wanted the kind of love only the poets could express. This had become evident the evening you took him to a midnight screening of ‘Un homme et Une Femme’. You recalled leaning into him to translate, catching sight of his welling eyes glimmer in the dim lit theatre. Believing his love should be celebrated, you decided to withhold the unsurfaced feelings a little while longer.

Later that week, you all gathered around the BAU tree, a small framed picture of Derek decidedly hanging from one of its upper branches after Garcia had to be heavily persuaded, and eventually bribed, to not place it at the top, arguing “But he’s my star.” Spencer snuck behind you, subtly placing a hand on your back to glide through and place Rossi’s gift under the tree. “I want to let you know that I’ve been practicing my ‘surprised’ face in the mirror,” he discreetly whispered against your neck, making you roll your eyes. “Okay super sleuths, I know we’re all itching to fly away for a break, but hold your reindeer, because we are yet to kick off our annual Secret Santa,” Garcia excitedly exclaimed, shuffling in with two large sparkling bags. “I thought there was a budget?” Rossi quirked. “Yes, sir,” she looked smug, “for you.” The team shared smiles at Rossi’s perplexed look. “So, who wants to start us off?” Garcia chirped. With that, the festivities were under way. You held tight an abnormally large heat sensitive mug, which you were sure would also reveal a promiscuous image once warm - a gift from Emily, who gave herself away by insisting it would help your caffeine dependency - watching as the others tackled ribbon wrapping paper. You threw an impressed look Spencer’s way, that glint of knowing something the universe doesn’t returning to your eyes, when Rossi opened a small portrait of what looked to be a Venetian cathedral, the Santa Maria to be exact. Once the banter and excited chatter had died down, everyone turned to the recipient of the final gift, neatly labelled Spencer Reid, enveloped in brown paper and tied with deep purple ribbon. Penelope looked as if she were about to pass out. Spencer’s shifting eyes landed on JJ as she mouthed a small ‘you’re up’, causing a smile to tug at his lips when he eyed you gazing at him with the soft look he adored. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they swimmingly untied the mauve knot and tore open the paper to reveal a large leather-bound journal. He examined the old looking thing,  trailing his fingers along the convoluted golden details of the artistic interpretation of a moon calendar adorning its umber covers, partially covered by thin leather straps. His mouth was slightly agape, shaking a little at how well you knew him, clumsily catching the matching novelty pen before it slipped out of the wrapping and onto the floor. You had picked it up at a forlorn occult shop after it had caught your eye while looking out of place as it lay surrounded by large crystals. Knowing in an almost divine way that it should belong to Spencer, you had bought it. He couldn’t help but look at you briefly, communicating a silent gratitude. “This is amazing,” he ogled, “I love it.” Your heartbeat was in your throat. He was yet to find out you’d filled the first page for him.

Shouts of Merry Christmas, long hugs and season’s greetings were thrown around the room before, one by one, everyone slowly bade their goodbyes. While helping JJ clear away torn reds and greens of gift wrapping, you caught sight of Spencer, ears and cheeks scarlet, with his nose buried in his new, opened, journal.

“We are asleep until we fall in love," you looked up from Leo Tolstoy’s one thousand page book and recited to me, once. Since you walked into my life, I’ve been wide awake. You know that I’m never far away, but this is for the days you need to let out some of what you hold in, without saying it aloud. 

I love you too, Spencer.

Spencer read and re-read the words until he was sure he could recite them like the Lord’s Prayer. It was commonly Spencer who remembered small details and remembered paltry quotations, but this time, it was you. Sitting in the glow of the afternoon sun, one October, he had been reading War and Peace, and couldn’t help but share the line with you as you sat across from him, chewing through a much smaller number of pages and reading a collection of poetry. The woman he had been so captivated by, admiring from afar that day - and all others, felt the same way he did. In disbelief, he began breathing manually. Making sure he was deciphering the cursive lettering correctly, he scanned the page again. While his eyes were definitely not deceiving him, they remained glued to one word. Awake. The havoc caused in his heart by the train of thought hitting him so brutally, rivalled only Gare Montparnasse. You must’ve heard his confession nights ago. It was the only explanation for the ‘I love you, too’. You most definitely were awake. Profiling tendencies overcame him. With his basic background of graphology, he could make out that the last line had been written in fresher ink than all the others, confirming his hypothesis. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet, the uncertainties which fought to float in, unable to make their way through as if the thee simple words you’d handed him were a barrier for them. He needed to talk to you.

Walking quickly towards the elevator, an overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over you. You had subconsciously been avoiding Spencer for most of the evening, second-guessing whether or not you’d heard him correctly, whether he’d even meant the words in the way you’d interpreted, wondering what you would do if this friendship were to ever end. However, a more hopeful side of you contended to quiet those thoughts. He had to feel it too. There was no room in which you hadn’t shared a longing look. The feather touches, and dancing. So badly did you want to believe that he thought this too. A slender arm appeared through the closing elevator doors, tugging you back to reality, causing you to jump before quickly pushing the open button. “Spencer! You could’ve lost an arm!” You yelped. “It’s okay, I have two of them,” he huffed. He avoided your eyes for a moment, before inhaling half of the oxygen in the small lift and turning towards you. “I wanted to say thank you, for this,” he held up the book, “it’s gorgeous, and sort of… exactly what I needed - and not just the book itself but what you wrote… inside it,” he nervously looked at you. “Did you- do you mean what you wrote?” His tone of voice syringed into you a drop of hurt. “Spencer, I never want you to think that I don’t mean it,” your let out in a shaky voice, gently grasping his elbow. You visibly saw his body ease, a smitten smile replacing the lip being chewed at. His throat bobbed as he gulped before he spoke again, heartbeat in his ears. “I want you to know that I’m in love with you, Y/N. I don’t want you the way I want a best friend, I want you in a-” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist trying to find the words, “I want you in a way that means I want to fall asleep beside you, and wake up to you the next morning, for as long as the sun rises. I want you. I want you - no, need you, the way the tide needs the moon to rise and fall, I want you-” he swallowed, furrowing his brows at his feet, “I want you, like this.” Hazel eyes fluttering shut was the last thing you saw. Large hands lightly caressed your face, one travelling behind your ear, brushing your neck to delicately tangle in your hair. After years of wondering, you finally knew what his lips felt like on yours. His nose bumped yours lightly as you tasted his soft lips, their slight chap reminding you that winter had kissed them first. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, before one settled on his tilted jaw and another hid in his chestnut hair. He felt warm, everywhere you touched setting electricity through him. Even after you pulled apart, his arms remained on either side of your face, holding you like you were fragile. His breath fanned over your face, as you shivered, the fluttering in your stomach unsubdued. The elevator had long reached the ground floor, causing the two of you to bashfully laugh concurrently. You thought to yourself that Spencer’s crimson flush and wide grin was a sight you would lose sleep to gaze at. “All this time, I’ve been missing out on that,” you teased, watching him shyly bite his lip as he waited for you to say something else. “I’m very glad you said all of that because I’m very much in love with you, Spencer Reid, and, if you’ll let me, I want to love you, the way people love in all the books you’ve lent me,” you told him. At that, he was sure his heart was yours, fearlessly. So, making afternoon plans and debating which train to take, neither of you really caring as long as you were in the other’s company, you finally stepped out of the elevator, oblivious to the mistletoe that was hanging within it, but more than mindful of what was to come. 

[henqtic]

𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!hufflepuff!rReader

summary: you see a special constellation on Draco’s birthday.

word Count: 2.8k 

warnings: Bullying

y/n/n= your nick name

masterlist. // taglist form. // request more works.

—————————

It was July 31st 1985. 

The warm summer air was blowing past your dress. You were sitting on the field in front of the cottage that you and your mother had lived in. You were thinking about Luna and how you should pay her a visit she was a bit odd but, did make for a good person to talk to. Soon your thoughts were interrupted by a black owl landed on your shoulder you could easily tell it was your boyfriend’s Draco Malfoy.

ミ★

You have been friends since your second year of Hogwarts. He had gotten tired of you not listening to his bullying about you being a Hufflepuff and just offering him a smile and saying some sort of compliment that would make him blush every time.

“Hey l/n going to make more friends with more house elves,” he said with a smirk

“I like what you did with hair today Draco”

“I do my hair like this everyday,” he responded as he turned his head away from you trying to hide the blush that covered his cheeks.

It was near the end of the school year when Draco had found you under a tree with a book with chocolate chip cookies.

You were wearing a yellow sweater with flowers embroidered on it, paired with yellow plaid pants and banana earrings. An outfit that Draco had once referred to as “to Hufflepuff even for a Hufflepuff”.You were sitting on a comfy blanket that your mom had made for you for an occasion just like this.It was calming to be away from the castle more specifically Draco. He was so pale he looked like a muggle’s depiction of a vampire so you were surprised to even had spotted him outside without screaming of have much it burned.

“ l/n your sitting under my tree”

“Would you like a cookie,” you’d say as if you didn’t even hear what he had said to you.”Did you not unders- what did you say?” He was honestly confused as to why you a girl he liked but instead of admitting to it he bullied her of all things.

“I offered you a cookie their really good in my opinion” you’d say with a smile, “They’re chocolate chip, my prefect had to help me but I like to think I put most of my love in it”

“I- Well I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have a cookie,” he admitted. “Not like you poisoned it or anything,” He said with a low chuckle following behind. You responded with a breathy laugh. Maybe he’ll be nicer to me this time.

“You Hufflepuffs are entirely too nice for that”

You sighed as he sat on your blanket and gave him a chocolate chip cookie out of your bag with a sad look in your eye that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

Everyday he made fun of you, for something you couldn’t control. Something you never wanted to change. You noticed how his friends were more of bodyguards to him so you let him pick on you because it brought him some sort of “happiness”, but it was getting to you. If you ever told him that he would say that it was incredibly “Hufflepuff” of you.

You looked toward the blonde boy in front of you with a feeling of anxiousness. Maybe it was sadness starting to build up that would eventually burn your throat as you cried like last night.

“Why do you bully me so often?” you said with a sad tone while handing him a napkin and gesturing to his face.

He had a bit of chocolate smeared at the top of his lip although you were saddened and angry at his behavior towards you, you did know he liked to look at his best at all times. Merlin why am I so loyal to a boy who wouldn’t do a thing for me, you thought.

“I’ve been putting up with it for the past two years and its tiring Draco” Your statement was laced with a bit of anger. Something he had never heard before. “Us Hufflepuffs,” you spat, “Aren’t always nice and jolly you know.” You were staring in front of you. “I didn’t want to say this because it would inflate your already large for nothing ego,” you said as you turned to look at him. His face adorned a look of shock. 

“But sometimes your words get to me,” your voice had completely betrayed you by cracking and a single tear dropped down your face that you quickly wiped.

He didn’t say anything with his mouth opening and closing it like a fish out of water. You scoffed as you got up and dusted off your jeans, “Here, you can keep the cookies you seem to like them,” no matter how sad and angry were, you, you still said that sentence with a sincere undertone. “I’m going to go somewhere where someone won’t make me feel horrible for something I can’t control.”

“Wait”

“Why should I wa-”

“I’m sorry” “your sorry,” you challenged in a sarcastic tone. “That is what I said didn’t I?” You shot him an annoyed look, you were not in the mood for him to start again. He noticed your face and quickly said “Sorry again.” He sighed and stood up right in front of you. “I’m sorry for bullying you and I want you to forgive me.” His wrote to his mum about his problem. She worded the apology differently but you still got what he was trying to say. “Oh” “Yea,” he said awkwardly while staring at his feet. 

You had two decisions walk away and leave him to deal with himself or to offer a friendship. Getting tired of arguing with yourself you stuck out your hand and said with a small “I think we’ll do better as friends and not as bully and bullied. He looked at your hand for a moment before shaking it “That’d be nice, I guess,” he responded not trying to sound as eager as he was. He also didn’t want the only civil conversation to end with his crush so easily so he quickly said with hope in his eyes “We should sit back down, yea, I’ll share the cookies they’re not bad”

“Yea, we should.” For the next hour or two you and Draco talked and got to know one another 

His crush grew and yours had started to bloom.

ミ★

He brought you to the yule ball as his date and admitted that he liked you more than just a friend and you admitted the same now you were reading a lengthy parchment about him apologizing about how he couldn’t find time to owl you because his father and mother were planning his birthday party on June 5. 

He also mentioned how he convinced them to not throw a big one like they did every time, he describes it as less of a birthday party and more of an opportunity for his parents to talk to other purebloods and him to talk to their kids so he had no problem cancelling and instead spending the day with you. 

“Very-un Draco and very Draco,” you said out loud while looking down at the bottom of the parchment.

╭┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄ · · · 🏹꒱₊˚・｡ﾟ･

┊ Love, can you actually believe I convinced mum not to throw a big party?

┊ She was at least two times as hard to convince than father. I just wanted to 

┊ let you know that on my birthday, I hope you haven’t forgotten it but if you 

┊ have it’s June 5th. I don’t want to spoil anything so trust me and flu or get 

┊ your parents to apparate you here around 8pm. I hope to see you, have a 

┊ great rest of your day and sorry again for not owling for three days.

┊ -yours forever Draco

┊

╰┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄ · · ·🏹 ꒱₊˚・｡ﾟ･

╭┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄ · · · 🏹꒱₊˚・｡ﾟ･

┊ I’d never forget your birthday Draco. I’ve had your gift wrapped and 

┊safely tucked away in my dresser. I think you’ll really like it :) Of course

┊ I’ll come. Oh! and I’ll bring chocolate chip cookies I know how much

┊ you like them

┊ -yours forever y/n

┊

╰┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄ · · ·🏹 ꒱₊˚・｡ﾟ･

June 5th 1985, 7:50

Your mum was never a person to be late anywhere so you were dressed 10 minutes early with a white dress on, a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies, and Draco’s present in your bag.You did your makeup 20 minutes prior because although you did love to express your creativity, it was harder to draw flowers on your eyelids half awake.

“Darling hurry up we don’t want to be late,” you heard your mum call.

“Coming!”

“Do you have everything with you”

“Yes mum,” you said with an eye roll. “Isn’t it adorable a Slytherin and Hufflepuff,” you could say she was more excited about your relationship than you were with the way she was talking.

Your father too had been a Slytherin too while your mum was a Hufflepuff like you.Ironic really how their daughter was following in their footsteps.“Mum,” you said in a desperate tone “oh come on dear, grab on,” she said as she reached out her arm, you grabbed on and felt like you were being sucked through at time.When you touched the ground you smiled in a success of not throwing on your mum’s shoes.

Then, you took a moment to look around. Draco’s house  manor was huge.You’d thought he had been exaggerating it maybe he was under exaggerating. It looked like a castle, a dark one at that it wasn’t very lively to be honest, and you would never trade the cottage you lived in for it.

Your mum went to knock on the door with you by her side when the door quickly opened and you were met with a tall blonde hugging you and you eagerly hugged him back.

His head was in the crook of your neck and he said in a tone only for you to hear “I’m happy you came summers been rather boring without you” “I wouldn’t have missed it,” When you pulled away Draco was met with the sight of your mum smiling like she had just seen the greatest thing in the world. He reached out his hand to introduce himself when she cut him off by hugging him and saying.

“Oh dear, you must be Draco,” She said as she pulled back, “ y/n/n here as told me all about you, how nice you are, how much of a great-” You quickly stopped her before she could say anything else to embarrass you “Mum let Draco talk yea, seemed like he had something really important to say” 

You could feel Draco’s smirk burning itself into the side of your head and he looked away and said “Oh yes, mother and father wanted to say hi before you left the door is just down the hall and the third one on your right,I can take you if you want”

“Oh no that’s alright I’ll leave you and y/n alone, also happy birthday dear.” He smiled brightly and looked at her as she walked away and then turned to you and said smugly as he tucked one of your hairs behind your ear, “I’m a great what exactly” “A um great boyfriend,” it was embarrassing how you could lose your words around him.

He leaned in closer and said with a smirk “To me it sounded like she was going to say kisser” “Draco your a horrible kisser” “That’s the complete opposite of what you tell me normally,” he said with a mixed look of confusion and amusement. You were really regretting telling your mum everything about your relationship.He pulled away, grabbed your hand and said “Come on you have to see this'' 

He dragged you all the way to a spot with a blanket and an older looking telescope.It was beautiful really but it wasn’t your day “Draco this is beautiful but it’s your birthday you didn’t  have to do this” “Love, of course i didn't have too but I wanted to,” He looked at you with a bright smile “I’d do anything for you and don’t worry the night is still mostly about me” He brought you to sit down on the blanket and immediately said “You did bring the cookies, didn’t you”

You rolled your eyes and said, “Yes,I brought them Draco.” He bit into one and said, “Your an angel for baking these for me love” “I’d do anything for you Draco'' You suddenly remembered the gift you had in your bag “Alright um here’s your gift” He carefully unwrapped it and it was a moving picture framed of you and him in your quidditch robes in third year his arm around your shoulders and you were both looking at each other. 

“How did you get this,” he said as he admired the picture  “Mum found it when looking through her things, said she took it and forgot about it and she gave it to me,” you said with a smile before he could even thank you reached into your bag again, “That’s not all” “Really,” he said eagerly.

 “Really,” you reassured” “Mum found that after I got your gift” “You said as you grabbed the dark green box and handed it to him “It was rather hard looking for something that was exactly your taste but I think you’ll really liked it” “l/n are you proposing to me? Because you do I wanted to do that first,” He said smugly. “No but it is- ugh just open it and you’ll see,” you said not wanting to ruin the surprise. He breathed out air as he saw it, a silver snake ring that would coil around the finger he put it on.

“How’d you find one of these, I’ve been wanting one since second year ever since Crabbe mistaken it for a worm and threw it into the lake,” he said as he put it around his finger and looked at you with nothing but love in his grey-blue eyes. “That's just horrible. I'll have a talk with Crabbe when we go back to school.” “Even if it wasn’t a worm he shouldn’t have thrown it into the bloody lake”

“It’s alright, I prefer yours anyway,” he looked like he was about to say something when you pulled out your wand and said “Oh that not all I wanted to make a little extra you.” You tapped the wand on the snake’s head and it started to move. He looked at it in awe of how someone could be so brilliant. You saw the look in his eyes and smiled at how much he liked the gift. You turned your head to look up at the sky when Draco started to say something you definitely weren’t expecting. 

“Merlin I’m in love with you” That was the first time he ever said that to you. You turned your head to be met with his eyes and swallowed thickly to try and make sure you weren’t dreaming. “What’d you say,” you breathed out with a smile on your face. “He got closer to you and said, “I said I’m in love with you” he kissed your nose and then spoke again in a softer tone “I love you y/n” You thought that right then and there your soul had been taken out if you and you had an out of body but before you could stop yourself you said, “ I love you too Draco” “So much”

“You really do?”

“Yes Draco, I really do”

“Say it again,” he looked at you with big eyes.

You kissed his forehead “I love you” Both of his cheeks “I love you” “I love you” his nose “I love you” and then pecked his lips “I love you” in the end of it he was left a blushing mess.

“Godric you're amazing” He cleared his throat trying not to scream at his lungs that his girlfriend just told him she loved him about six times. “The constellation I wanted you to see should be out now.” 

You both laid on your backs and stared at the sky you scooted closer to Draco as he had his hand out looking for it.He abruptly stopped and said “It’s right there” You picked up your hand to point at the same place he was but you couldn’t find it exactly so he took both of your pointed hands and pointed it at the Draco Constellation.

“It’s the Draco Constellation,” he whispered loud enough for you to hear. You turned to look at him with your hand still in his as he said “I’m named after it.” He turned to you with a child like smile and said “Wicked right”

“Yea wicked,” you whispered back. Both of your faces were close as Draco took yours and his hand from pointing at the sky. He held your face with one as he leaned into kiss you.

This was in Draco’s opinion his best birthday ending with him kissing the girl he loved and the girl that loved him under the stars.

ミ★

A/N- I was in the middle of writing this right and I got the months wrong thinking that the Draco constellation came out in June and not July. Hopefully you can look over it for the sake of the story :) Dude and I’m also kinda proud of this one anyways feel free to leave any feedback or constructive criticism.

[ackerfics]

your eyes still shined, like pretty lights — mikasa ackerman

— mikasa ackerman x female reader (modern au)

— request by anon: ooh how about some childhood best friends to lovers with mikasa? also based from taylor swift’s mary’s song :)

— warnings: none? just too much fluff and a hint of angst :))

— summary: you never knew that being childhood best friends with mikasa would lead to you finding forever within her gray eyes.

— word count: 6.3k words

— author’s notes: i am so happy that this is my first request !! thank you for requesting this and i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i loved writing it. i never knew writing mikasa would evoke feelings i was so familiar with back when there were face to face interactions with people. i will be forever grateful for the request !! you are a gem.

i reposted this bc it seems like this didn’t appear in the tags :(( i hope this works now :”((

> just two kids, you and i

The scent of apple pies drifted across the Ackerman household, ensnaring the girl of black locks and starlit eyes inside her room on the second floor. It wasn’t a regular day in their neighborhood. For starters, there was a moving truck parked at the house beside them, men shouting for the furniture to be lugged inside the walls of the empty home one by one, and the quiet atmosphere was interrupted by what was ensuing in the neighboring house of the Ackerman’s. Mikasa, the only daughter of the household, wanted to satisfy her curiosity, which flared, even more, when her mother baked one of her special apple pies. Throwing away the homework her first-grade teacher gave them, the young girl padded across her room, opened the door with a bang, and ran towards the kitchen in an excited rush.

With wide eyes, she stood on her tiptoes and peered at the edge of the countertop. There was flour everywhere, or was it powdered sugar? Mikasa will never know unless she will have one taste of it. Just a little taste. And so she carefully reached out one arm to swipe the white ingredient off the counter.

“Mika, don’t even think about it.”

Mikasa froze in her tracks, looking up to meet her mother’s eyes. “But I wanted to know if this is powdered sugar.”

The older woman smiled endearingly at her daughter. “You could’ve just asked, you know? Besides, I think these apple pies are much better than the powdered sugar.” She turned to get one of the pies from the oven with her mittens, then facing Mikasa with a proud smile. “So what do you think? Will our new neighbors love it?”

“Everybody loves your pies, Mom.”

A laugh came from the woman’s lips, letting the delicacies cool down before putting them in a box for their neighbors to enjoy. What her daughter said was true. Every time the light of the Ackerman household baked treats for the neighborhood, she would always receive remarks that she needed to open her bakery, saying that every single one of her treats was divine. She wanted to open her bakery, even to the point of helping out one of her nephews who was starting to have a tea shop as a dream. Her daydreams were interrupted when she saw something move in her peripheral vision. Mikasa was once again reaching out to swipe the caramel apple toppings. “Mika, you will have your share later. For now, we’ll have to be patient, okay?”

The little girl pursed her lips in annoyance. She was getting tired of standing on her tiptoes anyway. She had nothing else to do — she ditched her homework, she was told to wait before eating the dessert, and she was bored out of her mind. The silence stretched on for a couple of minutes, all spent by Mikasa thinking hard on what interesting thing she should be focusing her attention on.

“You know, our new neighbors have a little girl your age, why don’t you introduce yourself to her?”

That was the only catalyst for little Mikasa to make her way to her room, getting the toys she wanted to show, as she brightened at the thought of making new friends. In her elementary school, nobody wanted to be friends with her, knowing that she was known for being blunt and introverted. She was trying her hardest but nobody lasted longer than a few months — they always found a new circle of kids to share their stories with and Mikasa will be left alone again. Her older cousin, Levi, always teased her (in the least condescending way possible) that she should get rid of that permanent frown on her face (like he was one to talk). But it was never Mikasa’s fault that their classroom was always stuffy, with the air conditioner not functioning well. Mikasa doesn’t like being cooped up in a room, sweaty because of the humidity. The little girl rather preferred the coolness of the library, which the other kids didn’t like at all. They wanted to have fun and run around the school’s playground the whole hour of their recess and lunch breaks.

So now, it was an understatement that Mikasa was excited. She even brought some of her toys with her to share with her new neighbor. She hoped the girl liked toy soldiers (it was a gift from Levi on her birthday last year).

The little girl her mother was talking about was sitting on the front porch swing bench.

You were smaller than she and Mikasa wondered how you ever sat in the high swing. Your head was hung down and it looked like you were coloring something, with the way your hands gripped the red crayon. The black-haired girl wanted to call out to you but she doesn’t even know your name. Taking a deep breath, the little girl of gray eyes mustered up her courage and tried quelling the pitter-patter of her heart.

Why was it beating so fast?

The moment she stepped on the lawn of the house next door, Mikasa was sure she was seeing the constellations in your eyes when you looked up to meet her expectant stare.

> take me back to the house in the backyard tree

Mikasa was eight when she had this crazy idea inside her head.

In the two years that the two of you were friends, you always talked about a little safe haven tucked from the eyes of the world. A place where the two of you can be yourselves. A place where magic can happen even in the smallest space. Your eyes would light up blindingly when you talked about the things you will put inside your safe space, Mikasa matching your starry eyes with her own, staring at you silently as you poured out your beautiful dreams to her. The last time the two of you had a sleepover, you were chattering about a hidden library that only opens at certain times at night. The next second, you were off narrating how the stars were the most amazing things that gave you comfort on nights where you miss one of your parents because they were working so late. Then, you were relaying the possibilities of having a little art studio where you’re not afraid of drawing one of your prompts.

Mikasa let you ramble with a smile on her face. She was always a listener, afraid that the shine in your eyes would die down when she would interrupt — you just look so beautiful. However, there were times where you asked her things like her hobbies and likes, almost as if you were listing them down in an imaginary notebook in your head, and it will always catch Mikasa off-guard. Stutters accompanied her answers to your questions, not used to being the center of attention when it should be you. You were just too bright and full of sunshine. When Mikasa mentioned this to you, you only grinned, “Then you’ll be my Moon, Mika. I’ll let you glimmer through the night.”

She never slept that night, staring at the moon through her open window while thinking about your words.

Now, her mission led her to her father’s study, face set in adorable determination.

“Mika? What brings you here?” Her father placed his hands on her waist, lifting her until she was situated on his lap. His focus immediately went to his laptop on his desk. Mikasa’s eyes went from her father’s face to the gadget’s screen. She knew her father’s job was something hard and fun at the same time but looking at what was displayed on the screen, she instantly thought that drawing houses was harder than it looks. There were lines that she never knew were supposed to be there, a sprinkling of equations not suited for primary school was scattered around the blueprint, making Mikasa dizzy enough to place a hand on her forehead. “Complicated, isn’t it?” Her dad asked her in amusement. “This is what your Dad does for a living, Mika.”

“You like drawing houses, right?” Mikasa looked up at her father, gray eyes twinkling.

Her father hummed, ruffling her hair before squinting at his laptop. “Yes, I do.”

“We have a big tree in the backyard, right?”

The man furrowed his brows. He looked down at his daughter who was still in a daze in front of his laptop’s screen. “Yeah, it’s pretty hard to miss, you know?”

Gray eyes matched his own as Mikasa lifted her head and squeezed her hands on her lap. “How about building a treehouse in our backyard?”

Her father’s sputter was the only thing she received as a reply but that didn’t stop Mikasa from smiling smugly, your haven becoming possible by the minute.

And nothing can compare to your star-struck face the moment you laid your eyes on your little castle with Mikasa months after it was finished.

The midnight-haired girl swore she once again saw the entire cosmos in your irises, sending her heart in a confusing tangle of beats.

> said you'd beat me up, you were bigger than me (you never did)

Mikasa was eleven when she realized that she will do anything for your happiness.

Friday afternoons were always reserved for your and Mikasa’s many traditions: watch the movies the two of you borrowed from the rental shop downtown, snack on Mikasa’s treats and your mom’s sandwiches, immerse yourselves in video games until dinner was called. It was a celebration for surviving the end of the week — something that kept the two of your going. Your mom never lets you watch television throughout the week, the time was only spent studying and focusing on academics, which must be why you were one of the top students in your primary school. Fridays were your breathers, it reminded you that there was still happiness lingering after a week of pouring everything to not disappoint your parents. And you were happy that you get to spend this with Mikasa of all people.

The movies you two watched were all romantic comedies that your mothers suggested. You were a crying mess while Mikasa only stared at the television with a blank face. She never understood how everything in the movie moved you so much when it was just a pair of people expressing how much they meant to each other. You have that in your life — your parents, your two friends who you recently introduced to her, your dog, and her. Mikasa has always told you how much you meant to her through the littlest of things, the animated little girl when you were kids becoming a soft-spoken pubescent that supported you with little actions. And now, Mikasa didn’t want to see you cry because it didn’t sit right with her. You should be smiling because that’s when you were the most beautiful for her.

“Here, figured the movie would make you cry,” the black-haired girl told you, pushing the box of tissues in your direction.

You sniffed, lips pursed and wobbly. You took out some tissues from the box and proceeded to blow your nose, Mikasa’s hand forming a pattern of soothing circles on your back. “They died together. It was so bittersweet.”

Mikasa thoughtfully stared at your hands that were fiddling with the box of tissues. “At least she remembered him.” She lifted her eyes to meet your teary ones, breath hitching and thoughts forgotten as she blinked at how the lights from the television made your irises have silver flakes on them. Looking away without moving her head, Mikasa cleared her throat. “But they can still do everything as long as they love each other. I guess it’s not a sad ending, it’s not a happy one, either. I think it’s fitting for the two of them.” She carefully reached out a hand and wiped away a stray tear at the corner of your eye, lingering her palm against your cheek. “But if the movie made you cry for varying reasons, it means you understand their feelings, of the characters, I mean. Plus, your tear ducts are still functioning.”

A bubble of giggles came from you. You stared at her with soft eyes that pinched Mikasa’s chest. “What would I do without you, Mika?”

“Probably die in a ditch or something.”

“Hey!” You playfully pushed her side, Mikasa’s slight chuckles tickling your ears. “That’s mean. I never knew our friendship could amount to a thing such as bullying.”

She ruffled your hair with a small smile. “It’s a once-in-a-blue-moon experience.” The black-haired girl then turned around, rummaging for something besides the box of movies you rented for the rest of the day. Two video games were presented in front of you with a faux look of seriousness painting your best friend’s face. “Now, how about we play some games to alleviate the sad atmosphere brought by the movie we just watched?”

“You’re on.”

A few rounds of racing games later and you were becoming agitated. Mikasa always won against you at any type of game you two dedicated your time on. At the moment, you were ranked second, meters away from Mikasa’s selected car model. You were always brushing off your poor gaming and strategic skills, blaming your loss on the equipment you picked, saying that the stats are the absolute worst because Mikasa always took the best-looking car in the choices. All of the cars present in the racing game were all good and it depends on the gamer on how they’ll manage with the listed specs. You maneuvered your red racing car to one of the shortcut routes, your side of the screen displaying a forest terrain that neither of you ever ventured in before. You can see Mikasa glancing at you from the corner of your vision, making you speed up, only for you to be thrown off course by some traps plugged in by the developers. There was a standby screen flashing in front of you, not knowing how Mikasa slowed her car.

When the countdown finished, your car was able to move again and this time, you tried to take it slow since Mikasa might have won the game by now. To your surprise, your name was the one displayed on the screen instead of your best friend. She was awarded third place instead of the second when you could’ve sworn she was just a few meters from the finish line. You looked at her curiously, wondering what happened.

She glanced at you before looking down on her controller thoughtfully. “I guess I messed up, too. I thought there are no traps in front of the finish line but it turns out a bomb was implanted at the side of the track.”

There were no traps in front of the finish line and your giddy smile was picture perfect as you celebrated your first win against Mikasa.

> i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried

Mikasa was fourteen when she realized that her heart was beating for you, something that wasn’t appropriate between best friends.

“Okay, for this small party, we’ll be playing Truth or Dare!” Connie exclaimed, the smell of his father’s stash of beer coming out of his mouth.

Your little world with Mikasa extended and created a universe with unlikely people that you never imagined would be your friends.

It all started with Armin and Eren, the two boys who became your friends in primary school. Armin was one of the smartest people in your middle school, already getting a sure spot in your town’s high school, being the candidate for valedictorian. Meanwhile, Eren was one of the members of the school’s soccer team, which in turn brought along his teammates, Reiner and Jean. The latter person in Eren’s little circle in his soccer team claimed that he and his two friends, Sasha and Connie, were a package deal. It was funny because Sasha was befriended by you and Mikasa way before the two of you knew she had some connection with the soccer player. The brown-haired girl was your seatmate in History. When you heard her stomach grumble (the subject was set before lunchtime and everyone was practically hungry after the morning hours), you offered your bar of chocolate to her. There you found your other best friend, her hugs and gushes of ‘I love yous’ made the first interaction unforgettable.

The small party held in Connie’s house was thrown because you were all graduating the following week. The short boy was ecstatic while planning out the mini-event, even threatening to kick out Sasha when she became hungry while preparing the snacks. Since the party was not limited to your friend group, Reiner invited some of his friends — Annie, Bertholdt, and Ymir. Connie was overjoyed that he was finally getting popular, to which Ymir shut down, saying that she needed the booze (she fought with Historia, her on-off girlfriend, leading to their nth break-up).

“Ugh, man,” Eren groaned. “Do you even remember what happened the last time we played Truth or Dare?”

Jean snorted. “Nobody asked you to do the dare, idiot. You could always take the shot.”

“Well, I don’t want to smell like booze when I go home, horse face. Mom’s going to kill me.”

“Who in their right mind would jump into the freezing lake naked then, Eren?”

You chuckled, remembering how Eren talked your ear off when he went home after his retreat with the soccer team. He claimed that his dick was numb to the point that he couldn’t feel anything while jerking off. Mikasa had to cover your ears while he went to that part and Armin was begging for the brown-haired boy to stop tainting his mind.

“Okay, can you guys stop arguing for just one minute?” Sasha pleaded through a mouthful of hash browns. “I’ll start spinning the bottle now!”

The game started quite well. Armin had to perform a dance number in front of all of you because Sasha wanted to let everyone know how awesome Armin was at dancing. Jean chose truth and was asked who he found hot among the girls his year. (Nobody missed his subtle glance at Mikasa, who was focused on the drink in her glass.) Reiner was asked who he last hooked up with and surprisingly, he downed a shot instead of answering. When Sasha chose dare, Reiner thought it was a good idea to witness the girl put as many marshmallows in her mouth without stopping. (Sasha managed to empty the bag.) Annie was dared to text her crush and the next second, Armin’s phone dinged with an incoming message. You and Sasha cooed at the blonde boy’s burning face. Mikasa also chose truth and drank her shot when she was asked by Annie about the person she likes. (Jean perked at this but quickly deflated when the black-haired girl held no hesitation in drinking the shot.)

Then, the bottle landed on you.

Your eyes met with Mikasa, knowing that she will be the one asking the infamous question of ‘truth or dare?’

“Dare.”

Sasha and Connie ooh’d at the background.

“I dare you to kiss the person you’re thinking about a lot.”

It was a masked question. Mikasa wanted to ask you about your recent crush but she had to be conspicuous about it. Of course, she noticed how you and Eren became close these days. Always sitting with each other during lunch and how the green-eyed boy always offered his jacket whenever you felt cold. She had to confirm it. She didn’t want Armin to pick up on her nerves every time she witnessed how Eren looked at you like you placed the stars in the sky. She was only worried for you since Eren had the most experience when it comes to dating among the four of you, having only dated one person the whole duration of middle school.

However, Mikasa didn’t expect you to place a hand on her cheek, your face inches from hers.

The entire circle became silent, jaws dropped at the scene unfolding in front of their eyes. Mikasa didn’t pay them any attention. Her eyes were wide while yours were hesitantly trained on her lips. She didn’t register that you whispered along the lines of only kissing her cheek. Her heart was threatening to burst out of her chest. Her face was burning with a beautiful shade of rouge. Her mind was muddled, panicking that you were so close to her. Mikasa remembered the times you left her breathless. They were unexpected moments that only occurred in a mundane situation but it was you. You were different from the people in Connie’s house right now. You were a force to be reckoned with, always interrupting Mikasa’s focus during class because you were there in her thoughts. You were a sight to behold, having a fair share of admirers, one of them being Mikasa, to which she was never aware until now. You were everything held tightly in a small body that fit exactly against Mikasa's when the two of you hug after a bad day.

You were so beautiful.

But Mikasa couldn’t handle the continuous pounding of her heart.

She turned around and immediately darted to the bathroom, leaving you frozen along with your gawking friends.

Oh, how Mikasa regretted running away the moment the door was flat on her back.

> take me back to the time we had our very first fight

Mikasa was eighteen when she heard the words she dreamed of coming from your lips.

“Why don’t you go back to Eren?” Mikasa grumbled, her eyes glaring at the road in front of her, knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel a little too tight. “Why would you even go home with me? He was offering to drive you back and you’re here sitting in my car.”

There was no reason why she was being angry right now. The past years in high school were pure torture for Mikasa and the soccer game that happened hours prior was the cherry on top of the sundae. When their school’s soccer team won at the final game of the seniors, she had to watch Eren pick you up, laughing while twirling you around. Everybody knew how much Eren liked you since he wasn’t afraid of expressing his feelings to a crowd of people. However, even with Eren’s efforts of wooing you, you always brushed it off, saying that he is still one of your best friends. There was no denying that Eren was courting you with the whole school as the witness. It was like a love story waiting to hit its climax — two childhood friends intertwining their fates together until they found forever with each other.

Mikasa had to suppress a groan at the thought. Maybe she watched too many romance movies to think straight at the moment. She honked the horn too loudly, making you flinch in the passenger seat. Her gray eyes were a raging storm and even the biker at the side of the street wasn’t safe as she turned her head to the window, shouting, “Hey, there’s a bike lane for a reason!”

“Mika, calm down,” you pleaded.

She scoffed in disbelief, remaining silent even though you were expecting to hear her answer.

“Why are you so angry right now? I don’t know how to fix this if you’re going to be so quiet over it.”

The car stopped in front of your house and you didn’t even notice how Mikasa practically broke the speed limit. It was a good thing there weren’t any cops doing their patrols on your side of town. Now that there was finally time for you to ask her questions, you turned to face her. You pursed your lips at the sight of her stony visage, face still so beautiful that it made your sketches of her look like nothing.

Mikasa has been ignoring you the past few weeks. You noticed that it was only when Eren was around. You looked away at the thought, heart-pounding that maybe Mikasa finally realized her feelings for the green-eyed boy. You never fail to notice how she was constantly hovering around the boy, reminding him of the schoolwork he was missing or his forgotten lunch. It always squeezed your chest too hard.

You tried reaching for her hand, only to be swatted away. “Mika,” you whispered brokenly.

“Do you like Eren?”

Oh, so that was it.

You schooled your expression in a blank one, licking your lips in nervousness. She wanted to make sure there was nothing between you and Eren so that she can finally tell him her feelings. “Why are you asking that?”

“Stop answering my questions with another question.”

You had enough of this. “Then what do you want me to say?”

Mikasa threw her hands up in the air, shrugging her shoulders in disbelief. “I don’t know! Your honest answer, I guess. It seems to me like you do like him. With you, all cuddled up with that long-haired idiot every single day. Is it the long hair? Do you like people with long hair? If that’s the case, I’ll grow my hair! Just give me a few years at most.”

You looked at her in confusion and frustration. “What are you talking about, Mikasa?”

She flinched. You never called her by her full first name. It was always Mika for you. She was always Mika for you. You were the only one allowed to call her that aside from her parents. Mikasa turned abruptly, taking you by surprise as she placed both of her hands on your arms, firmly grasping them to make you meet her desperate eyes. “I’m just making sure that you don’t like him because...” She faltered, not knowing what to say next. Is she even confessing to you right now? Years of pent-up feelings beginning to rise and overflow because of the stars gradually appearing in your eyes. Her mouth was running on its own and she was beginning to feel the shame bubbling in her stomach.

“Because … Eren is not the only one who looks at you like you placed the stars in the sky. He’s not the only one wanting to keep you warm on a cold day. He’s not the only one experiencing euphoria whenever you’re around.” She blinked away the tears building in her eyes.

“He’s not the only one in love with you.”

“You are so dense, you know?”

“What?”

Mikasa reeled back but your hands finding their way on top of hers stopped her from backing away any further. Now, you were the one looking at her like she created the entire universe in front of your eyes. You were looking at her like she’s the first snowflake making its way on top of your nose. You were looking at her like those times you were inside your treehouse, under the fairy lights hung on the walls. You were looking at her as if she was euphoria personified. Because she is. Mikasa is so breathtakingly ethereal, your surroundings becoming more transparent by the minute as you focused on her. Gently transferring your hands on her cheeks, you pulled you close until both of your foreheads were tenderly pressed against one another.

“It’s you.”

Her breathing hitched.

“It has always been you, Mikasa Ackerman. Since that day you rejected my kiss when we were fourteen.”

Tears became more prominent in both of your eyes.

“Not Eren or anybody who was rumored to be going out with me.”

She closed her eyes tightly.

“I’m in love with you.”

Mikasa opened her eyes, revealing the entire cosmos you adored.

“I love you and only you.”

It’s not a dream, the two of you sharing your first kiss that was more than what the movies described.

> they never believed we'd really fall in love

Mikasa was twenty when she had the courage of telling the entire world you’re the love of her life.

“Oh, my God, I knew it!” Sasha screeched inside the café you and Mikasa chose to have your group study session. Most eyes inside the café turned to your table since Sasha planted her hands on your table with enough force to attract attention. You laughed nervously and apologized to some of the people inside the café but the brown-haired girl still showed no signs of sitting down. You can see Mikasa placing a hand on her forehead, sighing at the third member of your trio. Sasha, however, was experiencing the milestone of a lifetime. She flickered her gaze between you and your girlfriend, eyes sparkling in obvious excitement and adoration. “And thank God you two finally got together! I had to endure Mikasa moping around during high school.”

“We are dating for two years now,” Mikasa dryly stated. “We didn’t get together recently.”

You placed a gentle hand on hers, smiling at the black-haired girl before turning to Sasha. “We tried keeping our relationship a secret for two years but judging from your first statement, it seems like we couldn’t conceal it that well.”

Sasha finally sat down, picking up her fork with some unattended carbonara on her plate. “I had a hunch. Well, not only me, Connie and I. Ever since I got to know you, [Name], I always admired your friendship with our Mikasa here.” She pointed her fork at you and Mikasa. “Yes, Mikasa treated all her friends in some special way. For me, she tells me not to eat too much.” Mikasa eyed Sasha’s plates of lunch. “For Armin, she tends to be gentler, I mean, you know Armin, softest boy on the planet. For Eren, she’s like his mother.”

“Somebody has to do it.” Mikasa rolled her eyes, making you laugh. “He never listens to Carla any more.”

“But for you, missy,” the brown-haired girl leaned forward with a teasing smirk, “Mikasa becomes all of these. Who would’ve ever thought that that childhood friend story circulating between you and Eren became you and Mikasa instead?” She leaned back and shrugged. “I never liked Eren for you anyways.”

“Same,” the black-haired girl simply stated, taking a bite of her pizza before offering you some. “I heard you wanted this café’s pizza.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a bite of the pizza Mikasa was holding in front of you. “Annie’s right, the pizza in this restaurant tastes amazing.” You felt your girlfriend’s thumb brushing at the corner of your lips, wiping the pizza sauce smeared there.

The brown-haired girl sitting in front of you two squealed with hands covering her mouth. “You two are so cute together!” Yours and Mikasa’s face flushed, making Sasha gush again. The gray-eyed girl sighed deeply, placing her head on your shoulder to cover her red face, making you laugh at how adorable your partner is. “Wait, have you talked about this to your parents?”

You and Mikasa looked at each other, that Thanksgiving dinner flashing through your minds at the moment.

You were supposed to be enjoying the scrumptious feast your and Mikasa’s mothers prepared but you and your girlfriend were too stiff to participate in the casual talk flittering the table. The previous night, Mikasa opened the idea of telling your parents that you were dating each other. At first, you disagreed because you have seen how this would affect Mikasa. There was a time where some old woman looked at you two while you were on a date, yelling that you two should break up and find some man instead of finding comfort with the same sex. The black-haired girl nearly broke down when you arrived at your shared apartment and you reassured her that their opinions shouldn’t matter as long as you have each other. But now, these are your parents, of course, their perception of your relationship will always matter. Those worries soon vanished when your fathers rejoiced, the negative thoughts replaced with tears of relief rolling down on your and Mikasa’s cheeks.

“It’s about time, you know,” your dad smiled.

“We were supposed to place a bet but we were scolded,” Mikasa’s father sheepishly admitted.

“You shouldn’t bet on the girls’ relationship!” Mikasa’s mother replied, her playful expression turned soft when she turned to you two. “Don’t ever think we would go against this. We have been watching you two grow up and we always knew that there was a possibility that you’ll come into terms with your feelings for one another.”

Your mom perked up with glee visible on her face. “So … when’s the wedding?”

You shared a laugh with the love of your life. “They’re planning a wedding as we speak.”

“Make me one of your bridesmaids please!”

“I think you’re suited to be [Name]’s maid of honor instead.”

“Hell yeah!”

> we were sitting at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee

Mikasa was twenty-three when she knew you are the constant in her life.

Graduation was only a few months ago and you have never felt so happy in your life. Gone were the days slumped in front of your laptop way past midnight trying to perfect your thesis papers. Gone was the day where caffeine was the only thing keeping you going during exams. Gone were the days you had laboratory periods that span the whole half of the day. All the stress was piling up on your shoulders the past four years, molding themselves in a huge ball that made you think you carried the entire world as Atlas did. Now you got your degree and you were ready to settle with the person driving the car with ease along the road leading to your neighborhood. As you stared at her side profile, you smiled, knowing that she has been in every part of your life, in your downtimes and zeniths brought by your achievements. You vaguely remembered how the car stopped in front of Mikasa’s house, the two of you immediately making your way towards their backyard.

Years of care were seen in her mother’s flower and vegetable garden but the only thing that took your breath away was the treehouse she surprised you with when you were both eleven. You blinked at the pristine condition of the small castle in the canopy of green, your smile pulling on the corners of your lips. “I can’t believe it’s still here.” A hand made its way on the small of your back, its warmth seeping through your French chiffon floral dress. You looked up at Mikasa, her casual ensemble of her gray suit and white shirt sending your heart in a frenzy. You pulled on her collar, your lips meeting hers in a slow dance, her hand on your back transferring around your waist.

When you pulled away, Mikasa placed her forehead against yours, her breath tickling your face. “Let’s visit our castle, shall we?”

The inside of the treehouse was still the same as ever. Aside from the thick layer of dust covering every surface of the small abode, it still gave the same feeling when you first laid your eyes on it. The knick-knacks you and Mikasa placed were still in the same position as you left them. The star projector you brought when you were thirteen was placed in the middle of the treehouse. You made your way to it and a sea of stars filled the crevices of the treehouse after gently turning it on. A myriad of purples and blues painted themselves on the ceiling, swirls of galaxies accompanied the constellation map you knew by heart when you were a kid. You faced Mikasa, only for your breath to hitch at the sight of her kneeling on one knee on the dusty floor. The first thought coming to your mind was how the dust would cling to her gray slacks. But that quickly erased itself when Mikasa tenderly presented a small velvet box.

“You made me believe in love, magic, myself, and the universe,” Mikasa whispered things meant for your ears only. “The way you love me and the way I look at you makes life worth living. Every single minute I’ve spent with you, I wanted to stop time to preserve it in my memory. I wanted to swim in your divine because I swear, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I promise to give you everything to make you the happiest woman in the world. I’ll still look at you like the stars that shine no matter how many years go by. You deserve the very best, someone who will back you up without limits, let you grow without borders, and love you without end. So, [Name],” she opened the small box, revealing the most beautiful piece of jewelry — a golden band with a sparkling diamond at the center of smaller gems shaped like stars, at the sides of the huge gem were crescent moons, “will you let me be the one?”

You were crying now, you never thought that this would happen.

The woman of your dreams was kneeling in front of you and there was only one answer that will seal your fate with hers.

“Yes, Mikasa, always and forever.”

> we'll rock our babies on that very front porch

Mikasa was twenty-five when she wanted a small family with you.

“How about using Eren?”

“Mika, why would you suggest that!”

“I mean, he has the hots for you.”

“I can’t believe you’re selling me to one of our friends.”

“Don’t leave my side. Here’s a kiss as an apology.”

“You’re lucky I love you, Mika.”

“And I love you, too.” Mikasa paused, turning the laptop to you as she opened the tab for one website she found. “How about adopting a toddler?”

You looked at a website displaying one of the orphanages in the city, chest filled with butterflies at the next step in your life with Mikasa.

“I think that’s a perfect idea, Mika.”

“I think so, too, Mrs. Ackerman.”

[mystic-shadows42]

Troubled

A/N: A lot of back and forth in the beginning. Sorry for my crappy writing.

Pairing: Hvitserk x reader

Summary: Being involved with Hvitserk has consequences that you weren’t quite prepared for. Hvitserk isn’t one to commit to anything serious unless it involves fighting.

Warnings: Language, some sexual content, and some violence

You cursed yourself at how stupid you had been that night with Hvitserk. It was unbeknownst to you that he had been the man-whore of Kattegat. 

You were only visiting on behalf of your brothers who were set to arrive a couple of days after you.

Hvitserk was the first to greet you to Kattegat. He seemed sincere when showing you around. He was nice and gifted you with presents when your brothers were late to arrive.

You were naive. 

Your brothers had always protected you from the outside world especially from men. This was the only time where you weren’t accompanied by them.

You were mad that you allowed yourself to succumb to him. You let Hvitserk take you to his room. He was gentle with you and whispered sweet words in your ear.

At that moment you were in bliss whenever he would thrust into you and hold onto your hips. His rough calloused hands were the only ones to ever touch your soft skin. All that has never been touched before besides your own hands.

You remember tracing your fingers over his scars when he intertwined his hands with yours and lifted them above your head. It was a night you wouldn’t ever forget.

A tear came out of your eye as you remembered that day.

When morning came, Hvitserk wasn’t in bed with you. It panged you but you looked for him nonetheless. You walked around until you were stopped by one of the Lothbrok brothers.

They had directed you in the direction where they knew he was. The strange thing was that the brothers gathered around and watched you knock on the door.

Hvitserk answered while looking down trying to adjust his trousers. When he looked up and saw you there, he was surprised. You were about to speak when you stopped yourself short upon seeing a woman come out and kiss his cheek.

She didn’t pay you any attention as she walked past. You looked at the floor at a loss of words. Who was she? What was she doing with Hvitserk? Could he have really been with another woman while you were sleeping?

The heaviness in your chest hurt at the thought that he’d used you. 

You looked up at Hvitserk confused. You shook your head not knowing what to say or to make of the situation. Hvitserk didn’t show any type of emotion.

Another woman emerged from the room who was barely clothed with the fine linen-wrapped over herself. 

You tried your best not to show how hurt you were feeling. As you looked at the woman, you noticed that she wore the same jewelry that Hvitserk had gifted to you.

Hvitserk looked like he was going to say something but stopped himself short. The woman looked at your face and took in the situation. “Didn’t you know honey? Hvitserk gets around.”

You felt humiliated and stupid for falling for it all. It didn’t help that you allowed a tear to escape from your eye and that his brothers were laughing hysterically from behind.

Hvitserk didn’t say anything. All he did was clench his jaw and look away. You walked away immediately and harshly wiped your tears away.

On your way back to pack your belongings, you noticed quite a few women were all wearing that same jewelry. It disgusted you. He was marking all the women he’d ever slept with. 

The jewelry he gave away was never a sign of him being chivalrous.

Needless to say, you left that very day and gave away everything Hvitserk had gifted to you.

****

Reflecting back on those days while you threw up only made you bitter. You hardened your heart since the day you left Kattegat.

Now here you were hunched over, thinking back on the days that led to this one. This can no longer be hidden or doubted.

All the sick days and the soreness of your body weren’t just a coincidence anymore, it was a fact. The proof was nestling in your stomach.

You shuddered when you placed your hand on your stomach. It was time to accept the truth for what you suspected weeks ago.

You immediately dropped your hand from your stomach once you saw your brother’s boats arriving back.

You kicked dirt over your mess and decided to settle inside. It pained you to keep such a secret from your brothers. You were a close family.

Halfdan would likely be ecstatic while Harald might be disappointed. He had hoped to marry you off someday to someone with power to ensure your future and to secure more troops. 

You started to become antsy and paced the room. The noise of the crowd grew closer.

When the doors opened you took a deep breath and turned to face your brothers.

Only the eyes you were looking at did not belong to your brothers. They belonged to the one person whom you despised. Hvitserk Lothbrok.

He slowed his walk before stopping completely once he recognized you. He visibly swallowed before he spoke.

“What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

A look of confusion crossed his face.

“Ahhhh I see you’ve met my sister.” Your brother Harald spoke up while he walked up to you and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Sister?” Hvitserk said it almost as if that bothered him. “Seems as if your ‘sister’ never stuck around to tell me that.”

His words only infuriated you. He had no right to be irritated with you.

“You didn’t give me much choice.”

Harald stopped and watched the way you and Hvitserk exchanged looks. He was good at reading people.

“Both of you sit.”

Hvitserk shook his head. You knew he didn’t want anything to do with you especially when he finds out about the baby.

“I don’t want-“

“I said, sit down,” Harald said sternly making Hvitserk shut his mouth and sit down. “My dearest sister, is Hvitserk the father?” You had tried your hardest to keep the news from your brothers but nothing gets past Harald. “Don’t be so surprised. I’ve known from the start of your sickness. I’ve just been waiting for the bastard to reveal himself. Now that it’s come to my understanding that it may be Hvitserk.”

“Yes, it’s Hvitserk’s.”

Hvitserk stood up from his seat once he caught on. “No. I’m not-I can’t be. You have the wrong guy.” He was looking for any kind of excuse to get out of it.

“Are you suggesting my sister’s a whore then?”

Hvitserk gritted his teeth, not liking the position he was in. “I’m saying that perhaps your sister made a mistake.”

“I’ve been with no one else. Just because you go bed-hopping doesn’t mean I do the same.” You snapped as you stood up too.

“Well, you certainly did with me,” Hvitserk responded smugly.

All you saw was red. You pulled the sword from his side and held it up to his throat. Ivar walked in at that moment and stopped shortly assessing the situation.

Hvitserk was completely taken off guard, not expecting you to do that.

“I could kill you if I want to. You’ve been nothing but trouble since I met you. All you’ve done is degrade me.”

Harald rested his hand on your shoulder to calm you down. “Easy sister. I still have an alliance with these boys.”

You started to lower the sword in your hands. As you did, you pressed the tip of the blade in Hvitserk’s skin dragging it down his chest a bit before leaving him be.

He hissed at the contact but did nothing to stop you.

“Now return his weapon.” Your brother stated.

You threw the blade down and slid it across the room. Only Harald’s chuckle was heard echoing out the room. “Please excuse my sister. She has a worse temper than both me and my brother but I think the little one nestling in her belly is the one fueling the fire, don’t you think?”

Ivar shared a look with Hvitserk knowing what was finally going on. He didn’t look happy one bit.

“You’re with child?” Halfdan asked as he caught the last bit of what his brother Harald had said.

You only nodded, still feeling bitter towards Hvitserk. Halfdan engulfed you in a hug and lifted you from the ground much to Harald’s displeasure.

“Easy brother.”

“I can’t help it. I’m going to be an uncle! Now, who’s the lad?” His face turned serious once he asked his question.

“The one who has a new scar on his chest as a reminder of this day.”

Harald turned his head and looked unimpressed that it was Hvitserk.

“Let’s hope the baby has more of our traits.”

Harald was growing tired of all the distractions going on in the room. “Everyone sit.”

Sometimes your brother being your king annoyed you but you listened and obeyed.

“Now that we know that my sister is expecting, let’s get down to discussion. My sister and Hvitserk are going to be bound by their child. Why not make it official and have them marry. It’s an alliance forever forged under the eyes of the gods.”

Harald was making his case to Ivar more so than Hvitserk. You weren’t happy one bit but you weren’t about to interrupt until you were alone. Hvitserk on the other hand opposed it immediately.

“No, that’s not going to happen.”

Ivar tried to get him to sit back down but Hvitserk stormed off. Ivar looked angry and excused himself as he went after his brother.

When the doors closed you turned to face your brother. “How can you make a suggestion like that when you haven’t even discussed it with me? I’m already having a baby with that bastard of a man, now you want me to marry him?!”

“Sister, I’m looking after your best interest at heart. We secure two things out of this. You uphold your image having the father of your child by your side and we have an alliance with the Lothbrok’s.”

“I don’t care how people see me without the father of my child by my side. I don’t need him. Make an alliance regardless, just leave me out of it.”

“With you in it, it secures our alliance.”

“So you’re just using me?”

“Just think about it. You can make his life hell for all I care. Maybe he’ll die in battle but Ivar will still be bound to that alliance. Just as long as you don’t kill him yourself. This is for your safety as well as our people. Now you have more to think about with the baby on the way.”

“That’s a lot of self-restraint on my part,” you said bitterly.

Ivar and Hvitserk came back into the room and sat down in their seats. Hvitserk looked displeased and didn’t dare look anyone in the eye as he dragged his hand down his face. The wound you marked on his chest was bandaged and peaking a bit from under his shirt.

“We agree to your terms of an alliance by marriage.” Ivar smiled and nodded his head towards you. You briefly smiled back. You so badly wanted to scream and storm out of the room but you were taught better than to act like that.

“May I be excused brother?”

“Of course.”

You quickly left the room but not before you heard Ivar say something to Hvitserk about comforting his soon-to-be bride. You walked quickly feeling as if there wasn’t enough air for you to breathe.

You took long strides trying your best to be as far from everyone as possible. Knowing that Hvitserk was right behind only made you walk faster. You heard your name being called but you ignored it.

With each step, you could feel your heart beating faster and your throat constricting.

You would’ve kept on walking aimlessly but Hvitserk’s hand on your arm is what stopped you from falling into a ditch that you didn’t see.

He pulled you back and gave you an incredulous look.

You held up your hand to keep him from saying anything to you. You’ve heard enough for one day. You took a step away from him but Hvitserk wasn’t having any of that today either. He took two steps forward not wanting there to be any space between you both.

“Were you ever going to tell me about the baby?”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at him. “Now you’re claiming the baby? Just earlier you were adamant it was another’s.”

Hvitserk placed his hands on his hips looking elsewhere. He looked frustrated as he took a deep breath then turned to look at you.

“I wasn’t expecting this to happen. I came here with my brother to regroup with Harald. Then I’m told that I’m going to be a father and I have to marry. I know you despise this as much as I do.”

At least both of your feelings on the matter were the same. “Do you really have no children with anyone else?”

“You’re the first.”

You were surprised to hear that. Hvitserk bedded a lot of women yet you were the one to have his child. You were secretly scared of all of it but put on a brave face.

If only your brothers and everyone else knew just how scared you really were. They wouldn’t think you were so confident.

Though you knew better than to show any kind of weakness. Your mother taught you that. People preyed upon weakness, especially men. They’ll take and take until there’s nothing left to give.

So you always smiled when you’re hurting inside, you take insults and bite your tongue, and take any opportunity that’ll benefit you in the long run, even if you don’t like it.

“I’ll only marry you to protect my baby and my people. You won’t be needed for anything more than that.”

He knitted his brows as he looked at you. “Do you expect me to leave?” Your silence was all he needed for an answer. He chuckled lowly to himself. “I hate to disappoint but I’m not going anywhere. Not while you carry my heir.”

“Don’t you understand that I’m trying to make things easier for you?”

“Easier for me or for you? By cutting me out? Look I don’t want to have a baby right now, I’m young, I want to do other things than take care of a kid, but I’ll do whatever it takes to be there for them cause I know what it’s like to have an absent father. I don’t want that for our kid. I don’t want them to resent me the way I did mine. I know I may not be the best father but at least I’ll be there for everything. That’s more than what I can say for some of the other men out there who’d definitely take this opportunity and leave.”

You were taken off guard by what he had to say in a short amount of time. The look he was giving you was one of irritation. You already made up your mind about him without getting to know him further.

It was a case of misjudgment on your part. Hvitserk was a pig, but he wouldn’t stand to be called an absent father.

At least there was one good quality to him.

Tagged: @belovedcherry​ @lordsexmachine​ @lol-haha-joke​ @mariaenchanted​ @ethereallysimple​ @bababasti​ @ir-abelas-telanadas​ @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ @solinarimoon​

[mrslilyrogers]

Betrayal Part 7

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: (AU) Set in New York. You and Bucky have been married for 5 years. He’s the love of your life and you are his. At least, you thought you were until he started slipping away from you, coming home late and smelling of another woman’s perfume? You are in denial. Are you just losing your mind or are you really losing him?

Author’s notes: I’m so so sorry this took so long! I redid the whole thing. We’re going to back up a bit in this chapter and visit the past. Please check the warnings before reading. Also, my requests are open. Send ideas if you’re feeling particularly angsty! Or even fluff, I’d like to try my hand at it. As always, let me know what you think of this chapter! For tags, please send in ask! 

Warnings: Cheating, Angst, Abuse, Swearing

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  Part 5 Part 6

2 years ago.

Bucky tapped his fingers on the table as he checked his watch again. 8:15. Forty-five minutes late. Again. He let out a huge sigh, barely able to hold himself from scratching his eyes out. The curly-haired waitress went back to him with an apologetic look on her face, “I’m sorry, sir. My manager told me I really need to take your order now. There’s already a line waiting outside…” she let her sentence trail sheepishly. Bucky tried to ignore the heat creeping up his cheeks and gave her an unconvincing smile instead, reciting his order. When she left with visible relief on her face, he picked up his phone and called his wife again. He had tried to call and text her earlier but she hadn’t picked up.

“Hello?” Y/N answered, sounding frazzled and irritated as she cleaned up after her rude customer. He just had the audacity to leave a mess after complaining and whining about the wifi three times. She could barely keep her eyes from rolling. 

“Hey, babe. Where are you? I’ve been waiting for you at the restaurant,” Bucky’s defeated voice on the other line replied. 

“Oh shit!” She shrieked, attracting the heads of the other customers as she glanced at the clock on the wall. She had lost track of time. Bucky had been waiting for her for almost an hour. On their anniversary. Oh crap, crap, crap. 

“Oh my god, baby. I’m so sorry! I’m understaffed and I lost track of time! Could you please wait for me? I’m so sorry!” She quickly took off her apron and changed into the dress she had brought with her that morning for their date. Bucky had been planning this. He arranged for Lizzie’s babysitter and everything, practically bouncing off with excitement for this night. He wanted to try out this new restaurant and between raising Lizzie and making sure Winter Bakery was still making a profit, they haven’t seen much of each other lately. She just couldn’t find the time whereas Bucky’s stable position in Shield gave him more authority to delegate. And he literally had been trained for this for years. All those late-nighters at the university and all the grunt work he and Steve went through have finally paid up. They were at the top of their game, one of the youngest to acquire their positions. They were heroes in the investment banking world. Life was easy for him now, cherry on top of the cake. He only wished Y/N could be there with him. But she was still on shaky ground with her business and he fully understood that. 

“Of course! I already picked our appetizers though. They were trying their best to kick me out gently if I didn’t order anything,” 

“Oh, my poor Bucky. You should’ve flashed them your smile, charmed your way. They would’ve made you stay,” she replied, fixing her ponytail, not having the time to retouch her makeup anymore. This’ll just have to do. 

“Really, now. It was a waitress, you know.” He teased back. 

A beat before Y/N replied in mock seriousness. “In that case, don’t you dare. I’ll be there in 15!” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it. See you, babe. I love you--,” 

But before he could even finish his sentence, the line had dropped on the other end.  

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1 year ago.

“Daddy, look, apples!” Lizzie pointed from her seat in the grocery cart. Her legs swinging as she giggled at the heap of apples on their side. “Yeah, baby, you’re right.” Bucky replied absentmindedly, not even bothering to look as he stared confusedly at the bunch of green vegetables in front of him. The list Y/N gave him said scallions, but how the hell was he supposed to know which was which? Scallions, spring onions, green onions, they were all the same right? He suddenly regretted volunteering to do their grocery shopping alone, having no clue what half of the list Y/N prepared even meant. It was the weekend, they were all supposed to go together and then have a quick visit to the toy store after, for one more of Lizzie’s birthday gifts. She had just turned 3 a week ago and he couldn’t help but promise to let her pick out another doll. When Y/N had given him a pointed look while Lizzie clung on and gushed to him, he couldn’t help but to just give her a tiny shrug. He grew up with nothing, he was gonna give his little girl everything. But that morning when he thought the three of them finally had time to spend together, Y/N couldn’t make it again. She was having problems with her manager and had to go into work unexpectedly. Now, she wasn’t even answering his calls when he had to ask her about the most complicated grocery list he’s ever seen in his whole life. 

“Daddy, when are we getting my doll?” Lizzie asked again, looking up at him as she clutched her favorite white wolf stuffed toy. 

“After this, sweetheart.” He answered, preoccupied and calling Y/N again. This time when she didn’t answer, he gave up, grabbed the one nearest to him and hoped for the best. 

When he’s gotten halfway through the list and let Lizzie point at the snacks she wanted for school, he let his mind wander, when the hell had they become like this? He barely saw his wife anymore. Her problems with her bakery cafe, always dragging her away from them. He wished she could find competent people who would stay but if it weren’t her manager, it was her baker and so on. And if she was finally free, he’d be the one who was busy. It was hard and annoying but coupled that with taking care of an over-enthusiastic three-year-old, it was also exhausting.

He missed Y/N and he wished he could spend time with her. He completely understood that she was always needed at work. He had been through that in their early 20s, but they didn’t have a kid then to compete for their time and understanding it was different from actually living it. Their marriage had become stagnant. The banality of their everyday life, a stark contrast to how they used to be when they were just a couple of kids off college who rented a too-small apartment with his little sister, Becca. Time has flown and he’s finally achieved the life he’s always wanted; a big duplex apartment, a steady high-income job and a family he had always yearned for but never really knew he needed. All of the things he promised himself when he was younger and had nothing, he had now and more, yet there was still something missing. He missed the thrill of his life, chasing his dreams had always kept him motivated, distracted. Now that he had it all, he was at his wits’ end. Maybe it was because they were also growing apart, he could feel it. Y/N had always been able to make him happy and whole; he had always been able to rely on her emotionally. She was the better part of him and now that she was becoming distant, he hung onto her like a lifeline but his insistence on going on vacations as a family wherever his wife and daughter wanted went unheard, all his attempts at romancing cancelled. 

Even as he lined up now for the cashier, he whipped out his phone to text her. His hands had been busy typing when a brooding, dark-haired man stood behind him dressed in all black. His arms were muscled despite his age and the sagging skin on his right arm holding a tattoo of an odd skull with tentacles extending out of it was barely covered by his shirtsleeve. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Bucky,” a familiar husky voice mocked from behind him. 

Bucky immediately felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, the voice sending a deep chill down his spine, making him go rigid as he slowly turned around, the blood draining from him when he went face to face with the man who had made his life a living hell, the man who not only broken him physically but in spirit as well. Repeatedly. 

“You some errand boy now? I didn’t raise you to be like that, you know,” He continued to mock, tipping his chin to the cart with Lizzie still on it. 

“Do you know him, daddy?” She asked, holding her little wolf tighter as she watched the stranger warily. 

“Hey there, sweetie. Your daddy didn’t tell you about me? That’s weird. I raised him and your aunt Rebecca a long time ago. My name is Rumlow,” he flashed her a chilling smile, stepping closer to offer his hand. That’s when the fog in Bucky’s brain cleared. He moved with a lightning fast reflex, stepping in between them as he got in Rumlow’s face, fisting his collar harshly in one hand, 

“Don’t you dare go near her,” his dark and low voice had threatened, dripping venom. His eyes had dilated, almost turning black as he shoved him hard. Rumlow’s grating laugh echoed around them, bringing back all those awful memories he had buried deep inside his head. 

“I’ve taught you well, boy. Can’t say I’m not proud,” He clapped and actually smiled at him smugly. At this point, Lizzie had started crying making Bucky even more furious. 

“I don’t ever want to see your face again. And if you go near my daughter again, I’ll make you fucking regret it. Do you understand?” His threats went on deaf ears as Rumlow broke out into a full-fledged grin. 

“I’d love to see you try, James. You’ve grown soft,” He accused, eyeing Lizzie and the grocery he had still lined up, several heads already looking at them. 

“Lucky for you. I have a new son here,” He continued, tilting his head to the boy standing by his mostly empty cart-- save for the beer and the liquor. Bucky flicked his attention to the boy and he felt his world spin as he saw himself in him with his eyes haunted, wary and afraid. He couldn’t have been older than eight. Rumlow smirked at the look on Bucky’s face, already detecting the turmoil brewing inside him. He had succeeded. He always knew Bucky was weak, his emotions his downfall. The fear and guilt clearly written in Bucky’s eyes made Rumlow gloat as he talked to the boy, 

“What did I say, Bert, huh? You’ll only have food if you go get it yourself. Why are you still standing there?” 

The boy looked around the big grocery store, mentally taking note of the stalls and where they were currently at, memorizing it in case he got lost but still, he didn’t move. Bucky looked at Rumlow and he saw the same look he’d always had directed at him before, his taunting eyes daring the boy to go or face the consequences. 

“But I’m scared,” the boy replied, his voice small and frightened. Rumlow moved to him, bending his knees to get to his eye level. “Well then, you just won’t have to eat,” he told him in a hushed voice, pouting and mocking. 

Bucky didn’t have to hear it to know the exact words, buried memories rushing back to the surface. He heard it countless times directed at him. The boy ran to the nearest stall, his heart pounding and hoping Rumlow would still be at that same spot when he came running back. Bucky knew the feeling, it was like he was living it all over again. As much as he wanted to help, he was rooted to the spot, even Lizzie’s crying couldn’t move him. Rumlow stood back up and faced him. “You were always my favorite,” he told him proudly as he pushed his own cart away from them, no doubt to give Bert an even harder chance of finding him. 

Just before he got too far, he swiftly turned around, feigning innocence as he said, “Oh and by the way, say hi to Rebecca for me,”  His lips twisted up into a sneering smirk as he left, whistling without a care in the world. And just like that Bucky was moving, grabbing Lizzie and getting out of that store as fast as he could, hoping Rumlow would stay out of his life forever. 

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“I’m never letting you do the groceries again!” Y/N screeched, a horrified look on her face as she stared at their fridge. After the incident with Rumlow, Bucky had brought Lizzie to the toy store, allowing her to buy all the stuffed toys and dolls she wanted instead of just the previously promised one doll. They had gone to lunch after, he kept Lizzie distracted as much as possible to forget the man she had just met. When she brought him up again, he told her it was just a friend he didn’t like very much and that she shouldn’t bring it up to her mom because it was nothing, he promised he never had to see that man again. Lizzie seemed satisfied with his answer and went back to her usual chirpy self. On their way home, they passed by another grocery store. He had mindlessly strolled the aisles and grabbed whatever he thought they needed, his head at a different place, much as it still is now.

“Bucky, we don’t need four cartons of milk, why would you even get this?” Y/N asked incredulously, shaking her head as she chuckled. 

Bucky had been staring off into space, not hearing what his wife had been saying. “Uhm, hello Bucky, you still with me?” she teased, waving a hand in front of his face. 

“Oh sorry, what was that?” He asked, glancing up at her from his perch by the kitchen counter. The coffee he had brewed, now cold in his hands. 

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, looking at him with concern in her eyes. 

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” he waved dismissively. Y/N felt a pang of guilt. He’d been bugging her to spend more time together, planning outings and dates that she never seemed to find time for. 

“Well, I finally have the day free. Why don’t we go out, watch a movie or have a picnic? It’ll be fun,” she suggested, draping a hand over his shoulder while her chin rested on the other, her elbow propped up on the countertop to keep an eye level with him. 

“I can’t, I’m sorry, babe. I promised to meet up with Thor,” he moved away from her touch, standing up. Y/N looked at him confusedly, “Okay, how about after?”

“Gotta go over some accounts with Sam, sorry love. I’ll be back before dinner,” He gave her a quick kiss to the cheek before heading out. Y/N stared after him, brows knitted, before shrugging. She’ll just get her errands around the house done then. 

After pounding the punching bag in Thor’s gym incessantly, Bucky found himself aimlessly walking around the streets, he just needed to clear his head. The little boy’s face was still etched in his mind as he opened the door to a bar. A little too early, he knew but he couldn’t shake off the nagging thought plaguing his mind. 

How could he have let that monster roam free while he had lived his life without even a glance back? 

_______________________________________________________________________

Years ago.

Bucky held Becca’s hand as they ascended the rickety steps of their new home. They had just lost their parents and were now moving into an unfamiliar house. The case worker had told them they were lucky not to be separated and that they shouldn’t worry; they were getting a good foster father who would take care of them from now on. 

“I had interviewed him myself, you see,” She told the children, beaming with pride. 

“I couldn’t have found a better one for you guys, why, this area is still very close to where you grew up in. You could still visit your old haunts,” She ruffled Becca’s hair, trying to lighten the mood while the little girl just moved farther away, hiding behind her big brother. The worn-out door which at once might have been painted pristine white but now had chippings hanging off of it suddenly opened with a creak, a man with a charming and easy nature stepped out with a warm smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“You guys are here! Welcome, welcome, please come in!” He gestured humbly to his house. Becca squeezed Bucky’s hand tighter which he squeezed back in return, reassuring her. There was something about this man that wasn’t quite right. He seemed relaxed and easy-going, a smile continuously plastered on his face but there was a lethality to him that the children couldn’t seem to shake off, almost as if it was buried deep inside waiting to be unleashed. The case worker hung on his every word, giggling as they talked. She slapped his arm with the horrible looking tattoo that gave Becca a fright. The children barely moved from the sofa they were seated at after the introductions. 

“It’s usually like this. Don’t worry. They start to open up after a while,” the case worker sympathized with Brock, the man who introduced himself as their new foster father; he would treat them as his own, he had promised. 

“It’s alright. I understand. After my wife, I’ve been all alone and this, this is a blessing to me,” He told her as he turned to the children. Her hand strayed to his arm again and lingered there. 

“Oh, Brock, you are a good man. They’re great children, they won’t give you trouble.” She replied, patting his arm for reassurance. It didn’t miss Bucky how she hung off his every word. 

“But I should get going, I will check up on you in a week. Children, be good. You have my number if you need anything,” She stood up, smoothing the wrinkles on her blazer.

“Wait, you’re leaving us already?” Bucky couldn’t help the whine that escaped his voice. He didn’t miss the darkness that spilled over Brock’s face for a split second before he carefully put his smile back on again. 

“I’ll be back in a week, Bucky. Don’t you worry,” the case worker smiled before she walked out the door leaving him and Becca to a stranger. 

When she was out of sight, Brock had suddenly changed his demeanor. The smile on his face had turned into a scowl when he faced them. “Alright, listen up both of you,”  he boomed, his voice cruel. “Grab your things and get on to your rooms. I don’t want to hear any noise. No running around, and if I see you making a mess. You bet your little asses, you’ll pay for it,” He stood up and left them to their bags. 

“But Mr. Brock, I’m thirsty,” Becca piped up, looking up at him timidly. The man’s grating laugh rumbled as he threw his head back, shaking it.  

“That’s Rumlow to both of you, you hear me?  Don’t make that mistake again. Now, come here,” He said, beckoning both the children to come over. Once they reached the kitchen, he pointed to the high cupboard. “You see that?” He asked Becca, dropping low to get to her eye level. When she just nodded her head, he continued, “That’s where the glasses and the plates are. If you want something in this house, you go get it yourself. I’m not your nanny,” He held Becca’s face in his hand roughly. His fingers wrapped around her cheeks tight as he held her by the chin. Bucky felt his fists clench at his sides, pushing Rumlow as far as he could with his eleven year old might.  

“Stop that!” He screamed. Their parents never hurt them. How dare this man think he could do this to his little sister? 

“Oh you wanna be the man of the house?” Rumlow jeered, shoving Bucky back making him fall to the floor. Becca’s sniffles grew louder as she tried to stop her crying, her shoulders shaking from her effort. As Bucky lay sprawled, Rumlow scooted down menacingly to him, 

“You dare push me when you were just whining like a little bitch a while ago, you wanna man up? Alright, I’ll allow it,” he taunted, pondering it for a moment before his sinister smile came back on. “Let’s see how long you’ll last protecting your little sister.” He gripped his face by the chin, fingers squeezing exceedingly tight on his cheeks before he pushed him off and he hit the floor. 

“I won’t be some parent to you that you could twist around your little fingers, no. I’ll make you into the best man you could be. I will teach you about order. And order only comes through pain,” He drilled into him like a soldier as he stretched his legs back up, his measured steps going to the fridge to fish out a beer. He took a long gulp before he continued, 

“And the sooner you learned that, the better,” 

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

Bucky sat alone at one of the benches by the field at his school, choosing solitude over the roar of the cafeteria after a particularly bad morning at home. Their foster father had woken up drunk and had haphazardly thrown things at them when Bucky accidentally burnt the eggs he had been cooking for his and Becca’s packed lunch for school. He picked on the peanut butter sandwich he prepared, not having the appetite to eat when he heard jeering voices from a group of boys and sounds of flesh being hit again and again with accompanying grunts of pain. He felt his feet move on instinct when he found them by the bleachers, a scrawny boy at the center of a group huddling over him, they were laughing as he tried to fight them off, not once being able to land a punch. The blood pumped in Bucky’s veins, a constant beating in his ears, as he grabbed the biggest of the bullies by the collar and harshly yanked him off the tiny, blonde boy now sprawled on the floor with his skinny arms covering his face. When one of the other kids tried to punch him, he deftly moved out of the way and delivered a swift blow to his stomach, making sure to spare his face so as not to get in trouble. That was how Rumlow did it, might as well use the same trick right? 

“What? Who wants to go next?” He threatened, loving the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the power he had with defending someone so helpless. The lanky blonde boy stood up beside him, blood dripping from his mouth as he held both his fists up, “I can do this all day,” he said, catching his breath but his stance clearly indicated he could barely stand up straight. Bucky just looked at him weirdly, not knowing whether to find him stupid or brave. The bullies stood against them, unsure. Bucky was the same age as them, only slightly bigger. Him and the blonde boy were still clearly outnumbered but Bucky’s eyes held a lethal strength in them, his body coiled with unleashed brutality, ready to fight. The bullies scrambled out of there as fast as they could, their feet tripping over them. 

“Yeah next time, pick on someone your own size!” he hollered before looking back at the blonde boy who looked younger than them but held himself with such maturity that it didn’t seem possible. He decided right then and there he was going to make him his new friend. Rumlow had always taught him about his belief of the natural order of the world, that strength and might always won the day and that order could only be achieved through pain. If you could inflict it on others, you were stronger, better. Weaker men were useless, had to be beaten up and put in their place. “That’s just the way of the world,” he had said. But Bucky was old and smart enough to see right through his facade. He was a bully, feeding off of people who couldn’t fight back. Bucky was going to be different, he wouldn’t bow down to his will. He just needed to protect his sister, spare her from the taint of Rumlow’s anger and prove that he wouldn't become the man Rumlow has been conditioning him to be. 

“You alright?” Bucky asked the boy standing beside him who was touching the bruise forming on his forehead.

“Yeah, thanks for helping me,” he replied sheepishly, ashamed he couldn’t fight for himself.

“Next time, just don’t provoke them, they aren’t worth it.” 

“But they were wrong. Bullies, I’d always stand up to them,” the blonde brushed his hair back from his forehead, determination steeling his voice. Bucky smiled, maybe he could learn a thing or two from this boy too. 

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Steve, what’s yours?”

“Bucky. Steve, you’re a little punk. You know that?” he said teasingly, laughing. 

Steve grinned back, “Jerk,” 

_______________________________________________________________________

Present

The light filtered into the room as the curtains were drawn back harshly causing Bucky to groan on his bed, flitting a pillow to cover his eyes. 

“Buck, come on. Get up,” Steve’s firm voice spoke through the fog in his mind. 

“Get out, Steve, I’m sleeping.” he replied, turning his back to the hand shaking his shoulder.

“How long are you going to do this? It’s been two weeks. Have you even talked to your family yet?” Steve’s judgmental voice rang out, hard and unforgiving. 

“She doesn’t even wanna see me,” he huffed, anger at himself boiling in his veins. He hasn’t seen his daughter in two weeks. Y/N’s short, cold replies to his messages were just updates on how Lizzie was doing, anything regarding Y/N, he had no idea about. He didn’t even know what sort of excuses she made up for Lizzie, how his “work trip” kept getting extended. When the hell could they keep that charade up? He was lucky enough she was letting him talk to his daughter on the phone for a few minutes every once in a while. He sat up on the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he reached for the bottle of whiskey at the bedside table. These days he could only fall asleep when he’s had one too many to drink and even then, he’d still wake up with a headache that could only be dulled by alcohol. He barely even made it to work everyday. Sam had been good enough to cover for him, staying on neutral ground with everything that’s happening to his marriage although his eyes said otherwise, disappointment etched in them. All the while Steve had ignored him the entire time since the hospital. No amount of apologies moved him from his stance except today, when he suddenly barged into the hotel room Bucky has been renting like he owned the place. 

“Jesus, Bucky, stop that!” He swiped the bottle Bucky held between his lips, splashing amber liquid on his shirt and bed. 

“Damn it, Steve! Look what you did!  Give that back,” Bucky held his arm out, his reflexes slow as he tried to grab it from his friend. 

“Jesus Christ. You smell terrible. How much have you had to drink last night?” Steve fanned the air around him trying to rid the stench of alcohol and sweat.

“How the hell did you even get in here?” Bucky’s pissed off voice grumbled but one look at Steve’s intense stare with his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, standing straight as a drill sergeant, arms crossed at his chest with his muscles bulging out of his fitted gray Under Armour shirt; he knew. The punk had intimidated his way in. No doubt leaving a poor breathless, flustered receptionist in his wake. 

“You could get that receptionist fired, you know?” He tried appealing to his best friend’s better nature.

“You wouldn’t tell. Plus, it isn’t as if she didn’t get a hefty tip. Go take a shower, Buck, you stink.” Steve didn’t budge, staring him down with a disgusted look on his face. Bucky just scoffed, 

“And then what? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Y/N kicked me out, man. Just go home, you’re wasting your time.” 

Steve’s hardened face softened as he looked at his friend. His eyes were puffy, his skin pale as he scratched his wildly unkempt beard, his greasy hair sticking out on one side. What the hell had happened to Bucky? How had it gone so bad for his friend in a matter of days? He suddenly moved out of instinct, collecting clothes strewn everywhere and packed them into the suitcase at the corner of the room. 

“Steve, what the hell are you doing?” Bucky exhaled loudly. It was too early for this. Where the hell was his drink? 

“Get your ass moving, Bucky. You’re staying at my place,”

[liquid-luck-00]

Connections 1

Chapter 1

this is based on @thepeacetea daminette soulmate au

Masterlist *** Next

~~~~~~~~~~ Knowing a person’s true soulmate is common in this world, but the way it manifests in different ways for everyone. For many this was simply the name of their other half, others were cryptic that ranged as a symbol for the other, a nickname, persona, and even half of a symbol where the other completes. These made up around 98% of the population, however the 2% were rare. This is where Marinette fell into, she and her soulmate share an invisible connection.

---

When Marinette was three her parents were fostering a girl her age, her name was Lila Rossi. She could tell that this girl knew nothing other than to lie. She was the perfect child when others were around but if she got Marinette alone, she was a devil from hell.

Two years passed and Lila was adopted and became Lila Dupain-Cheng and Marinette felt like she was being replaced. She had her parents wrapped up in the palms of her hands and nothing Marinette did ever seemed to be enough.

Unfortunately, on her fifth birthday she realized it was true Lila took her place. Marinette bounced downstairs on her birthday to be completely devastated. Maman and Papa were eating breakfast and a gift was set on the table.

“Good morning Maman, Papa” she was smiling and gave her parents a kiss. And reached for the gift.

“leave that be Marinette” her mother said to the child “it is not for you” Marinette retreated and heard another voice.

“Hi Maman, papa” Lila stated and gave her ‘parents’ a hug and kiss, “Morning Marcie” she said with a fake smile and eyes that challenged her to do something. But Mari didn’t, she stayed calm and simply went to get breakfast.

“Marinette help me clean up and Lila dear go get dressed, your uncle James is coming to visit” papa stated as the meal was ending.

“Really uncle James!” Marinette couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t seen her uncle in almost three years but she knew that if uncle was coming that meant the Fang was too.

“Who is…” Lila began but there was a knock at the door. Maman went to the door and there stood Uncle James.

“where is my little rock star” Uncle James sated as soon as the doors opened. Marinette stood and was about to go hug her uncle when her papa cleared his throat.

“No hugs until you clean this mess.” Marinette stopped in her tracks gave a nod and began to clear the table.

“Well no hugs til this is done huh? Well let’s get Rock’ in” Marinette watched as her uncle came into the kitchen and started helping the little girl. They cleared everything in record time and Lila came back into the kitchen. Mari still in her pajamas hugged her uncle, “Now I guess my little Rockstar gets her birthday gift” the little girl let out a laugh and was bouncing up and down. He turned and said to his brother “I sent it a few days ago it should have arrived? Is this it?”

“No, it is not” her mother replied. Uncle James gave a small frown.

“Who is it for then?”

Maman scoffed “its for Lila of course, Marinette doesn’t deserve any gifts, besides the box it came in said it was addressed to Lila not Marinette. Go ahead dear open the gift” Lila smugly opened the gift and inside were paints, and pencils of every color, not to mention the sketch book.

“Thank you maman, papa” she hugged her parents and when she turned away, she grinned at Mari her uncle couldn’t believe this. Mari noticed he was about to scream at the liar, but Mari finally snapped.

“did you forget my Birthday, do you even care? She, she, she’s la shay’, 'iilaa kadhib (nothing, nothing but a liar)!” everyone was silent. Mari had her hands balled into fists and she was fuming.

Not a single person spoke until her mother “what did you say?”

“That she is nothing but a liar” Mari turned and ran to her room.

---

Jagged was the first to realize it. He may not be fluent, but he knows enough for interviews that his niece just spoke Arabic. He looked shocked and turned from his little Rockstar to his brother and wife. Mari relayed what she had said and fled to her room. That was when he burst. He went off on his brother and sister in law. And once he tore them a new one, he climbed the stairs to find his niece.

“Hey little Rocker can I come in. His head popped into the attic room and saw her curled on the bed, she looked at him and only nodded her head. He went and sat next to her and just comforted the child. “Are you okay Nette?” she shook her head. “Are you happy with your family?” another head shake. He sighed and had an Idea. He stood and rummaged through the closet until he found it, a suitcase. Mari looked at him and he went back to her. “Do you want to leave” she nodded. Together they fit as much as they could into the case. And descended the stairs, her parents, no these people were on the couch comforting the liar and only looked at the pair glaring at them.

“what is with the suitcase?” her father, no this man asked.

“Marinette is going to come and stay with me a while” James stated calmly.

“you can keep that ungrateful little demon spawn for all we care” the woman responded and that set him off again.

“then why don’t we go to the court and I get custody of little Mari then”

“That sounds wonderful” James snapped back and all of them went to the court and aby noon Mari was his daughter.

---

Marinette couldn’t believe the turns the day had brought, but she couldn’t be happier. She and her new dad dropped off the Dupain-Chengs at the bakery and dad was glaring at the girl who was responsible for this. The whole time she was clutching the book that was supposed to be for Mari and on her face was a stupid smirk the whole time. Mari couldn’t forget what she put her through and all the rage from the past two years. Slowly she went to the man and said goodbye, turned to the woman and did the same.

Finally, she stepped towards Lila and shook her hand, but she stepped around behind her turned and knocked her down as she turned towards her dad, she picked up the sketch book and left.

While she and her dad drove away, he asked “How?”

To which Mari simply shrugged her shoulders. It’s funny ever since she can remember she has been able to speak languages that she had never studied and is a total badass when it comes to martial arts. Yet she never put much thought in it.  She opened the book and on the inside of the cover was a message.

           Shoot for the stars, Little Rocker, you can make all your dreams shine. So, keep Rock’ in!

                          -Uncle Jagged

For the first time in two years Mari couldn’t contain how happy she was, there really might be a bright future ahead. With that thought she hugged her dad.

---

“thank you, dad,” the rocker won’t admit it, but he cried when she first called him dad.

This little Rockstar is one hell of a kid and I will raise her to be the ray of sunshine that she is.

---

Somewhere in the league a young boy couldn’t help but see the world lighter and brighter as if fog were lifting.

Next

[kuroos-moon]

xiii. “Interhigh” • Part Three

Smau Masterlist

You missed Oikawa Toru so much and you regret not giving him the chance to talk to you. You knew you were being irrational but what were you supposed to think? How could he take you seriously and see other girls at the same time?

Pushing all doubts and thoughts aside, you descend the stairs, finally reaching the ground floor. You’ve decided that whatever you were to him, it wouldn’t matter, you just wanted to apologize and let him know how you feel.

Makki’s eyes widen at the sight of you as you get nearer, the boy knew something interesting was about to unfold. Iwaizumi can’t help but facepalm himself because he knew it wasn’t the right time, Toru’s possessive fuck buddy was there after all. He simply sighs as he sees his best friend take pictures with his fans while receiving their gifts.

“Trashykawa,” Mattsun calls and the oblivious boy looks up to see you, standing beside his friends. He was so puzzled he doesn’t have a clue on what to do, he wanted to run away, how was he supposed to deal with his feelings?

He just stands there though, debating whether to ignore you or head over. What the hell was he supposed to do? And were you always that pretty? For a second he got scared his heartbeat would be heard all over the lobby.

“Toru, can we talk?” And just like that, his heartbeat got even faster. Did you miss him as much as he missed you?

His fans mumble among each other as he approaches you quite slowly, he was afraid, what were you going to say? But despite that, he was just so happy to see you up close.

“Toru can we go somewhere else to talk?” You ask him again once he was merely small steps away from you as you look down on your feet, refusing to stare back at his eyes.

“Here’s fine,” he says, he didn’t mean for it to sound cold, he just couldn’t handle how overwhelming his emotions were right now and being alone with you might actually cause him to do or say something impulsively.

You flinch at what he says, but let the sting in your chest go with a heavy sigh.

“Toru, I’m sorry about that day,” you start, your voice was only loud enough for him to hear. He doesn’t say anything so you go on. “I do like you, I like you a lot,” you mumble, the fact that you were confessing with such a huge crowd surrounding you made you nervous.

Not having heard you well, though he knew what you said, he takes a step closer to you and swiftly bends down so that his face was right in front of yours. You were too stunned by his bold actions, your breath hitched, you ought to take a step backward but he grabs your wrist to keep you in place.

“You’re gonna have to speak louder for me to hear y/n,” he says, however composed he looked, he too was flustered at how close your faces were, loving how you reacted to his touch on your wrist and the breaths that you fanned against each other.

“Toru I don’t think I can speak to you this way,” you nervously say, tilting your head back down.

“That won’t do, you have to look at me,” he says. “You did hurt me after all,” he guilt-trips with a pout.

“I really like you Toru,” you blurt out in frustration. Surprised by your sudden outburst, he drops his hold on you and leans away.

“I like you a lot,” you say again, your cheeks flushed and your heart rapidly beating from your newfound courage to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry I said all those things to you, I was scared,” and he was surprised to hear that. What were you so afraid of when he liked you so much more than you liked him?

“I don’t know what I am to you Toru, the last months might’ve been just some fun or whatever for you or maybe I did mean something to you too,” he understood now. He knew why you were so upset. He feels so guilty because he could’ve proven his sincerity instead of resorting to Jen for distraction.

“I just want you to know that I care about you, no matter how weird you are or how freaking annoying, I love every text message I get from you, even if it’s at 4 in the morning, asking me what I’d do if aliens invaded,” you chuckle. Never in his life has he received such an honest and nerve-wracking confession; he wanted you so badly, the more you talk the more he wanted to smash his lips against yours. How could you stand there all pretty, not knowing he was completely wrapped around your finger?

“Y/n,” he says, and you look up at him not knowing what to expect. Were you going to get rejected? The fear of rejection took over you so you cut him off.

“Look, Toru it’s ok—

“So talkative,” He rolls his eyes before he places a hand at the back of your head, pulling you close and kissing you for everyone to see. You couldn’t even process what was happening but find your hands against his broad shoulders anyway.

He was kissing you gently at first, savoring the warmth and softness of your lips against his. Heat tingles within you as he deepens the kiss, he had entered his tongue in your mouth and his arms found its way around your waist pulling you even closer. He made sure to express everything he felt for you, the pain of your words, the love he felt, and the anxiety of not knowing how to handle such strong feelings.

Giving you one last soft peck, he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. “I’ll show you how much I care for you y/n,” he says, wiping the sides of your lips which were a little bit too wet because of him with his thumb. “Y/n-chaan I missed you so much,” he sighs as he slouches and burries his face on your shoulder, his arms still wrapped around your waist, the exhaustion from his game earlier taking a toll on him.

“Can you give me a hug?” His voice was muffled but you heard him anyway. Wrapping your arms around his muscled back, you genuinely felt so happy; being in Toru’s arms felt like the rightest place to be. “Is it only me Toru?” You ask, making him chuckle as he pulls away from you once more.

He slings an arm around your shoulder as he faces his fans and his friends who were bewildered at how Toru acted. Some of the girls recognized you from his tweet, glaring daggers at you. Makki was just so proud of you two he was recording the whole thing.

“I would like to say that I am now off the market,” he grins and Makki and Mattsun goofily clap their hands for the both of you.

“Is she your girlfriend Oikawa-senpai?” One of the fangirls ask. Curious to know what he’d say, you look up at him and you felt your knees weaken because he was already looking at you so softly with his beautiful chocolate eyes.

“Uh no, but if you’re not her then I won’t kiss you, get what I mean?” He lightly says with a chuckle and a polite smile. “She’ll be my girlfriend soon enough though, just you wait and see,” he grins at them before kissing your cheek, chuckling at how red you were.

All was well, there was no intervention from anyone, Iwa just looks at the two of you from outside with a pissed-off Jen he blocked from entering the building. The smiles on both your faces were enough reason for him to drag Jen out when she was about to interrupt you two.

“Iwaizumi what the fucking hell do you think you’re doing? Let me in I’ll make sure that ugly bitch knows her place,” she hisses with so much hate and Iwa simply gives her a glare which was enough for her to back down.

“That girl who’s much more beautiful than you is my friend and Crappykawa’s happiness alright? Don’t ruin it,” he casually says, not wanting to sound mean because after all, he was in no position to get involved. Lmao but he did sound mean, serves her right for calling you ugly

“Did that girl get fucked good by him last night? No I don’t think so,” she smugly says, looking at you with Toru, wanting nothing more than to ruin your life.

“That’s all you ever were Jen, a fuck buddy, you knew that from the start,” Iwa says before heading back inside, punching an overjoyed hyper Oikawa who was about to hug him. He smiles at you though and pats your head.

Jen merely grits her teeth at the sight of Oikawa acting so gentle and loving towards you, she felt sick seeing him kiss your forehead, hold your hand and do everything else he doesn’t do with her. There was no way in hell she’d allow you to be happy.

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