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ramzawrites · 2 years

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Birthday Confession - Reader x Rise!Leonardo

FEM

Pairings: Leonardo/Reader

Characters included: Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo

Warnings: n/a

Series: No

Summary: Leo realizes he has a huge crush on Y/N and when she invites him and his family home for her birthday he plans to finally confess

Word count: 7245

Authors Note: I was struggling a bit at times when writing it but I did have fun, I hope I noticed most mistakes while editing it!! I didn’t plan to end up writing this exclusively from Leo’s perspective but here we are haha

Request: Hi Ram! 😄 Can I request a fluffy long oneshot with prompts: “And I love, I love, I love you.” and [a gentle “I love you too whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss] about Rottmnt Leo attempts to confess his romantic feelings to shy!fem!human! reader and he end up super flustered, but it’s okay because she thinks it’s cute? Hint: She has romantic feelings for Rottmnt Leo too! I live for flustered Leo! 💕 Please?? ~🍓 (she)

Leonardo Hamato, otherwise known as Neon Leon. The face man of the group at first and later the leader of the Mad Dogs. He is charming, confident, skilled, and so incredibly talented. None were faster than him and with his portal magic he was basically unstoppable. Some, mostly he himself, might say he was even invincible!

He had no weaknesses! Not if you asked him at least. If you asked his family though they would say things like that he was too cocky, egocentric, sometimes stupid, short sighted or something like that but those are only minor flaws! You might even call them quirks! If anything, they were like spices that just enhanced the whole package deal that was Leo.

Well, that was how he thought about himself for the longest time. That changed though.

You see, he had a bit of a condition. A condition that made his heartbeat so fast behind his plastron that he was sure that it would break out of his body. Something that made him break out in a nervous sweat and made his stomach tingle.

Yes, it’s true. Leonardo had a crush and a big one at that.

The face man had finally met his match. Somehow the charismatic turtle found his match in the incredibly shy Y/N. Even he was a bit confused how that happened.

When the turtles first met her, she was so shy she couldn’t look them in the eyes without breaking out into an embarrassed blush and trying to hide behind her hands. It took them around six months to finally make her comfortable enough around them that she would look them into their eyes properly.

The first time Leo properly realized his true feeling towards Y/N was when she finally managed to look into Leo’s eyes properly for a longer time besides the fleeting glances. He was so in awe as she seemed to stare into his very being with her beautiful, gorgeous eyes that was accompanied by her usual embarrassed blush that he completely missed what she was trying to tell him.

Leo gulped and when Y/N suddenly averted her eyes again, lightly scratching her pink cheek, he couldn’t help but think how soft her skin looked. How delicate her hand looked as it brushed along her jaw. What he wouldn’t do to hold her hand in his, feeling the warmth of her skin on his cold one.

Wait, what? What were those thoughts? This hasn’t happened before. Seeing how he was a cold-blooded creature it was only natural he would want to hold something warm, right? It was the first time he had this thought about another person though.

Oh, pizza supreme, right, he was talking to her, he needs to answer fast! He could feel the heat rising along his neck into his face.

Trying to save the little bit of dignity he had, he put on his cocky smile “Uh. Yeah, um.” He lost the fight before he even realized. The words died on his tongue. It was nice knowing you all, but this would be the end of Leonardo Hamato, it’s been real.

If he wasn’t blushing already, he had to be by now. His face was positively burning at this point, which was weird because, again, he was a cold-blooded creature.

But to his surprise Y/N giggled, staring at her hands as she repeated herself “Uh, Leo? I- I was asking you, uhm, if you wanted to come to my home for my birthday? I invited the others as well. April and Casey will, uh, will also be there so… I thought it be nice to celebrate at my place?”

Oh!

His heart was jumping around in his chest as he nodded, not fully trusting his voice yet, he cleared his throat “Yeah! For sure! Sounds great, of course I’ll be there as well. I get to celebrate your birthday and get a chance to snoop around in your place? Sounds like fun.” If Leo could, he would pick the words right back out of the air and stuff them back down his throat. He tried to lighten up the awkward situation but ended up saying whatever this was.

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his little joke, something she seemed to have adopted from his brothers to deal with his wonderful humor despite her shyness “I know. It’s, uh, the first time I’m inviting you guys over so I kind of expect you guys to… do… that. Yes. It’s also my way of thanking you guys for being my friends! It’s difficult for me to open up and all that so April had the idea that I could invite you guys over. That way you guys will see how I live and, I don’t know, get to know me better? Ah, now that I say that out loud it sounds so weird!”

She immediately slapped her hands on her face, groaning. Probably mentally beating herself up.

Leo couldn’t help but smirk, it was a nice sentiment, and it melted his heart. Ever since he knew her, he knows that she has been struggling a lot with her shyness. To be fair she has gotten way better, before she could barely even stutter out a word but now over the course of six months the guys had managed to make her feel more comfortable around them. She cracked jokes, was okay to hang out with them and even came up with things to do together. It was honestly a great feeling knowing she worked hard to overcome her own problems just so she could be closer with the mutant family.

They all made sure that she knew, that, sure while all of them are pretty much extroverted and wild, she still fit in all of that and was now a part of their little family. No matter what she might be thinking, she belonged with them, and they wouldn’t let her go that easily now.

“That sounds like a great idea.” Leo suddenly spoke. He made sure to sound as confident and genuine as possible. It must have worked since Y/N peaked out between her fingers.

Time to double down and squash her worries.

“I’m sure we all will have a great time and don’t worry too much, Y/N. Please don’t force yourself to do anything though, we love you the way you are. We won’t be going anywhere so there will be plenty of time to get to know each other. I mean, telling you the truth, I have trouble opening up as well, so while our reasons might differ, I can at least sympathize with you.” He really didn’t mean to add the last sentence but there it was, out in the air, just like that and it was shockingly the honest truth.

It felt like a clumsy attempt to cheer her up, but it did result in Y/N releasing her hands from her face and in exchange gave Leo a soft smile, her eyes darting back to his own “Yeah. You’re right. I appreciate this, Leo. Thank you.”

Leo gave her a confident nod, his thoughts darting all over the place, but one thing was certain. He loved her genuine smile, and he made a mental note to ensure to see it as often as possible. How it still took him days after this to realize that he had a full-on crush on Y/N he now couldn’t understand.

Probably for the fact that it was the first time this has happened. This whole crush situation. Hence also the reason why he was so incredibly bad at dealing with it.

Whenever Y/N was in the lair he made sure to stay close or at least steal glances at her. It frankly felt weird when he couldn’t keep an eye on her. He would ask her a ton of times if she wanted something to drink, maybe another pizza? Some snacks? If Y/N wanted some proper food, he could probably make Mikey cook something nice up. Was the lair cold? Maybe a blanket would be nice, he could just in case grab his own from his own room if one wasn’t enough! He probably also had a hoodie or a jacket laying around she could borrow.

In Leo’s mind he was just being a mindful friend who was trying to make his shy friend feel comfortable because he knew she would probably feel bad asking for things. His brothers though soon noticed that something else was going on.

The teasing officially begun when they all sat down to think about what to gift Y/N for her birthday. It was the first time they got invited over to her so all of them were excited to see her place.

“I really wanna draw something for Y/N but since I haven’t seen her home yet, I’m scared it wouldn’t fit in anywhere.” Mikey sighed, he made himself comfy on one of the beanbags.

Raph patted Mikey’s head like he tends to do when he tried to console him “There, there. Honestly, I don’t think Y/N would care much. I’m sure she would find a nice place for your art. You know how happy she gets when you show off your art to her.”

Another sigh escaped Mikey’s lips “Yeah but like can you imagine if I actually managed to draw a picture with colors that fit perfectly into her home though! It would feel even more personal!”

“Oh, little brother of mine, what Y/N needs is a new phone, clearly.” Donnie piped up, a proud smile on his face. He seemed to be sure he had the best idea.

And sadly Leo had to admit that it really wasn’t a bad idea. Her old phone was basically dying every 5 minutes and had to be charged constantly. She once complained about it since it was her only safe haven she had when she was outside alone surrounded by strangers. Putting on headphones so no one would approach her and playing games on her phone to block out the people and her own worries.

“So, what? You will make her a new phone?” Leo asked.

Donnie nodded enthusiastically “Obviously! I will ensure to give her an upgraded phone that will have a powerful battery and will be safe to any kind of virus and malware out there. I might even add some extra features to help her in her every day. I want to see you guys’ top that!”

On one hand this was a really thoughtful gift, on the other hand of course to Donnie this was mostly about who got Y/N the best gift.

That was when suddenly a worrying thought entered Leo’s mind “Uh, Donnie. No crazy extra’s, just a normal phone. Please. I don’t want another Shelldon situation going on, or that lovely time you gifted us these gadgets.”

“Scoff!” Donnie said angrily, placing his hand theatrically on his plastron where his heart was” I can’t believe you would insinuate that I’d repeat that kind of mistake!”

When all three of his brothers just narrowed their eyes at the purple turtle, he had to admit defeat and hung his head down “Alright, alright, I got it. A normal phone it is. That is, a normal phone with a powerful battery and a ton of space to run a lot of games! I will make sure it’ll be able to run even the more powerful ones!”

“That will be more than enough Don, you can show off your abilities another time, but this should be more than plenty.” Raph put on his big brother voice to ensure that Donnie didn’t plan anything crazy.

Now it was Leo’s time to sigh “Great. Einstein here is gifting Y/N a phone and I have no idea what to do. It should definitely be something personal though. Something from the heart and stuff.” He mumbled the last part and was sure no one heard it, yet he could see Raph raise his eyebrow.

Suddenly Mikey gasped, his eyes lit up “Oh my gosh! I just had the perfect idea on what I can gift Y/N! Donnie! I wanna make a case for the new phone! That way I can gift her a personalized art piece and it’ll protect the phone!”

Even Donnie’s eye lit up at that. If Leo had to guess it was probably due to the fact it was a way to protect his precious invention.

“Oh, what? You guys work together on the gift? I wanna get in on it as well!” Raph exclaimed, raising his arms into the air to emphasize his point. A pout making its way on his face.

Leo moved next to his big brother, nodding along “Yeah! What he said! What about us!”

Donnie just shrugged, he didn’t care either way while Mikey placed one finger against his chin, deep in thought “I mean… Hm. Oh! You guys could make her like phone charms! You know these charms that hang off the phone on a string! I’m sure I have some stuff in my room you guys can use to make one!”

This was… actually not a bad idea. Trust Mikey to find a creative, personal, and heartfelt gift idea.

Yet, to Mikey this might seem like a no brainer but both Leo and Raph looked at each other a bit unsure. Oh, Leo was sure he’d make the perfect charm, of course, but Raph was another story. He could get a bit frustrated when it came to make intricate little things. Yeah, he wasn’t doubting his own abilities at all.

Almost as if Mikey could read their thoughts he added “Ah, don’t worry. It’s easy! Besides if it’s not perfect it shows off more character and as long as it from you guys and you did your best you know Y/N will love it no matter what. If all else fails though I’m here to help you both.”

Mikey had a huge grin on his face. He rarely had the chance to share one of his interests with his brothers like this. Sure, as little tots they spend time to draw together but that that changed over time and now whenever he offered to draw or do something else creative together, they often refused.

He also relished the fact that he got to show and teach something to his older brothers instead the usual other way around.

Anyway that is how they all ended up piggybacking off of Donnie’s gift and why Leo and Raph were currently sitting in the living room surrounded by string, glue, clay, paints and a lot of beads. All courtesy of Mikey of course.

Raph was currently trying to put some red beds on a green string, his eyes were almost cross eyed as he stared on the single small bead in between his big fingers while his other hand tried to hold the string steady. His brows were narrowed, creating the famous Raph crease on his forehead.

Leo on the other hand was just absentmindedly rolling around a piece of white clay between the palms of his hands. It’s been ages since Leo did anything like it. They used to all craft together to make their dad a gift, mostly whenever they wanted something from him but still, it was still a gift from the heart.

What could he make for Y/N? A little sword would be cool right? Like one of his swords? No, that wouldn’t work, right? I mean that’s more of a thing that he’d enjoy. But he was mostly thinking of it as a lucky charm! His swords are kind of his lucky charms after all. They keep him alive and let him do some really cool mystic stuff.

But a lucky charm for Y/N, huh? Would he be able to make a mini version of himself with clay?

As soon as this thought entered his brain, he immediately felt the, at this point, familiar feeling of a blush spreading across his face. With a sudden gasp to get more cold air in, he shook his head trying to shake off the blush and his embarrassment.

He totally forgot that Raph was sitting in front of him. He let out an amused snort as he stared at his younger brother. His hands still in the air in the motion of trying to put on the bead on the string. When Raph’s smile just widened with a knowing look in his eyes Leo couldn’t help himself but let out an annoyed huff.

Turning his head away he tried to act as casual as possible, suddenly the small clay ball in his hands was incredibly interesting “What?”

Raph let his hands fall back down into his lap, a soft chuckle escaped him “So, Leo. Are you planning on telling her on her birthday?”

Panic rose in Leo’s chest, it suddenly felt like there was cold sweat coating his body “Wuh- What? I don’t know what you can possibly mean, Raphael.” Ah yes, this clay ball is actually really interesting! These creases and cracks in the material are horrible though, he definitely had to get those out. Can’t make a charm out of it if it’s all cracked and stuff.

Seriously what could Raph possibly mean? Tell whom what? What was there to tell anyone? There wasn’t anything to be told!

When Leo dared to finally take a look at his brother, his brother immediately took his chance to flick Leo on his forehead.

“Ouch! What was that for!”

“Leo has a crush on Y/N!” he sang, actually, the snapping turtle fully belted this out.

Embarrassment and fear washed over Leo, he dropped the clay and jumped onto his brother, wrapping his hands around his snout to make him shut up “No! No! Raph, nuh uh! Nope. Nada. Non. No!”

Crush? Ridiculous! But even if he had he didn’t need to yell it out into the whole lair for the others to hear! Donnie would be insufferable, Mikey would probably try to Dr. Feelings him and please for the love of everything he didn’t want their dad to hear about this!

This was a hypothetical though. Yep.

It really was no trouble for Raph to pry Leo off his face, grabbing him by the top of his shell to move him away from him “Then why are you getting so worked up?”

Leo tried to answer but when he opened his mouth nothing came out but a high-pitched whine. He couldn’t defend himself! Why couldn’t he defend himself? Damn, Raph! Damn him!

Was it so obvious he had a soft spot for their shy friend that it made Raph believe he had a crush on her? A crush, hah, that’s ridiculous.

Sure, he keeps thinking about her. Keeps wishing to hold her in his arms, trace his fingers through her hair and he keeps thinking about fun things he could show her or how to spend time with her. After whenever she was around things just seemed to be better! Of course he wanted to spend his time with her if he felt like that around her, it’s only natural!

His hands flew up to his warm face with a smack.

Oh god he did have a crush!

Oh wow, he had a crush!

He had a crush on Y/N.

Leo had to finally give in and accept the fact that he did have a crush, which must have shown in his body language because suddenly there was a large hand on his shell in a supporting manner.

“Heh, can’t believe it took you this long to realize.”

This pulled Leo back to earth and he peaked one of his eyes out behind his hands to look at Raph “What does that mean?”

“Bro.” Raph begun, his voice flat “Literally all of us noticed that you are crushing hard on Y/N. It’s honestly a miracle that she hasn’t realized it yet.”

“What? Was I that obvious?” Leo screeched out. How?! Also why was breathing suddenly so hard! And everything was warm and this tingly feeling in his stomach doesn’t help at all!

Raph snorted “Uh, yeah. Very much so. Even Donnie knew what was going on and he doesn’t care about emotions.”

“And Y/N really doesn’t know?!” he was now nervously squashing the clay ball onto the ground.

“According to April she doesn’t know at all. Honestly, it’s been really funny seeing both of you so clueless.”

Raph would not mention that the three brothers plus April had secret bets on who would confess to whom first and when. That would stay with him and the other three.

It took a while and a lot of confidence for Leo to finally ask “How did you know?”

Raph just raised his eyebrow at that, as if this was a self-explanatory question “For one, we are your brothers. We literally grew up with you. And also, it was super obvious because whenever Y/N is around you hover around her not leaving your eyes of off her if you can. You keep staring at her with those eyes and that stupid smile, of course we noticed.”

“Ah.”

“So, will you confess on her birthday all dramatic like?”

“What? No! I wouldn’t- why should I!”

“Because she cares for you too. She is literally the most comfortable with you around. Come on! You defeated the Shredder, you can say three words to your crush!”

Y/N was the most comfortable around him? Well, when she came to visit, she did tend to approach Leo the most and the two liked to chill together. Their chat on their phones was littered with memes and inside jokes but also conversations where one would listen to the other and offer their best advice or just a listening ear.

Talking with her about anything, really, was just so easy.

But while Leo appreciated the pep talk from Raph he wasn’t so sure if confessing was a smart move.

“What if… What if she doesn’t feel that way and I destroy our friendship.”

“No, you won’t! Besides I doubt you could keep those emotion in for whatever how long. Now, stop stalling and let’s continue working on Y/N’s gift or you will really have to swoop her off her feet on her birthday if you want to compete with our gifts!”

Stalling? Raph was the one who began teasing him!

And yet he was right, he should finally work on that charm. Come on, it was just a simple charm for his crush. No biggie! But how is he supposed to work now after this whole conversation?!

So, cool, his family realized before him he had a crush and Raph seems to be really sure he should confess to Y/N. To be fair, he trusted Y/N enough to know that even if she didn’t feel the same way, she would still be his friend, but things would still change right? He is just a mutant turtle, okay yeah, he is a rad mutant turtle, but still, not a human.

Yet there was this spark of hope in him. What if she did feel the same way? The thought made his heart race. He could take her out to dates, actually he could teleport around and take her out for incredible dates! What if he asked her for places she always wanted to visit and try to figure out how to teleport over there. Then again, he also wouldn’t mind just staying home, spending time together. Just anything with her would be good for him. Would she feel the same way?

Maybe he really should try telling her. He could continue on living and waiting for the crush to disappear just for the sake of their friendship but the overwhelming beautiful emotions he got from imagining what could happen if she felt the same way?

Well, it sure felt like a risk worth taking.

With new confidence and a plan in his head, he now finally begun sculpting something out of the clay. A little mini-Leo and a small little sword on a blue string.

The mini-Leo was, let’s just say the green paint with the blue for the mask definitely helped to identify what it was and the mini sword, was a sword yes, but Mikey assured him that it would be obvious and happily helped him to put the finishing touches on the little sculptures.

Leo couldn’t help but think that Y/N’s birthday arrived way too fast. The days before her birthday he began fretting over what he would say to her, debating once again if he really should but something in him, maybe it was his own Mind-Raph, told him he needed to do it.

To help himself prepare he begun reading stupid romantic novels, immediately skipping to the confession scene. He even watched romcoms in his room in secret. Wrote down a whole speech on what to say to Y/N but when he and his brothers stood on the fire escape staircase at the side of Y/N’s building, he could already tell that all of this preparation was for nothing.

Mikey was beaming, he was probably the most excited of the group to see Y/N’s place, hence why he was the one who knocked on her window. Raph and Donnie were waiting next to Mikey, trying to take a peek inside while Leo stood behind them. He was busy trying to calm his beating heart and put on his usual smug smile on.

Come on! He is the face man! It should be easy to slip into a persona to navigate this situation! It’s one of his many talents after all!

Before he could continue overthinking this further, the window finally opened, and his brothers eagerly entered the apartment. Leo followed closely behind.

Once inside Leo finally spotted Y/N. She had a big smile on her face as she ushered the group into the living room.

The living room was covered in warm colors. There were a ton of pillows on the sofa and all sorts of knick-knack on basically all available surfaces. A lot of printed out pictures were littered along the walls, showing pictures of herself, her family, April and what Leo assumed were other friends.

Of course, Y/N was also dressed up for her own birthday, but his heart skipped a beat when he noticed that her outfit was in a blue color scheme. Aw man, this was unfair! He was already blushing, and he hasn’t even said a word yet to her! How was he supposed to say these three magical words to her! He couldn’t! He will probably die of a heart attack!

“I hope it wasn’t any trouble getting over here!” Y/N greeted them cheerily.

Raph didn’t waste a moment to envelop Y/N in a bone crushing hug, lifting her off her feet “It was no trouble at all! Happy Birthday!”

“Aw, thanks, big guy!” She laughed, returning his hug as well as she could.

As soon as Raph let her down, Mikey was the next to throw his own hug at her and yelled out a “Happy Birthday!” her way as well, jumping excitedly with her into the air.

Donnie gave Y/N a somewhat theatrical bow, opting out of a hug, and said his own Happy Birthday. Y/N returned his action with a warm smile and a big “Thank you, Donnie.” She knew Donnie wasn’t one for physical affection. She always seemed to know how to best react and interact with all four of them. Yeah, she was great like that.

Now it was Leo’s turn. A hug, right? He hugged her before. Just a hug for his friend for her birthday! He just hoped he wouldn’t be shaking or that she could hear how his heart was beating like crazy inside his chest.

Trying to act like usual, he threw his arms around her and pressed his warm cheek against her head, lightly swaying with her in his arms “Happy Birthday, Sunshine!”

When she wrapped her arms around his back and pressed herself further into him, he was sure he was dying. Oh god, he could only imagine the looks his brothers were currently giving him. He is sure if Y/N would leave right now they’d tease him forever.

Leo was the first to let go, suddenly very aware of the nervous sweat on the palms of his hands “Well, your home looks comfy.”

Nice. Good one. Good job, Leo. Master in small talk.

Y/N chuckled shyly “Oh, um, thanks.”

Never has he been happier that Donnie cut in, shoving him away from the Birthday Girl, holding out a little package wrapped in purple wrapping paper.

Y/N’s eyes widened at the realization of what this was “Oh, you shouldn’t have!”

But Donnie just gave her deadpan look “It’s your birthday! Of course!”

“Yeah!” Mikey added in “Birthdays are there so your friends can show you, their appreciation! And we wanna show you that we appreciate you! Now, don’t worry about it and open it!”

“Wait, let me grab April and Casey and maybe some slices of cake fir-“she began but Mikey, Donnie and Raph interrupted her.

“Just open it!”

Tentatively she grabbed the small package and begun unwrapping it, soon holding a, of course, purple cell phone. This time her eyes seemed to grow into the size of plates “What?! A phone?! Are- Are you sure?!”

This was Donnie’s time to shine. With a smug look on his face, he began to explain “Well you complained about your own phone all the time, so I, as the genius inventor that I am, can’t have my friend suffering like this. This phone has a battery life that will last you for days, you can download all kinds of games and I even loaded some of my own favorite games on it already.”

It was clear that Donnie wanted to keep on going into the details of the technology, but Mikey interrupted him “Yeah, so, now that you opened this up, we can give you, our gifts!”

At this point Y/N was utterly flabbergasted “There is more?! Guys, that’s- that’s too much!”

But Mikey waved her off, instead he gave her his own orange wrapped gift. She opened it and in her hands was now a multicolored phone case specifically made for the phone Donnie made her. It looked like someone splashed blue, red, orange and purple on the case. It was also littered with little drawings like turtles, pizza and more. It was chaotic but beautiful. Y/N didn’t hesitate to immediately put it on her new phone, cradling it close to her chest.

“And now for me and Leo here.” Raph spoke up “We both made something for you as well.”

She opened Raph’s gift first, showing off his little charm. Green string that was covered in red beads and other cute little beads like glittery stars. A cute little cat hung off the end of the string. Mikey helped a lot with that.

Next was Leo’s, who shakily gave her his own gift. When she opened it, she let out a little gasp at seeing the mini-Leo. Holding it close to her face to take a better look at it.

Worried that this gift might come over as more egocentric than he meant he jumped in “Well, uh, I- I wanted to make you a little lucky charm.” He cleared his throat, cursing his nervousness “It’s my way to say that, um, I’ve got your back! Yeah! I’ve got enough luck to share so I’m sharing with you!”

Yeah, sure this is one way to phrase it.

Leo definitely noticed the knowing looks of his brothers.

When Y/N looked back up, her eyes were glossy, for a moment Leo thought he screwed everything up but then she held the gifts against her chest, talking to the whole group now “This is the best birthday I ever had. This is all so thoughtful and amazing. I’m- I’m so lucky to know you guys.”

“Aw, we are glad you love it!” Mikey smiled.

Somehow Leo suddenly felt less nervous at this response from Y/N. These gifts were definite proof that the four cared about her and she must have understood the underlying meaning of their gifts for this reaction.

Does she also sense the hidden meaning behind his gift?

Y/N wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, her ever present blush on her face “Want to get some cake? Baked it, uh, baked it myself. I hope it’s good.”

This caught Mikey’s attention “Oh! You made it yourself! Let chef Mikey try it, I’m sure it’s amazing, Y/N!”

With that he followed Y/N who was leading the group through her apartment into her kitchen where they met April and Casey, both happily munching on some cake.

Casey noticed the phone with the charms, that Y/N was still cradling against her chest, and asked, very loudly, where that came from.

Y/N explained happily that it was a gift from all the four turtles which resulted in April to point her fork at Donnie talking about a “Donnie-Blocker” or something. Leo had to admit he wasn’t paying too much attention. He was still drawn to Y/N who was holding on to the phone with he charms as if it would disappear any second. Realistically he knew it was a great gift, but he didn’t realize that Y/N would love it that much.

It made him happy to see her genuine, dreamy smile again.

Yet, Y/N suddenly pocketed her new phone and instead moved to place a piece of the cake onto a plate with a fork, with the plate in hand she made her way towards Leo. Uh oh, she was walking over to him! Leo! Stop staring! Look like you were listening to the conversation! Maybe chuckle! Yeah, they are all loveable idiots, there are always chuckle-able situations.

He couldn’t make himself chuckle though. No, he was still looking at Y/N who approached him, softly pressing the plate towards his plastron.

“Not hungry?”

He didn’t immediately grab a piece of the cake since he was so nervous. Now that he thought about it, he hasn’t eaten much in the last few days. Did she think he didn’t want to try her cake? The cake she made herself? For this party?

With way more gusto than he meant to Leo grabbed the plate and fork and begun shoveling the cake into his mouth. The cake was soft, sweet, and really, really good! It could definitely rival Mikey’s baking skills! Another talent of hers, he made a mental note of that, so he could bring up her baking skills whenever she begun doubting herself again.

Y/N must have noticed Leo’s eyes widen because she suddenly looked at her feet, her blush darkening “Uh, it’s alright?”

“Alright?! It’s fantastic, Sunshine. You did an amazing job.”

She let out a deep breath, almost as if she was holding one in as she waited for his reaction. Knowing her she probably was. Yeah, at this point Leo knew some of her mannerism, how could he not with the way he made sure she was doing alright all the time. Okay and also, he just can’t take his eyes off of her in general.

Seeing her just made him happy, okay?

This whole crush thing will be the death of him. Rarely was he this worried about anything.

How was he even supposed to go about this whole confession thing? Just go “Hey, Y/N can I talk to you in private?” and just confess? Just like that?

“Oh? Uh y-yeah we can talk if, if you want. We can go to the liv-living room the others are busy here.”

Wait, what?

Did he just imagine this? But Y/N approached the door out of the kitchen, towards the living room.

Wait a minute. What just- Huh?

Did he actually ask the question out loud? Did he?! Pizza supreme he is such a horrible idiot. What is he supposed to do! Can he somehow bail? And leave Y/N hanging? No, he couldn’t.

Before he could properly process what was happening his feet began moving on their own. Step by step he followed his crush back into the living room. With every step it felt like his heart began beating louder. He had to really make sure to control his breathing or he was sure he would be dizzy by now. His throat and mouth suddenly felt so dry.

Y/N entered the living room and stood in the middle of it, looking at Leo with a bashful expression. There was curiosity but also worry etched into her face. Oh no, Leo couldn’t stand seeing her worried.

Taking in a shaky breath Leo, placed the plate, which he was still clutching like a lifeline, on the coffee table and he slowly approached Y/N. Looking down at her. He could tell she tried her best to look into his face, but her eyes began darting around all over the place.

Leo opened his mouth to start speaking but the words were lost on him. His thoughts were just filled with everything he loved about her. Her beauty, her character, her everything, really.

Y/N moved her hand to her own bicep, slightly rubbing along her arm “Yeah, so, uhm, here we are.” Here voice was weak and shaking. She was nervous as well.

“Yeah.” He whispered out. His face was so hot it reminded him of the time he ate some poison from Meatsweats and random body parts felt like they were on fire. Well, they kind of were but that’s not the point right now! This wasn’t the time to get distracted!

“I wanted to tell you something?” why did it sound like a question? Why did he make it sound like a question?

Wincing at his own stupidity he just stared at Y/N, waiting for her confused expression but instead she just nodded. Her way to give him the go ahead.

If he could only properly think but at this point, he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, and it was getting really difficult to stay concentrated.

Okay, take a deep breath, Leo. Just three words. You practiced this. You can do this. No matter what Y/N felt she was an amazing enough person that she wouldn’t judge him.

Leo took a deep breath through his nose and let it out through his mouth, closing his eyes during this process in hopes of sorting his thoughts. Opening his eyes again, he met with Y/N’s.

“Y/N you are… amazing. Uh. Ever since we met, I’ve been enjoying my time I’ve spent with you. You are the first person I really began opening up to.” He let out a soft chuckle “Honestly sometimes it scares me how easy it is to just talk to you. I’m just so amazed by how attentive you are. Not only can you ease my worry but also that of my brothers. Man, you notice before any of us when one of our brothers is going through something and I just love seeing you interact with them. It makes me happy to know we have you around and that we can rely on you.”

As he continued Y/N kept looking up at him, her blush darkened even more, and he couldn’t stop but notice as her mouth slightly opened. Was it shock? Was this bad?

“You are always here for us. You’ve been there for me after bad fights, whenever I have nightmares and I get worried about being the new leader of the Mad Dogs, that’s why, uh, I made you that charm. You’ve been my lucky charm, Y/N, so I was hoping I could be yours because- because…”

Three words. Three words.

That was when Y/N suddenly grabbed Leo’s hands and held them firmly between her warm fingers. Her touch was so careful, almost as if she would scare him away with this action. Leo’s breath hitched.

Taking another deep breath, he moved one of his hands out between her hands and before she could recoil in embarrassment, he made sure to clasp it on top of her. Lightly squeezing her hand.

“Uh, yeah, um, like I said you are amazing, and I love- I love- I love you!”

Leo couldn’t help but squeeze his eyes shut as he exclaimed the last part. It was out! He said it! No regrets now! He expected for Y/N to maybe pull her hands away, stomp out of the room and never talk to him again or something like that but instead he could feel her tighten her grip on his hand.

Tentatively he opened one of his eyes to see her closer than before. Her breath fanning his snout as she smiled softly at him. Leo couldn’t help but involuntarily lick his own lips and take a glance at her rosy lips. Well, she hasn’t run off, but she isn’t saying anything either!

“Please don’t feel forced to- Mmph!” Leo wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t feel forced to return his feelings and that it was okay to reject him but suddenly she pressed her soft lips against his.

He was in complete shock. There he stood. Finally confessing his feeling to his crush in honestly a disaster of a confession and in return she kissed him! She kissed him!

Y/N moved away from him, an almost cheeky grin on her face, as she studied his stunned expression.

Leo.exe has (officially) stopped working.

He must have looked ridiculous because Y/N let out a giggle. She moved one of her hands to the side of his face, softly moving her thumb across his blushing cheek. With an involuntary hum Leo leaned into her touch.

“I love you too.” She finally whispered.

It felt like his heart exploded in a feeling of excitement, euphoria, happiness. Whatever you wanted to call this emotion it enveloped his whole being with her own confession.

Leo immediately crashed his own lips against hers again. Her soft ones moving against his as they melted into each other. Y/N wrapped her arms slowly around his neck, her finger slowly tracing at the back of his head while his arms found their way around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

When the two finally had to break the kiss for the sad fact that both needed oxygen to live, Leo took the chance to just take a look at Y/N.

Y/N loved him! She kissed him! She returned his feelings and yet he didn’t seem to fully process what was happening.

Oh god, he was kissing her! He was kissing her!

Y/N’s hand came back down to slowly trace one finger along his cheekbone. Leo couldn’t help but bite down on his own lip in embarrassment, knowing very well that his own cheeks must be so bright right now.

Not that Y/N looked different but that was a beautiful look on her, a look he could never get enough.

She softly chuckled “You are adorable, Leonardo.”

Oh, she did this on purpose! There is no way she didn’t know what it was doing to him and when she subtly raised her eyebrow, oh yeah, she knew. If he wasn’t still all mushy brained from the planned but still sudden confession, he’d try to say something witty, so, instead he leaned back down pecking Y/N’s blushy cheeks before pressing his lips back down on hers.

#rottmnt #rottmnt reader insert #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt x reader #leonardo x reader #tmnt reader insert #tmnt x reader insert

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promptthebear · 10 months

Note

🐰 Edmund Pevensie #40 please

Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Prompt: I’m annoyed, to say it mildly.

CW: none I think??? Written in second person, reader is referred to as “you”. F!Reader, but any physical description is left ambiguous. This is just a little angsty with some possibly unrequited pining. If that’s your thing, enjoy!

The night of your engagement party had finally arrived, and Edmund could not have been more miserable, mostly because he wasn’t the one you were getting engaged to.

You’d met Edmund almost five years ago, when your family had taken up residence in one of the smaller castles on the mainland. Your father, a knight in service to Peter, had been promoted after saving the High King’s life from a band of travelling outlaws while on a hunting trip. The incident had cost your father an eye, but gained him a lordship and a comanding position within Peter’s army.

Since then, you and your family had attended all manner of feasts and other events at Cair Paravel, and from the moment he’d first set eyes on you, Edmund had known he loved you.

Unfortunately for Edmund, there were several other young men in the kingdom who felt the same way he did. You’d had no shortage of suitors since coming of age, the last of which now held you in his arms as the two of you danced across the shimmering ballroom. He was a hedgeknight, not unlike your own father had been, handsome in a simple sort of way and with such a placid nature, no man could speak ill of him. Which was part of the problem.

Being able to openly voice his displeasure about the man who’d stolen you away would have only helped lessen the sting on Edmund’s part. However, doing so would only have made him seem spiteful in front of his subjects, since the poor fellow had done nothing so awful as to warrant the Kings wrath. In truth, Emund had to admit there was nothing wrong with the man at all, save for the fact that you were marrying him and not Edmund.

In the end, hed put on a brave face, hugged you and kissed your cheeks at the private announcement and acted as though he was just as happy for you as the rest of his family. He’d been able to keep the facade going for several months after, always greeting you and your fiance with the same kingly smile. However, Edmund was only human and by the time the party came around, he was no longer able to hold the mask in place.

Rather than openly sulk and ruin your evening, Edmund instead chose to hide in the corner and lick his emotional wounds over a glass of wine...or six. He was working on glass seven when Lucy finally found him, and decided to greet her older brother by soundly cuffing him around the ear.

“Hey!” Edmund yelped, turning to glare at his sister while rubbing at the side of his head with his free hand “What the hell was that for?”

Lucy shrugged, took a sip from her own glass and fixed her gaze to where you and your soon to be husband were dancing. The two of you were off in your own little world, aware of nothing but each other and the music that carried you as you waltzed effortlessly across the room.

“She looks absolutely radiant” Lucy said, nodding in your general direction “Though of course, happiness will do that to a person.”

Edmund made a vague noise in response, already far too occupied in his brooding to give her a real answer. His dark eyes watched you from beneath a creased brow, the single member of the most captive audience you’d ever had.

What Lucy said was true, you were so beautiful tonight it took Edmund’s breath away each time he caught sight of your face. Your flushed cheeks and bright eyes were nothing short of perfection, and you were aglow with the kind of shine only new love could bring to a woman.

For a moment, he allowed himself an indulgenced and imagined he was the one holding you instead. That he was the one making you laugh, that you were smiling at him and whispering in his ear, that he was the one with a hand at your waist while the other brushed an errant curl from your eyes and leaned in to place a chaste kiss against your lips. His gut roiled with a sickening combination of envy and rage, and he took another sip of wine to try to quell it. His jaw hurt from clenching and the fingers on his sword hand were beginning to twitch. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to last one more month until your wedding.

It was another sharp, quick blow to the ear that brought Edmund out of his stupor. With a yelp, he turned and whirled on Lucy, who was gazing innocently at the dance floor as if she hadn’t so much as moved a muscle.

“Lu! Gods, must you keep doing that?!”

“Yes,” came the reply, cheerful as always “Or at least until you stop moping about like you missed the last sweet in the box.”

“I am not!” Edmund said, moping.

“Yes, you are. Your best friend is getting married to a man who’s madly in love with her and will bring her years of joy. You should be celebrating with the rest of the kingdom, not standing here tripping over your own chin.”

“Lucy, I am not-”

From the corner of his eye, Edmund saw a few curious stares turn in his general direction, and it was then that he realized somehow that his voice had risen to an almost shout. Clearing his throat, he took another sip of wine and cast his eyes sheepishly at the floor.

“Lucy-” he said, softer but not any less irate than before “For the last time, I am happy for her. I just don’t feel much like dancing tonight, is all.”

“Because you’re upset.”

Edmund fought back the impulse to walk over to the nearest suit of arms, open the chestpiece and scream into it.

“I am not upset” he could barely get the words around his clenched teeth “I’m annoyed to say it mildly, but that has more to do with present company and not with my best friend’s upcoming marriage.”

“Then why did she tell me you two haven’t spoken since you found out about the engagement?”

The sound Edmund made was one Lucy had heard before, usually when he was sparring in the training yard and someone poked him in the gut with a sword hilt. It hadn’t been her intention to ambush him just now, rather she wanted to knock him off balance a bit and get him to a place where he could name what was bothering him so much instead of just stewing in it. Unfortunately, it seemed Ed would need a little bit more help with that than she had anticipated.

“Does she know you love her?”

Edmund shook his head, and took another healthy sip of wine to steel his nerves. He’d never said that aloud to anyone before, not even himself least of all Lucy. But as always, his sister was more aware of things than he gave her credit for.

“I never-”

He stopped and froze, still as a statue. Lucy considered cuffing him around the ear again, but held back when she realized the reason Edmund was seemingly paralyzed. The music had petered off, the orchestra were tuning their instruments to prepare for the next dance and you had left your bethrothed, and were walking right over to where Edmund was standing.

In mere seconds, you were right in front of them, beaming widely and flushed from dancing. From the corner of her eye, Lucy saw Edmund’s grip on his cup go white knuckled and a telltale flush start to rise along the side of his neck.

“Edmund!” you gushed, oblivious to your friend’s discomfort as you reached for his arm “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you to come and ask me to dance.”

“Ser Alaric?”

The mention of your fiance’s name did not seem to phase you. Instead, you reached for Edmund’s wine goblet, and gently extracted it from his grip.

“He’s taking a break right now, and besides, he’ll have the rest of his life to dance with me. I want you now. Please?”

Edmund’s eyes flicked nervously from where you had caught a handful of his shirt sleeve, the pleading look on your face, and his glass now in Lucy’s clutches. A lifetime seemed to pass, during which Edmund felt himself age a year for each one of his frantic heartbeats. It was only when he felt Lucy gently pushing at his back that he relented.

“Alright” he said, the flush now spread to his cheeks “But only for a song or two, I really shouldn’t be stealing you from your-”

“Fantastic! Thank you, I’ve been looking forward to this all night. Good to see you too, Lu!””

Lucy gave the two of you a brief wave, and hid her smirk behind the rim of her glass. This couldn’t have gone better than if she’d planned it herself. With one last, helpless look over his shoulder, Edmund allowed himself to be pulled towards the dance floor, your hand in his. Lucy could hear the orchestra playing the opening bars of what was sure to be a slow, intimate waltz. It seemed to be the sort where you could hold your partner extra close and talk in hushed voices.

The panicked look on Edmund’s face told her that he knew what was coming, and that he would give his entire claim to the kigndom to anyone who would save him from his current predicament. Painful as it might be, however, Lucy knew that confronting things was the only way her brother would get any kind of closure about this. For better or for worse, the two of you were going to sort this out, she would make absolute certain of that.

#easter askbox event #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie imagines #Edmund pevensie #Narnia fic

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starynightcreator · 4 months

Text

It's Not All Bad

Chapters: 6-8

Characters included: Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler, and Steve Harington

Word Count: 4,352

No use of Y/N

18+! May be triggering to some!

Contains: Fluff, Angst, Kissing, Shy/ Anxious Reader, Sweet/Protective Eddie, Jealousy, Cursing, Alcohol use, Yelling, Heartbreak, Betrayal, & Friends To Lovers.

Summary: After a betrayal from your best friend and boyfriend, you find comfort in the arms of eddie.

Please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments. This is my first story and I'm a little nervous.

!Must give credit when re-sharing/ sharing. Don't take credit please and thank you!

PART SIX:

As you hear them rambling in the background you just keep looking forward and walk out.

You know they are just trying to earn your forgiveness to feel better about themselves and that hurts more in some ways. You’ve done so much for them and you’ve given them your heart, support, trust and more just for them to do this. You couldn’t breath, you couldn’t think, you just couldn’t. You had to do everything you could not to look back or you’d cry more. But where was Edds? Eddie couldn’t do much not right now at least he wanted to go make sure to be there for you but not without saying something first. “You both had this coming and you both are awful people. That feeling you feel right now I hope everytime you kiss you feel that way and ask was this worth losing someone so important.” Steve tried to reason with Eddie but Eddie wasn’t stupid. “Come on Eddie you know I make her happy-” “Save it man because guess what you don’t. But I will give you both some advice. Stay away from my Star. Don’t ever bother her with your bullshit again.” What Eddie didn’t know was that you had come back. You didn’t want to but you did and you did to get him even if you had to see Steve and Nancy. But when you got to the door you heard a commotion so you looked through the window. You always loved how he cared for you and it’s not anything new to you but as soon as he said “My Star” time seemed to stop until you felt cold rings grab one of your hands. “Let’s go home Star.” And with no hesitation “Okay Edds.” You finally get home and ask Eddie to wait in the living room. You were so quick Eddie didn’t even get the chance to sit. You finally return to the living room and you were no longer in that dress or any of the things you had on before you had switched into a T-shirt, shorts, and you had pulled your hair up. Normally you’d not do that till the guest left but you were sad and you felt comfortable around Eddie even if he decided to laugh you were okay with that. You finally looked at him and caught that he had already been looking at you but so warmly. So you decide to tease him a little. “Edds?”“Hmm?”“What are you looking at hmm?”“Umm nothing.” You then start walking in his direction “Oh didn’t know I was nothing.” Eddie’s face just starts to burn red “Hey wait Star you ar-” You then walk past him and sit on the sofa “No it’s okay I get it Edd’s.” “Stop that.”“Stop what?”“Teasing…” “Ha, you're cute. But…NO” “Ugh.” You then held up your phone then shook it as a way to change the subject. “Music?”“Star?”“Yes?”“Are you ok?” You play the music anyways before answering “Edds honestly no i’m not. This past month they have been treating me like trash making me feel like I did something wrong. Every Time you tried to cheer me up Steve got mad and fought with you and knocked me back down. Then Nancy would either just stand there or make things worse by adding fuel to the fire as if she enjoyed the fighting. And then tonight I just wanted to forget about them completely and enjoy myself and I was until that. I hate parties and this is just another reason to hate them honestly. Then I made a fool of myself ugh. Why couldn’t they just be honest. Like why couldn’t Steve be like look I'm sorry I still care about you but Nancy and I seem to still have strong feelings for each other and we’d hate to hurt you. But noooo they did the whole sneaking around thing.”“They never deserved someone like you in their lives and karma will kick them in the ass so hard they won't be able to sit for years. I’m sorry they did this to you, they are awful people. Wait, if you hate parties then why’d you invite me to this one?”

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #nancy wheeler #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #angst #fluff #friends to lovers

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xhopelesslyromanticx · 2 years

Text

Stay - Mason Mount x Reader

Had Covid, was absolutely awful. Hope you guys are good.

Masterlist

summary: Y/n thinks Mason is a narcissist and Mason doesn’t want Y/n to move to Paris. Especially not when she's pregnant. And Ben? Well, he just tries to make them see they can work it out.

Things aren’t always easy, especially when you’re young and trying to balance it all. Your job, relationships and family. It’s all a lot of hard work to be quite truthful.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, when Mason furiously slammed the door behind him as you two stepped outside your parents house. The crisp spring air hitting your face as you had just cut your dinner at your parents house short with the excuse of being tired.

When in reality, everybody knew it was because of how Mason was sitting there, looking mad all evening. It was supposed to be a fun dinner to celebrate your big news. Everyone was there for once, even Ben your older brother. But let’s just say not everyone had taken it so well.

„I just don’t understand how you couldn’t have run it by me first.“ Mason slammed the car door of his Mercedes jeep, his beanie hanging low on his face.

„Well, I didn’t think you’d react this way.“ you sighed, putting on your seat belt before burying your head in the car seat.

„You expected no reaction from me when my literal pregnant girlfriend tells me she’s gonna go live in fucking Paris for half a year?“ he hissed, clearly very much still mad about it.

You crossed your arms as he made it sound like something it wasn’t. Yes, you wanted to go to Paris but not for fun. It was a job opportunity that had come up in the french city.

You worked as a physical therapist for Manchester United. As your brother had intoroduced you to the world of football you had known from a very young age what you wanted to do in life. And with his connections you had been able to land a spot in Manchesters team about three years ago. But things had changed, you had met Mason around the same time and after a very long while of sneaking around you had finally told Ben about it.

Your brother was of course not pleased about it. He had sworn Mason if he wasn’t serious about you he wouldn’t hesistate to kill him. But Mason had proved your brother wrong, he loved you and wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. That’s all he knew.

„Besides, you already have a job?“ Mason continued, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

„But you know what things are like there.“ you whined, having told him a million times how unhappy you were. The way things were going in the club football wise was indicating of the tension in the background.

Although you had come to love the guys you just couldn’t handle the toxic environment anymore. Plus this was a great opportunity for you to grow.

„Also this isn’t like some random club Mason.“ you sighed, trying to explain yourself to him „It’s Paris Saint Germaine. It’s not an offer you get any day. And also it’s just six months for now.“

„For now?“ Mason squealed and you could actually see that it was probably not smart to tell him that they maybe would offer a longer contract now „So this could actually turn into a full time thing?“

„No…I don’t know that yet.“ you stuttered, trying to calm your boyfriend down.

Mason shook his head as he bit the inside of his mouth, He stared at the traffic ahead of him as he tried to grasp the fact that his girlfirend just told him she wanted to move to a whole other country. And that all the while, carrying his baby.

The tension in the car was almost unbearable. Mason didn’t say another word, so you were glad when you finally arrived at his house and could escape it. Mason immediately went upstairs and locked himself in the bedroom. So you decided, having to deal with quite strong back pain, to take a warm bath and try to relax a little.

You were only about ten weeks along. You hadn’t even told your families yet. This just all came at a bad time.

„You do realize if you’re in Paris, I’m gonna literally miss your whole pregnancy?“ the door opened an in stepped your boyfriend, wearing nothing but sweats. He was trying not to sound hurt but of course it hurt him that you seemed to not care at all about him being there for it.

You pressed your lips together and opened your eyes, looking at the brown haired guy standing in front of the bathtub „That’s not true.“

„It is.“ he insisted, crossing his arms „It takes at least three hours for me to travel to Paris with everything and plus you’ll have a totally different schedule than me. There will be barely any days that we will have off at the same time.“

„But that’s also the case now.“ you rolled your eyes, playing with the foam „I’m also in Manchester and you’re here. We also made that work.“

„Yes but at least we’re in the same freaking country!“ he now hissed, his voice getting louder. He couldn’t believe you were actually thinking about doing this.

„Stop yelling at me Mason!“ you said through greeted theet, looking up at him „You’re such a fucking narcissist. All you care about is you and your career! What about me?“

„But you’re fucking pregnant Y/N!“ he swung his arms around frustratedly, not understanding how you couldn’t see his point.

„So what?“ you furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head „I just stop existing?“

„No. That’s not what I mean. But this isn’t the time to go to a different country!“ he argued, pacing up and down „And god if you fucking hate your job so much than quit it! No one will blame you anyways, you’re pregnant and you’re allowed some time-“

„I think you should get out.“ you muttered, having heard enough of his sexist nonsense. Mason took a deep breath as his expression changed, look of dissapointment on his face. He shook his head before opening his mouth but before he could even speak you interrupted him again „I really think you should leave.“

The next week was horrible. United lost against Atletico Madrid and with that they were offically out the Champions league. The atmosphere in the tunnel afterwards was obviously horrible. But it showed you once again that you had to leave this place.

„Hey Ho.“ Jesse smiled, putting his arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss against your temple „How are you?“

You sighed, walking through the emptied out tunnels with him. Looking at the inside of Old trafford before looking him up and down. He had also just been benched the whole game, so his still had his tracksuit on.

„I hate it here.“ you sighed and he chuckled with furrowed brows „Really? I love it.“

He was obviously being sarcastic. You knew he couldn’t wait to leave and you couldn’t blame him.

„Can you believe Mason actually wants me to stay at this shithole?“ you continued, raising your eyebrows as you put your arms around Jesse's waist. Both standing there at the end of the tunnel that lead into the stadium, that you had walked down all these years.

„He didn’t take the news well?“ Jesse asked, knowing of your job offer as you bascially told him everything.

„No.“ you sighed, pressing your lips together „He wants me to stay here. With him.“

„Well, that’s probably because he loves you.“ Jesse chuckled and then the door to the cabins opened and out stepped Marcus.

You and Jesse waved at the depressed looking guy as he made his way towards you with his head hanging low and while you two watched the young guy Jesse sighed „But if you ask me. Our time here is up.“

You put in your two weeks notice the next day. It was easier than expected, apparently a lot of people were quitting at the moment so it wasn’t a big surprise. With your bags packed you left Manchester that weekend, knowing you’d probably only be back to pick the rest of your things up.

It was kind of weird but you did get to say your goodbyes to your team and also to the guys and went back to London. Not having your own place there and still being mad at Mase, you decided to stay at your brothers house.

„What did you do to Mason?“ Ben asked as soon as he saw his sister enter the door, completely ignoring the fact she had brought a literal car full of her stuff.

„What?“ you asked, standing in the hallway of your brothers house „Hello to you to.“

„Hello. What did you do to Mase? He’s been acting all weird in training and can’t concentrate. Plus he’s been playing like shit.“ your brother asked again, standing in front of you with crossed arms.

You sighed, throwing your bag on the floor before taking off your jacket „I didn’t do anything.“

„Really?“ Ben furrowed his eyebrows, studying you as you pushed past him. Really craving something to eat.

„Yes.“ you sighed, entering his kitchen „He just doesn’t want me to have a career I guess. Seems like he’s stuck in the last century-“

„That doesn’t sound like Mason.“ Ben squinted his eyes, looking at you suspiciously. He watched you open his fridge without even asking before roaming it for something you liked.

Your brother knew at the moment your hand grabbed that glass of pickles and you devoured them like your life depended on it; something wasn’t right here. It took im a while two put two and two together.

The way Mason had clearly been mad at you the past week but still asked him about you all the time. If you had called or texted or whether or not he knew how you were. Ben of course found it weird that he seemed to worry so much when the two of you were clearly fighting

„Oh my god.“ Ben ripped his eyes wide open as you stopped in your tracks „You’re pregnant!“

With that being revealed, you had now to deal with not only Mason being mad at you but also Ben. But not for maybe getting pregnant by accident, no for the fact that you wanted to move his future niece or nephew to France. Ben of course immediately sided with Mason, saying this was no way to start a family.

„Just leave me alone please.“ you told your brother, who had been whining in you ear all afternoon „I have to get this zoom call.“

„No I won’t leave you alone.“ Ben pressed open the door to the guest bedroom, where you were about to have a call with representatives from Paris to discuss further details „You need to talk to Mason before you agree to anything!“

„Why does everything always revolve around him Ben?“ you hissed, taking out your earplugs „The fact that I literally had the shittiest past couple days because I had to quit my fucking job and leave behind my friends-“

„You quit?“ your brother asked, eyes wide open „So wait, you’re actually serious about this?“

It was after your call that you got a text from Mason. After a literal week of silent treatment he hit you with a „I think I strained my muscle in training today, don’t wanna cause panic for nothing though. Could you maybe look at it?“

Angrily you put on your jacket and Ugg's, not even caring you looked like a total slob. You just couldn’t believe he was stupid enough to hurt himself. If you only wouldn’t care so goddamn much.

When you walked into Masons bedroom he was laying there with his head propped up on pillows, an icebag over his ankle. You sighed as you shook your head, still wearing your jacket.

„Y/n.“ Mason sighed, watching you approach him.

You didn’t say anything, you just started inspecting Masons ankle. Pulling up his grey sweatpants a little before taking away the ice bag.

„Ouch.“ Mason sighed, when you stretched his foot a little. You looked up at him with furrowed brows, his hair still wet from showering.

„It hurts that much?“ you asked, pushing down a little again.

„Yes.“ he groaned but you just continued, trying to figure out what seemed to be the problem.

Mason sighed, looking you up and down „Don’t you wanna take off your jacket?“

„I’m not planning to stay.“ you responded, not even looking at him as you focused on your work.

„Wow.“ he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms „We are being really charming aren’t we?“

„Shut up.“ you shook your head, comparing his legs „Can you stretch both of your legs please?“

Mason did so and you had to hover above him to really get a good view. As you played around with ankle trying to test his mobilty. All the while Mason groaned in pain.

„You’re really such a sissy.“ you had to hold back your laughter, shaking your head.

„I’m not.“ he hissed, puting his lips „It just hurts like a- Ouch! Jeez Y/N!“

Mason pulled away his foot as you chuckled. The guy sat up looking at you like you had lost your mind.

„You strained your inside muscle.“ you stated, crossing your legs „Should be fine in a week or so. You just probably gonna need a week or so off-“

„I can’t take a week off now.“ he sighed, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed „I got picked for the England squad and I’m gonna be at St.Georges the upcoming weeks.“

„What?“ you spat out, hearing what he had just said.

You couldn’t believe Mason was actually gonna be away again. Especially after literally preaching about asking eachother about these things first. It was like he didn’t care about you at all. It was all about him, all the time.

„I can’t just not do this Y/n!“ Mason yelled as you stood in front of your car „It’s not like I have a choice!“

„It’s not even that Mason!“ you yelled, shaking your head „It’s the fact that you didn’t tell me or ask me first. We literally have a doctor appointment coming up. You promised you were gonna come-“

„But what about all the doctor appointments I would miss if you were in Paris huh?“ he spat out, not understanding you „You don’t seem to care about my role in this at all. Why should I?“

„Are you serious?“ you shook your head, throwing your hands around „Of course I care about the father of my future child but I’m only just finding out he’s a total narcissist.“

„I’m not a narcissist Y/n.“ he muttered through gritted teeth „I’m just saying you can’t take my child to another country and expect me to not have an opinion about it.“

„Whatever Mason.“ you hissed, opening your car door „Have a nice time at St.Georges, I’ll travel to Paris to sign my contract then. And don’t even bother to show up at my doctors appointement, I’ll just take Ben.“

„Wait he knows?“ Mason asked and you just realized you hadn’t even told him„And what contract are you even talking about?“

„I had a call this afternoon.“ you replied, looking back at him one last time „They’re offering me a full time job if I’m willing to start asap.“

The Parc the Princes was stunning and you could tell they had truly invested in it. You followed one of the managers and the boss of the medical staff through the halls of it as they showed you everything. There was an upcoming match and the team was already training on the pitch.

„I think with the job obviously comes getting along with everyone.“ Claude, the boss of the medical staff said „So I think it be nice if you could say a quick hello to the team.“

„Yes sure.“ you smiled politely, feeling yourself get nervous as you approached the players.

They were all of course mostly focused on training with some of them, goofing around.

„Ah, look.“ Claude smiled as a dark haired guy jogged towards you, a big grin on his face.

„Bonjour.“ the guy greeted Claude and you could tell he wasn’t french.

„Bonjour.“ Claude smiled back before turning to you „Achraf this is Y/n. She’s thinking about applying for the job as the physical therapist. Y/n this is-“

„Achraf Hakimi.“ he chuckled, holding out his hand to you. You shook his hand, gladly accepting his offered handshake „Nice to meet you Achraf.“

„Hakimi, watch out.“ a voice yelled and next thing you knew a ball flew directly into Hakimis face.

You chuckled seeing a younger guy that you immediately recognized jogging towards you, laughing his ass off.

„Kylian!“ Hakimi groaned, covering his face with his hand.

„Sorry.“ Kylian laughed, grabbing Hakimis head and trying to comfort him.

„And this is Kylian.“ Claude chuckled and you nodded „I figured.“

Kylian pressed his lips together, before scratching the back of his neck „Sorry about this.“

„That’s okay.“ you smiled, knowing he meant the interruption „I was just looking around anyways.“

„Y/n might be our new phyical therapist.“ Achraf now smiled, elbowing Kylians side „So behave yourself Mbappé.“

„Oh really?“ Kylian looked at you with wide eyes before squinting his eyes „Wait are you Y/n Chilwell?“

As it turned out, Kylian knew who you were. Well he knew Ben and you were siblings. All the guys were super nice and you were even invited to watch the game later. Which you of course agreed to.

After your weekend in Paris you travelled back home to London. Telling the people at Psg you‘d have to think about their offer first. You were surprised to find that Kylian had already followed you on instagram, after all you hadn’t signed anything yet.

Maybe he was just being nice. After all you did spend a really fun weekend in Paris with him. So this was probably a friend thing. He was actually a hood person and had offered you the open ear that you had really needed.

„You’re famous.“ Ben stated as you stood in front of his refrigerator once again.

„What do you mean?“ you raised your eyebrows, not getting what he meant.

„A certain big football star from France just followed you. Plus there are rumors that you already signed your contract.“ Ben stated, scrolling through his phone as you sighed.

This wasn’t the things you wanted people to know you for. It wasn’t like you didn’t have your own life.

„So?“ is all you answered, shrugging your shoulders.

„Y/n how’s Mason supposed to feel seeing this? You two haven’t even talked about-“

„I’m pretty sure we are not speaking to eachother at the moment.“ you rolled your eyes, hoping Ben realized how sexist he was being.

„You two broke up?“ Ben asked, worry in his voice. He thought all of this was just extremely unnecessary and childish. These weren’t even real problems.

„No, we are on a break.“ you stated, explaining the difference to him.

„So did he want that? What about you literally being pregnant?“ Ben looked like he alread knew the answer. Mason loved you way too much, he’d never suggest something like that.

„No it was me actually.“

Things took quite a big turn when you got a call from one of your former co-workers. They told you that one of the emergency medical staff member for the upcoming England game had gotten Covid and had infected half the team. They now were in need of urgent backup.

You sighed as the woman handed you your clothes, the ones you’d have to wear on the pitch. The bright orange vest was absoluetly awful but hey you were proud to represent your country. You were there as an expert, along the other medics.

The Wembley stadium was filling up quickly and you did realize you were gonna see Mason here. He probably knew about you coming here as you had told Ben. Waiting around on your phone as you sat by the stands, this could be fun.

It was probably your hormones that made you dread seeing Mason. It wasn’t like you took this whole break thing seriously. You loved Mason but you just had to figure out this one for yourself. Whether or not you should go to Paris was your choice.

Mason’s eyes fell on you as soon as he ran onto the pitch. He looked at his girlfriend, a million feelings and thoughts racing through his body. Hopefully you were fine. And the baby was fine. Had you really signed the contract?

„You ok mate?“ Declan asked Mason, as he noticed his friend looking rather worried. Declans eyes followed Masons gaze as they fell on you „Ah, the missus is here. Everything good between the two of you?“

„I hope so.“ Mason sighed, running his hand through his fluffy hair.

It was in the 25th minute when Mason was tackled by one of his opponents and landed on the floor. From the pain shooting through his leg, he immediately knew. He groaned in pain, holding his ankle where he had strained his muscle just two weeks ago.

„Is he hurt?“ you asked, panic immediately setting in as you checked for allowance to go check on Mason on the field.

After Mason tossed and turned on the floor, the referee finally blew the whistle and your team was allowed to go on the field.

You never hurried on a pitch faster than that day. It was the exact moment you realized you could never ever handle the pressure to work in the same club as Mason. This wasn’t just some guy. This was your boyfriend, the love of you life.

You pressed your way past Mason’s teammate, who were arguing with the opponent as your two assistants immediately checked Masons injury. The referee standing above you as you dropped to your knees, hovering above your boyfriend that was crying out in pain.

„Mase?“ asked trying to get him to look at you.

Mason was obviously hyperventilating. He was afraid of what had happened. You could tell, it had to hurt pretty bad. That’s why you had told him to rest for fuck sake. Now this seemed to be more serious.

„Mason. Listen!“ you grabbed his shoulders, trying to stop him freaking out „You need to tell us what hurts, alright can you tell us that?“

„It‘s… It‘s.“ he stuttered, looking into your eyes „It’s bad Y/n.“

You immediately put your hand up, signaling your team to come. It wasn’t long until Mason was carried out the stadium in absolute agony as you tried to cover his face a little, so he could have at least a slight bit of pride left.

You obviously volunteered to join Mason on the ride to the hospital, sitting right by his side as he laid in the back of the ambulance.

„I’m so sorry this happened.“ you sighed resting your arms on your knees as you looked at the guy, who had just stopped hyperventilating after they had to literally sedate him.

„It’s not your fault.“ he whispered, his voice shaky.

„I wish I would have been more stern with you. You shouldn’t have gone to training with your foot.“ you sighed, shaking your head as you felt guilty „If I just had been harder on you this wouldn’t have happened.“

„That’s not true.“ Mason shook his head, giving you a weak smile „I was stern with you but you still left for Paris. It didn’t keep you from foing what you wanted because you are your own person.“

„We make our own decisions that’s right.“ you nodded, agreeing with the guy.

„I saw that you got the big follow.“ Mason smiled weakly, crossing his arms „Signed the contract?“

You chuckled, looking around the car before sighing „No I didn’t.“

Mason looked surprised, he had expected you to have done it. Especially after you had seemed to have a great time in Paris.

„Actually I got the follow because I spent the whole day in Paris with Kylian.“ Mason didn’t look amused by that but you continued „And we talked, a lot and I eventually told him about you and my situation.“

„What did he say?“ Mason raised his eyebrows, surprised by the turn of events.

„He said that If he regrets one thing in life, it’s having not put his family first. Job opportunities come and go but your family is there forever.“

You grabbed Masons hand and he looked at you hopeful „So you actually want to stay?“

„I want to stay.“

459 notes · View notes

sukirichi · 3 years

Text

— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist !

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,” you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

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haikwritings · 4 years

Text

Haikyuu Boys / No Nut November - Part Two

Part One, Part Three.

Character Mentions: Kenma Kozume, Tadashi Yamaguchi, Hajime Iwaizumi, Issei Matsukawa & Keiji Akaashi.

Warnings: Smut— like smut.

Kenma Kozume

Kenma isn’t the type of guy with a high sex drive.

“A-Are you busy?” Kenma asked nervously.

He was the type of guy who had sex at least five times a month.

“No babe, what’s up?” Y/n asked sweetly.

It was a bad record— but well she didn't complain as she knew what he was like.

“I- Well...” Kenma said nervously.

And when Kuroo had proposed the challenge to him—well, she thought he would win it seriously. But apparently she was very wrong.

“I- I can’t anymore.” Kenma confessed.

“What?” Y/n asked confused.

Because right, Kenma didn't have a high sex drive but he was starting to get—needy.

“P-Please.” Kenma pleaded painfully.

She was completely confused because she had never seen him like this—but when she lowered her gaze and saw the bulge of his pants— she understood everything.

“I see...” Y/n teased as she smirked.

She thought he would last longer but hey—twenty days wasn’t a bad record.

“You know what happens to losers?” Y/n teased as she touched his bulge, making him jump.

But he knew what was coming.

“They get punished.” Y/n said as she licked his neck, feeling suddenly Kenma’s moans.

“I- I—” Kenma moaned as he grunted—

Accidentally cumming from her not so innocent touch.

“S-Sorry.” Kenma said embarrassed, trying to compose himself.

“And you know what happens when you cum without permission, right?” Y/n whispered in his ear flirtatiously.

“I get punished.” Kenma stutter excitedly.

It was going to be a long night.

Tadashi Yamaguchi

Yamaguchi had accepted the challenge with his best friend, Tsukishima.

“Y-Y/n—” Yamaguchi moaned.

He thought he was going to make it but he was very wrong.

“I- I—” Yamaguchi moaned as he continued to hump his pillow.

He wasn't much of a fan of sex, but since he had his girlfriend—all of that had changed.

“I- I just like that.” Yamaguchi continued moaning, thinking and imagining that the pillow was his beloved girlfriend.

He had already gotten too used to sex—so much so that the most he could go without it was three days.

“Baby?” Y/n asked as she saw his boyfriend.

And it had been six days.

“I-I’m cumming.” Yamaguchi stutter as tears left from his eyes— he couldn’t stop... he needed to cum.

And he was too shy to ask her for help.

“A-Ah—baby.” Yamaguchi said as he came in the pillow, making a complete mess.

He just didn’t know how to say in a completely sweet way that he wanted to fuck.

“I- I— lost.” Yamaguchi said as he tried to regain his breathing.

He just didn’t know.

“I- I notice.” Y/n said as she giggled.

But he knew he needed to say it.

“C-Can we...” Yamaguchi stutter nervously.

And she knew he needed to say it.

“C-Can we fuck?” Yamaguchi asked nervously, blushing in the process.

And that’s all she needed to hear.

“Anything for you baby.” Y/n smirked.

Hajime Iwaizumi

“Hajime?” Y/n asked as she saw him standing on the living room.

She knew he was going through hard days because of the trainings he did—

“W-What is wrong?” Y/n asked worried as she saw him looking at the floor.

And she knew that he lowered the stress with sex.

“Baby?” Y/n asked as she got closer to him.

Sex that he wasn't having as he was trying to win a challenge.

“Iwa...” Y/n said as she caressed his cheek slowly.

A stupid challenge that Oikawa had proposed.

“I-Iwa—” Y/n stutter as his lips crashed with hers.

And he couldn’t wait twenty days...

“I-Iwa.” Y/n giggled against his neck, feeling him so desperate for her.

He just couldn’t.

“Shhh—come on, let’s go.” Iwaizumi said as he carried her to their shared bedroom.

He just loved sex.

“W-What about the challenge?” Y/n giggled sweetly.

And he loved her.

“Fuck that.” Iwaizumi said as he continued kissing her.

So why would he do such a stupid challenge?

“Ready to play?” Iwaizumi asked smirking.

“Yesh, Hajime.” Y/n answered sweetly, suddenly earning a concerning gaze from him.

“Uh oh, that’s not my name princess.” Iwaizumi reminded her.

It didn’t make sense.

“Sorry...daddy.” Y/n answered sweetly.

Fuck Not Nut November.

“That’s my baby.” Iwaizumi said as he close the door of their shared bedroom.

Issei Matsukawa

“I-Issei!” Y/n moaned as she rode him.

“What? Cumming already?” Matsukawa asked smirkingly, giving her a harsh slap on her ass.

His old friends had proposed the challenge to him.

“Is my princess already cumming?” Matsukawa asked smirkingly, suddenly feeling her clench against him.

Challenge he promised to follow.

“I- I— fuck, princess.” Matsukawa grunted as he felt her gripped around him.

Challenge he had forgotten...

“If you keep doing that I’m going to cu—” Matsukawa was saying—

Accidentally.

“W-Wait— I c-can’t cum—fuck.” Matsukawa said desperately, suddenly remembering the challenge he had accepted.

He had forgotten about it when he saw his girlfriend.

“B-Baby fuck, s-slow down.” Matsukawa pleaded, almost crying.

He didn’t knew if he wanted to cum or win the challenge.

“I- I— faster.” Matsukawa said as he held her hips, speeding his movements.

His brain wasn’t working at the moment.

“I- I can’t cum, I-I won’t cum.” Matsukawa said, not making sense— nor stopping.

“W-What?” Y/n moaned confused, seeing her boyfriend desperate.

He wasn’t making any sense.

“Fuck!” Matsukawa said as he came inside her.

But he sure did cum.

“I- I just cummed...” Matsukawa whispered.

Loosing the challenge in less than a day.

“Oh well.” Matsukawa said not caring.

What a loser...

“Round two?” Matsukawa asked smirking.

But oh well, maybe next year?

Keiji Akaashi

“Fuck, just one more day.” Akaashi said proudly, looking at the calendar.

He had been able to hold out for twenty-nine days.

“Just one more...” Akaashi said as he looked on his pants—seeing his painful bulge.

He didn't know how he was doing it, he practically felt like he being tortured.

“Babe?” Y/n asked as she walked to their shared room.

“Y-Yes?” Akaashi asked, suddenly being perplexed by the view.

And not only was he being tortured by his thoughts—

“Y-Y/n...” Akaashi gulped.

He was being tortured by his own girlfriend.

“Do you like it?” Y/n asked as she as she make a little spin, showing him the new lingerie she bought.

He was living a hell.

“Fuck.” Akaashi stutter as he held himself with the closet.

He was suddenly feeling weak and—

Wait

Is he cumming?

“K-Keiji!” Y/n yelled worried as she saw him close his eyes.

“Fuck, fuck.” Akaashi stutter, coming from his high.

He did—

“F-Fuck! No!” Akaashi stutter as he saw the wet patch on his pants.

He couldn’t believe he had lost...

“Aw babe, you came.” Y/n giggled teasingly—earning a dangerous look from him.

And all because of her.

“Bed, naked, open, now.” Akaashi demanded.

“Yes sir.” Y/n answered smirkingly.

She knew she was going to be punished

But it was worth it.

General TagList: (If anyone wants to be added or removed—please send me an ask or a dm).💕

@elianetsantana @pillowpets @boosyboo9206 @chagi-nana @melacholy @kara-grayson04 @sangwoosashyashes @milkawabread @answer-the-sirens @habi20212 @thelilyflowersworld @kellesvt @yuueisteria @dai-tsukki-desu @saeranoppa @wompwomphq

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu smut #hq smut #kenma smut #yamaguchi smut #iwaizumi smut #matsukawa smut #akaashi smut

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amxranthiine · 3 years

Text

kalon

(n.) the kind of beauty that is more than skin deep.

request: Can I ask for platonic Thranduil with sister in law reader, reader is Legola's aunt and she saved Legolas' mother from dying but ended up paralyzed from waist down, needing to be on a wheelchair (let's pretend they have wheelchairs), and Thranduil is very grateful and helps reader a lot with things?

pronouns: she/her

a/n: like six months late but ITS FINE

warnings: ANGST n fluff. mentions of death and orc attacks. nightmares.

---

“Nana? Nana! Wake up, nana, please! You have to wake up!” A little Legolas screams as he watches his mother and aunt’s bodies be carried in by his father’s guard. His mother was pale and lifeless - cold hands and dark eyes, staring back into his own blue orbs as he shook her body. Though, he felt no love from her stare. Nothing about her was the same, her soul had already been lifted from her fragile body.

Next to her lay his aunt, Y/n, his mother’s sister. She was alive but unresponsive, blood was leaving her body faster and faster each second, pooling beneath her like a crimson ball gown. From behind Legolas, his father, Thranduil, was quickly approaching the scene. Loud orders from him to his guards could likely be heard throughout the palace. One would be a fool to miss the fear, desperation and anger laced in his voice.

Y/n stirred from the commotion, her eyes burning and her body flaring in pain as she tried to become responsive once again. She could feel every centimeter of her wound, the sword that stabbed her was likely poisoned - and it embedded it’s way into her spinal cord. She could feel her life force being drained, the light becoming far too close for her liking. Even if she lived, she knew nothing would be the same - with her body and with her family. She had been too late to save her dearest sister, and that thought alone was almost enough to make her give up. However, her little sister left her a nephew and a brother, both of which would need guidance recovering from her sister’s death.

“My King Thranduil -” Started the Captain, though he was soon hushed by the horrified Elf. Thranduil was terribly shaken up, his hair was messy and his robes wrinkled, likely from the speed at which he was running.

Thranduil looked at his beloved Wife and sister in law, and he felt his blood run cold. There was - there was so much blood. His wife was nearly blue and unconscious, was she... No, he wasn’t think like that. He looked over to Y/n, where she was struggling to open her eyes, and groaning from the giant hole in her back. He could feel the tears in his eyes, and he knew deep down that his son no longer had a mother.

Y/n heard her brother in law approaching, and even though she was on the verge of death, she felt as though she had to be the one to break the news. “Thranduil?” She croaked, her throat dry and her lips cracked.

The King rushed to her, grabbing a waterskin in the process and lifting it to her lips. She coughed as she drank down as much as she could. “Y/n...”

She ignored the burning in her eyes and looked up at him, and suddenly, she wanted to cry. She didn’t have that much time left, and she had so much to say. Y/n attempted to take a deep breath, then said her last words.

“I’m so sorry, Thranduil. I - I couldn’t save her - I tried so, so - hard. Please, tell Lego - Legolas we loved him.” She used the last of her energy to say those words, and soon, her eyes slipped shut.

“No! Y/n! You can’t leave me! You can’t leave us! Legolas will need guidance. I will need guidance! Legolas just lost his mother, he can’t lose you too!”

The weight of losing both the love of his life and his sister crashed down on him, and he fell to the ground with a heartbroken scream. A tiny body forced itself into his lap as his son wept along with him, not knowing if he’d ever see his mother or aunt again. Thranduil’s arms wrapped themselves around Legolas as he rocked back and forth on the floor, weeping and crying out to the Valar, cursing them and asking to spare them.

Thranduil gasped for breath as he jumped awake, beads of sweat rolled down his face as he regained consciousness, the nightmare - no - memory he had tried so hard to forget was now engraved into his head once again. He felt the urge to go check on his, now paralyzed, sister in law. Her wounds from that awful day were fatal, but somehow she pushed through the worst of it.

Though, not without consequence. Apparently the blade had all but destroyed her spinal cord, and because of it she was paralyzed from the waist down. The healers told him that it was a miracle she was still alive.

He got out of bed and put on a velvet robe, ignoring the chill in his bones from the cold air. He quietly tiptoed to her room, trying to ignore the feeling of dread, likely the product of his nightmarish memory.

Soon enough, as it was right down the hall, he arrived at his sister's chambers and, as quietly as he could, opened the door. His heart dropped when he saw that she wasn't there, and her wheelchair was nowhere to be found.

Thranduil panicked, his mind buzzing for any clue as to where she could be. The kitchens? No, she has trouble reaching the cabinets, and the accident made it even harder for her to see. Legolas' chambers? Hard no. She could be quite clumsy and can't be quiet to save her life. Literally.

He was starting to panic. What if she was kidnapped? His dearest sister in law, kidnapped by the very creatures who paralyzed her in the first place? It seemed realistic. At least, it did to Thranduil - who was losing his mind from worry. Though the only way they could get into the palace was through the-

Of course! The Royal Gardens!

In his state of worry, Thranduil had conpletely forgotten that Y/n liked to go to the gardens when she was having a hard time, because it was one of the only places that reminded her of her sister, the place where they had the most memories.

He took off towards the Gardens, not really caring about it being in the middle of the night as Elves were light on their feet anyway. In moments he was standing before her, nodding at the guards who took place at the Garden entrance.

Y/n was laying on the grass, her wheelchair was forgotten next to her, and she was playing with an orchid she had plucked, twirling it between her fingers carefully. Thranduil's heart throbbed as he realized that orchids were his wife's favorite flower, and that Y/n was missing her as much as he did. If not more, the sisterly bond between them was something he had never seen before.

He cleared his throat, alerting the woman if his presence. Her head turned slightly to the left as a way to acknowledge him.

"You scared me, Y/n. I couldn't find you, so I assumed the worst." He muttered quietly and sat down next to her.

She chuckled, "You've known me for how long and you still don't know that I tend to... gravitate here?"

The King sighed, he had always known that she used jokes as a coping mechanism, a way to escape her reality. "Yes, yes, I know. I just... I was worried," He frowned, taking the delicate flower from between her fingers. She paused, and he could practically see the gears grinding in her head out of his peripheral vision.

"You're having nightmares again, aren't you?" She asked, and he could feel her eyes burn into his head.

"They aren't just nightmares, Y/n," He twirled the flower absentmindedly, "they're memories."

This time, it was her who sighed, "Of that day?" She questioned, already knowing the answer, but his nod only confirmed it.

"I miss her," Y/n said, looking up at the night sky. Thranduil went to say something, but she held one finger up. "Let me finish. Sometimes I wish it were me who died, instead of her. She had you and Legolas to come home to, and I didn't really have anyone. Yes, I had family here, you and my nephew for example, but my sister was your wife and his mother, and the queen for crying out loud. Why am I saying this? I honestly have no clue. I suppose my point is... After the accident, I was overwhelmed in guilt and sadness. I didn't really focus on the fact that I was alive because of you. You and Legolas have taken care of me since day one and I can't remember if I've thanked you for that. So... Thank you. For helping heal my mind, and my body, even if their isn't much left of it. I am eternally grateful for you, brother."

Thranduil stared at her, and Y/n sniffled. At some point along the way she had started crying, and he felt like he was going to as well. He pulled his sister into his arms and held her tight as she cried, holding onto one of the last pieces of family he had left with an iron grip.

"You do not have to thank me, sister. You are family and you will be treated as such, even during hardships such as that one. If anything, I should thank you for being there for both Legolas and I while we were grieving, even if you weren't in the best state yourself."

Y/n giggled, much to Thranduil's delight. The sound had pulled a small smile onto his face and they both relished in the quiet for a moment.

Finally, Y/n pulled away, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "Alright, my King, help me up."

Thranduil laughed, a very merry sound, and helped her into her wheelchair. "As you wish, my Lady."

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hansolmates · 3 years

Text

busted in busan

summary; you’re snowbound at the airport, when the only thing you want is to be homebound. your anxieties heighten as the snow rises, worried that you won’t make it in time for christmas where your fiancé and his parents expect you—picture perfect. when all flights are cancelled due to a massive storm, you have to turn to the hands of an unlikely, hard-headed hero who knows the fastest way out of busan (and into your heart) pairing; jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; a christmas detour!au, fluff, angst, slice of life, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, pining, this is a total romcom, hallmark movie galore! tw–microcheating (or not however you look at it) mentions of sex, making out, profanity w/c; 10k a/n; for @suhdays holiday hallmark event! this event was totally up my lane, i couldn’t wait to post it! a huge thank u for @eerieedits for making this wonderful fic banner! this is totally unedited, i’ll to go back to it tonight but pls enjoy! for those of u who need a little more christmas charm this year, this is for u

if you loved this icy couple, please consider giving it a like n’share!⛄⛄⛄

“The Korean Air 1102 flight from Gimhae International Airport to Incheon International Airport will be delayed six hours due to the intense weather conditions. Please be on standby for any further updates.”

You’re twitching, fighting the urge to nibble on your nails because you’ve just got them done for Christmas. They’re a sleek champagne gold, because your fiancé insisted that they’re far more mature than your usual red and brown reindeer art. This is awful, and is only going to get progressively worse as the snow builds and builds. Right now the weather isn’t that bad, the snow isn’t even sticking to the ground and—oh.

Gnawing at your lip, your fingers brush over the cold window, a clear view of the landing strip you should currently be boarding. The touch is icy, and the pads of your fingers are enveloped in little rings of fog at the sudden warmth nudging the glass. Upon closer inspection and a squint of your eyes reveal that in fact, the snow is now sticking to the ground. Big, fat clumps are covering the freeway and destroying your Christmas plans.

Your fiancé will understand if you’re a little late for their Christmas Eve party, but you’re not sure if his parents will. You’ve been on livewire all week, wanting to at least spend the morning of Christmas Eve with your family back home. Knowing that your fiancé’s Christmas Eve party would run until very late, you booked a noon flight with enough time to get ready and impress his parents. Evidently, it was an ill-prepared idea.

Immediately falling into your terminal’s line, you hope that you can talk with the receptionist in hopes they could put you at ease.

“How soon will you announce our flight’s departure?” A sad smile.

“Is there any way you can put me on the next possible flight?” A shake of the head.

“Will the weather let up?” A frown.

Every bit of rejection weighs you down, and you’ve run out of questions to ask. For a receptionist, she’s not very receptive.

“C’mon lady, you’re holding up the line,” a voice tugs you from behind, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta get down to the city on Christmas.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, wanting to slap the rudeness off this man’s face. Instead of falling back in line, you move to the side to glare at him. He’s unfortunately attractive, albeit in a rugged sort-of way—nothing like your fiancé. The leather jacket that he carries tall is worn and crackly at the collar. Wavy dark hair he constantly has to hold back, a gesture that looks flirtatious and to your chagrin the receptionist is definitely recepting to him.

“Your refund should be processed in about two to four business days, Mr. Jeon,” the receptionist murmurs, the simultaneously sultry and chirpy voice making you twitch in your spot. Maybe if you drank a cup of tall, dark and handsome you’d be getting the same kind of treatment.

“Thanks,” he replies shortly, and it’s then you notice the extremely large luggage next to him. It’s the size of you, and despite the broad shoulders under the baggy jacket, he lugs it with careful force, making sure not to bump into anyone as he wheels it away from the counter.

It seems that your trainers have a mind of your own as you follow him down the terminal. He side eyes you as your feet pick up the pace to match his long legs, but he waits for you to say something first.

“Why did you ask for a refund?” you ask, frowning at him, “the flight is only delayed.”

He scoffs, “Do you see the snow? They’re just saying it’s delayed so they can hold onto your money a little longer. Besides, it’s a win-win. I get my refund sooner and some other poor sap can take the ticket and wait until five in the morning.”

“Five A.M.,” you exhale to yourself, slowing down.

It would be too late by then, far too late. Your shoulders slump, people start to bump into you without a care.

“Besides,” you hear his voice say from your stricken form, “I had a backup plan.”

That’s when your feet start to burn up, and you whip around to pump your legs, catching up with the man who’s already far down the hall. “What kind of backup plan?” you blurt, raising your voice because the crowds are starting to get noisier and deeper the further you follow him.

He hooks his lips into a confused frown, “You’re awfully nosy.”

“I’m in a pinch, my fiancé’s parents will kill me if I don’t show up to their party tonight.”

“Your fiancé’s parents… will kill you?”

“That’s an exaggeration,” you cough, immediately feeling self-conscious, “they’d kill me with their eyes. They’re really big, really pretty corporate people. They have high expectations for their future in-law.”

“Ah, and you're the country pumpkin who managed to sweep the rich guy off his feet?”

“Something like that,” you reply, rocking on your heels, “my dad was his dad’s former secretary, and we grew up together.”

The stranger with a plan stops in front of a long line. It’s so long that you’re not entirely sure where it leads to. People are piling out the door two at a time, and you can see they’re trying to get through the process as fast as possible. The window leading outside is blurry and caked in white ice. He hooks one leg over his luggage, the metal and plastic case is so high that his feet barely touch the ground. Like a kid with a flat scooter, he wheels himself through the line.

“These lines are for busses going in the direction of our flight,” he jabs a finger out the door, “if the flight got cancelled I was just going to ride one of these,” out of his pocket he pulls out two tickets, flicking it in front of your face.

“Are there any tickets left?” your eyes bug, and you immediately pull out your phone to reserve a spot.

“Nah, been booked since last month.”

It’s then that your eyes zero in on the second ticket he has in hand. Both tickets are addressed to the same name. You lower your phone in your pocket, narrowing your eyes. “Why do you have two for yourself?”

He pats his luggage as a response.

“That’s not fair!”

“It is when you buy it, sweetheart.”

“A literal human could be in that spot, wanting to go home for Christmas!”

“You’re just salty you don’t have a ticket, don’t take it out on my luggage,” he feigns a pout, rubbing the handle of the heavy container, “you’re hurting it’s feelings.”

It doesn’t take long for you and the stranger to reach the end of the line. To others in line the two of you look like two companions bickering good-naturedly, but in reality the only thing you want to do is slap that smug smile off his face.

“You want my ticket,” he states.

“I want your luggage’s ticket,” you bite back, staring petulantly at where he sits comfortably between the handle.

Unbeknownst to you, the man’s face morphs into a teasing grin upon seeing you glare a little too hard at the silver and black case. It just so happens that your eyes gravitate to the middle of the luggage, at the apex between his long legs leading up to a pair of black sweats. Despite the soft, baggy fabric you can see how the bulge of his thighs outline the thin cotton, looking large and inviting which—

Fuck. You’re engaged. Why are you checking out some stranger’s thighs? Your fiancé also has nice thighs, think about those!

“How much do you want for it?” you cough, crossing your arms and turning to the side to hide your flaming cheeks.

“Who said I was offering?”

“I’ll pay that and then some.”

“With your rich-boy’s money?”

If your hands were not digging into your elbows and you weren’t so concerned about your gold-foiled manicure, you’d deck him. Do the holidays normally make this person so snappy? He simply flips his hair, and you catch the shaved ends of his sides.

“Three-hundred,” he says easily, and if he notices you staring he doesn’t say anything, “including any extra fees for my luggage.”

“Done,” you hold out your hand for him to shake.

“I’m Jungkook, if you care,” the man named Jungkook adds wryly, practically swallowing your small hand with his larger one. You shortly reply with your name, and he merely nods, “a thank you would suffice.”

“Thanks,” and it’s then that you manage a scarily pretty smile, one that Jungkook finds both alarming and amusing. It’s a catered smile, one that you’ve trained yourself to accomplish after hours in the mirror in fear of your fiancé’s parents seeing right through you. It’s the smile you give during work when you don’t give a shit but you need to suck it up. It’s a 9/10 success rate.

“Scary,” he shivers, and then you realize he’s the 1/10.

The only bus for you two to pile on is one of the smallest. Probably half the size of a regular coach bus, but at this rate you don’t care. You’ll fly by hot air balloon if the weather wasn’t so crappy.

“Taehyung!” you startle at Jungkook’s sudden belt, and he does a big, beefy-chested bro-hug to the driver. Ah, so he has connections. You watch the two interact from your corner, pulling up your hood to stop the rapidfire snowflakes from pelting your eyes.

The driver is a classically handsome thing, dark eyes and dark fluffy hair. His paperbag pants look absolutely frigid however, and his teeth are chattering as he regards Jungkook with annoyed eyes.

“Listen, so plans have changed—”

“As always, Kook.”

“—and I need you to do me another solid. Do you have room in the compartment for my babies?”

“The answer is, and always no. That’s why you bought two tickets.”

“I know but,” he gestures to you with a jab of his thumb, “like I said, plans have changed.”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung frowns, “trying to do some Christmas miracles? In this snowstorm?” Taehyung shakes his head, eyes flickering to the running bus. Most of the ticket holders are already on it. “I can save you two a three-seater, but there’s no room in the compartment. It’ll be a tight fight but—”

“It’s perfect. You’re dynamite, Tae,” Jungkook even has the audacity to reach his hands out and squish the driver’s cheeks, much to his distain.

The two of you are ushered quickly into the bus, leaving you in the very front diagonal to where Taehyung is sitting. The three seats are tiny, it probably barely fits Jungkook’s thighs with the large luggage nestled in the other two seats. The two of you suggest to put the luggage out in the aisle and take turns holding it, but Taehyung interjects that the luggage is a fire hazard.

“But not a human,” Jungkook decides, and he gestures for you to sit down in the available seat. You’re practically shoved against the window as Jungkook manages to squeeze his gargantuan luggage in the other two seats. He’s tall enough to grab the metal rungs of the bus, steeling himself in the middle of the aisle.

Taehyung doesn’t fight with that, and finally puts the bus into drive. Pulling out of the airport feels akin to leaving the eye of the storm. It’s going to be a long journey, and it makes you worry as to whether you’re going to make it on time or not.

Your favorite pastime is watching the window on a long car ride, especially when the snowflakes crystalize and melt away through the warmth of the vehicle. However, you’re irked. You thought Jungkook was a bit of a wank, a little too full of himself and far too mysterious for your own good.

Exhibit A, the luggage that’s currently threatening to wheel over and crush you against the glass. You wonder what’s so special about this luggage that Jungkook so desperately wants to protect, even so far as to buy its own seat. Sneakily, you lean over to smell the zipper. Surprisingly, it smells a little vinegary, the fumes getting you a little lightheaded within seconds. Your eyes dart to Jungkook, who’s currently engaged in conversation with Taehyung. You tilt your head and sniff again, confirming the slightly rancid smell.

It’s then you take in Jungkook’s form once more. He dresses a little schlubby, his clothes are old, his eyes are sunken in, and his luggage is filled with weird-smelling things.

Oh no. Is Jungkook a drug dealer?

Your fiancé’s parents would surely have a fit if this man gets arrested and you come up in the report as an accused accomplice. It makes sense, he would want to make sure that his goods are in his view at all times, and it explains why he so easily gave you his ticket for triple the actual price.

A giggle interrupts your thoughts. Yes, a tired, yet bubbly giggle. Jungkook’s face is pressed against his bicep, and you catch the fluttering of his eyes as he tries to keep up with Taehyung’s rambling. His grip is starting to loosen on the metal bars, and you’re worried that he might accidentally slip, or not hold tight enough in the event the car takes a sharp turn or slips on black ice.

“J-Jungkook,” it’s the first time you’re saying his name out loud, tasting it on your tongue as you regard him steadily, “why don’t we take turns sitting? I don’t mind standing for an hour while you sleep.”

He regards you with a sleepy smirk, shaking his head against the fabric of his jacket. “You’ll be flung in two seconds, besides can you even reach the handles?”

Good point, but Jungkook is far more muscular and if he does end up flying he’ll crash through the window and further hinder your commute. It’s why you choose your next words carefully, and you convince yourself it’s the only reason as to why you propose your solution.

“I’ll sit on your lap,” and since it sounds super weird coming out of your mouth, you tack on, “I’ll put your jacket over your lap as a barrier.”

He slacks, regarding you with a scrunched face. “Is the jacket supposed to make that situation any better? I’m fine standing like this.”

“This ride is going to take hours and you’re barely on your own two feet,” your point is made when the bus topples over a speed bump, and Jungkook looks awfully small as he moves to grapple the top bar with both hands, “my fiancé doesn’t get jealous, I’ve sat in plenty of friend’s laps before.”

“We’re not friends,” he blurts with a raise of his brows.

“Yes, I know that,” you’re a little insulted by the curt reply, but he still looks rather horrified that you’re proposing the following, “I don’t like it either, but I’m sitting in your seat and now I’m feeling guilty as hell.”

It’s a lot of shuffling and shifting after that. You try not to laugh as Jungkook rips off his leather jacket, folding it into a perfect square, ironing out the corners of the crinkly fabric as he gestures for you to take a seat. You try not to take note of how sturdy his thighs are, or how the muscle stretches across the seat so well that there’s no way for you to fall between the cracks.

“You’re going to sleep anyway,” you try to assure him, side eying him as he presses his forehead against the window, “it’ll be like being with a dead body.”

“Didn’t know you were into necrophilia, but whatever floats your boat,” Jungkook mumbles, eyes immediately fluttering shut.

At first it was easy, ignoring the fact that you’re sitting on top of a human. The drive seems endless however, Taehyung driving further and further into a sea of white ice. You force yourself to thread your fingers together, sitting on the very edge of his knees with your back ramrod straight. Eventually, you tire out and relax against Jungkook’s lax body. Your face is centimeters away from Jungkook’s. Long, dark lashes, and a strand of equally dark hair falls in front of his eyes. His cheeks are flushed from the blaring heater, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

Hm, for a drug dealer, he smells pretty.

Despite the weird-smelling luggage that looms over the two of you, the white long-sleeved shirt he wears is soft to the touch and smells fresh.

You huff, and shift in your seat.

“Stop,” Jungkook mumbles into your shoulder, and you don’t have the heart to look at him.

“I’m sorry, it’s cramped,” you reply.

“I get that, but you don’t have to—hike yourself so far up here,” he sounds almost embarrassed saying it, and his hand shuffles to adjust his belt. “Literally can’t sleep because you’re making me pop a boner.”

“Why, I’m engaged!”

“God, I know. It’s like your personality trait or something,” Jungkook retorts, “just because you’re engaged doesn’t stop my body from reacting. I’m sure your fiancé has reacted like this, stop acting like a blushing virgin.”

You tense, your eyes glued to the window in front of you. How do you even make a comeback to that? Wringing your hands in your lap, you feel your palms sweat with nerves the longer it takes for you to reply. This causes the gears to run in Jungkook’s mind.

“Holy fuck, have you two not—”

“Shut up,” you hiss, turning your body around to slap him in the chest, “shut up shut upupupshutup!”

You make seething, burning eye contact with Jungkook. You expect him to have a shit-eating grin on his face, teasing you for your relationship. Instead, Jungkook is wide-eyed, mouth parted open like a confused guppy and his big bug-eyes looking stricken. He says nothing.

The road starts to get bumpier, and the drive swerves from time to time to avoid black ice. Neither of you are relaxed. Combined with the heart of the storm, your heart is currently wrung on electrical wire, pumping blood with a fervor you cannot stifle.

“I’m going to put my arms around your waist,” Jungkook murmurs softly, and you lift your arms slightly to see him lace his fingers over your belly button. “Like a seatbelt.”

You sigh, relaxing in his hold. Now it’s awkward. He feels compelled to hold you to keep you safe, even though he clearly finds it awkward you’ve already put him in this position.

Jungkook isn’t so bad, you think as you let your gaze linger on his hands. They anchor you to his lap, making sure you’re not jostling during the ride. He may have a razor sharp tongue and gets under your nerves just for the heck of it, but he’s kind of nice. Under the prickly leather jacket, there’s a softness to him you can’t help but gravitate to.

It’s dark outside, save for the speedily descending flakes and the dim lights of the highway. You’re sitting on the lap of a total stranger, yet it’s a stranger who’s holding your waist like he’s a seatbelt, a stranger who’s making you feel safe to say the words that have been haunting you for the past few months.

“I’ve tried to initiate sex,” you finally say. “I don’t know why he doesn’t want me, it’s already been two years.”

Your eyes turn red with bloody horror. Your vision blurred by the insanity of what you’ve just blurted out to this surprisingly kind stranger who’s offered his seat (both times) to you.

“I didn’t mean to word vomit like that. Forget I said anything—”

“Must be his loss,” Jungkook cuts you off, and when he says it doesn’t feel impolite at all. However, Jungkook doesn’t continue on, doesn’t give you rhyme or reason, just lets you linger on his reply like a madwoman.

Maybe it’s because you’re so touch starved, maybe you’re just seeing things, but for some reason Jungkook’s fingers feel more apparent against the seam of your jacket. They tighten a fraction, drum around the metal zipper that holds the thick fabric together. Your palms feel like a fountain, and you try to ignore the burn between your legs, the liquid heat betraying the commitment that sits on your finger.

You’re engaged to be married, you chastise yourself. All eighteen carats that symbolize that bond glare at you, bright and eager to make you feel guilty. The whole reason why you’re on this cramped bus ride is to get to your soon-to-be husband. Some pretty stranger with strong hands won’t change that.

“We’re here! Finally!” Taehyung cheers, and you realize now that you’re parked into a tunnel surrounded by other buses.

Jungkook and you wait until everyone steps off the bus. The pads of Jungkook’s fingers play an unsung tune, absentmindedly drumming to a song you can’t put your mind to.

“God, you can’t just pay the extra money for someone to take care of this?” Taehyung hauls the large luggage in the aisle seat, and you feel like you’re being revealed under a curtain, doing something you’re not supposed to be doing.

You hop off his lap, scoop your backpack in your arm and scramble off the bus. The cold, winter air bites into every available pore in your body, replacing the warmth that Jungkook gave in the tiny bus. You hike the collar of your oversized turtleneck higher up your chin, prickling in shivers as you wait for Jungkook.

“I don’t remember Seoul being this, empty,” you say to yourself, frowning at the lack of humans past the bus station. You peer curiously at the dark, dark road off the terminal. There’s no flicker of light, or a skyline filled with bustling sounds and flickering head beams.

“That’s because we’re only halfway there,” Jungkook walks past you, luggage in tow.

“What?” you pull out your phone, it’s already 4PM and it’s pitch dark outside.

The snow is beating down as you two speed walk out of the hangar, reaching a nearly vacant parking lot save for a pure white minivan. You barely notice the vehicle with all the snow, blending in perfectly as wave after wave of ice beats down on it. The pops of rust by the tires, gaudy orange stripes is the only thing you can focus on as you try to make it to the car as fast as possible.

“Get in and start the car,” Jungkook practically shoves the keys in your hands, gesturing for you to take the passenger seat.

When you enter his car, you’re hit with a scent scarily identical to the one in Jungkook’s luggage. You nearly gag when you inhale too much, and your eyes flicker over to the lemon air freshener attached to the exhaust, trying its best to mask the smell. You vaguely remember all the warning stories your parents told you as a kid—never enter the white van.

Ohmygod, you’re in a white van and all of Jungkook’s drugs are in the back.

You shake your head, willing the car to start as you arch your back over the console to start it up. You’ve been around your fiancé’s parents too long, letting them fill your head with judgemental gab and crazy assumptions only rich people have about people lesser than them.

Once the car spurs to life, soft holiday music plays from a pop station. The front window of the car is absolutely covered in snow, you can’t even budge the windshield wipers to scrape the layer of ice off.

Suddenly, a blanket of ice slides off the window, swept to the concrete. You’re met with Jungkook’s toothy smile and horror-esque stare, and you have this jerk reaction to nervously laugh and jump in your seat. Your nails dig into the cheap fabric of your seat as Jungkook’s scary expression melts into a more softened one, as if happy to have gotten you to laugh in such sucky times. Jungkook continues to brush your windows, meticulously making sure no ice can cause any damage as you two go into the night.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road!” Jungkook whips the door open, throwing the snow brush at the space between your feet.

As soon as he shuts the door, your stomachs growl simultaneously.

The two of you break into a quick laugh, giggles that overlap the twinkly holiday chimes and the packed snow crunching under Jungkook’s boots.

“After McDonalds,” Jungkook declares, setting up the GPS for a quick pitstop to the nearest fast food joint.

Ten minutes into the drive, you pull into a generic food joint, too starved to find gourmet McDonalds. You make it a point to flick your card and lean over his body to meet the cashier, telling him you’re spotting the meal. Jungkook doesn’t complain, and tells the cashier to add in a vanilla sundae for good measure.

Color yourself impressed, but you can’t help but gawk as Jungkook expertly sets up his food on the dashboard like a five-star meal, with fries in the cupholder and a burger unwrapped perfectly to catch any spills and to keep his fingers from getting greased up. For such a terrible snowstorm, he pulls out of the joint gracefully, a brief intermission in your long journey.

“So, is my fiancé’s place far from where you need to be?”

Jungkook shrugs, a stray fry hanging from his mouth. “It’s not far, not close either. I don’t mind, I like driving.”

“Do you drive around a lot?”

“Yeah, for work. It’s a little annoying that I have to spend Christmas alone, but it is what it is.”

Pausing on your speculation, you take a big bite of your burger. You were hoping that your conversation would spur on a little more detail about his drug-esque job. However, all you start to feel is the heaviness of your fast food meal, stemming from your chest and filling your grease-filled stomach.

“You’re spending Christmas alone?” you say, and you don’t mean to sound so sad saying it, but the thought of him being alone tonight makes you feel pinched with pain.

“I can practically feel your puppy-eyes,” Jungkook shakes his head, not even needing to look at you as he focuses on the road. “I’m fine, don’t you worry.”

“Do you wanna come to the party?” you offer, trying to sound as neutral as possible as you throw the suggestion on the dash.

“Not my thing,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, “with my line of work, I prefer to lay low.”

Trying not to feel a hurt by the sudden (but expected) rejection, you practically eat your burger whole, eyes glaring on the road. You surmise it’s a valid excuse, drug dealers aren’t exactly one for highly-populated areas and with your fiancé’s reputation, you’re sure his parents would smell Jungkook’s reputation in a micro-minute.

The drive isn’t anything special. You’re sure if it were spring, the foliage would be pretty and the sun would be setting into melty orange hues by now. It’s all black and white, boring shades that are aggressively pelting at the van and hindering your evening.

“So, what other character traits do you have?” Jungkook cuts through your semi-brooding, as easily as one slices through butter, “other than the obvious that you’re engaged, and that you’re getting married. And oh yeah, you have a fiancé!”

You scoff at his cheesy joke, folding your arms together. “I like spending time with my family. Watching movies under a weighted blanket. Plants.”

His stare dips away from the road for a fraction, enough for you to catch that he’s rolling his eyes, “Fascinating. Not a plant person myself. I like those cute little succulents though. Had a bunch of those in college.”

“I am also a ramen connoisseur,” you say pointedly, turning up your nose.

“Ah, are you?” you smile a little when you see Jungkook’s eyes light up at the mention of food, “what’s the criteria for good ramen?”

“Deep, creamy broth. Also, the egg. Gotta look like a custard-y, eggy sunset. It’s just,” you smack your lips together, mimicking a chef’s kiss, “perfect.”

He chuckles, and goes on to tell you a story about a ramen shop he’s visited on his travels. It’s one he declares that you need to visit, one he still dreams about often. It takes a ferry and it’s a bit of a trek, but he says it’s worth it, and the eggs are as custard-y and sunset-y as you’d like.

It’s between pockets of his story and pulling yourself out of this little bubble of a van you realize: are you flirting with Jungkook?

The longer this trip goes, the more your stares linger. They linger like the snow that sticks to the ground, unable to do nothing but cling. Layer after layer of confusing feelings, building up to a blizzard that you’re unable to quell.

“So, your family’s also going to be at your fiancé’s party?” Jungkook asks, poking at yet another one of your personal facets. He’s being blatantly nosy, yet neither of you seem to mind.

“Oh, no,” you shove your hands in your pockets, “they wanted to stay back in our hometown with the extended family. Y’know, the older members can’t really travel as much as they used to.”

“Ah, so you’re splitting up your time,” Jungkook drums his hands on the wheel, eyes drooped slightly as he continues along the monotonous road, “your fiancé couldn’t make it?”

“Couldn’t,” you reply lightly, “just, y’know, work.”

“Been there, done that,” Jungkook replies, “I’m sure he missed out though. What’s your family like? Are they the type to bake cookies until 3 A.M.? Oh, or do they get wine drunk and talk shit about their annoying cousins—”

“Jungkook,” the words fly out of your mouth before you can even think, “I’m engaged.”

The weight of your words holds differently now. A whole day has passed with this man, and you’ve developed an attachment that simultaneously scares and thrills you. Not an hour goes by that you have to think to yourself that you’re taken, to the point that you can’t even tell what’s in your head and what’s being spoken out in the air.

Instead of a snippy comment, a snarky retort of, “I know, I know!” like you anticipate, Jungkook stops the car.

There’s no human trace for miles, so it doesn’t scare you when he slows down and pulls off to the side. He gears the car into park, roughly pulling the handle. He lays his arm over the steering wheel, turning his body so he can face you fully. The heat in the car suddenly feels too cloying, and you shrink in the seat as he leans in on you.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, and from the looks of it, he’s genuinely hurt.

“I—Jungkook,” you plant your feet on the ground, trying to find some power in this situation, “I mean I, we—you just can’t keep doing this.”

“Do you feel like I’m trying to steal you away? Or, seduce you or something?” Jungkook is starting to talk himself into a stupor, eyes flickering from the window, to you, to behind you, and back to you. It’s almost jarring, seeing how self-conscious he starts to get without the presence of an audience. Gone is the smooth talker that you met at the terminal, willing to haggle it all for your cash. “Are you uncomfortable? Is it weird I have a crush on you?”

“Wait, you have a crush on me?”

He reels back, nearly pressing his head against the window. Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, exhaling deep from his lungs. “Adults still get crushes, y’know.”

“Yeah, but not to people you met eight hours ago.”

Jungkook arches a brow, “People fall for people in the most unlikely of ways.”

That singular statement hits you, hard.

Jungkook looks like he wants to get out of the van. He seems stuffy, and he unzips his coat and shoves it under his legs.

“You’re cute,” he echoes the statement like he can’t believe that in a short amount of time, he’s attached to you, “you seem to have good taste, you love family, and your personality isn’t half bad,” the last bit is meant to be teasing, a lighthearted way to end his bout of emotion, but it only makes you ache further, “And it makes me upset knowing that you have to keep convincing yourself that you’re in a relationship that isn’t as fulfilling as you hope. This whole drive, you’ve been anxious about going to his parents, worrying that you’re not going to make it on time instead of relaxing with your family. Where you actually want to be.”

“I also want to be with Jimin,” you say weakly, a half-hearted attempt to defend yourself.

You never mentioned your fiancé’s name until this point. It makes Jungkook stiffen a little, finally putting a name to the man that’s supposed to have your heart. It makes the relationship concrete, palpable.

“I’m sure you do,” Jungkook smacks his lips, evidently sealing the conversation to suffocate under the snow.

Jungkook puts the car into drive, sliding back into your current route.

“And to answer your question, Jungkook. No, you having a crush on me is not weird,” and smaller, quieter, you reply, “because it’s weird that I might have a crush on you, too.”

You know that Jungkook catches your statement, because he cranks the volume of the radio harder, effectively shutting you out.

The first thing Jungkook says when you finally reach the Park’s house is: “Wow.”

His van looks completely out of place, parked on the side as limos and Escalades drop off more and more people into the large estate. It’s pouring with elegant piano music, and the large window in the middle of their home reveals a century-old chandelier, crystals beaming and winking against the hundreds of guests that lie underneath.

The rest of the way driving was almost painfully fast. After that awkward wave of emotion, neither of you said anything. Well, you didn’t at least. Jungkook attempted to clear the air by singing along to the Christmas songs on the radio, but it only further attracted you because to your chagrin—Jungkook’s a pretty good singer.

The estate isn’t in Seoul persay, it’s a sizable plot of land that definitely comes from old money. It’s decked up like the North Pole, lit up and tiny crystal lines dotting the expanse of the rooftops. The snow certainly adds to it, and many guests are outside taking pictures of the picture-perfect holiday show. The blizzard has finally subsided, leaving a clean blanket of snow across their yard.

You scoff to yourself. What they find to be a Christmas miracle only derailed yours.

Jungkook stares at you while you send a quick text to Jimin. You tell him he needs to come fast, because you don’t want his parents to see you all sweaty and dressed like you’ve been traveling for hours.

“Oh, uh,” you finally take a look at him, and you immediately regret it because you’re getting sucked into his gaze, “I think you put my bag in the trunk?”

“Right,” he shakes his head, “follow me.”

He tilts his head down when he’s outside, as if the snow’s going to start back up and drown him. Your thumb scratches the ring on your finger as you hop out of the van, effectively popping the bubble the two of you have been sealed in for the better half of the evening. Is this going to be it? Is the last you’ll see of Jeon Jungkook?

All those thoughts evaporate when Jungkook opens the trunk.

There’s no drugs.

In fact, you don’t even know what to think. The van is absolutely filled, wall-to-wall art supplies and canvas carefully lined up like Tetris blocks to avoid damage. The floor of the van seems to receive the brunt of the messes, and you catch recent paint stains and spray cans stacked to the side. It explains the smell.

There’s some clear cases in a corner, protecting completed prints that are already framed. Your eyes cling to a vibrant hyacinth, coral and satin blue petals bunching in the middle of a black background. It’s absolutely gorgeous, if it wasn’t for all the paint lying around, you’d think it’s real.

Jungkook’s an artist.

“Holy shit, I thought you were a drug dealer,” you blurt, and you want to smack yourself in the face.

“Excuse me?” Jungkook jerks his head towards you, “did you think I was a drug dealer this whole time?”

“N-no,” you frown petulantly, letting Jungkook loop your arms through the straps of your backpack. “Maybe. You were very shady.”

He laughs, a genuine laugh. It confuses you, the way he tucks his hands in his pockets and bends his back over to look up at you through his dark lashes. It’s like nothing’s wrong, like he’s trying to erase the past eight hours and leave with no qualms. You don’t know if that comforts you or terrifies you.

“So, you were willing to let a potentially dangerous man be your travel partner for eight hours so you can make it to your fiancé’s party?” Jungkook’s eyes flicker over to the front door, “you must really love him.”

“I do,” you say the phrase like it’s second nature. Rehearsed. Practiced.

“Merry Christmas,” Jungkook pulls out his hand, and you don’t hesitate to grasp it.

Liquid heat sparks through your skin, one that tingles from where his large palm encases yours, all the way to your heart.

“Merry Christmas,” you echo, and your feet feel like lead as you back away from him.

Jungkook waits until you go inside the house, even though the valet is side eyeing him and mentally telling him to leave already. Turning your back to him is rough, like you’re without snowshoes and you’re trudging through snow.

The goodbye feels rushed. Your heart is cold and heavy. Unfortunately, by the time you realize you haven’t paid Jungkook for his bus ticket and the ride, it’s too late. Jimin has already pulled you in his awaiting arms, and Jungkook has peeled out of the driveway.

“You look awful,” Jimin coddles you, dusting the invisible dirt off your jacket. You know Jimin means well by the statement, but you can’t help but feel a little unsupported by his words. You did all you could to make it to Jimin in time for this party full of faceless, nameless people. And yet, Jimin inadvertently manages to put you down for finally making it.

The hallway is relatively empty, save for one staff member who cleans the wet linoleum floors whenever someone with snow steps in. You can easily make out where the heart of the party is, the tinkly holiday music playing from the speakers, along with all the bodies huddled by the extra large Christmas tree that is brimming with presents.

You do feel like a wet noodle, in comparison to Jimin and Namjoon’s complementary pinstripe suits. Jimin’s deep burgundy suit pops in the endless hallway of marble and light wood as he quickly leads you upstairs to a spare room for you to change. Namjoon’s more muted grey still looks stunning on him, cutting his tall figure nicely. You think it’s cute that Jimin made an effort to match with his assistant, not making him feel out of place in this big party.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Namjoon interjects softly, gesturing to the garment bag hanging on the boudoir, “I picked out your dress.”

“I’m sure whatever you bought is beautiful,” you assure softly, stepping fully into the room. It’s an extra bedroom, you’re assuming it might be yours.

“We’ll give you some time to freshen up and get ready,” Jimin squeezes your arm, a touch you can barely feel due to the puffiness of your down jacket. It’s just an awkward escape of air to you, a sssttt that you catch Namjoon hiding his smile for, “we’ll walk around a bit and bring you some food.”

“I want cupcakes,” you blurt impulsively, and the two of them laugh on their way out the door.

Once you’re finally alone, you strip yourself bare. Jacket, shirt, socks, underwear. You make quick work of taking a hot, damp towel to wash your arms and legs, scrubbing your face of any oil and dirt from the day. You wrap yourself in an indulgent fluffy robe, the plush material comforting you as you flop on the bed.

It’s been a day.

You take a five minute cat nap, the weight of the day taking its toll on you. When you finally flutter your eyes open however, you see him.

It’s not exactly him, it’s his art. It’s mounted right atop the headboard, a large blown up painting of a tiger lily. The orange and gold flecks flicker and go perfectly with the decor of the room. The piece is longing, aching for you to go back to two hours ago when you could’ve phrased your words better, balm the situation into something to salvage. This must be a sign, you think. Upon closer look, you see the signature Jeon JK etched in silver in the corner. Who knew the Parks were buying Jeon Jungkook’s work, the world is smaller than you’d originally thought.

It ignites you. You rip the zipper of the garment bag, pulling on the slinky glittery gold dress Namjoon picked out for you. It’s gorgeous, and you don’t know how he managed to find your proportions, but you figure an assistant of his caliber has access to many things. You don’t have much time, so you slap on some light makeup and swipe some highlights across your eyes. By the time Jimin returns, you’re pulling your hair up and out of your face.

Jimin walks to the bed with a pretty red velvet cupcake, “You look beautiful,” he says immediately, and you follow to sit with him at the foot of the bed.

You don’t hesitate to grab the cupcake from his tea plate, nearly shoving it in your mouth. You definitely need a rush, something to curb you over for the plans you have tonight. “Sugar sugar,” you chant like a mantra, and you don’t care that your lipgloss is smudged and crumbs cling to your cheeks.

Jimin just rubs circles onto your thigh, letting you eat and relax. He knows you’re not a fan of these kinds of parties, preferring to wallflower it, preferably at a wall closest to the buffet. His touch is comforting, and you chew slower in order to prolong the inevitable. It takes a beat for you to finish your cupcake.

“I need to talk to you,” the two of you blurt at the same time, and you point and giggle at each other like you’re still five year olds tinkering in the sandbox.

Jimin pouts, “Can I go first? Mine’s kind of important.”

“Mine’s also really important,” you don’t mean to invalidate Jimin, but you really need to get this out. “I might explode if I don’t say this now.”

The blonde scrunches his nose, obviously weak to your unusual distress, “I guess I wouldn’t want that.”

You clutch his hand, the hand that holds the plain wedding band he picked out for himself two years ago. Your eyes flicker to how your ring kisses his, “Jimin. I love you, like really love you. I can’t imagine my life without you, you’ve been my best friend since we could crawl. But as I traveled down here, I realized that even though I love you, I think I’m not in love,” you wince at how cheesy that sounds, “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not good enough, but the whole trip down here made me realize I don’t think I can commit to this.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” you gasp, watching relief wash over Jimin’s features. You’re not even done with your whole spiel and he’s already unbuttoning his blouse, “this makes what I’m about to say a whole lot easier.”

“Jimin,” you trail off, squeezing his palm, “what do you mean?”

“I mean, I think I’m in love.”

Your jaw slackens slightly, seeing the sweat that lines Jimin’s slicked back hair. He must’ve been thinking about this all night, waiting for you to tell you this. Your chest aches, weighing in on all the sudden facts. “Who is it?” you ask.

Jimin shrugs, “The man who does my taxes and makes sure I sleep at least seven hours a night.”

“Namjoon,” you conclude, eyes moving to the sealed door. You think Namjoon is waiting out there right now, silently supporting you two as you go through this. Of course, Jimin’s parents would be livid if anything would tarnish his reputation. A broken engagement would be sticky to cover up, and Jimin falling for his assistant is a headline right for the books.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispers, despite the room being vacant he feels the need to keep his words short, “You came all this way to hear this. But I guess we’re on the same page, huh?” His soft fingers make a beeline for your ring finger, removing the diamond band, “And by the way, I love you too. Which is why we’re going to come clean in the morning and work this out with my parents, together. I’m sorry if you felt obligated to follow me all this time just because our parents did.”

“Hey, like you said, we’re in this together. Both in and out,” you chastise, pulling your engagement ring from his grasp and holding it to the light. “Can I keep this? Instead of an engagement band, it can be our best friend band. I’ll even get it re-sized so it can go on another finger.”

Jimin pulls you into his arms, crushing you. The silky material of your dress bunches and rides, but you don’t care. The two of you can’t help but be a little crybaby-ish about it, feeling much like your younger-selves when you had to pull each other out of trouble.

The two of you walk out of the bedroom hand-in-hand, and Namjoon is leaning against the banister in the hallway, a soft smile melting on his tanned skin.

“I’m so happy for you,” you gush, hugging Namjoon tightly. You’ve only known the man for a few months, but you can tell he’s taking care of Jimin and that’s enough for you.

“I… really thought you’d be more upset.” Namjoon marvels, patting your back.

Jimin interjects, “I think she’s found someone hotter than me.”

“Impossible!”

You could stay at this party, lay low until you and Jimin have to confront his parents in the morning. They suggest to get all the food they need and sneak out to the home theatre. The three of you hustle it down the stairs to another part of the house, in order for you to make your getaway and avoid Jimin’s family.

“Hey,” you stop in front of another painting, pulling the two men to a stop. Your eyes lock on a framed droopy peony, tipped with pink dye. You realize you can’t stay here, not when someone’s home alone tonight. “Namjoon, I need you to locate someone for me.”

Jungkook does not expect to see you at his front door.

You’re stunning, and look as breathless as he feels. The liquid champagne number that hugs your frame does things to him, and he’s strangely attracted to the fact that you paired this expensive dress with your snow-drenched trainers.

You showing up at the wee hours of the morning was the last thing Jungkook thought would happen. It’s nothing short of a holiday event, you look like you’ve just walked out of a gala and then ran a marathon to reach him.

He thought when he said goodbye, it would be the last time you’d cross paths. At first, he was okay with that. After all, feelings come and go, and spontaneity only works a percentage of the time. Seeing you presently however, throws all those half-hearted concedings out the window.

“Hi,” you finally say, drinking from the fact that you actually found him.

“Hey,” Jungkook breathes, “you look, beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you smile.

“So, is this about you not paying me back for the ticket?” Jungkook suddenly feels guilty, having dipped out of Jimin’s manor once he saw him appear at the door. It was unrightful jealousy, and because of that he needed to drive away as fast as possible. “Because honestly, it was me messing with you. I really don’t need the money.”

“I figured, from the fact that I had to take the elevator up to the penthouse of the building.”

“So then why are you here?” Jungkook wobbles on the balls of his feet, unsure of what to do with himself.

“My ex-fiancé is in love with someone else,” you lay your cards out just like that, and Jungkook’s unprepared to deal.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry—”

“Let me finish,” you cut in gently, “my ex-fiancé is in love with someone else, and that’s okay. We’ve been best friends since we were little, and we want nothing but happiness for each other. And for me? Happiness is right in front of me.”

You bite your lip, and Jungkook fights down the urge to run up and pull you into his arms. You must be so cold, running out without a jacket and rushing to his home. However, he lets you finish, and he holds himself down by clutching the door frame as casually as possible.

“I also have a big, fat crush on you,” you say boldly, “and I had to tell you as soon as I could. It took a twenty-minute phone call and some serious leverage from Jimin’s company to figure out where you lived. That receptionist is definitely not letting me use my frequent flyer miles next flight.”

“You harassed an airport receptionist just for me?” he smiles wanly, placing a hand on his chest, “I’m touched.”

“You make me excited to try new things, to be spontaneous and do things for myself,” with every statement you take a step further, and soon enough you’re in his dimly lit apartment. The plush couch in his living room looks awfully warm and comfy, and the light music that plays from his speakers is soft and soothing. “So, let’s spend the holidays together and see where this goes. And go to your art gallery tomorrow, because I did research you on the drive and found out you had to rush here because of a big show.”

“So you’re actually a stalker?” Jungkook teases, tugging you over to the couch.

He takes the lead, plopping himself on the couch first and inviting you to sit next to him. You take a detour and plant your body atop of him, and with an ‘oof’ the two of you are sinking.

“A stalker and a potential drug dealer does sound like a promising pair,” Jungkook jests, his hand palming the silky material of your ruched up ball gown.

“I’m sorry,” you pout, wrapping your fingers around the long tresses of his hair, “can you please stop bringing that up? It was judgemental of me.”

“I like when you’re judgemental,” he pokes your puppy-faced cheeks, ruddied with embarrassment. “I like picking fights with you and getting you all riled up.”

“Will you rile me up now?”

Sexy, he thinks. He figures a vixen has been hidden under you, one suppressed by a complicated engagement and many other factors he’d love to learn about in the near future. The situation at hand however, is far more pressing. Your body is finally warming up, and Jungkook tries to ignore the weight your body is causing, re-igniting an ache he felt hours ago when you two were squished against each other in the coach bus.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you declare, and you look a little frustrated that Jungkook is taking so long to process this information, “and I hope I take your breath away.”

You taste like sugar and the softness that comes with the holidays. It’s tender and oh-so comforting, and Jungkook can’t help but squeeze your hips closer as your lips brush fervently against his. The feeling is both new and old, and Jungkook figures you’ve finally uncoiled a flame that you can no longer quell.

Soon enough your kisses turn hungry, and Jungkook has to remind himself that you two have only known each other for a total of twelve hours, and he isn’t sure of what’s appropriate to jump to due to the speed of your relationship. Once he feels the first roll of your hips, a liquid heat that Jungkook can’t help but return back, he pulls away from your soft lips. Not too far, but a few centimeters apart so that Jungkook and you can catch your breath.

“We should take this slow,” he starts, trying to make a reasonable impression now that you’re a guest at his home and finally settled from their long trip. “I really, really want to get to know you. And you’re so beautiful and I really do want to have sex but—”

“Jungkook, I have not had sex with someone in two years,” you speak with a depraved tone, as if it’s been centuries since you’ve been touched. He can’t help but throw his head back and laugh, “a night full of sex sounds like the best last-minute present ever.”

You bring his hand over to your core, the shiny glassy material of your gown doing nothing to hide the glimpses of pleasure you’re minutes away from experiencing. You whine desperately at the thought, and Jungkook’s a goner.

“Well, I guess I’m about to pull a Christmas miracle,” he murmurs against your lips, ready to work his magic.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst

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bloodyhell-lucifer · 3 years

Text

Accident | Tony Stark

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!reader

Summary: Few months ago you were attacked at night when you were going back home from a girls evening by a group of some men who tried to beat you down just because you were girlfriend of the one and only iron man. Tony on the right time got the signal by Jarvis that you are in danger and saved you. Now you want to go out with your friends again. It would be the first time since the accident and Tony is worried and being overprotective. Some way he got irritated by your behaviour.

Warnings: slight angst, reader being involved in an attack, language, fluff at the end

Notes: I had that idea in my head for so long so I decided that I’ll write something from it and there it is! My first Tony imagine. Tell me what you think and also follow me if you like my works, I’ll post more of it xx love you guys

You were on your way to Tony’s lab to announce him that you were leaving soon. Your friend invited you to her birthday party so you finally decided to move on and go. It’s been like six months since your last party that ended you being scared and frightened from going out from your home and elsewhere without Tony himself. That awful night you were going home alone because you’ve had an argument with Tony and you told him that he is not your babysitter and that you can handle going home without him especially driving late at night just to pick you home so you two can go back home together. You were fool yourself for not calling the cab to drive you because it was summer so you decided to take a walk. If you could you would like to forget that and remove that memory, but what’s done it’s done you thought. You should live forward. You tap the code to Tony’s lab and you saw him sitting back to you, in front of his computer, making some improvements to Jarvis. Tony was dressed casually, black jeans and dark green hoodie hugged his toned chest. He sense your presence without turning around checking who it is.

“Hi baby” he said turning back to you, a big smile on his face.

“Hi Tony” small smile appeared on your face as well. You came closer and you were standing in front of him.

“What’s on that beautiful mind of your babygirl? I see it in your eyes that something is bothering you” Tony placed his hands on your hips and urged you to sit down on his lap. You did as he pleased, your hands going around his neck so you could play with small hair on his neck.

“Y/F/N invited me to girls meet up and I think it’s right time to go out finally” you spoke avoiding his gaze, because you already knew he wasn’t going to like that idea and you were right from the start.

“You are not going anywhere. Not for know. You know how it ended the last time you went out when we argued.” His lips were in the firm line, brows clenched and visibly vein popped up on Tony’s forehead. He clenched his squeeze over your hips.

“I know that you are worried but I don’t wanna sit in this house forever, not be able to seeing my friends. You are not my father Tony.” You got up from his lap and crossed your arms over your chest.

“You know that friends could come over in anytime to see you. You don’t have to go out to actually see them.” He turned around in his seat and got back to his computer, starting to ignoring you.

“But I want to go, I know that, that night I was fucking stupid for not calling the cab and going home safely but know surely I won’t repeat that.” You insisted, getting irritated.

“For fuck’s sake Y/N! You ain’t going anywhere and that’s the end of the conversation. I don’t fuckin’ like the idea of you going to your friend’s house to girls meeting and at the end of the day suddenly nobody wants to drive you home or take care of you when they sure know that we had a argument but on the other hand even when we are fighting with each other, on every day and every hour you can call me and I will come and get you home because that’s what I’ll do to keep you safe and it doesn’t depends on our little fights.” He yelled, his fist coming in contact with the table, face turning red. You flinched because of the sudden movement he did. He faced you again and now he was so close to you that he was towering over you and you could smell his perfumes.

“I want to have fun again. I was and I still am a little frightened because of what happened but I won’t move forward sitting in this house forever. I know that you are worried and being protective but I want my life back. I’m siting here for over six months and I want to know the world again.” You sighed, looking at your feet because Tony’s gaze was to intimidating to look him into the eyes.

“You accidentally survived. I don’t want to lose you to some pricks coming after you because they don’t like me. To that day I’m blaming myself because I was a fuckin’ idiot for not coming for you and driving you back home. It could’ve end so much worse then it did Y/N. I love you and I’m not ready to lose you.” He grabbed you by your waist with firm grip and you decided to look at him. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were looking into yours with serious doubt. On his forehead appeared a few wrinkles.

“I’ll stay. I don’t want you to be worried and stressed because of me. I’ am so pathetic. I don’t want to cause you any problems.” You placed your left hand on his cheek, feeling his light stubble under your palm.

“You don’t cause any problems, doll and I’am so fuckin sure you’re not pathetic. You’re the smartest woman I’ve ever known and od course beautiful as hell and mine as well” Tony’s grip tightened on your hips and know he was smiling to you like a child that received its favourite toy. His hands came to your checks, squeezing them lightly. “Look at me darling. I love you and I’ll protect you, no matter what” His gaze was so pure and on the other hand confident that his eyes were like saying its truth on their own, no words needed.

“I love you too and I’m sorry.” You grabbed him by his neck and let him hug you. Tony’s hands come tightly on your back, bringing you closer to him so he could put his chin on your head.

“I don’t even know now why I was so mad at you on the other evening. You’re walking cuteness and goddess in one. I can’t be mad at you for long.” The man said, placing a delicate kiss on your head.

“Guess there is two of us.” you laughed softly, hugged him tighter and making Tony laugh a little as well.

“We’ll do this. I’ll drive you to that house where you girls have meeting. Then you’ll call me later and I’ll pick you up and we will get home together. What about that?” He asked, looking at you.

“Oh are you sure? I mean I can stay, really.” you said disbelieving that what he said seconds ago.

“I’m sure. You are right that I can’t imprisoning you in that house. You should live your life and have fun, but in the safe way. I know you would do the same for me.” He wrapped one arm around you, leading to the exit of his lab.

“Of course I would” you were shocked of sudden change of Tony’s mind.

“Now go get dressed, put on some make up, all that all girls shit and I’ll Waite for you in the garage and I’ll drive you there” He opened the door for you, leering you go first.

“I love you. Seriously. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You added, grabbing him by his neck connecting your lips in a needy kiss. His hands immediately went to your hair, tugging them slowly, making your whimper. The kiss was rough, but also loving.

“See you in couple minutes” Tony said, winking to you, admiring your flesh.

He was the man of your dreams and you wouldn’t do anything to broke his trust, even if it meant staying a bit longer at home. You loved him and you would do anything to make him happy and feel loved.

#tony stark imagines #tony stark #tony stark fluff #avengers imagines #tony stark smut #tony stark angst #iron man imagine #iron man #iron man imagines

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thejudgingtrash · 3 years

Note

11. “...did you just sniff me?” for percabeth pretty please 🙏🤍🤍🤍

Heya! I’m finally here to come back to this request 😄😄 It took me only a little bit in comparison to other requests, but I'm here!

Also since @percyheartsannabeth, @skaterannabeth and @not-optimistic-petrol-biscuit had asked about fluff. Here you go... Kinda? 😬 Anyway. Here's a monster sneak peek into may I introduce you to my beloved wife? 😋

It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to pump out 11k words. That's a record for a single session in one day (with like two breaks). And yes, that is still not the entire chapter. Here are roughly 9,2k for you to consume!

TW: alcohol, overbearing relatives not minding their own business, a tiny section talking about domestic abuse and Athena and Frederick Chase ain't shit but that's nothing new. Poseidon too, for once. Enjoy!

may I introduce you to my beloved wife?

(*absolutely not proof-read, my bad)

Annabeth sighed. You can do this. You can do this. You’ve already finished the week. Think about the money. Think about the move to California. Push through this day and next week, think about the money and the minute you’ll hand your termination in. She wanted to splash some water up her face, but the makeup that tinted her lips in a luscious rose and added some bronze to her high cheekbones was too expensive to be washed off and hastily reapplied.

It was pre-Dionysus Day, which meant it was merely the calm before the storm. The first sparkling sip of an impending disaster waiting to rollover the roomy Greek villa Percy forced her to stay in. Well not really forced. Forced and bribed her to stay in. That made it sound slightly better. Just think of the one-hundred seventy-five dollars he’s going to transfer into your bank account for your new start in California. I should renegotiate. California is also expensive. Make it two-hundred fifty thousand.

The tall blonde looked at her reflection in the mirror. A young woman full of life was the first thing she had seen in the morning but now she looked tired and annoyed, just how she felt. Something crashed in one of the dozens of rooms next to her and people laughed. Annabeth sighed again. It was the only thing she could do, otherwise she would scream like a banshee, making sure that at least Hermes and Prometheus would check her, if it wasn’t for Percy stuffing socks into her mouth to make her shut up before they got to her. The majority of his Greek relatives had been lovely if not terribly nosy and overbearing. It was the opposite of her family. His was warm and chaotic and for the most part welcoming. Hers? Cold, apathetic, disapproving of everything she did. She had no family in comparison, and neither would she want to compare this wholesome messy bunch to the cold-hearted Athena Pallas and the monster that was Friedrich Chase.

Annabeth respected Hera and Hestia, she definitely side-eyed Aphrodite who was cheating on her husband and she would definitely stay away from Zeus. Crossing paths with him occasionally in the New York office of Atlantic INC. was terrible, seeing him openly be flirty and loosen up during a forced trip was way worse.

This was a bad idea and I have a terrible feeling about this. The burgundy wrap dress that hugged her skin was soft and light but in the Thessalian heat it felt like a sticky cocoon caging her. She wasn’t a beautiful butterfly, ready to burst out and wow everyone. Neither was she a moth drawn to a flame. She was a bug that had been sprayed by Percy with a pesticide, wrapped in toxic chemicals which were slowly dissolving her body, piece by piece.

A knock shoved the horrendous image inside of her head aside. “Yes?” she asked with a firm voice. Too firm with a hint of annoyance, but she was not a professional actress and could not switch her emotions off as she pleased. She was a junior marketing manager for Christ’s sake. Not for much longer. Only two more months…

Percy opened the door. “Are you ready?“ he asked with his usual pleasant baritone reaching her ear.

He wore light linen pants that hugged his legs loosely and a light blue shirt with the first buttons opened up. She could see his defined chest and the swirls of black hair peeking through. The hair was styled into a disheveled curly mess which suited him way better than the gelled back corporate look and he forgot to trim his beard like the day before. Annabeth couldn’t deny what she saw – her tormentor was a very attractive man.

“Do you want to bail?” His sea-green eyes darkened a shade. Worry flashed through them.

Annabeth exhaled sharply for the last time. “I wish I could but then I’d leave you without a fiancé,” she smiled through the pain.

Her glance found her reflection again. The topknot was still intact, and a few strands carefully framed her heart-shaped face. She looked perfect on the outside and she wanted to commit manslaughter in the inside.

“Let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and stretched his hand out. It seemed like Percy was the one that would rather bail.

Annabeth took it without any complaint. She was the happy girlfriend soon-to-be-wife and holding hands was way better than being forced into kissing him during Sports Day. The Theodoropoulos family truly had planned activity after activity during those two weeks in winter.

“Oh!” Sally peeked into the bathroom and saw her son holding Annabeth’s hand.

“There you are! Is everything okay, mija?” she asked with her sweet Dominican accent and looked at Annabeth.

Annabeth automatically smiled back. Sally was the mother she never had, and it broke her heart crumble by crumble by the sheer charade Percy and she were forced to display for the next six days. Sally Jackson deserved the best. She certainly didn’t deserve being deceived and lied to by her terrible son and his tag-a-long coworker.

“Yes, Percy was just making sure we’re arriving on time.” Annabeth got on her toes and placed a soft kiss on Percy’s stubbled cheek. It tickled but by now she had gotten used to it.

He rolled his eyes, smiled at his mother, nonetheless. Sally’s eyes sparkled and she clapped, clutching her hands tightly. “You don’t know how proud you’re making me, mijo,” she then said teary-eyed.

“You finally found a great girl and she is standing next to you.” Sally wiped a tear away and the awful feeling that sat on Annabeth’s chest and made everything heavier, amplified by a thousand times.

This was way worse than being referred to as the woman that would bear him three to five children presuming with the first one sired on this current vacation by Ares. Yes, Annabeth wanted two children at max, but not definitely now. She was twenty-eight and in the prime of her life! Note: Percy would certainly not be the father of said two children. Unruly blond waves and a mischievous grin blitzed through her head. Pale blue eyes came back from the deepest pit of her memory. Luke. Fuck no, that was even worse than Percy. His betrayal… Annabeth tried to shake the memory off and focused on the ongoing situation in front of her.

Sally truly hoped her son found love and not a quick fling. Oh shit, Annabeth thought and looked up to Percy whose face expressed similar thoughts. His conscience nibbled and guilt flooded his body.

“Mamá,” Percy began and released Annabeth’s hand in order to grasp the older woman’s shoulder.

Sally brushed his large hands off. “No, no! Off you go! You younglings should be downstairs celebrating your reunion with the entire side of Poseidon’s family.”

Annabeth appreciated the fact that Sally was invited and flown out each winter holiday by the Theodoropoulos’. Despite having been divorced from Poseidon for over twenty years, she was still a popular and welcomed guest, not just because of her son’s attachment to the Greek side and his tied division of the Greek family company.

Sally gave each of them a last smile before entering the women’s bathroom. Percy exhaled and pinched his nose. After ten seconds he released the nose and looked back at Annabeth. “Ready?” he asked a final time. Annabeth nodded.

The loud singing, yelling and talking that had been muffled by the bathroom hit her by a tenfold. The place had all the Mamma Mia vibes without the fun singing four days ago. Not anymore, as drunk relatives hit up the shore with loud music and talked loudly in their Pontic Greek dialect.

As the couple descended the stairs and walked through the parlor, a new wave of guests arrived at the same time. Three people that have just entered early adulthood looked up to them. Two men, one blond with a stoic face and bronzed skin, the other was shorter with spiky black hair and a beautiful grin on his lips. The woman next to him was the tallest out of the trio and possessed a high ponytail that would leave Ariana Grande dying out of envy. The dyed lilac hair swung around and nearly reached the middle of her thighs, meaning the hair was even longer without its tight prison on top.

“Thanatos, Zagreus, Megaera!” greeted Percy and gave each one of them a rib crushing bear hug. They looked pleasantly surprised at seeing Percy being accompanied by a pretty woman his age. It seems like the proposal didn’t reach all of the ends of the Greek world.

They fell into a short conversation in Greek and Annabeth smiled politely next to Percy as she fell entirely out of place. The evil Duolingo owl didn’t prepare her for this experience. Neither did her mother bother teaching her at least their Athenian dialect properly. She could introduce herself in Greek, order a beer, say goodbye and that was it. Thank you, Athena. For nothing again.

“Oh, you must be Annabeth,” Megaera eyed her carefully and Annabeth had the feeling that she could split her open with her hands. Weirdly enough, Annabeth was kind of into it. Megaera wasn’t only as tall as Percy but she was clearly the one with the toughest workout regimen as she displayed her muscular legs and defined arms with a short cocktail dress only a few shades darker than her hair.

“Yes,” Annabeth squeaked. She nearly added a ma’am towards the end. Megaera cocked her dark eyebrow. She had an aura that demanded respect.

“Interesting to see the woman who captured Perseus’ heart. It seems that he did develop a good taste after all. Calypso was as pretty as the crescent moon flower but sadly as dull as his corny jokes are.” Megaera’s deep smirk was a stamp of approval as her eyes roamed all over Annabeth.

“Hey!” Percy interrupted and placed a firm hand on Annabeth’s waist, as if he was trying to mark his territory.

“You have your own toys right to your right,” he then added with a playful tone.

Megaera actually laughed and waved dismissively. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for more.” A clear offer which left Annabeth’s face turn into a fiery tomato red.

“Anyway, we have some catching up to do,” Thanatos proposed as Zagreus and he silently watched the conversation blossom. He sounded as reserved as he looked.

“Indeed,” Zagreus agreed, surprising Annabeth with a posh English accent. “Father will murder me if we miss out on his moussaka. It’s to die for you need to try it, Annabeth, at least before Hephaestus gets ahead of himself.”

Annabeth laughed. The Theodoropoulos did have their positives. “I will, Zagreus,” she nodded.

“Oh please, if aunt Sally gave her go for you to stay here, you’re as good as family. We’re Than, Zag and Meg for you,” Zagreus offered.

“Annabeth is already my nickname but thank you for the kind offer!”

The three new guests went on to join relatives and friends at the party which seemed to get more chaotic by each passing minute as the volume seemed to increase.

“My cousin Zagreus from my uncle Hades’ side,” Percy explained as the three went out of his sight.

“Are they friends? Or…”

“Pretty sure they’re polyamorous. You know, I don’t know, and I honestly don’t really care, I see Zag once every twelve months at max. Just don’t stick to Meg’s side for too long otherwise she’ll turn you into her fiancé.” Percy’s tone suggested that he was not joking.

“Oh.” Annabeth didn’t know what to think of it.

Percy closed his eyes as if he was making a silent prayer, before his sea-green met Annabeth’s light gray ones. She smelled like lemon with a hint of lavender, instead of roses like normally. Delicious. If it weren’t for the fact that it was Annabeth.

“So, listen. You know I’ve talked about Dionysus Day and how his birthday brings out the worst side of everyone.”

Annabeth nodded as Percy went on to explain.

“Pre-Dionysus Day is basically same with the only exception that my great-grandmother’s house is filled with the entire family. Yes, we’re expected to eat, drink, laugh, drink, dance, drink, reminisce on our past, drink, make fools out of ourselves in order for them to take blackmail pictures and drink some more, but no matter how much they want you to open up… try to control yourself. Everything you say can and will be used against you.”

Annabeth’s stomach started to churn, and her knees slightly gave in. “Look, I’m truly sorry for the mess that I’ve caused,” Percy looked directly into her eyes and tried to ignore the rosy streaks across her flushed cheeks. “And my relatives can be overbearing. But if we manage to stick through this night and the next one tomorrow, we’re as good as done with playing games.”

“Fine,” Annabeth gritted through her teeth. She had agreed to the terms and condition. She didn’t need a reminder of the stupid decision she made two months ago.

“Let’s go.”

She placed her hand on the doorknob that separated the parlor from the huge living room. Percy followed her as she opened the door. A wave of laughter, wine, ouzo, discovered secrets, cigarettes, sweat and fun hit them.

“Oh wow, someone should open a window.” Percy suggested as he coughed. Luckily cousin Metis had the same idea. No, aunt Metis. Or was it Thetis? Why did Percy need to have so many relatives with similar names again?

“Oh, Annabeth, look at you!” Aphrodite had snuck up behind them and surprised the fake couple by hugging each of them and nearly spilling the expensive Greek vintage in her hand on Percy’s shirt. The red alcoholic liquid carelessly swirled in her glass and more than often seemed to want to escape from her clutch.

“Aphrodite, be careful!” Percy reminded her as she dug her fingers into his arm. Her nails were as fake and bought as was the bond between Annabeth and Percy.

“Oh, please cousin, you should learn how to loosen up!” She laughed, but it sounded more like the shrill sound a bird made when it got nearly hit by a car. The high pitch made Annabeth slightly frown.

“Take your girl upstairs and show her all the Zorbas moves you got!” She wiggled her badly overdrawn eyebrows.

Aphrodite had always been the poster child of perfection. She knew how to dress her curvaceous body the right way, she knew how to apply the perfect touches of makeup on her face and she was the most graceful being Annabeth had ever met. Seeing her so disheveled left the blonde American content. It showed that Aphrodite wasn’t one of the gods, she was a mortal mess like they all were. That, and it was kind of funny seeing the abrupt transition from oozing perfection to looking like a rough mess after a couple of glasses of wine.

“If you know what I mean, you two know what I mean, right?”

“Yes,” Annabeth and Percy answered. Unfortunately, they did.

“That reminds me, this is such a pretty dress that you got!” Aphrodite’s eyes widened and she tugged at Annabeth’s sleeve that went slightly over her elbows. “Percy needs to bring me a couple of those the next time he visits. Oh wait! You’re about to marry, Annabeth can take me shopping. I want to visit New York next summer. When was your wedding again?”

Panic filled Annabeth she tried to stutter a lame excuse like they had done the entirety of the stay. Aphrodite’s brown eyes found something else to focus on in the meantime. Her hand went out to poke the tall blonde’s chest as she went on to pull on the thin fabric.

“You should show the men what you got! Free the girls!” Aphrodite yelled over the loud music, pushing Annabeth’s C cup to its limits. “Let Percy stand in the corner with that stupid frown, all jealous and depressed while you’re out on the hunt!”

Percy did not look amused especially since he tried to pull Annabeth away.

“Yeah, just like that!” Aphrodite’s glass pointed directly at his face as Annabeth tried to shove Aphrodite’s fickle fingers aside. “Oh, if I were just a little bit younger and not tied to your cousin…”

“You mean cousins,” Percy corrected and made a step backwards as Aphrodite’s dreamy and drunk dazed focus shifted from Annabeth to him.

“Aphrodite, leave Percy and his future wife alone,” Hera arrived to save the stressed couple and rolled her eyes. “Go harass Hephaestus and try to be a faithful wife for once in your life.”

She still looked like she had a massive stick shoved up her ass by the way she stood entirely straight next to them, but Annabeth appreciated the gesture. If Hera didn’t like Aphrodite much, Annabeth would rather join Team Hera than stand alone by the bleachers and under Aphrodite’s charmspeak. Aphrodite pouted and stomped with her feet twice as if she were a toddler and not a grown woman marching towards her forties. Then she stormed off and ran into the arms of her lover, nother husband to spite her mother-in-law and embarrass her even further.

“Malàka,” Hera cursed and lost her cool for one second, before clearing her throat and focusing on the already tired fake engaged couple in front of her. Not even Hera seemed to be averse from drinking a glass of wine or two. “You two definitely need a drink.”

Annabeth agreed with her for once.

She pointed at the bar behind her, which was managed by Dionysus and his wife Ariadne. The number of relatives ganging up on them and demanding new drinks was frightening. Surprisingly Dionysus kept his cool and shoved drinks in people’s hands at an impressive speed.

“Yeah, let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and took Annabeth’s hand again.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked him. She knew from Thalia that Percy rarely ever drank and that his family was to blame for most of it. Percy seemed stiffer and graver than usual as well. As much as she disliked his jokey nature and easy-going demeanor he displayed at work, she’d much rather have that Percy by her side right now. Dionysus Day and the day before seemed like it was hell on earth for him and walking through it each year must take a toll on him.

“Yeah, let’s just each grab a glass of wine. Let them be happy about me shoving this disgusting stuff down my throat.” He thanked Ariadne as she prepared two glasses of the same vintage Aphrodite seemed to have inhaled earlier.

“Thank you.” Annabeth took her glass and sniffed. The wine smelled sickly sweet with a hint of the bitterness that the fermentation process had left. The glass in her hand weighed surprisingly heavy, not because of the wine itself but because of the golden swirls decorating it. The glass transitioned from the crystal-clear transparency into a deep black. A lyre surrounded by a bigger laurel wreath decorated the middle section and a golden snake was wrapped around the stem. The golden rim gave it a nice finish.

“Into a fruitful night,” Percy darkly mumbled over the music. He was really not looking forward to it, which confused Annabeth immensely. She didn’t understand why he pushed himself through this if he really didn’t like the drinking activities. He surely had his reasons, hence her not starting a fight with him over it. It was his family and their tradition after all.

“Into a fruitful night,” Annabeth instead repeated.

Issuing a weird toast as well. Percy Jackson was clearly not a drinker. Their glasses clinked and each of them took a sip. Thankfully grandma Rhea made sure they were well-fed before the festivities began.

“Fuck,” Annabeth muttered. A fine vintage as well. Not as sweet as she thought, it left a hint of sweet cumin as the lingering aftertaste. Her lipstick left a mark on the glass, but she didn’t bother to care as she took another gulp. The wine was nearly finished. She slowly started to understand why ancient civilizations went crazy after this stuff.

As she looked at her so-called fiancé, she saw that his glass was already empty. A grimace rested on his face as well.

“Err, Percy?”

“What?” The dark brooding look on his face was no more.

“Shouldn’t you take it easy?” Annabeth carefully asked. His eyes narrowed.

“I am,” he stated and cocked his head towards his cousin who was still busy playing the barkeeper but kept an overall watchful glimpse on the guests that flooded the gates.

“Dionysus saw me drink. Most importantly he saw us have a drink. That should be enough for me, but if you want some more, be my guest.” He shrugged.

Annabeth felt that she should probably drag his mopey ass out of the party, but it was way too early to leave. “Fine,” she said and asked Ariadne for a refill. Annabeth went in for another long sip. She should definitely stock her wine cabinet once she was back at her shitty apartment. Before the glass reached her lips again, Hermes snatched it away and chugged the remaining wine.

“Hermes, what the hell?!” Ariadne grabbed the glass and pushed her husband’s cousin away. The bored postman was back with his shenanigans.

“My bad, dear wifey, but I’m on a mission here to abduct sweet Annabeth,” Hermes winked and placed his hands around Annabeth’s shoulders.

“What are you up to?” Out of all of the relatives she’s met so far, Annabeth was convinced that everything Zeus had ever sired was a mistake. Zeus himself was a mistake.

“Can you stop being German and boring for once?” he joked. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed. She did not like this one bit. She turned her head around and saw that Percy had been pulled into a conversation by Hypnos and Morpheus. He had completely forgotten about her. Great.

Hermes guided her through the crowd, towards the middle of the room. They had to dodge chairs, drunk relatives, a sofa, chatty relatives, the coffee table and dancing relatives before they made it.

“There she is!” greeted Achilles the confused marketing manager.

Paris, Helen, Patroclus, Hermes and Achilles stood in a circle around a table. Dozens of shots of all sorts of colors were displayed. Annabeth had a terrible feeling about this.

“What is this and why are you pulling me into this?” Annabeth asked and did not like the mischievous grin they all shared. She wanted to go back home and cuddle with Daedalus on her sofa and push his cat ass out of the way before the next steamy Outlander scene hit the screen. Yes, Annabeth was that much of a single that seeing some on-screen action was the best she could get. She hoped that the mangy cat didn’t bother Thalia all too much while she was staying in Greece. She owed her so much already.

“Well, I stayed in your country,” Paris started. “And they have a weird tradition with ouzo. They don’t drink it the way we do, watered down and slowly at lunch and what not…”

Annabeth was still American for the most part and had nothing to do with Germany. The last time she stayed there was nearly thirteen years ago. She didn’t want to have anything to do with Germany. Friedrich Chase lived in Germany. And she fucking hated Friedrich Chase. Therefore, she hated Germany. Things that would never change. Okay, Hamburg was a cool city and she was glad her father moved to Cologne. Should she feel the urge to travel back to Germany for a week or less, she’d go to Hamburg, take ten thousand pictures, and post them on Instagram the minute before she was boarding her flight back to New York. Helping her to enrage her stupid father was all Germany had to offer.

“Germans do ouzo shots,” Patroclus cut to the chase. “And since you’re the newest member of our family…”

“And German!” Paris and Hermes added simultaneously.

“We’ve decided to play this little game,” Achilles added.

“What’s the name of the game?” Annabeth asked. She was only slightly curious. Emphasis on slightly.

“Last man standing. Oh sorry, ladies. Last person standing,” Hermes corrected himself as he placed four shots in front of each person. That was way too much hard liquor to handle. But if she did Jägermeister bombs in her sophomore year of college without any issues, this should be fairly easy.

“What are the rules?” They all looked at her in silence. No rules. No prize. Just drink.

“Oh wow.” The urge to roll her eyes and walk off came back with a force.

“I think I’m going to pass,” Annabeth said and already turned to her right.

“Why?” Helen asked innocently. “Need your man to look after you? The one who’s having an amazing time back there with his third glass of wine?”

Foul game. Annabeth’s head shot to the right. Helen was right. Percy was laughing and looked like he was having a great time chatting with Oceanus and his wife Tethys. Tethys refilled his glass as her husband and Percy broke into laughter once again.

If that’s the case…

“Fuck it, I’m in,” Annabeth agreed. She swallowed the bait and she knew it. There was no reason why she should feel upset about Percy opening up all of a sudden. He desperately needed it. Why she wished to be a part of that, Annabeth did not know.

“Great!” Helen threw her brown mane over her shoulders and grabbed the first glass.

“Για μας!” they all yelled and chugged the liquor. Gia mas, the Greek toast, was repeated every time and it seemed to brighten the mood, despite resting heavily on Annabeth’s stomach. Her college days were over, but she was glad she resisted coughing repeatedly.

Patroclus clutched his stomach after the second shot, Helen ran out after the third, Paris and Achilles were laughing maniacally after the fourth and Hermes mysteriously disappeared after the first one. Annabeth was the last person standing. She placed the crystalized shot glass back on the table and examined the messes around her. The only thing that had happened to her, were that more golden locks escaped from her bun and her lipstick needed some reapplying as she left marks on each glass.

Annabeth tried to take a step away from the table and felt how the world slightly shifted around her. The fact that she would curse and hate herself for her behavior in just six hours, was something drunk Annabeth gladly put aside. The headaches that definitely would haunt her for the rest of the trip didn’t matter, she won and that was all she cared about.

“Hell yeah!” she yelled as all inhibition faded away, leaving pure and raw life force behind. Unbeknownst to her, Annabeth had moved right into the circle of dancers.

“Perseus, get your bride before she breaks her legs!” someone laughed. Was it Iapetus? Or was it Hyperion? Who even cared at that point?

The next two hours were a blurred mess. A blackout slowly crept through her mind, leaving foggy memories behind. Annabeth felt how she was dancing with people and how people were laughing. Were they laughing at her or with her? Did it really matter? Why was her hair repeatedly slapping her face, didn’t she tie it up?

She danced with different people, men and women. She really hoped that the guy that looked like a naked Danny DeVito with longer black hair was not Zeus who had lost his shirt and pants. Who was the guy with the sea-green eyes again? Why was he clapping and laughing whenever she was busting a move next to Hermes? Was he important? Why did he remind her of work? The shots might have been a short-sighted idea after one and a half glasses of wine. She probably overestimated the amount of food she had consumed at dinner prior. Wasn’t she supposed to try someone’s moussaka?

“There you are! Ares, stop dancing with her for once. We’re about to leave.”

Ugh. Ares. Not Zeus, but still yucky.

Sea-green eyes. Percy, of course. How could she have forgotten the asshole that brought her into this whole mess? He seemed fairly sober, didn’t he have a glass or three of wine? Annabeth was certain, she’d be able to drink him under the table. His height and his build might put him at an advantage, but if he wasn’t used to drinking, she might have a fair shot.

A rock song was the next song that appeared. Percy wanted to drag Annabeth off the dance floor.

“Oh no!” Aphrodite intervened with a shrill screech. “Give the two lovers some room to show each other affection!”

Hera actually raised her glass for once to show that she actually agreed with one of Aphrodite’s wild ideas. Someone fumbled with the playlist and a Greek slow jam roared through the old speakers.

“Are you guys fucking serious?” Percy muttered under his breath. But roughly eighty pairs of eyes were all but watching the soon-to-be betrothed and waited for a romantic dance which reminded Percy more of the horrors that the eight-grade dance was.

Annabeth drunkenly hiccupped and looked at him in surprise as she felt one of his hands around her waist and the other one taking her hand. They rocked as if it was the final dance at prom. Annabeth barely remembered prom. Oh right. Her mother had forbidden her from going. She never attended prom.

A casual glimpse through the crowd showed her that people were actually filming this nonsense and some women were actually cooing. Did… did they seriously think this back and forth with sweaty clothes on was romantic? Her eyes found Percy’s again.

“So…” he began.

“So…” she repeated.

“Careful!” he warned her before twirling her through the tight circle. People screamed and applauded. A camera flash blitzed through the darkness twice.

“Oof,” Annabeth groaned. Her stomach and equilibrium did not appreciate that sudden movement.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that again,” Percy swore. The rocking motion made both of them sleepy. Annabeth suppressed a yawn, rested her head on his shoulder. Percy could make the perfect comfy bed, if he wanted to.

Percy, sensing that people were awaiting some action from either of them, placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up. Annabeth’s eyes widened. Is he going to kiss me in front of them? Again? her panicked brain asked. She was turned into stone, not by Percy’s distant cousin Medusa who had eaten most of the truffles, but by the tenderness of his actions. He was one solid actor.

Percy placed a soft kiss on her forehead, before moving on to a temple. Annabeth blushed and buried her heated face in his chest as he released her. Intimate, soft and sweet. The screaming relatives disrupted their comfortable silence yet again. The slow song came to an end and the next upbeat one invited everyone back to the dance floor. Annabeth released herself from Percy’s tight embrace and just bolted. Damned be nausea. A wave of coldness hit her. She felt something she didn’t like the minute Percy had softly kissed and soberness woke her at a start. What was it? Anger? Disappointment? Longing? She didn’t know and she didn’t want to know.

“Annabeth!” Percy shouted, but the amount of people standing in his way made it more difficult for him to keep up with her. His hand brushed over his own lips.

Annabeth opened and closed doors left and right. The kitchen, the dining room, the smoking room. She hasted through the first floor until she found another lost soul in the fireplace room. Why the villa had a fireplace room in the first place, she did not know. It had been super-hot the entire time but what Annabeth understood as heat and what native Greeks deemed as hot temperatures didn’t have to correlate.

Great-grandmother Gaia’s humming faded away. The eldest of the Theodoropoulos looked up from the pair of socks she was knitting. When she came to find out the intruder was Annabeth, joy spread over her face.

“Come, come!” The broken English that she softly spoke reminded Annabeth of her own grandmother. She hadn’t seen Elsbeth Lilienthal-Chase since she had left Germany. And since her mother didn’t give her a chance to say goodbye, she didn’t have a phone number to reach her with. The only way would be through that asshole Friedrich Chase, and the only time she’d willingly let someone contact that man was if she had been six feet under and he would be forced to show up for one important family event for once.

“I was unable to sleep. Parties aren’t something for me. I’m too old and boring for my children and their children,” Gaia sighed as Annabeth took a seat on the green sofa next to the light blue armchair. All of the cushioning seemed to have been made by Gaia as the socks had the same pattern as the pillow that Annabeth leaned against. Balls of wool surrounded the older woman as if she sat on a field of fresh tulips.

“Drink, drink! You need water. I’m pretty sure you danced a lot.”

Annabeth kindly took the offer, grabbed the carafe and poured herself a little bit of water into a small glass. The water was surprisingly cold and refreshing.

“My children deem me crazy,” Gaia continued. “The war with the ottomans. Deportation. Fleeing and seeing death everywhere. Losing my father in the chaos. Then the big world war after that twenty years later. They don’t want to listen to the same stories. They only want to have fun. So, they sent me away.”

Annabeth felt terrible for the old lady. It looked like she had been through hell and back in her youth. She didn’t look like she needed much, only someone to listen to her.

“I won’t bore you much,” promised Gaia.

Gaia’s tanned leathery hands continued working on the little socks. “Don’t worry about tomorrow, dearie. We have plenty of acetaminophen and other hangover remedies. Tomorrow will be even worse, because Dionysus wants to celebrate his birthday with even more wine,” the old woman laughed, and her green eyes twinkled full of life.

“I also was young once…”

The two sat in comfortable silence, only interrupted by Gaia’s humming or Annabeth refilling her glass of water.

“So,” Gaia began.

“So?” repeated Annabeth.

“You are the woman that tamed my little Perseus,” the older woman grinned.

Oh no.

Annabeth had a lump in her throat and drinking water to solve it, didn’t work. She wasn’t just lying to Zeus and his wife. She was lying to an entire clan, from the youngest to the oldest members. What Percy and she were doing wasn’t right, neither was it fair. Sure, Percy’s shitty uncle didn’t help much by forcing him to marry the next person, but did the rest of the family deserve to be deceived as well? No, they didn’t, and that truth rested heavily on Annabeth’s narrow shoulders.

The fact that Gaia looked so much like her great-grandson was crazy. They possessed the exact same shade of sea-green. It was passed onto Rhea, Percy’s grandmother, and then Poseidon, Percy’s fucked up father. Always full of intelligence and calculation. Shifting easily from delighted and full of life to the crashing anger of a storm. Power and knowledge were key features of Gaia’s eyes.

“How did you meet my sweet Perseus again?” Gaia innocently asked but Annabeth knew that there was some sort of ulterior motive behind her question.

“At work,” she honestly answered, and Gaia smiled. The old lady was able to sense the truth.

“He’s not my direct boss, but we run into each other a lot. And we hated each other from the moment we saw each other.” Annabeth remembered how she accidentally spilled her hot coffee all over his shirt. She had been public enemy number one from then on.

“He’s an excellent boss, as much as I hate to admit it. He knows his ways around and is passionate about the ocean and its inhabitants. Definitely more passionate than me, I’m just there for the money. He actually wants to make a difference. And he’s extremely annoying, might I add.”

Gaia burst into laughter and needed a minute to calm down. Annabeth cracked a toothy grin. “Ah yes, I can see how you fell in love with him.”

Doom. Uneasiness. Discomfort. The lump in Annabeth’s throat grew bigger and bigger. Why was her vision so blurry all of a sudden? She looked down at her dress. Dark dots appeared. More sprinkled across her lap as Annabeth realized she was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” Annabeth sniffled. “I… Percy… I…”

Gaia put her knitting utensils aside and set herself upright in the armchair. “Oh no, what is going on, Annabeth?”

The calming hand on her back did not help the young professional at all. No, Gaia’s honesty and curiosity made it way worse.

“Percy and I… we’re not engaged. We did it because Zeus-” Annabeth tried to confess, but Gaia brushed her off.

“It’s okay, Annabeth. I know,” the old woman smiled.

The tears that smeared her foundation or rather what was left of it ceased to fall. “You what?!”

Shock widened Annabeth’s light gray eyes.

“I knew from the minute you stepped into my house. I’m pretty sure Rhea knows as well.”

Annabeth’s jaw fell open. “B-but how?!” she stuttered and felt like an utter and complete idiot. The first few days had been rough and difficult, but now she thought that Percy and she conveyed the illusion of being a happy couple.

“You were scared of everything including him the minute you arrived,” Gaia warmly smiled. The infectious warm smile of a grandma looking out for her little chicks. Was Annabeth now one of them?

“I knew something was off with that sudden engagement of yours with the way you two behaved. Either you were pregnant, or it was a ruse. Since you are heavily drinking and paper thin, it was clear that there was no pregnancy. You young people truly don’t eat enough anymore,” Gaia shrugged, patted Annabeth’s knee and went back to knitting the sock.

“But now… it all makes sense. You do feel something for each other. Even if you are blind to it for now.” She continued to hum. “I just hope that my dear Perseus will be the young and carefree boy he was all those years ago one day again. And I do believe that you are the key in finding him hidden underneath all those layers and walls he had put up due to his father.”

Annabeth didn’t even close her mouth during the elder’s monologue. Did Gaia seriously connote that she… that Annabeth Chase… might feel something for her soon-to-be boss? Madness. Absolute madness. She took everything she had thought of the friendly old woman in front of her back. Maybe her relatives did have a point, when they decided to brush Gaia off due to her old age.

Annabeth? And feeling something for Percy? If that something was hatred and the utmost rage, absolutely yes. But… anything else? She would receive a hefty sum on her bank account and would put in her two weeks the minute she found a better job in California.

“You know… there is a tale I’d like to tell about men.”

And Annabeth would prefer to place the glass back on the table, throw the heels away, storm out and run to the next airport.

“They are stupid vapid creatures,” Gaia carried on.

Annabeth snorted behind her glass. “That is certainly true,” she agreed and earned an honest grin from Gaia.

“My dear husband Ouranos with whom I had all of my dear children decided one day that one woman was not enough. And that twelve children were not enough.”

Twelve children?! Annabeth's womb just twisted and turned in protest. The shocked expression on Annabeth’s face made Gaia chortle loudly.

“Oh yes, back in my day we were all very fruitful,” Gaia affirmed.

“That sounds horrible,” Annabeth interjected.

“Oh, only the birth part and the eighteen years after it,” the older woman dismissed her which made Annabeth in turn laugh again.

“My father was a farmer and he had one piece of advice: never let someone toy with you. You are not a doll; you are a person with morals and dignity, a person with feelings and dignity. Let no one, especially not a man, treat you like a commodity or something to kick around. Well… when dear Ouranos left me and sought our neighbor with bigger breasts… I taught him that lesson. And I did so with my father’s trusted knife that I hung on the wall afterwards.”

There was no knife displayed on the wall. It was a fucking scythe. Large, frightening, brutal. A golden great long sickle with jagged teeth rested on the wall as if it were ready to cut you up into one thousand pieces. Was there really dried blood stuck on the teeth or was Annabeth’s drunken mind making things up?

“The minute our youngest turned eighteen he took off and was never seen again. And now, should a person, in that case my Perseus, not know how to treat you properly, you know what to do,” Gaia advised and took a sip out of her own glass.

“Uh… you mean threaten to cut his genitals off with a large and sharp family heirloom?” Annabeth’s eyes widened again.

“No, dearie…” Gaia gave it some thought. “Well maybe so, dearie,” she then went on. That made Annabeth chuckle again.

“But demand absolute respect from him. Don’t ask him for it. Demand it. I don’t know how but he has dragged you into our family and expects you to play the perfect fiancé. This will eventually blow up in his face and he will drag you along with him. Teach him a lesson, however.”

“You know what? I will!” With Gaia’s official blessing, Annabeth was all smiles and scheming new plots. If the head of the family gave her the approval of kicking Percy’s ass, she definitely would.

Steps echoed in the fireplace room and Annabeth and Gaia’s heads turned to greet the intruder. They didn’t even realize the door opened and closed again.

Gaia’s younger twin who still had some black streaks in the braids marched into the hall, curious about what the two women in front of her were previously talking about. Gaia’s youngest daughter Rhea had joined them. The large blue floral dress made her seem like she never left the late 1960s and the two long braids only added to that sentiment.

“Mamá, what is going on? By the way Percy is looking for you, Annabeth,” Rhea informed her grandson’s alleged fiancé before taking a seat in front of her and grabbing one of the many balls of yarn in front of her mother. Rhea then went on to play with it as if she was a six-year old.

“Oh no, Rhea, Annabeth and I were just chatting about love and life,” Gaia batted her eyelashes.

“You see, I gave Rhea the same advice about her disgraceful husband when he went out to seek another woman.”

Rhea rolled her eyes behind the large pentagonally glasses. “You and your stories about the scythe, mother,” she sighed.

“I have to make sure the younger generation knows!” Gaia huffed. “I won’t be here for much longer and then-”

“We'll regret all the things we’ve said and done to you, I know mamá, you have been telling me this since I was four years old and spilled my apple juice,” Rhea completed her mother’s sentence.

Rhea’s attention shifted to the smiling blonde in front of her. She grew to like Percy’s fiancé. She had a fire within herself and a backbone, all great things to handle a Theodoropoulos man.

“But my mother is right when she says that the scythe is a trusted tool. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades did scare Kronos with it after he tried some foul things with their sisters. Treated them worse. Did overall horrible things. He never wanted daughters, only sons. Didn’t seem to accept the fact that it was out of my hand.” Rhea squished the ball of light blue yarn in her hand.

“My children were always looking out for me and I will be forever grateful for them. I do hope that you will have the same feelings and love for your children.” It was clear who their father was supposed to be.

“Yes, I hope so as well,” Annabeth squeaked. Did it get hotter in here all of a sudden?

The door opened, and a worried Percy stepped into the fireplace room. “Oh, there you are,” he sighed as he immediately sighted Annabeth’s blonde unruly curls. He had been running from the basement all the way to the roof searching for her. Relief washed over his face like some shower gel from a cheap commercial. Only then did he realize that Annabeth had been cornered by both his nosy grandmother and his even nosier great-grandmother.

“Whatever they’ve been telling you, it’s a lie, it’s wrong and it never happened!” he warned her as he took a seat right next to her.

“Oh please, relax,” Rhea rolled her eyes and threw the wool at her grandson. “We have been talking about mamá’s scythe.”

“Hey!” both Percy and Gaia complained. At least they hadn’t dished out embarrassing stories of him taking off in diapers at night.

“This is expensive! You young people show no respect towards others' belongings,” Gaia cursed.

Annabeth took the blue yarn and placed it back on top of the pyramid of other colors.

“Thank you!” Gaia smiled before she focused on finishing the sock.

“You’ve found your fiancé, Perseus. Now go off back to celebrate and let us old people reminisce about the past and talk.” Rhea lazily waved at them whilst Gaia didn’t even look up from her craft.

“We will,” Percy said while getting up and casually dragging Annabeth along. He kissed both Gaia and Rhea on the cheek, Annabeth threw a hasty “See you in the morning!” over her shoulder before the couple left.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked as he pulled Annabeth aside for a small breather.

She nodded. “It’s just a bit overwhelming with the amount of people that either want to take pictures of us, hope I remember when their youngest kid’s birthday is, or they tell me they hope we have our first baby preferably in less than a year.”

Percy blushed. He didn’t think it was that bad, but then again, men are mostly left out of the baby talk until their mother’s saw that their best friend’s children had their first grandbaby. He truly didn’t have any intention of having a child before the age of forty. He had to save a business from his damned uncle, run and manage said business and preferably find a woman he tolerated enough to marry before he could even think of children.

Percy apologized again. “One week,” he promised her.

“One week,” Annabeth repeated and nodded.

“We’re going in, you’ve missed the high of the party with your talk with my yai yai, but that’s perfectly fine. The first have already left, let’s just mingle for ten minutes or so before we can-”

The door flung open. “There they are!” yelled Hermes who was followed by Zephyrus and Hercules.

None of them had any intention of letting the party stop before five in the morning. It was merely two. The minute Hermes had his sights on Annabeth, he knew that he had found his best drinking buddy aside from Dionysus himself. Oh no, Annabeth thought and rightfully so.

The minutes of calmness and rest next to Gaia did their wonders because Percy and she were thrust back into the party at full force. She didn’t exactly remember when the blackout happened, but it was roughly thirty minutes later. She was drinking, she was dancing, she was completely making a fool out of herself. The hair? A mess. Annabeth herself? Don’t even think about it. She had been dancing with Hermes and Patroclus, Aphrodite accidentally stepped on her foot one time when Ares approached her.

Percy broke his own promise and accepted a fourth glass of wine from Dionysus who insisted on it. That glass was his doom. The last droplet touched his tongue and his world turned into a flashy mist, his consciousness was broken into pieces, fragmented and sprinkled across the floor. Where he was, when he was and who he was were things he couldn’t remember. The only thing that popped up in his mind were waves of solid gold. Was it hair? Could hair truly move like that and possess that texture? And a whiff of lemon with a hint of lavender crawled up his nose. It was an odd combination, but it felt safe and like home. He liked this smell. Where did he smell this before?

Percy didn’t care, he had other matters to attend to. The first thing on the docket was finding the bathroom, he had drunk way too much. The house had weird rules in regard to bathrooms. Was it the left side or the right side that the young men could use? Why did his uncle Hades have to break two sinks in a span of a week when he was sixteen again? Why were women and others allowed to do whatever they wanted? His great-grandma and her weird plans were always set to make him fail somehow. Things that she had thought of decades ago still bore fruit today.

Percy stumbled upstairs and turned right and prayed the doors he was opening were empty bathrooms and not relatives making out. That was just what he needed. The first door he opened was of his great-uncle Oceanus and Tethys who had a face mask on her face and pink curlers up her hair. At least the old people still knew how to behave. He hoped his mother had left the party hours ago. He apologized and closed the door. The next one was an empty bedroom, his even maybe. No, his bedroom was on an entirely different floor. Or was it?

The next bedroom was closed off thank god, but from the sounds on the inside it seemed like cousin Eos and her newest catch Orion had some fun. Disgusting, Percy thought before he moved on. The next door was what he was looking for. A bathroom. Lit up, clean and empty. Empty if it wasn’t for this one woman who was clutching the brims of the polished sink. She was tall, the golden hair equaled a rat nest and her red dress seemed to have witnessed a lot.

“Ugh,” she muttered and looked into the mirror. Her eyes found his immediately.

“Percy?” she turned around.

Oh right. He was Percy Jackson, thirty-one, single, hopefully the new CEO of Atlantic INC., he had a fantastic apartment in the Upper East Side with an amazing view and he was in Greece to impress his family with his fake fiancé in order to secure his father’s legacy. His fake fiancé being Annabeth Chase, a woman he loathed, had to pay a little hush money and hoped would leave the company fairly soon after.

“You’re in the men’s restroom,” Percy then stated.

Annabeth looked around. No, it was not the same bathroom she used in the morning. Oh yeah, Gaia’s weird bathroom rules.

“Honestly who cares?” the junior marketing manager complained. “A toilet’s a toilet, no matter who uses it.”

Percy shrugged. Annabeth had a point but it wasn’t their house so they couldn’t dictate the rules.

“I wanted to retouch my makeup, but I didn’t find my makeup bag.” She walked steadily to Percy, but it was clear to both of them that she had her fair amount of shots in her system.

“Yeah, it’s probably in the other bathroom. Wait, let me use the bathroom for a second and then we can head back to our room and you can look for your makeup.”

Annabeth nodded and waited on the outside while Percy was tending his business. After drying his hands, he opened the door and found Annabeth yawning in front of one of his yai yai’s paintings. It showed the scythe from the fireplace.

“In all honesty, your great-grandmother is an amazing woman. I admire her. Showing kindness and strength each day. How old is she?”

“Turning 106 next October,” Percy smiled at her. “She always said she wanted to live long enough to see her favorite descendants find their own happiness, whatever it may be.”

The softness in his voice made Annabeth’s heart ache. She turned her head back to the painting. She was a nobody. She had no family, no traditions she could upkeep. She didn’t even have a steady relationship in the past five years. Fucking Luke Castellan. He also had to take that from her as well. Make her suffer. That’s what Athena, Friedrich and Luke all thought at the same time. And they all had nearly reached their wicked goal if it hadn’t been for her stubbornness and will to eventually blossom into something else. The first step towards that something else resided within her move to California. She wanted to leave everything and everyone behind and start a new life, somewhere where no one knew her.

A thumb brushed over her cheek. Annabeth looked up to Percy. She hadn’t even realized she was sobbing again.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” Percy assured her. His hands found her sides, pulling her into a soft hug.

A true fiancé level hug. Annabeth had never felt that comfortable within a man’s reach. Percy might have been an awful and annoying coworker, but he truly cared about his fellow people. The way they slowly rocked and kept hugging each other reminded her of the school dance work they had put on the floor earlier. But this time it was real. This time there was no one taking pictures or yelling into their ears, or the demand to see a kiss.

Annabeth rested her face in his chest and Percy leaned his head on hers. It was like they had been made for each other. A welcoming scent greeted Percy. Lemon and lavender. The person stuck in Percy’s crumbled mind had been Annabeth. She was his anchor in the havoc his relatives had created in such a short time. He took a deeper breath. It felt reassuring.

“Did you just sniff me?” Annabeth laughed as she pulled away from him.

“You do smell good!” he defended himself with a stupid grin on his mouth.

“Oh, wait you’re super drunk,” she giggled again as she saw his widened pupils that had pushed the darkened sea-green iris away.

“Well, look at you,” he retorted.

They looked at each other. Aside from the bumping music and the noises people made downstairs it had been completely silent. He missed her warmth; she missed his comfort. Neither would have guessed that a simple embrace could offer so much. Neither would have thought they would take it to the next step within a split second.

One last look. A last time sea-green and light-gray met before each set of eyes closed and their lips met with a brutal force in the middle. Their teeth clacked but it didn’t matter to them. What mattered now, was the moment. Forgotten was the alcohol, forgotten were the troubles of past, present and future. Forgotten were the friends and relatives in the building and back in New York.

So... what do you think? 😄 Like I said, this is not the entire chapter 🤷🏾‍♀️ I honestly feel bad for cutting the chapter off because it's really getting more interesting from that point on 💁🏾‍♀️ I'll probably continue working on this once I've published the next act of The Fool 🥳

Also Greek people, if something seems off with this (aside from random English at times lol) hit me up, I definitely have to do more research!

#mel answers #pjo #percy jackson #Annabeth chase #percabeth #percabeth fanfic #may I introduce you to my beloved wife #mel writes #hoo #heroes of olympus #percy and annabeth #pjo fanfic #percy jackson and the olympians #mel spoils

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

IN YOUR MEMORIES

a/n: alright so this was inspired by an amazing fic called Graveyard by @wkemeup if you haven’t read it... WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR??? honestly, i was amazed by the whole idea of having to “pay a price” for a super power and i’ve been really itching to try myself out in this concept, so that’s what this story is. im really excited to share this with you guys so i hope you’ll like it!

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: a hell lot of Bucky’s past pain, a little bit of angst aaand idk im really bad with these warnings

word count: 7.6k

masterlist

“I’ve been trying to figure out an effective way to help him, but it’s been more complicated than I expected. None of my ideas were good enough to even attempt them.” Shuri lets out a frustrated sigh as you stare at the peaceful face of the sleeping man in front of you in the cryo pod. The glass in front of his face is frosty, but you can still make his sharp features out, his chiseled jawline under the stubble, the elegant line of his nose and the thick lashes fanning over his cheeks as his eyes are shut closed.

“His whole mind needs to be rewired, his corrupted memories should be replaced or wiped out so the trigger words wouldn’t work any longer, but I can’t do that on my own.”

Tearing your gaze away from the man you look at her, an apologetic expression adorning her features, because she swore you’d find shelter in Wakanda, a place where you can be just like anyone else and yet, she is now asking you to use your power.

“Do you think he would let me help him?” you ask, glancing back at the man. Bucky, as Shuri called him, doesn’t look as old as he was said to be. A hundred and six years is a lot for a human like him, though he is not as mortal as others on the planet. Shuri told you about the experiments he had to endure through his life and even though you haven’t even touched his mind, you could feel the pain inside you.

“He is desperate to get rid of his dark side, I think he would do anything.”

Reaching up your fingers graze the glass over his face before you plant your whole palm onto it, trying to feel him even under the surface and ice. Eyes shutting close, you take a deep breath as you let your senses open up and find your way to the man.

Because of the cryo pod, you don’t feel him the way you usually do. It’s like he is just an echo in a huge empty room, you can’t make out his whole mind, but he is there. And even with him sleeping under the ice, you still can feel the despair and pain he had to go through as an innocent man. You know he deserves to be saved, he deserves to be freed from his own past and you are his only chance as of right now.

“Wake him up,” you simply tell Shuri before turning around to go back to your room that was assigned to you upon your arrival in the palace.

Bucky doesn’t feel like he has been asleep under the ice for more than just a few hours. It felt like a nap, but in reality he woke up months after the day he closed his eyes.

Shuri welcomed him with the news that the cure has been found and it’s time for him to get rid of the Winter Soldier for once and for all. She didn’t say much about the method, just told him to get ready by the afternoon. He was never one to question the genius young girl so he just obeyed.

After a hot shower he shaved and took the time to get accustomed to the prototype of the vibranium arm Shuri left for him. It’s not the final version, a lot of details need work, but it’s good enough for his everyday life for a while.

The world hasn’t seemed to change since he last saw it. Wakanda is just as flourishing and vibrant as he remembered, a truly spectacular place in his opinion. He wonders how his friends have been, what Steve is doing, if Natasha is alright… Is Tony still fuming after their last encounter? He probably is.

When it’s time, he leaves his room and heads to Shuri’s lab for their meeting. The guards let him in with just a nod, like he is an old friend and he finds Shuri at her computer as always. The girl beams upon seeing him again, complimenting on his freshly shaved look.

“So what did you invent for me, smartpants?” he smiles at her gently. Bucky owes a lot to Shuri and her brother, they took him in when he wasn’t welcomed anywhere else and now she is about to give him his life back. After this, he’ll forever owe her and her family.

“Well, it’s not my invention this time,” she chuckles shaking her head. Bucky is about to question her when the doors open again, both of them turning in the direction just to see you walk in. His eyebrows knit together at the sight of you, not entirely sure what it’s supposed to be. “Mr. Barnes, let me introduce you to Y/N. Y/N, this is Sergeant Barnes.”

You walk closer, Bucky’s icy blue eyes are glued to your form as you stop a few feet away from him, holding out a hand shyly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sergeant James Barnes,” you smile softly as his flesh hand takes yours and shakes it gently.

Bucky is enamored with you instantly. He has never seen someone as delicate, soft and charming as you are, your whole aura just demands his attention and he wants to know everything about you. But he also notices that though you look a lot like any other human on the planet, he is convinced you are not from Earth.

What he doesn’t know is that the moment your hands touch, you can hear his thoughts and you can’t push down your smile at how well he is at inspecting his surroundings.

“Just call me Bucky, please,” he nods before your hands let go of each other and his thoughts quiet down again in your head.

“To answer your suspicion, I’m rorm a planet called Lortena. Life on my planet looks a lot like humans here on Earth, but our lifespan is a little longer and some of us have gifts, as my mother always liked to call them.”

“How did you—“ “How did I know what you thought?” you ask with a small smile, finishing his sentence as he nods in complete awe. “I’m what you might call… a mind reader. But my abilities go a little farther than just reading minds,” you admit and his lips part at the revelation.

Bucky glances over at Shuri, part of him thinking it’s some kind of joke or witchcraft, but the girl smiles back at him with an assuring nod.

“Why don’t we sit down and have a chat? I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” Shuri suggests patting Bucky’s shoulder before the three of you head into her conference room.

Though you’re not touching Bucky, you can sense his confusion and hunger to learn more about you. He is curious about what else you are capable of and though the news about your abilities are still quite odd to him, you can tell that he isn’t trying to shut you out entirely. He just has some reservations for now.

Bucky knows it’s rude to stare, but he can’t stop himself from inspecting you. Knowing that you are not from this planet is already enough for him to get his mind racing, especially because you look just like any other humans on Earth. But the little trick you did on him was enough of a convincing for him to believe that you are from somewhere else.

The three of you sit to the table and Shuri takes the lead to start the conversation.

“While you were asleep, Sergeant, life went on and we had a lot going on,” she smiles, her eyes falling on you. “Y/N is a refugee from her planet, Lortena. There’s a war going on there and she was sent away because she was a primary target. She wasn’t supposed to end up here, but there was a little mishap during her journey and landed in Wakanda.”

“Are you targeted because of your… powers?” Bucky asks, hoping he is not asking anything offensive.

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s because I’m the king’s daughter.”

“Oh!” he breathes out.

Great, so she is not only a breathtakingly beautiful creature with superpowers, but she is royal as well, he thinks to himself.

“And how… where do your… powers come from? Is that a usual thing on your planet?”

“Not quite,” you chuckle softly.

You give a glance at Shuri who nods and brings up a hologram of Loki’s scepter with the mind stone in it. Bucky is already familiar with them, but he is curiously listening to find out what it has to do with you.

“Long before the mind stone was trapped into the scepter, it was in our possession. We used it as out main power source, kept locked away from preying eyes and hands. We all knew it’s capable of more than what we use it for, but we didn’t want to risk it and use it for the wrong purposes.”

The hologram changes and now the mind stone is on display on its own.

“But not everyone agreed with that. A couple hundred years ago there was a war for the stone. Though our people sacrificed everything to protect it, they didn’t succeed entirely. Unfortunately, the attackers didn’t know how great the stone’s power is. In the midst of the chaos, there was an explosion caused by the stone. Almost everyone present was killed, only seven survived and they were blessed with different powers coming from the stone.”

Bucky’s lips part as his eyes flicker over to you from the stone in the middle of the table, while you are staring at the hologram remembering back the stories your parents told you growing up. He feels like he is being shared with an ancient legend, a piece of history that is a privilege to know.

“The powers they were gifted with were held at great heights after the war was over. And while some of them could pass it on to their children, some couldn’t. The seven became four, then just two and there was one left. My grandmother. When my father didn’t show any signs of the stone’s power it was believed the magic was gone forever, but then I was born and…”

“And you had the powers,” Bucky chimes in, completely in awe of your origin story. You nod with a shy smile as the hologram of the stone disappears in the middle of the table.

“Yes.”

“And why is there a war on your planet right now?”

“Because though it’s been a miracle that I inherited my grandmother’s powers, the people want to get the stone back and have more of its powers. Unfortunately, the stone was lost through the years and I was informed that Thanos got a hold of it some time ago,” you explain, turning to Shuri for assurance about the accuracy of your words and she nods. “Who then gave it to Loki and now it’s in the scepter. People were demanding my father to start a war for the stone to get it back to Lortena, but he refused to sacrifice his army to get the stone back from a titan.” Sighing you lean back in your seat as you think about your home, your family that was left behind when your father sent you away because he was afraid the rebels would use you to get to him.

“The stone is not at Thanos’ any longer,” Bucky speaks up and your eyes find him as you snap out of your thoughts.

“I was informed of that as well. It’s um… it’s Vision’s now, right?” They both nod. “Well, the rebels think it’s Thanos’ and you better hope it stays that way. Because if they figure out that the titan doesn’t have it any longer, they won’t hesitate to attack you for the stone.”

Bucky’s jaw clenches at the thought of another war to take part in, but also because you had to go through such terrible events because of other’s greediness.

“I’ve been trying to find a solution to help you since you’ve gone to sleep, but I wasn’t able to come up with any,” Shuri speaks up. “But then Y/N arrived and I think she could be the one to do the job.”

“You think you can do that?” Bucky asks, eyebrows pulled together. “What else can you do, other than reading minds?”

You feel hesitant revealing the depths you’re able to reach with your abilities and you’re afraid he would find it too invading after everything he has been through. You want to help him but he has to let you. Though you’re powerful, if someone resists your attempts, the outcome won’t be the same as if they cooperated.

“If you let me… I can change your memories. I can make them appear differently in your head so what they did to you won’t have an effect on you any longer.”

Bucky’s jaw twitches. He has no idea what he was expecting, but not this for sure. Letting another person get into his head, play with his mind like it’s just a toy, it’s something he vowed not to let anyone do it again. But as he stares back at you, he can tell the difference between you and the monsters who ruined his head before. He is at a safe place and everyone here wants what’s good for him.

“It only works if you let me do it,” you add and notice how he presses his lips together into a thin line.

“I would do anything to get rid of him. So… I’m in,” he nods at last and you let out a relieved sigh.

You’ve never tried to corrupt so much of someone’s memories before and you’re not sure how long it will take to complete the task so you requested to start the next day, giving you some time to get ready physically and mentally and of course, for Bucky to get himself ready for his mind to yet again get taken apart by someone else.

Not having much to really do since your arrival other than helping Shuri out occasionally at the lab or giving assistance for T’Challa around the palace, you’ve been able to explore your temporary home in the heart of Wakanda.

There is a hidden terrace near your room, one that’s not well-known even by the people living in the palace and you like the peace and calm whenever you are out there, surrounded by flowers and plants in hand-painted pots, some of them were made by yourself, watching over the breathtaking view of Wakanda in front of you, the sky turning from bright blue to shades of orange, pink, purple and eventually black as the Sun goes down behind the hills.

Tonight, this is where you are seeking peace again, sorting your thoughts out about what you’ll have to face tomorrow. Your power has a lot of benefits but it has its curses as well. You’ve only attempted to do something similar before and you had to learn the hard way what price you have to pay for having control over someone else’s mind, thoughts and memories.

Your brother was tragically killed in an uprising when he was only seventeen and you were ten. It was the result of a series of unfortunate event, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time, no one could help him. Your mother broke under the pain of losing her own child and you listened to her cries every and each night for months before you decided that you needed to help her. She didn’t want to let you even try, afraid it might take too much of you to help her, but you insisted and she eventually gave in. You altered her memories and feelings about your brother’s death, only left her with the ones that bring her joy and happiness, but your gesture demanded a price you weren’t ready to pay.

Upon your own grief for your brother, you had to bear your mother’s as well, the pain of two people clutching your heart and mind in return for your mother’s happiness. You never told her how you cried yourself to sleep every night for an entire year, how you could barely control your dark flashbacks and the constant darkness that was pulling you down. No one knew what you had to go through just to see your mother smile again and you made sure it stayed that way. However, you didn’t dare to do it again, not entirely sure if you could handle the pain one more time.

You surprised yourself when you offered your help to Bucky. You don’t even know him, yet you are willing to take his pain and make it yours just so he can live a somewhat normal life. Though his memories and nightmares won’t torture you as long as they would have did with him, you’ll still have to fight his demons and he won’t even know it. Then why are you doing this?

You have no answer to that. Seeing him for the first time you just had a feeling that you have to do it, that he is worthy of it all and that you want to be the person to free him.

The glass door opens behind you as you’re watching the Sun disappear on the horizon and you’re surprised to see Bucky walk out to the terrace, stopping in his tracks once he notices you sitting on one of the wooden chairs.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be here,” he mumbles, his gaze snapping down at the floor.

“That’s what I thought too,” you chuckle.

“I’ll leave you—“ he starts, ready to leave, but you stop him.

“You don’t have to. Feel free to join,” you tell him, gesturing towards the other chair. His hesitation is clear at first, but then he closes the door behind him and sits beside you.

Bucky watches the sunset in awe, but he can’t shake his curiosity towards you, having to control himself not to stare at you as he tries to figure you out. You’re not the only one who doesn’t understand why you’re doing this major gesture for him, he’s spent the afternoon trying to find any alternative motives that might explain your willingness to help him. He couldn’t find any and it left him with even more puzzles in his tortured head.

“What is it like on your planet?” he finds himself asking, breaking the long silence between the two of you.

“It’s not too different than here,” you admit truthfully. “Though our technology is a little more advanced,” you add with a soft chuckle. “In a way I’m happy I ended up here, because Wakanda reminds me of my home.”

“You miss it, don’t you? Your home?”

“Who doesn’t?” you ask with a soft smile and Bucky nods. He misses his home too, but in his case, it’s not a place but a time, decades ago, when he was his true self instead of the monster Hydra forced him to become.

“I’m sure it’ll be nice to return once the war is over,” he hums to himself and he expects a warm and positive reaction from you, however all he sees is pain and sadness in your eyes. “What is it?”

You hesitate to share it with him, staring back at him you think about keeping your thoughts to yourself, but how could you expect him to let you get into his head if you don’t share your thoughts with him willingly?

“Bucky, I don’t think I’ll ever return to my planet,” you breathe out as your gaze moves back to the scenery in front of you, the burning disk of the sun already hidden behind the hills.

“What do you mean?”

“The ship I came with can’t be fixed and they don’t know that I ended up here. It would take them too long to find me here and that’s if… If my family will be alive by then. I have no idea what’s happening there right now, if the rebels are winning or my father is able to keep things under control. I see very little likelihood of my return.”

Bucky’s heart aches for you, knowing well the pain you feel, he finds it ironic how the both of you are stuck so far away from your homes, seeking shelter at the same place at the same time.

He thinks it’s fate.

“What’s your favorite memory from your home?” he asks and you turn to him with soft and shining eyes. He is expecting you to tell him about it, but instead you decide to show it.

Grabbing his hand that’s closer to you, you bring it up to your face and make him cup the side of your head, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone as you close your eyes and recall the memory, planting into his head as well, taking him back, like the two of you could travel time and space just that easily.

Bucky can barely believe what he is experiencing but he finds himself inside your memory and it all seems so real, as if it was happening in the moment. He is standing in the middle of a meadow filled with luscious, green grass and some kind of flowers, whites and purples and yellows dancing in the soft breeze. At first he thinks he is alone, he doesn’t see you anywhere around him and then he spots a woman in a long, light pink dress, her hair waving behind her in the gentle summer breeze and then he spots a little girl running behind her.

Bucky walks closer to the woman, but she doesn’t acknowledge his presence, she doesn’t even look his way and when he reaches out to touch her arm, his hand goes right through her figure, as if she was just a ghost.

The little girl finally catches up with the woman, a handful of flowers in her hands and when looks up Bucky realizes that it’s you as a child. Your main features can still be found behind the round cheeks and pouty lips.

“Mom! I picked these for you!” your younger self beams, holding the little bouquet of flowers up to your mother, who takes it with a bright smile.

“So beautiful, my love!” she hums, sniffing the flowers as you giggle at her. “But why don’t we use them for something?”

“For what?” you ask with a curious look and Bucky can’t help the smile on his face. It’s such a pure and joyful memory, he almost wishes it was his.

Your mother sits down in the grass, her skirt fanning over her in a circle as she pulls you down to her lap with your back facing her before she combs her fingers gently through your hair and starts braiding it, sticking the little flowers into the braid as she moves down. You start singing some kind of song, one Bucky doesn’t know, and your mother smiles brightly at your chiming voice. She braids with so much care and precision, at the end it looks perfect and very much princess-like with the flowers littering around.

“There. Now you are a bouquet of flowers yourself, my love” she smiles at you, kissing your cheek before letting you out of her arms, watching you dance around in your dress, singing to yourself without a care in the world.

Bucky wants to stay there, more than anything and see more of your younger version and your mother, but he is abruptly pulled back into reality when you pull his hand back from your face and the connection stops. His eyes snap open and they find yours, so enamored and in awe of what he just experienced, he feels like he was let in on a secret no one else knows in the world.

“Wow. That was… amazing,” he breathes out as his hand drops back to his lap while you just smile back at him shyly. “Is that… Is that what it’s gonna be like when you…?”

“Not quite,” you shake your head. “You won’t feel anything, you’ll just have to think back to all the memories you want to be changed or wiped. I’ll be the one stuck in your memories like you were in mine. And from inside, I’ll be able to change them.”

“Will I know later which ones were altered or they won’t be different at all?”

“There’ll be… a kind of shine to them when you’ll think of them after that. It’s gonna be the only tell that they were touched by me. But I won’t change anything you don’t give your consent to.”

Bucky nods, having answered his biggest concerns about tomorrow. Now he feels like he trusts you completely and you’ll be the first person he can open his mind up to without a worry.

No matter how much you tried to get yourself ready for what you’d see in Bucky’s head, nothing could have prepared to the pain and darkness he had to endure during his oddly long human life. All the torture, the blood, the hurt and fear of death, it all comes down crashing on you even after the first session you have with him.

It breaks your heart that such a sweet soul had to go through Hell innocently and now he has to live with everything he was forced to do against his will. You can only hope that the people who did this to him have gotten their rightful punishment.

The first time the two of you sit down to start his treatment you get stuck in his head for hours, going through memories and altering them to take away anything that is connected to the trigger words. You witness the time he was captured and the first time he was sat into the chair that broke him. You can’t help the tears rolling down your face as you use all your power to change the memory and leave him with just a faded picture of his cell and held captive. Bucky asked you not to wipe them entirely, leave him with reminders of what made you be the way he is today and that’s exactly what you do.

When you finally come back you almost faint from exhaustion, Shuri catches you right in time before you could fall off the chair in front of Bucky’s who is equally dizzy, but he still manages to reach out and grab your hand to help you steady yourself. You feel drained and almost tortured, Bucky’s memories imprinting into your own head and you already know they will haunt you for quite some time. Not as long as your mother’s grief did, you were just a child back then and you couldn’t control your power that well, but even though you’ve learned to use your abilities, it will still take a couple of months for you to get rid of the horrors you saw in Bucky’s head.

Bucky sees how broken you look after just the first session and he doesn’t want to believe you’ll be strong enough to finish what you started.

“It’s fine,” you assure him when he asks you again in the evening if you surely want to continue. “I just have to rest and we can go on,” you tell him, giving his arm a squeeze before returning to your room.

That night, you wake from a burning nightmare with a scream, gripping onto the sheets with terror running through your veins. In your dream, you were the one strapped to that chair, going through all the pain Bucky had to bear decades ago. It was vivid and torturous and you know it’s going to return.

But you’re determined to finish the work and you do it over and over again, every day for the next couple of weeks. You go through all of Bucky’s darkest memories, altering and changing them until there’s nothing left from the Winter Soldier in him, just some faint and blurry pictures of him being held by his captors. You take all the pain and let it sink its claws into your own head, clouding your mind with darkness.

Bucky can feel the change in himself instantly after the first time you get into his head and a few days later he sleeps through the night for the first time in forever, oblivious to the fact that not far away from his room, you are fighting his demons every night so he can have his peace.

He is always the one to help you back into your room after an exhausting session and he wakes you up with breakfast in the mornings, always making your favorite. You tell him it’s not necessary, but he insists that this is the least he can do for everything you are doing for him, and he doesn’t even know the worst things you endure for his happiness.

He is always the one to request days off from the treatment, not for himself, but for you. He sees how trying it is and though you would never ask for time off, you don’t have to, because Bucky does it for you. Every third or fourth day he tells you he needs some time to heal and get used to his new mindset, but he just wants you to rest and recharge and though you know it too, you appreciate the gesture.

Some days he asks you to join him for walks just to get you out of the palace and you gladly say yes, desperately needing something to bring the light back into your life and it doesn’t take long to realize that Bucky is that light that can ease the heaviness of the pain you are fighting.

You love seeing his smile as the first thing in the morning, you love how he squeezes your hands every time before you dive into his head and how insists to carrying you to your room even when you’re perfectly capable of walking on your own. You love how chivalrous he is always, something Shuri told you was more common in the times he was born and you adore it that it’s a piece of his past self still present after everything he’s been through.

Bucky is the only one who can pull you out of the dark hole you’ve been stuck in and you promised yourself that you’ll never tell him the price you had to pay for his happiness, because he deserves every ounce of it and you wouldn’t want anything to cloud over it, not even your misery.

It takes five entire weeks to go through everything that turned him into the Winter Soldier and then the day to test if it has worked finally comes. Shuri has made sure to have a capsule ready for the test, one that would keep him under control in case you didn’t succeed and he would be triggered by the words he already knows too well.

“Are you sure I won’t hurt anyone?” Bucky asked cautiously as he was strapped into the capsule, a good majority of the Dora Milaje guarding the lab as well in case the test goes wrong, but both you and Shuri are optimistic about it.

“Calm down, Sergeant. We can handle you,” Shuri jokes before finishing up. “Alright, I’m gonna close this now, but you’ll be able to hear us and we’ll hear you as well,” she informs him and he just nods as she closes the capsule, securing him inside.

You sit on the side, but still close enough to see his face in the capsule. His icy blue stare finds yours and you give him a soft, encouraging smile. You do believe he won’t be triggered and not just because of what you did, but because he has a strong will and if there’s still any part of the Winter Soldier in him, he’ll be able to come over it.

“Okay, ready for the words?” Shuri asks him and breathing out he nods, closing his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

“Желание,” comes the first word through a speaker and you hold your breath as you stare at his face through the capsule.

“Ржавый. Семнадцать,” the words carry on and you see him squeeze his eyes a little, fear taking over you that he might break, but it never happens. “Рассвет. Печь. Девять. Добросердечный…”

The trigger words ends and your lips part when his eyes open, noticing the tears in them as he finally realizes that he didn’t turn. The Winter Soldier is finally gone.

“Congratulations, Sergeant. You’re free,” Shuri announces as she opens the capsule and lets him out, sobs shaking from his chest before he is freed from the straps and able to step out of the capsule.

He is quick to rush over to you and wrap you in his embrace, both of you sobbing and crying and you hold onto him tight, as if he was just a memory that could vanish any moment, but he is there, flesh and metal, the Bucky you know and adore so much.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he keeps repeating as his vibranium fingers tangle into your hair at the back of your head.

It’s been over a week of freedom for Bucky and he hasn’t felt better in his life, well, not in this decade. Without the sessions, he now has quite some free time on his hands that he prefers to spend with you, actually.

The two of you have been joined at the hips since his recovery and not just because Bucky feels like he owes his life to you, but because you both can’t help falling for the other in the light of your newly found friendship that’s starting to slowly turn into more.

Bucky hasn’t been shy about showing his adoration and gratitude towards you, not after you’ve seen the darkest side of him and could still look at him the same way. He feels like he has bared his entire soul to you and you accepted it gladly, so there’s no need to beat around the bushes.

However you’ve been still trying to keep him away from the secret you’re hiding. He can’t find out about the nightmares, the screams and the tears you shed every night when his demons come for you. You can’t let him get close enough to see the price you paid for his own happiness. But even with all the cautions you’ve been keeping, you still can’t stop fate from finding its way.

One night Bucky is staying up late, binge watching a series Shuri has recommended for him. He didn’t intend to stay up so late, but before he could realize how fast the time has passed, it was already past two in the morning.

Shutting the laptop down he decides to get himself some water before finally going to sleep. Padding his way down the dark and quiet hallways in only a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, he unintentionally takes the route that goes past your room. He didn’t plan on dropping by, knowing you’re probably asleep by now, just wanted to feel that sense of closeness even in the middle of the night, but his original plans immediately change when he hears your deafening scream coming from the other side of the door.

His blood freezes in his veins and he is quick to turn into combat mode, ready to fight whatever is threatening your life, but as he pushes his way into your room he doesn’t find any intruder, it’s just you, curled up on your bed and even under the thick layer of covers, he can see how badly you’re shaking, your beautiful face churned into a painful frown as you keep your eyes shut.

He immediately realizes that you’re having a nightmare.

He rushes over to the bed and sits to the edge, the mattress dipping underneath his weight as he carefully places a hand to your trembling shoulder.

“Y/N! Y/N, wake up!” he softly shakes you, trying to get you back to consciousness, but you keep tossing and whimpering, a thin layer of sweat covering your skin.

“No, no, please! I’m not the Winter Soldier!” you cry out and Bucky freezes, his jaw clenching at your words, an eerie feeling running down his spine.

“Y/N, it’s just a dream, wake up!” he tries again and your eyes finally shoot open.

Though you’ve woken up, you don’t instantly see what’s really happening around you and you are quick to flinch away from Bucky, pushing yourself to the far end of the bed as you stare back at him with fearful, wide eyes.

“It’s just me. It’s alright, it’s me, Bucky,” he softly reminds you holding his hands up so you can see them. Your chest is heaving and your hands are gripping the sheets so tight, your knuckles are turning white.

“Bucky,” you breathe out and he nods.

“Yeah, it’s me. You had a bad dream, I heard you scream.”

Letting out a shaky breath you close your eyes and try to shake the vivid images that haunted you tonight out of your head, with not much success. Tonight you were beaten up in a cold and dark cell, the man kept telling you that you’re just a monster, a soulless nobody as he kept hitting you before he reached for a weapon that sent electricity through your body until it was too numb to move at your will.

You know it was one of his memories, because you’ve seen this scene before in his head and you remembered it clearly. Only that last time you saw it happen to him and now you were the victim.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, loosening your muscles as you gain your contact back with reality.

“What was the nightmare about?” he quietly asks and your gaze snaps up to meet his. You can’t read his icy blue eyes and for a moment you think about touching him so you could hear his thoughts, but you promised yourself you would never use your powers on him.

“Just… some nonsense stuff,” you lie shaking your head.

“Didn’t sound like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you beg to someone, telling them that you’re not the Winter Soldier.”

His face hardens as he inspects you while you try your best to hide anything that would tell him more about what you’ve been keeping from him.

“I don’t… I don’t remember it,” you shrug, scooting closer to him as you fix your pillows.

“Y/N, I don’t need superpowers to know that you’re lying,” he retorts and you almost flinch at his words. “Are you having nightmares because of what you saw… in my head?”

For a split second you think about lying. You think about telling him that it’s just because of what you saw and not tell him the real reason of your nightmares, but guilt has been already eating you away for not telling him and you wouldn’t be able to lie straight into his face. So you shake your head and your eyes meet his icy gaze again.

“I’m having… your nightmares.”

He looks confused, eyebrows knitted together as he is tasting your words, not entirely sure about what you meant by them, so you go into the details you’ve been keeping hidden from him.

“I can’t just take memories away and turn them into nothing, Bucky. Memories can only vanish if they get forgotten with time,” you start explaining, hoping you can paint the picture as realistic as possible. “When I changed your memories, I took parts away and… made them mine. And now I have to be the one to fight and forget them, but it happens faster for me than it would have happened to you,” you quickly add, as if it could make it any better.

“Why didn’t you tell me this is the cost of my recovery?” he snaps, clearly mad at you and he has every right, but you just wanted to save him. “I would have never let you do it if it meant you’d be the one to suffer for me, Y/N!”

“I had the chance to help you, I wanted to give you the freedom you deserve!” Tears are stinging your eyes as you stare at his harsh expression, the soft and joyful Bucky you’ve seen these past weeks is now gone.

“But it’s not worth it if you are being tortured by my memories now!”

“It was worth to me!” you snap back, a tear rolling down you cheek. “I might have been selfish for keeping you the details of what it would take to free you, but now you are the one who is being selfish, because you wouldn’t have let me help you if you knew and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you! I chose to do it and I knew what I was getting myself into and I knew what it’s gonna cost.” More and more tears run down your heated cheeks, soaking your skin before they drop to your shirt or the sheets covering your lower half. Bucky stares back at you in disbelief as you reason about why you did it exactly. “You deserved this second chance and I was your only chance. If I didn’t do it for you, I would have had to live with the guilt forever that I let an innocent man suffer. It’s a small price for the happiness I was able to give you.”

Bucky is in total shock. He has had Steve do selfless shit for him plenty of times, hell, he wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him, but what you did is just above everything that’s been ever done for him and he is having a hard time accepting that anyone would put up with so much pain and suffering for him willingly. He can’t decide if he wants to scream and shout at you for being so stupid or if he wants to fall to his knees and glorify your name till the end of times.

When you realize that he won’t snap at you again, you carefully scoot closer until you can reach out and touch his face, but you don’t even try to read his thoughts. Not this time. You let his thoughts wrapped in the darkness of the unknown. Bucky melts against your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a few moments.

“You shouldn’t have done this, Y/N.”

“But I did,” you breathe out with a bitter chuckle. “And it can’t be undone, so you better accept it.”

He cracks a tiny smile, but it quickly vanishes as a thought pops into his head.

“If you have the memories that made me into the Winter Soldier, how come you don’t get triggered by the words?”

“I might own your memories now, but there’s a natural bond with the original owner that can’t be taken. It’s what makes them so vivid and real for you, but it will never be as real to me. The trigger words have no power over me, because the memories are not mine, I don’t have the bond with them.”

“But you still have the nightmares. My nightmares,” he breathes out, a hint of disappointment ringing through his tone, though you’re not sure if it’s because of what you did or because he couldn’t stop you from it.

“They will go away,” you assure him, but you can tell that his guilt is eating him away. “Bucky, I’ll be fine. A few weeks, at max a month and they will be gone. I promise you.”

“You don’t deserve this,” he mumbles under his breath as his hand reaches for yours, squeezing it gently before he brings it to his lips and kisses your knuckles softly. “You don’t deserve any of it.”

“But you deserve happiness,” you reply with a chaste smile that makes his heart flutter in his chest. “Let me give it to you. You’ve had enough pain, Bucky. I’ll take the rest now.”

Bucky stares back at you for a long second before he decides to do whatever he can to make sure you get through it as easily as possible. Pulling the covers back he slides under them, lying down next to you as he pulls you into his embrace.

“Go back to sleep and if you’ll have another nightmare, I’ll be here to wake you up from it and get your mind off of it. You’re safe with me,” he murmurs, as you lay your head to his hard chest, his flesh arm curling around your frame while his vibranium fingers lace together with yours on his stomach. You don’t try to protest against him, you know he won’t leave and quite frankly, you don’t want him to. Knowing that if you go back to the darkness again he’ll be here to pull you out relaxes you, doesn’t let you worry about what kind of horrific scene you are going to be forced to see when you close your eyes next. You melt against him, inhaling his scent, listening to his steady heartbeat under your head as you let yourself go back to sleep, for the first time, ready to face whatever is waiting for you on the other side.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan one shot

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intheticklecloset · 3 years

Text

My Hero Academia Sentence Starters #51-60

A collection of the MHA sentence starters I’ve done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories.

~~~

51) Lee Deku, Ler Shinsou

“I wonder where raspberries are the worst for you?”

Deku whimpered, squirming under Shinsou’s hold but not enough for it to really be considered trying to get away. “I-I don’t know…” he admitted, flushing bright pink. “Why don’t you find out?”

Shinsou chuckled lowly. “With pleasure.”

He raspberried Deku’s ribs, his sides, his belly, even his hips. All of it made the poor boy scream and laugh and plead, though it was obvious he was having just as much fun as his boyfriend was.

His screaming turned to shrieking, however, when Shinsou switched from raspberries to nibbles along his hips and waistline. Deku bucked and thrashed, laughter bursting from him before he even realized it himself. He barely had enough breath to beg for mercy. “NONONO!! NOHOHOHOT – NOT THAHAHAHAHA – SHIHIHIHIHINSOHOHAHAHAHA!!”

“Hmm, nibbles really tickle, huh?” Shinsou teased, but he let up and allowed Deku to breathe. “I want to try one more spot. Okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” Deku giggled, unable to take his eyes from Shinsou’s. “Go for it.”

Shinsou leaned down to nuzzle under his ear, then pressed his lips to his neck and blew another raspberry.

“EEEEK!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Deku laughed, bucking his hips again, digging his heels into the bedsheets. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

“Oh, I see~” Shinsou teased into his ear. “So that’s where raspberries really get to you, huh?”

“Sh-Shinsou,” Deku said breathlessly, lungs gasping for breath. “Toshi, please…”

Shinsou tightened his grip on Deku’s arms. “Just one more. But don’t worry – I’ll make it count.”

52) Lee Bakugou, Lers Kirishima and Uraraka

“You know, you’re a lot cuter than you realize.”

The words were spoken so casually, it threw Bakugou entirely off his game. He blinked. “What?”

Kiri and Uraraka exchanged smiles, turning their loving gazes back down to their boyfriend, who lay on the bed with his arms pinned above his head. He’d been bracing himself for something a little – well, rough – but now they were telling him he was cute? Bakugou was beyond unprepared for that.

“She’s right,” Kiri agreed, nodding, using a single finger to trace down his exposed frame from his underarm to his hip. “I certainly think you’ve got a cute belly.” That finger started tracing circles around his belly button. “Don’t you agree, Ochaco?”

“Definitely.” Uraraka beamed when Bakugou started letting out little huffs of air, squirming beneath them both. “But you know, his laugh is the cutest~”

“No,” Bakugou pleaded, smiling wide despite himself. “Plehehease, don’t…”

Kiri dipped his finger into the blonde’s belly button. “Aw, but you love it, Katsuki~”

“Nohohohohoho!”

“Yes, you do~” Uraraka teased, leaning down to kiss his neck and ears, making him flush a dark red at the double dose of tickly, teasy attention. He’d never admit it, but it made him incredibly flustered and he could never get enough of it. “You love it when we tickle you and tease you, baby~”

“Dohohohohon’t call me thahahat.” He tried to snap at her, but it came out as more of a pleading whine, and her return smirk nearly melted him right then and there. “Plehehehease…”

“Oh, Kiri,” Uraraka hummed, looking at the redhead with a sweet smile. “I think he wants tickles, don’t you?”

Bakugou flushed even deeper.

“I think so, too.” Kiri beamed, leaving the blonde’s belly button to scratch at his ribs. “Do you think we should indulge him?”

Bakugou squirmed beneath them both, already giggling quietly. “Guys…”

Uraraka joined in, tickling his ribs on the other side, and their boyfriend finally gave up the fight and let out a string of happy laughter, showing his teeth in a bright smile. “Yes. Let’s indulge our adorable little blasty boy~”

53) Lee Amajiki, Ler Mirio

“Laugh for me! I know you have it in you~” Mirio teased, easily pinning Amajiki’s arms above his head and digging a single finger into the boy’s side.

Amajiki was smiling so wide it almost hurt, but he wasn’t laughing – yet. Despite himself he was desperately trying to remain in control for as long as possible. He knew his blonde friend would break him eventually, and when he did, he’d be happy to crumble. But the fight was part of the fun of surrender, so he clamped his mouth shut and shook his head defiantly.

Mirio sighed playfully. “Don’t make me make it worse.”

Amajiki whimpered, but internally he was cheering. Yes, yes, make it worse! Make me laugh!

“All right, you asked for it.” The blonde straddled his knees and dug his thumb into the meat of his friend’s thigh, and that was it. The dam burst.

Amajiki laughed.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” He shrieked, letting himself give in at last, squealing and squirming and laughing to his heart’s content. All the while Mirio grinned down at him, still pinning him in place, forcing him to take it. “AHAHAHAHAHAHA!! MIHIHIHIRIO!!”

“Yes?~” Mirio hummed, letting his arms go to tickle both thighs at once, laughing with him when he screamed with hysterics. “Feeling better now?”

“YEHEHEHEHEHEHES!! GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

“Should I keep going?”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

Mirio beamed. He loved that he was able to make his friend so happy with something so simple. Not to mention, it was good to hear Amajiki let loose and laugh for once. “Then you don’t have to tell me twice!”

54) Lee Deku, Lers Bakugou and Shinsou

“Oh yeah? I bet I know how to tickle him better than you do.”

Shinsou snapped his eyes to Bakugou, glaring at him. “I dare you to say that again.”

“Please. I’ve known that nerd since childhood. You’ve been dating for what – six months? Give me a break. I can make him laugh harder, mark my words.”

“It’s not about making him laugh hard, it’s about making him desperate for it to stop. Light tickles are effective in that regard, too.”

“Uh…g-guys?” Deku stammered, looking between them nervously. “You’re both good at tickling me…”

“There’s only one way to settle this,” Bakugou growled.

Shinsou nodded. “I agree.”

Suddenly Deku was pinned on his back on the floor, his childhood best friend at his right and his current boyfriend on his left. Both of them wore matching menacing, challenging smirks.

“May the best man win,” Shinsou said.

“I intend to,” Bakugou retorted.

Then both of them were tickling Deku – four hands of twenty fingers drilling all over from his underarms to his sides, hips, knees, and everywhere else they could reach, drawing giggle after squeal after loud, screaming plea from him as he squirmed and thrashed but went absolutely nowhere.

At first it was a total blast, having both of them tickle him together. But even he had his limits, and within a few minutes his pleading became genuine.

“STAHAHAHAHAP!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE, I CAHAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAKE ANY MOHOHOHOHOHORE!!”

“Who’s better?” Bakugou demanded.

“BOHOHOHOHOHOTH OF YOU!!”

“That’s not good enough,” Shinsou replied, smiling. Truly, he didn’t care if Bakugou was better than him. If anything, it motivated him to find all the little ways to make Deku completely helpless to his tickling in the future. “Pick one.”

Deku laughed and laughed and laughed, but he knew he couldn’t make a choice. Either way he’d hurt someone’s feelings – or even make them angry – and that was the last thing he wanted. So it looked like he was going to have to hold out a while longer…

55) Lee Deku, Ler Todoroki

“Oh, yeah, raspberries are a killer right here, huh?” Todoroki murmured, blowing another one on Deku’s hip bone, making his poor boyfriend screech with laughter. “Hmm~ Tickle, tickle, Izuku~”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAP!!” Deku cried, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. He tugged on his restraints – a pair of ice shackles Todoroki had attached to the headboard of his bed – and watched helplessly as Todoroki flashed him a wicked smile and then did it again, flat-out ignoring his begging. “SHOHOHOHOHOHOTO!!”

Todoroki finally sat up, gently tracing his fingers along Deku’s sides. “All right, I’ll give you a short break. But just a short one. You doing okay?”

Deku nodded, giggling, grateful for the respite. He’d been more than willing to allow Todoroki to explore his interest in tickling this way, since it made him so happy and Deku didn’t mind being tickled. But it was still nice to actually be able to breathe now and then. “Y-You’re…you’re ruthless,” he stammered, blushing. “You like it a lot, don’t you?”

“Tickling you into screaming my name like that?” Todoroki smiled, digging a finger into his belly button. “Heck yeah.”

“Ehehehehehehehe!” Deku squirmed, tugging on his restraints again, both impressed and intimidated by how strong they were. For all of his thrashing, they hadn’t even shown signs of wearing down or melting at all. It was amazing, really. “Shohohohoto!”

“Thanks for letting me do this,” Todoroki murmured, his voice more sincere now. “I really love getting you riled up like this. But if you need me to stop for real, use the safe word, okay? I don’t want to go too far.”

Deku smiled at him, touched. “I will. But don’t worry – I can take a little more. So, Shoto, is that all you got? You can make me laugh harder than that, can’t you?”

The fire in Todoroki’s eyes blazed to life, and his return smile was everything to Deku. “Oh, I’m sure I can find new and creative ways to break you down.”

56) Lee Deku, Ler Shinsou

“Let’s play a game,” Shinsou said. “One of us pretends to be an animal. The other has to guess what kind of animal they are.”

Deku smiled at the silliness of it, but nodded anyway. “Sure. You go first, since it’s your idea.”

Shinsou got on his hands and knees and barked.

Deku laughed. “A dog. That was easy!”

“Your turn.” Shinsou smiled. Deku did the same thing, but meowed instead. “A cat. All right, wise guy, let’s see if you can guess this next one.” He straightened but stayed on his knees, bringing his arms up to form “claws” and growling low in his throat.

Deku smirked. “A bear.” But Shinsou shook his head, making him pause to think a little more. “Uhh, a gorilla? A rabid kangaroo?”

Shinsou lunged for him then, still growling, pinning Deku’s arms down and gently nibbling his teeth into his ribs, “eating” him. Deku burst into giggles. “Come on, Midoriya, what am I?”

“Ahahahahahahaha! I dohohohohohon’t knohohohow! A lihihihihion?!”

“Nope.”

“Alligator?!”

“Nope!” Shinsou moved further down to his hips. “What kind of animal specifically goes for your ticklish spots and wrecks you like this?”

Deku squealed, throwing his head back to unleash a bout of laughter that lasted several seconds before he found the breath to reply, “MOHOHOHOHONSTER!! TIHIHIHIHICKLE MONSTER!!”

“That’s right!” Shinsou cheered, shoving his arms above his head and continuing to nibble at his neck and ears. Deku squirmed helplessly beneath him, lost to his own hysterics.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHA BUT I GOHOHOHOT IT RIHIHIHIHIHIGHT!!”

“Didn’t I tell you? The penalty for each wrong guess is five minutes of tickling.”

“FOR EHEHEHEHEACH ONE?!”

“For each one. So that’s, what – twenty-five minutes of tickle torture?” Shinsou settled his weight on Deku’s hips, enjoying the distressed squeal that came out of his boyfriend. “Better get comfortable, Midoriya. We’re gonna be here a while~”

57) Lee Todoroki, Ler Sero

“What? I’m only fixing this very squirmy bed cover!” Sero grinned at the moving lump underneath the comforter of his bed where Todoroki had very poorly tried to hide from him not a minute before.

Todoroki shrieked. “Stahahahahahap! Sero, it tihihihihihihihickles!”

“It does?” Sero laughed, hopping onto the bed to pin down the open end of the comforter, further trapping his friend and blindly reaching for where he thought the half-and-half’s torso was. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have run away.”

“Y-Yohohohohohou were gohohohohoing to t-tihihickle me!”

“And by running you only put off the inevitable.” Sero smirked. Todoroki squealed and went limp under the covers, presumably using all of his energy to laugh after a particularly bad spot was found. “Aww, did I getcha, Shoto?”

“Plehehehehehehehease!” Todoroki cried, sounding like he was gasping for breath. “I cahahahan’t breathe under hehehehehere!”

Sero frowned, worried, and quickly climbed off the bed so he could yank the comforter down and reveal the top half of a very disheveled-looking Todoroki. Before he could recover, the tape hero straddled his waist and hooked his fingers under his arms. “Tickle, tickle!”

“GAH!!” Todoroki tried arching his back, but when that did him no good he flopped helplessly onto the mattress and gave in, surrendering to his laughter as Sero tickled him silly. “Ahahahahahaha! Plehehehehehease, stop! Sehehehehero!”

“But you look like you’re having so much fun!”

A dark red blush bloomed on Todoroki’s cheeks. “Am nohohohohohot!”

“Now you’re lying to me?” Sero tsked. “You know I’m just going to punish you even more for that transgression.”

Todoroki looked elated despite himself. “Nohohohohohohohoho!”

Sero chuckled. “I think you mean yes.”

58) Lee Kaminari, Ler Ojiro

“No, no – you don’t get to hide your face.” Ojiro grabbed Kaminari’s wrists and pulled his hands away from his bright pink cheeks and wide smile, pinning them on either side of his head while his tail continued to lightly tickle his belly and belly button. “There we go.”

“No fahahahahahair,” Kami whined through his giggles, squirming but going nowhere fast. Ojiro was looming over him, grinning that wicked grin of his, using his tactical advantage against his friend in the worst – best? – way possible.

“I think it’s perfectly fair.” Ojiro smiled, trailing the fluff on his tail over Kami’s sides next, making the blonde beneath him jerk first to one side, then the other, then back again, giggling all the while. “Besides, you like gentle tickles, don’t you?”

“Behehehehetter than mehehehehean ones.”

“Mean tickles? You mean…on your knees?” Ojiro had his tail trail downwards to said spot.

Kami’s eyes widened. “Nohohohohohoho!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” The tail traveled back up, settling on the dip of his hips where his shorts had ridden down slightly. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~ You like that? My tail just liiiightly tickling you to make you smile? That’s what you really love, isn’t it?”

Kaminari was bright pink by now. “Shuhuhuhuhut up…”

“Oh, but you like the teasing even more, don’t you?” Ojiro’s smile became absolutely evil. “You wouldn’t mind if I stopped tickling you as long as I kept teasing, right?” He did just that, letting his tail hover in the air behind him as he teased an increasingly flustered Kaminari with just his words. “Do you miss it already? The tickling? Or would you prefer I just keep teasing you about how cute you look, all flustered like that?”

The electric hero whined, squirming under his fellow blonde’s tight hold. “P-Please, don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

“T-Tickling me.”

Ojiro chuckled, then started dusting his tail along Kami’s shins, making him giggle all over again. “You asked for it~”

59) Lee Shinsou, Ler Deku

“You’re not squirming away, smug for brains,” Deku laughed, pulling Shinsou in close and kissing the space between his shoulder blades as his fingers skittered along his ribs. “Come here! Take my tickly love!”

“Ehehehehahahahahaha!” Shinsou squealed, kicking wildly and messing up the blankets, but neither of them cared about that right now. The taller boy was currently the little spoon in their cuddling position, and with Deku’s arms wrapped around him in tandem with the tickly kisses along his back, he was going nowhere fast. The gentle assault was making him incredibly flustered and helplessly giggly. “Nahahahahahahaha! I-Izuhuhuhuku!”

“Take it!” Deku continued to laugh with him, moving his kisses up to the base of his neck. “Take my love!” His hands wandered down to pinch at a hip. “Take it, Shinsou!”

Shinsou was an incoherent mess, giggles and laughter intermixing with unintelligible pleas – though whether they were pleas to stop or keep going neither of them could tell.

Deku chose to do the latter, scooting his body up so he could reach Shinsou’s ears with his kisses while continuing to pinch and scribble along his hip bone. “It’s so cute that you’re so ticklish up here,” he mused with his own giggle. “You can’t even speak when I’m getting you like this.”

“S-S-Stahahahahahaha! Plehehehahahahahaha!” Shinsou was lost in his own laughter and loving every second, secretly hoping his boyfriend would never stop. “Zuku, nahahahahahahahaha!”

Deku couldn’t help but laugh, hugging him even closer and nibbling at the base of his ear, drawing a loud screech and even more frantic cackles from the completely helpless Shinsou. “Take my love, Toshi~ My tickly, tickly love for you~”

60) Lee Kaminari, Ler Jirou

“What are we, five years old now?”

Jirou grunted as she struggled to pin him. “You act like enough of a five-year-old for the both of us.”

“I do not!”

“Do, too.” She finally managed to overpower him just long enough to grab his foot and scribble her fingers over it.

Denki squeaked, releasing her instinctively and then immediately wishing he hadn’t, as he’d just lost any and all leverage he may have had over her. “Nohohohoho, Jirou!”

“That’s more like it.” She settled in on his ankles and dragged her nails up and down his bare soles. “Take this, genius.”

“Nahahahahahahaha!” He flailed in the grass, wishing it wasn’t so hot out that he’d decided to go out in only his shorts this afternoon to tan. Jirou was in shorts and a tank-top as well, but that did him little good when he was at her mercy instead of the other way around! “Plehehehehehease, no! I’ll do anythihihihihing!”

Jirou smirked at him over her shoulder. “Anything?”

“Yehehehehehes!”

“What if what I want to do is tickle you silly, Denks?”

He flashed her a brief, wide-eyed look before covering his face with his hands and groaning. “Ugh, the thihihihihings I dohohohoho for you, Kyoka.”

She beamed. “Aww, how sweet. Don’t worry…I won’t tickle you too bad~”

#fanfiction #tickle drabble #compilation #quick prompts #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #sentence starters #shindeku

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Note

hope i’m not too late, but congratulations on getting 500 followers! i adore everything you’ve written so far, keep up the good work!

can i request an exes au with geto x f!reader? not too angsty, but whether they get back together or not is up to you 👀

You said "not too angsty" but my mind said "HIT EM RIGHT IN THE FEELS" and I don't know wHyYyYyY

Please forgive me, but this... this is the epitome of my "ex of Geto" feelings. It literally flowed out of me in two hours.

"Yes, But...": Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

wc: 2k

tw: FLUFF AND A LIL' BIT OF ANGST

The large envelope slides from his hands to yours, and you look at the package in confusion as you open the flap.

“You want to get out of here and start fresh,” Geto begins, lacing his fingers together. You find a phone, two banking cards, and two passports inside, which is more than what you asked for. “You’ll need that.” When you open the phone, you see various apps loaded on the device - most of which are foreign to you. “Open the banking app.”

You do as your ex tells you, and see the collection of numbers (six digits) and the single comma that will change your life. You look up at the man in awe, trying to catch his black gaze as he looks outside, not speaking.

“Su, I just needed a new passport, not all of this.”

“It should put you in a good place for a few months until you get a good job. I have a friend in the States that should be able to put you up in a nice house, all paid for, of course. There’s a private school nearby so you don’t have to drive Haru there and back, just walk. And there are--”

“Suguru,” you stop him mid-sentence, placing your hand on the table to try and reach him. “We don’t need all of this. My parents are willing to--”

“I’m not sending you back to them, y/n. I want you to be independent of anyone else,” he retorts, nostrils flaring at the mention of your family. You know his frustration with your relatives comes from an honest place.

They had treated you savagely after you married into the Geto family, calling you all kinds of names and not even attending the birth of their first grandson. You weren’t sure if it was the ties to the underground that set them off or the fact that the Geto family had brought in a considerable amount of wealth and fame to your lives. Either way, you were cut off from them until you divorced Suguru due to--

“Our flight leaves at ten o’clock tomorrow,” you whisper, and Suguru shifts in his seat, sighing. “Will you come to see Haru before we go?” There’s a long pause as your ex-husband weighs his options, but you know his choice before he speaks.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he finally answers.

_____________________________________________________________

Tickets in hand, you try to keep your composure as you watch your son hold on to his father for the last time. Your other hand is captured in Suguru’s large palm, and he squeezes your fingers tenderly as you walk to the security checkpoint. While you walk, he talks to your son in gentle tones, telling him to write to him about all of the amazing things he sees and does, as well as the friends he makes, and how daddy still loves him no matter where he goes.

When he finally lets Haru down and places his Inosuke backpack around his shoulders, you turn to Geto, expecting him to say something final, something meaningful. But he doesn’t, opting to pull you into a deep embrace and kissing all over your face. “Please stay safe. Call when you make it in.”

“I will,” you whisper, inhaling the scent of his cologne and reliving your life together in a brief flash. “I promise.”

“I love you, y/n.” You want to reply that you love him, too, that the separation wasn’t his fault - but you just nod. The feeling of tiny arms around your legs makes you look down, and you both see Haru wrapping himself around your legs, holding you two together earnestly. When he lets go, Suguru lets go, and you hoist the toddler into your arms.

“Say ‘see you later,” you tell the child and he slowly waves his hand at Suguru as you walk past the agent at the checkpoint. Haru doesn’t stop waving until he can no longer see Geto, and he also waves until he can no longer see you, finally dropping his hand to his side and wondering why he felt so empty.

_____________________________________________________________

“Today we learned about the rainbow,” Haru sings as he skips with you down the sidewalk.

“Oh, yeah?” you laugh, holding his hand as he swings back and forth.

“And we played in the dirt.” That explains the messy pants, you muse, rounding the corner to the back of your home and unlocking the fence before letting Haru run up the back porch and inside the house.

You lock the fence behind you and follow your son inside, thinking of all the things you had to do before his sixth birthday party the next day. Suguru said he would be sending a surprise - you begged him not to send the fake nichirin sword you already purchased and stowed away - so you’d have to accommodate for whatever he sent your way, which was bound to be lavish.

Among other things that he provided (a house, a car, preschool, an on-call babysitter if you wanted to go out, a nain rug you looked at once and said you liked but you weren’t sure about), Suguru also spoke to Haru every evening, which made you feel at ease. He hadn’t ceased to be in Haru’s life after you divorced, so this wasn’t out of the blue. Co-parenting with him was still easy and somewhat effortless, even thousands of miles away.

You’re still lost in thought when the doorbell rings, and Haru leaps down the stairs to answer it, despite telling him not to do that time and time again. Quickly, you sidestep the boy and open the door, forgetting to check the peephole first. If you had, it might have prevented the massive shock both you and Haru have at the sight of Suguru standing in the entryway.

“Suguru…” you whisper, and Haru immediately goes to hug his father, squeezing him tightly.

“Oh, look at you,” Suguru groans, leaning down to pick up his son. “You’ve gotten bigger since I last saw you, huh?”

“I’m two inches taller!” You shake your head at the toddler’s estimation, smiling, but still in shock. Your eyes roam over the man’s appearance. He looks just as you left him, with long hair and that gaze that could see into the deepest parts of your soul. It’s been a year, but nothing’s changed at all.

“Come on in,” you urge him, and he carries Haru inside, setting him down in the foyer. Haru dashes up the stairs to retrieve something, and you walk into the kitchen, Geto following you around and looking over his surroundings.

“It looks beautiful in here,” he murmurs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“You should see upstairs,” you reply. “That’s your son’s domain.” Suguru chuckles, then places his hands on the counter behind him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I wanted to surprise both of you,” he shrugs and you sigh.

“There’s no guest bedroom.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he replies, and your first instinct is to balk at his suggestion and offer your bed. But you know Suguru’s considered his options already and would have gotten a hotel if he wanted to.

“Are your things--”

“In the car. I wanted to see if I was welcome first before I barged in with my stuff.” Haru reappears, holding up his drawing from school today.

“I drew this today! They told us to draw something we love,” your child smiles widely, showing his lack of a right front tooth. You peer over at the picture and see you - with a questionable hairstyle - Haru, and Geto holding hands in front of what you assume to be your house, and a grey… horse? cat? dog? off to the side. “And we have a cat. I named him Gojo after daddy’s friend.”

_____________________________________________________________

You hand Geto a pile of blankets and a pillow, hoping it would be enough to keep him warm on the couch. “You can turn the heat up downstairs if you need to,” you advise, and he nods, taking the offerings. He pauses in your bedroom, wanting to say something.

“Thank you,” he finally whispers, then walks away, leaving you in the room to contemplate your still brooding feelings for the man who walked into your home less than six hours ago.

“Wait,” you call out softly, and he returns, searching your face. “Did you get me that job at the museum?” you wonder, crossing your arms over your chest. “The head of the museum told me I came highly recommended for the Director of Curation position.”

“And if I did?” he wonders, angling his head to the left a little and frowning. You recognize his tell immediately and nod, biting the inside of your lip. “I promised to provide for you and Haru for as long as I’m alive. I’m not going to break that promise.”

Those words stay with you as you toss and turn in the bed hours later, trying to sleep. You’re failing miserably, you realize when you look at the clock, and you rise out of bed, padding downstairs to get some tea and calm down. You tiptoe past the hallway to the living room, hoping you wouldn’t wake Suguru as you heat up a cup of water.

You’ve almost succeeded in your mission when you hear a yawn and the familiar cracking of toes and ankles as Suguru walks into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

“Can’t sleep,” you explain and he nods, pulling a chamomile tea packet from the caddy by the cabinets. He rips open the packet and hands it to you, leaning against the counter as you dunk it in the cup and watch the color seep out.

“I still remember,” Suguru whispers, recalling the nights you spent awake while you were pregnant with Haru and how the tea was the only thing that could soothe you enough to sleep. He thumbs over to the living room and you follow, settling into the couch beside him. “Nightmares? Or just insomnia?”

“Insomnia,” you reply, and he motions for you to place your feet in his lap. He begins rubbing them methodically, taking his time on the soles as you lean into the arm of the couch and sigh.

“Remember when we used to watch Jeopardy before bed and you’d fall asleep mid-answer?” he chuckles, and you shake your head, a smile pulling at your lips.

“Those were some hard nights,” you reply, and he hums thoughtfully.

“I wonder where it all went wrong.”

You both knew where it went wrong. There was no privacy, no semblance of peace, nowhere you two could go without someone knowing everything and being in your business. And adding Haru to the mix made everything worse. The breaking point came when you were playing with him in the backyard and heard the sound of a shutter capturing your every move. Suguru broke the camera and the man’s arm, but the damage had been done. The only way you could escape the limelight was divorcing him and his name, then escaping somewhere where no one cared who you were or who you used to be. Here, you were just… y/n.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be the wife you wanted,” you whisper, and Suguru shakes his head.

“No, you were - are - the wife I want. I didn’t protect you enough. I should be the one apologizing.”

“Don’t,” you urge him, setting the un-sipped tea on the coffee table. “Don’t apologize.”

“Then I won’t,” he replies, pulling you closer. “But I have to confess something.”

“Say it.”

“My family bought property nearby. I’ll be stateside more often than not.” Geto smoothes a hand across your cheek, cupping your chin as you move onto his lap slowly.

“Haru will love that,” you breathe.

“But will you love that?” he wonders, ghosting his lips over yours.

“Yes, but--” He presses his lips to yours tenderly, cutting you off. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, feeling all of your shared love in that one kiss.

“Yes, but...?” he asks, pulling away and raising a brow.

“Was this your plan all along?” Suguru smiles, nipping at your bottom lip. His arm curls around your waist as he pins you beneath him, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“And if it was?”

“It’s definitely working.” Suguru hums in pleasure and continues to kiss you until you're at peace in his arms again, and fast asleep.

#getou suguru #geto suguru #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #getou x reader

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Fifteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: NSFW!!😈😈 please disregard colorado window tinting laws for this chapter

***

Cassian has yet to regret getting Nesta that personalized record, despite the fact that she plays it everyday on repeat with a near obsession. Is this what true love is? Letting your girlfriend blast the same songs through your home again and again, and never tiring of it? Never tiring of her?

He doesn’t get to ponder on it, because while Nesta spends the week lazing pantsless around the house (“I’m getting ready for the party,” she states while he rubs her feet. “Spiritually and all that.”), Cassian has to figure out how to turn the cabin into an inviting space for forty wealthy guests.

All of Nesta’s shit gets shoved in the back of his bedroom closet. Personal items and framed pictures of the two of them are swiped off any surfaces. Lights go up around the house. Catering is secured.

By the time it’s all finished, the cabin has been stripped of all warmth and familiarity and turned into something chic and upscale, suitable for a small gala. Nesta stares around at the space when it’s done, her face revealing nothing.

Cassian points to the small sitting area on the second floor, directly above the open living room, that leads outside to the wraparound balcony. “We’ll be able to see fireworks from there,” he says. He turns to see Nesta’s face is still carefully blank, the way it is when she’s thinking too many things at once. “You sure you want to do this?” he asks. “It’s not too late to cancel the whole thing.”

She looks at him in horror. “It most certainly is. The party’s tomorrow.”

“Still not too late.” Cassian might not have that much power in the overall Night Court hierarchy, but for Nesta he could figure it out.

She smiles wanly but shakes her head. “We’re doing this, and we’re not letting it go to hell like last time.”

***

Nesta knows her sisters are aware that she’s on the guest list for the party (though she can’t imagine what Cassian’s explanation for that one was), but she still stiffens when she enters the cabin through the open door. Her eyes fall on various men and women that she’s never seen in her life, all glammed up and dripping self-importance, until recognizing Feyre and her boyfriend laughing with an older couple in a corner. The only thing that brings Nesta a little peace is that the snide woman, Amren, isn’t here tonight, having chosen to spend New Year’s with her boyfriend in California instead.

Nesta eases up when nobody takes notice of her, though a few nearby guests throw appreciative glances in her direction. She looks like a disco ball in her sequined wrap dress, and a freezing one at that. She shuts the door behind her, sealing the winter air out, but quickly pulls her hand away from the knob. It feels like the door isn’t hers to touch. She realizes that even though the cabin is her home, no one here except Cassian knows that.

Speaking of Cassian, she needs to find him. Nesta is not such an advanced creature that she knows how to survive in a room full of strangers on her own, and she no longer cares if anyone finds her clinging to Cassian weird.

She makes it three feet before she’s accosted by Morrigan, carrying her usual champagne glass like it’s an extension of her.

“Nesta!” she exclaims, loud and bright as ever. She smiles broadly, with too many teeth. “You’re here.”

Nesta blinks in response. She doesn’t understand how Morrigan benefits from this exaggerated excitement. Is it supposed to be insulting or polite?

“By the way,” Morrigan adds when Nesta doesn’t reply, “what exactly are you doing here?”

A heavy arm slides around Nesta’s shoulders, pulling her close. “I invited her,” says Cassian with a smile. “Because she’s my friend, and this place is practically hers.”

“Oh, I think that’s an exaggeration,” Nesta says sharply, trying to step away from Cassian.

He holds her closer. “No it’s not. We were roomies for over two months, remember?”

Morrigan winces, looking between the two of them. “Right,” she says slowly. “I keep forgetting that. Cassian is like this with everybody,” she says apologetically to Nesta. “Don’t take him too seriously.”

Nesta nods solemnly, wanting this conversation to be over. “I won’t.”

Her exit is made clear when the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it,” she says quickly, escaping from under Cassian’s arm.

Hurrying to the door, she swings it open.

Eris Vanserra stands looking irritated on the other side. He freezes when he sees Nesta, and then his face lifts into a smug grin. “Oh, this is too good.”

“So Cassian Madani was your sugar daddy all along?” Eris asks her later.

“Say sugar daddy one more time. I dare you.” Nesta stands near the stairs with her arms crossed, trying to pretend she isn’t associated with Eris. Which is more than a bit difficult when he keeps badgering her with questions, and Cassian is giving the two of them odd looks from across the room.

“I mean, what are the odds?” he laughs.

“My sister is dating his CEO brother.”

Eris throws her a look of surprise, but Nesta says, “How do you even know him?”

Eris sticks an hors d'oeuvre from a nearby platter in his mouth. “He manages security and logistics at every event Night Court is involved in. Can be a real pain in the ass to work with when I’m trying to get shit done for my dad’s company.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” she retorts.

They’re interrupted by Feyre and Rhys appearing before them, Feyre with her hostess smile and Rhysand with an inquisitive look on his face. Nesta can’t tell which one of them is more attached to the hip of the other.

“Eris,” Rhysand greets smoothly.

“I see you’re already acquainted with my sister,” Feyre says. Her tone is tense, either because she’s still pissed at Nesta or—even worse—she feels protective of her.

“We’re classmates,” Nesta says tightly. “Does it matter?”

Feyre tries not to look hurt. “No—I just didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do.”

“Ladies,” a new voice says warningly. Cassian’s left whatever droll conversation he was stuck in and made his way over to them.

“Is the entire party congregating here?” Eris looks around himself.

“No, we are not,” Cassian says, all his usual friendliness gone around Eris. “I just came to ask Feyre to talk to the representatives from Spellbreaker before they pull all their money out of our latest operation.”

Feyre’s eyes go wide and her tattooed hand goes to her chest. “That’s not really my job—”

“Oh, come on, darling.” Rhysand slides a hand around her waist. “I’ll go with you; the art of negotiating is easier than it looks.”

Nesta nearly pukes in her mouth, but she maintains a careful blank face until Feyre and Rhysand are successfully out of sight. Cassian turns to Eris with a stony look. “You’re still here?”

Nesta sighs internally; this man has never hidden his feelings in his life.

Eris shares an amused glance with Nesta as if he’s thinking the same thing. “Is there anywhere else I should be right now?” he replies.

“Maybe in hell.”

Nesta claps a hand on Cassian’s shoulder and fakes a smile at Eris. “Tell your brother hi for me,” she says while pulling Cassian away. “I miss talking to a sensible redhead.”

“That’s because you have awful taste,” Eris calls after her. Nesta drags Cassian deep into the hallway, where no one lingers.

She releases him without flourish. “Are you doing okay? Because it seems like you’re having a harder time with this than I am.”

“I’m fine,” Cassian defends. “I was just hit with a terrible memory back there.”

“Like what?”

“That you’re friends with Eris.”

Nesta rolls her eyes. Friends is a very liberal term, but she won’t correct Cassian while he’s acting like this. “Thank you for helping with Feyre and Mor,” she says instead. “I didn’t need it, but I still appreciate it.” It’s a hard thing to admit, but she wants him to hear it.

“I was just trying to get you alone,” he says, leaning against the bathroom door. “I’ve been trying to get you alone all night.”

Nesta looks him up and down, from his white dress shirt and tied back hair to his uncharacteristically polished shoes. “For what?” she says warily. “If this is about a sex thing, don’t bother. There’s nowhere in this house for us to go without raising suspicion.”

Cassian pushes off the door with a dark look. “I wasn’t going to suggest staying in the house.” He holds a bronzed hand out toward her. “Wanna get out of here?”

***

Cassian doesn’t remember how he ever managed to fit all six-four of himself into the cramped backseat of his truck when he was fucking girls in college, but for Nesta he figures it out somehow.

Her pretty little dress is shoved down to her midriff, baring her arms and flushed breasts, and her skirt is bunched up high enough that Cassian can watch as he moves his fingers inside her. The glow of lights from the cabin lands on her perfect face as she throws her head back in pleasure, and he can only watch her in awe.

He laughs lowly when she whimpers and eases a third finger into her wet heat, in no rush to return to the party anytime soon. Let them all wonder where he and Nesta wandered off to.

But Nesta has far less patience than him; she pulls him in for a frenzied kiss and uses the distraction to slide her hand into his boxer briefs, palming his cock. He groans into her mouth as she pulls out the length of him from his unzipped pants, and it’s at that very moment that two voices interrupt their panting.

“Thanks,” a muffled female voice says from outside the truck. Cassian looks up through the dark tinted windows to find—Jesus Christ—Mor accepting a cigarette from Rhys. The two of them stand some feet away from the truck, unaware that anyone is occupying it.

“Some way to end the year,” Rhys is saying, watching the clear night sky. Nesta’s gone completely still beneath Cassian, not needing to get up and look to know who stands in the driveway. “Would have been even better without Nesta terrorizing Feyre at every turn.”

Sickness turns Cassian’s stomach at hearing such ugly words about Nesta come from his brother, but that sickness is quickly replaced by rage as Mor huffs a laugh. “She’s not that bad,” Mor says, taking a pull from her cigarette. “Though I could do without the attitude at every damn gathering.”

Rhys clicks his tongue. “She’s always been like that, even when the sisters were kids. It kills Feyre.”

Cassian glances down at Nesta, terrified of what he’s going to find on her face. But Nesta doesn’t look hurt or enraged like he expects. Instead, she’s listening closely with her brows furrowed, studiously intrigued.

Noticing Cassian’s attention on her, she meets his eyes and her breath hitches. A blush takes over her cheeks, and she clenches involuntarily around the fingers still deep inside her. Cassian realizes that his fury is written all over his face. And she likes it.

His anger at his friends flickers—or rather, transforms. Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of Nesta. He sits up a bit straighter and kneels properly on the backseat, earning a curious look from her. Hunching so his head doesn’t hit the truck ceiling, he wraps his hands around her thighs and maneuvers her legs up, up until they’re hooked over his shoulders. She nearly chokes at the new position.

He adjusts them so his cock is pressed right up against her sex, and looks out the window again, where Rhys and Mor are still talking. It’s all idle gossip, he knows, but... “What do you think, baby?” He slides his length over her slick folds. “Should I go out there and defend your honor?”

“Absolutely not,” Nesta gasps, shaking her head.

“And it’s like when she’s not quiet as a brick, she’s being rude,” Mor rants outside, flicking her cigarette. “I know Cass is friendly with everybody, but I have no idea what he was thinking inviting her here.”

“Oh, she’s not so quiet when I have my head between her legs,” Cassian murmurs at Mor. He glances down at Nesta with a knowing smirk. “She’s not so rude when I give her the right incentive, either.” He pats her bottom lip with his thumb, the bright red lipstick smearing. “Isn’t that right, Nes?”

“Bastard.” Nesta squirms, trying to line up her entrance with the head of Cassian’s cock. She’s not even listening to the conversation outside anymore.

“I think he likes her,” Rhys says, his breath clouding in the freezing night air. If only he knew. “We don’t always use reason when it comes to people we like.”

“Maybe,” Mor ponders. “But I can’t imagine it going anywhere. They’re too different.”

“I disagree,” Cassian mutters. He finally gives in to Nesta’s efforts and pushes inside her, sliding to the hilt in one thrust. She claps a hand over her mouth to stifle her moan.

“There are plenty of things we have in common, don’t you think, Nesta?” He sets a steady rhythm with his hips, pumping in and out of her. “Like how well we fit together.” Her head bumps the car door with every thrust.

“You—you’re gonna rock the truck,” Nesta tries to whisper. Cassian hides his smile in the crook of her knee at the rare use of informal contraction. She’s adorable.

“We wouldn’t want that to happen,” he teases, leaning forward to take a pert nipple into his mouth. A whimper slips past her lips; she’s nearly bent in half beneath him. With this new, deeper angle, Cassian moves slow enough that Nesta feels every solid inch of him.

His loose hair falls around his face as he drops his head to the center of Nesta’s chest. It takes every bit of restraint he knows not to suckle at the space between her breasts, not to leave reddened marks there that everyone will be able to see when they go back inside. But damn if this position isn’t driving him crazy.

Mor, Rhys, everything beyond the haven of the truck falls away. He doesn’t know if anybody is still outside, or if people have noticed his and Nesta’s absence from the party. He doesn’t care, not as he swears and thrusts particularly deep into her tight warmth.

Even her hand can’t contain the sound she makes at that.

Cassian moves one of his own hands to the crown of Nesta’s head, creating a barrier between her and the car door. With his other arm, he locks her thighs into place against his chest, and begins slamming relentlessly into her.

“CassianCassianCassian—”

He silences her with a searing kiss, and flicks her clit with a calloused thumb. Nesta scrabbles at his arms, at the seat upholstery, as her orgasm crashes into her. Her walls milk his cock almost painfully, and with a few more thrusts he’s coming, too.

As he rides out his climax, he intertwines their fingers together and presses them to the freezing window. Outside, there is no one to see the handprint they leave on the fogged up glass.

***

Nesta needs a moment to catch her breath while Cassian zips himself up. Leaning against the hard truck door, she achingly fits one arm back into the sleeve of her dress, then the other. “I think I have a bruise from where that seatbelt buckle stabbed me in the ribs,” she mutters.

“Where?” Cassian looks her over, but she waves him away and reaches over to dig in the back pocket of the driver’s seat, finding a packet of makeup wipes she left there some weeks ago. She plucks out a wipe for herself and tosses the rest of the packet at Cassian’s chest, which is covered in her lipstick marks.

He accepts the wipes with a “thanks” and begins rubbing at his reddened mouth and neck. Nesta watches him instead of wiping at her own lipstick, taking in whatever the light of the moon highlights: his unbuttoned shirt, his loose hair that fell forward into her face while they fucked, his skin peppered with her marks.

He notices her stare. “What?” he says, smiling.

“Have you ever done that before?” She nods outside to where Mor and Rhys were standing ten minutes ago. It wasn’t exhibitionism since nobody had seen them, but it still felt... dirty.

Cassian snorts, starting to button up his shirt. “I’ve done far worse.” He meets her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten off to the sound of other people shit-talking my girl, though, so that’s new.”

Nesta blushes, and pretends to look around for her shoes to hide the reaction. She’s always known her bedroom experience was pathetically limited, but she’s just now starting to realize how much of that was Tomas’s fault. Not only was he boring when it came to sex, but he left her too hurt and untrusting to try anything with other men until Cassian came along.

Cassian nudges Nesta’s knee, and she finds him already holding her heels. Instead of letting her take them, he takes her feet and starts putting them on for her. “Clean yourself up,” he directs as he buckles a silver strap into place. “It’s almost an hour to midnight.”

Right. Cassian tosses her her panties, and she uses them to clean up the mess between her thighs before discarding them on the floor. “Don’t—” he tries to protest, but sighs and gives up. “You’re filthy.”

“You love it.” She picks up her forgotten makeup wipe to scrub at her smeared makeup. “Do I look okay?” She turns her face to him after a moment so he can check.

“You missed a spot.” He takes the wipe and rubs at her chin. “There,” he says softly, gazing more intimately at her than usual. “Beautiful.”

She most certainly doesn’t look beautiful right now, with the mess that’s been made of her face and hair. But he seems to believe it all the same.

I love you. The thought comes to her suddenly, unexpectedly.

“What?” Shock turns Cassian’s face.

Nesta blinks, realizing the words weren’t only in her head. “What?”

“You said—”

“I said ‘Let’s get out of here’,” she says quickly, swinging her legs down from the seat and reaching for the door handle. “Let’s go!”

She shoves out of the truck without waiting for Cassian and foots it for the cabin, breathing harshly like she just fell from a great height.

***

Nesta goes straight to the master bedroom to redo her makeup and pick up a new pair of underwear. She knows it’s cowardly to leave Cassian downstairs, stuck chatting with wealthy donors and unable to follow her, but she won’t let him confront her about the confession that spilled back in the truck. Not yet.

When she finally finds the courage to stick her head out of the room, she nearly jumps at the sight of Azriel leaning against the hallway wall.

“What are you doing in my brother’s room?” he says, as if he was waiting for her to come out.

The best lies are half-truths. “Avoiding people,” she answers vaguely, exiting the room fully and shutting the door behind her. She clears her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Snooping.” He pushes off the wall and slides his hands into his pockets. “It’s interesting; I don’t think I’ve seen you all night, and now I find you in Cassian’s bedroom of all places.”

What is this, an interrogation? “I’m good at blending in,” Nesta says. “Few people ever notice me.”

“And I’m good at observing,” Azriel retorts, dark amusement gleaming in his gaze. “Where did you run off to earlier?”

Nesta looks him up and down, too bored to bother answering him. “I’m going to go now.” She shoves past his shoulder and walks away, leaving him too stunned to follow.

She comes across Elain near the top of the stairs.

“Nesta,” her sister says in surprise. Her brown eyes flicker past Nesta’s shoulder, to where Azriel still lurks in the hallway. She looks back to Nesta. “I wasn’t sure if you actually came tonight. I haven’t seen you at all.”

“Yeah, I’ve been hanging around.” Nesta waves a dismissive hand. It’s like Christmas Eve never happened between them. That’s the wonderful and terrible thing about sisters, Nesta supposes: there are no apologies, only moving on and moving past.

“Well, you look like you’re doing good.” Elain seems distracted. “I wish we could talk more, but I don’t have time for a fight tonight.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Azriel says, who’s snuck up behind Nesta. “If it’s me you’re worried about, I was just about to leave.” He’s addressing Elain, but won’t quite look her in the eyes. He turns to Nesta instead. “Happy New Year.” And then he’s gone down the stairs.

Elain stands there looking torn, wondering if she should go after him or not, but then Nesta says, “Why do you assume I would start a fight?”

“I—”

“Because if I remember correctly, our last fight was started by you.” She crosses her arms.

Elain sighs. “I just said I don’t have time for this.”

“I’m asking a question in response to a comment you made unprovoked.” When Nesta is calm, she can talk circles around Elain all night.

Elain throws her hands up. “It was just a stupid comment! I said it because we argue all the time. I can’t remember the last time we talked without arguing.”

“September twenty-eighth,” Nesta snaps.

Elain’s mouth drops open. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. You got the loan for your flower shop approved and you called me to celebrate. I was happy for you.”

Elain shakes her head, but Nesta can’t read what she’s feeling. “You remember the most inconsequential things.”

It doesn’t sound like an insult, so Nesta shrugs. “Don’t bother me and I won’t bother you.” She turns to go on her way. Of course, Elain doesn’t stop her. She’s never been one to get in the last word.

***

It’s ten minutes to midnight and Cassian still hasn’t been able to get a hold of Nesta since she ran from the truck. He doesn’t know why she’s running from such a simple truth, but he doesn’t plan on giving her much more time to hide. He has so much he needs to say to her—

A hand comes down on his shoulder as he’s about to slip away upstairs to find Nesta. Cassian turns to find Rhysand there, wearing the serious face he only uses for work-related business. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Cassian is not in the mood. He already had to repress the urge to find Mor and Rhys and tear into them when he returned to the party, and now he’s not sure if he can manage a conversation with his brother without snapping. Without spilling everything he’s worked so hard to hide.

“Not now,” Cassian says, trying to act chill. “It’s almost midnight and I’m trying to catch the...” He trails off as his eyes catch on Nesta, who’s appeared at the second floor sitting area with Eris.

“...fireworks,” he finishes. He turns to Rhys. “Let’s go upstairs to watch.” Half the guests, including the rest of his friends, are probably already outside for the countdown.

He keeps his eyes on Nesta as he climbs the stairs. Watching as she takes notice of him and quickly turns away, smiling at Eris instead. She lets the dickhead place his hand on her back to guide her out to the balcony.

Rage and disbelief take Cassian by the throat. Hiding in another man’s arms to avoid him? Coward fucking move, Archeron.

She steps outside with Eris, and before Cassian can follow he’s stopped once again by Rhys grabbing his arm. “Cass, will you slow down and listen to me for a minute?”

“What is it?” he snaps impatiently. They’re stopped at the top of the stairs, and other guests flow past them as they head for the balcony doors.

Rhys inhales, getting visibly irritated. He says, “I got a call from one of our overseas partners the other day—”

“Rhys!” Feyre calls from the balcony doors, waving her arms at him. “Get your ass over here, it’s almost midnight!”

Rhys turns to his girlfriend, his face lightening. “Be right there, darling.” He gives Cassian a sharp look. “We’ll finish this later.”

Cassian only nods and whirls on his heel, nearly shoving people out of his way to get outside. To get to Nesta.

Up on the wraparound balcony and down below on the frosty ground, guests are lined up with their partners, wrapped up in coats and eagerly awaiting midnight. He barely feels the cold, but he knows Nesta must. He should have grabbed a coat for her.

“Thirty seconds to midnight!” someone announces, answered by loud cheers.

Spotting shining red hair, Cassian grabs Eris by the suit jacket and whirls him around. “Where’s Nesta?” he demands over the loud chatter.

Eris makes a face like he’s been manhandled by a filthy dog. “Clearly not with me,” he retorts, shoving Cassian’s hand off him. “She got all pissy and went that way.” He gestures at a faraway section of balcony where most of the guests are crowding, hoping for an optimal view of the fireworks.

“TEN!” Someone starts the countdown. Others quickly catch on.

“NINE!” Cassian heads in the direction Eris pointed, searching through the sea of glitter and gold for a glimpse of Nesta.

“EIGHT!” He hears his friends calling after him distantly, asking where he’s going.

“SEVEN!” He catches sight of Nesta.

“SIX!” He doesn’t know what he’s thinking as he navigates through the crowd, reaching for her. But he knows she’s shining brighter than the moon right now. He knows he’s been fooling himself since the moment she stepped into his cabin this past September.

“FIVE!”

He closes in on her, her back turned to him.

“FOUR!”

Let’s not go out of our way to hide this anymore, they agreed after Christmas Eve. Let’s just be ourselves around our friends and family, and they’ll find out when they find out.

“THREE!”

In Cassian’s defense, he’s simply being himself in this moment.

“TWO!”

He takes Nesta by the elbow and spins her around. She meets his eyes in surprise. “Cassian. I was looking for you—”

“ONE!”

He pulls her into his arms and kisses her.

***

a/n: punk 57 was a shit book but i gotta give it credit for the truck scene

taglist: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein

#nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian fic #nessian au #for some reason i’m not showing up in the tags??#i’m gonna kill everybody

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

Anything for You

So, I got this idea in my head and I wrote it. This is not the first thing I’ve written, but the first that I finished. And the first that I’m posting. Sorry if it sucks. I hope someone out there likes it. Italics indicate past memories.

Summary: This takes place after Maeve. It sort of starts a month before Spencer goes back to work but then skips a year. Reader is the newest member of the BAU. Spencer lashes out when she tries to help him, but he doesn’t realize how much she can relate to his trauma.

warnings: angst but also a little fluff, typical CM violence (kidnapping, torture, death etc.), dark thoughts about dying, I think that’s it

Word Count: 6218

It is moments like this that make you rethink every decision that lead you here. You are on the jet on the way back to Quantico after a particularly rough case. The team managed to save the most recent victim, but only to discover three more hidden on the unsubs property. And to make it worse, they were children. Everyone on the team keeps shooting you concerned glances, worried that you might break. It’s only fair. You are still the newbie.

You started at the BAU one month ago to the day. Your previous position was a desk job, but you were ready to get back into field after two years of endless paperwork. Not that the entire team knows you had been in the field before. Only Hotch knows. You don’t like to talk about it. You had gone so far as to cut Hotch off to prevent him from bringing it up on your first day.

You are counting down the floors with each beep as the elevator rises to bring you to the floor that houses the Behavioral Analysis Unit. To say you aren’t nervous would be a lie, but that comes with the territory of starting a new job. Especially a job with one of the most elite units of the FBI. It’s hard not to be intimidated.

The elevator doors slide open, revealing the all too familiar glass doors that lead to the BAU. When you were trying to decide if switching career paths was the right decision, you found yourself staring at these doors far more than you’d care to admit.

You walk through the doors, immediately heading for Hotch’s office. He told you to meet him there first thing this morning. You knock on the open door to draw his attention.

“Agent L/N, please come in.” He looks up from the file he has open on his desk.

“Agent Hotchner, I would just like to thank you again for the position.” You have to stop yourself before you ramble on about how grateful you are for his taking a chance on you.

“Please, call me Hotch. You’re new ID was just dropped off.” He says, handing you the plastic card to put in your credentials. You take a moment to admire the way your name looks just above the words “Behavioral Analysis Unit” before sliding it into the wallet.

“I wish we had time for a more thorough welcoming, but we just got a case. I’ll introduce you to the team in the conference room.” He rises from his desk, you following behind him to a room already full of profilers. Of course, you already know of them all, but the introductions are nice nonetheless.

“L/N, these are SSAs Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, and Jennifer Jureau and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” You shake hands with each member of the team as there name is called. “Team, this is SSA Y/N L/N. She transferred from violent crimes-” You know he is going to bring up your previous field work, so you cut him off.

“It’s an honor to meet you all.” You smiled at Hotch, trying your best to get him to move on. Thankfully, you can see in his eye that he understands why you don’t want to relieve your past field experience.

“Actually, that’s not all. Dr. Reid is on leave at the moment, but you’ll meet him when he returns.” You nod, taking a seat next to Derek. “Garcia, you can start now.”

The memory fades and you try to ignore the concerned glances from everyone on the jet. Yes, you were the one to find the children in the back shed, but you have techniques to handle this. You’ve always been good at compartmentalizing. It comes with the territory of undercover work.

You are more concerned with the wellbeing of one Dr. Reid. This is the first case you’ve worked with him, but it still feels like something’s off. Granted, you don’t know why he was on leave or how long it lasted.

After everyone else is asleep, barring Hotch who is too focused on his reports to pay you any attention, you slide down into the seat across from Spencer. He doesn’t even glance up from his book.

“Dr. Reid?” You can tell he’s stopped reading at the sound of your voice, but it takes him a moment to actually look up at you. When he does, you can see the sadness in his eyes.

“L/N. Are you okay?” Of course he would ask you that. You’ve known him for all of 72 hours, but he’s still concerned about you’re wellbeing. The way your heart flutters at the sentiment catches you off guard.

“Oh, um, I’m fine. I actually wanted to check on you.” He looks startled at that, but you just push forward. “I know we only just met, and I have no idea what you’re going through, but I just thought maybe I could help.” You can see the instant you finished talking that it was a mistake. He is clearly not ready to talk about his demons, especially with a near stranger.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ “No, you shouldn’t have.” His words are defensive more than anything. The words of someone who just went through unbelievable pain “You couldn’t possibly help me. Unless, of course, you’ve been kidnapped, tortured, and drugged, shot multiple times, and witnessed the love of your life being murdered in front of you just to name a few. I’m sure you have plenty of experience with that given your work in violent crimes.” The sarcasm is obvious, with violent crimes being a desk job. He mistakes the tears that spring to your eyes as pity rather than understanding. He scoffs, going back to his book while you wander back to your previous seat, trying to control your emotions.

Spencer doesn’t know about your time undercover. He doesn’t know you experienced all of those things. He doesn’t know about the scars that line your torso or the more prevalent scars on your heart. You try not to take it personally. You’ve had years to deal with your trauma. His is clearly newer. You tell yourself over and over that he’s not angry with you, but with the world. You just happened to be the first available outlet.

When the others wake up, they assume your red eyes are due to the case. That you are finally breaking down after a month on the job. They offer words of encouragement and promises to be there if you need to talk. They stress how you aren’t alone. They all know how you feel. You simply nod, gathering your things before heading home. You can’t help but think there is one of them who knows exactly what is going through your head. It’s the first time you’ve cried over Cameron in three months, the last time being the anniversary of his death.

-------

The next year at the BAU flies by. You actually feel like part of the family, knowing you could talk to any member of the team when you need a friend. Well, almost any member of the team. You and Spencer didn’t click the way everyone thought you would. Ever since the conversation on the plane, you hold back when you’re with him. It’s not that you two avoid each other. You’re just more like coworkers than family. You converse when you need to, but don’t seek each other out.

Nobody understands why. Hotch especially thought the two of you would become close. You can see why he would think so. From your brief encounters with Spencer, you can tell he’s been through hell. Hotch was probably hopeful the two of you might bond over shared trauma, act as an anchor for each other to know you aren’t alone. Of course that required you to share your trauma with the team, which definitely has not happened.

It’s not that you don’t trust them. It’s just that the moment hasn’t provided itself yet. First of all, you can’t just casually bring up being kidnapped and tortured for government secrets with your fiancé who was then murdered in front of you. Second of all, something in you says it would crush Spencer. You can tell he clearly still feels bad about what he said to you that day.

You two hadn’t talked about it. It was a year later, and you still hadn’t talked about it. You would think he forgot, but he does have a rather prolific memory. Everything was fine though. Mostly. He still seemed nervous around you. Or maybe you were projecting. There is something about Dr. Reid…

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” You were honestly surprised to hear Spencer’s voice saying those six words. Everyone else had already gone home, even Hotch. You just wanted to finish one more file.

“Of course, what’s up?” You try desperately to sound casual, to pretend like you weren’t just thinking about him. Despite not talking to Spencer all that often, you still have a massive amount of respect for him. Watching him work is incredible. You would expect most people with his intelligence to come off as cocky, but he is somehow still so humble.

“I just wanted to apologize. For what I said on the jet. I was in a bad place, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have said those things, you were just trying to help me, and I threw it back in your face. Also, I’m sorry it took me so long to actually apologize. I just felt so awful, I didn’t know how to bring it up and the longer I waited the more nervous I became and” “Spencer,” he looked startled at the sound of his name. Granted, you normally call him Dr. Reid or Reid when you’re feeling more casual, but still. It’s his name, why is he so surprised you’re using it? “You didn’t do anything wrong. Trust me. You were dealing with an amount of grief nobody should have to go through. I shouldn’t have tried to step in without knowing more about the situation. I’m sorry.” This is your chance. Tell him what happened to you. Come clean about it all.

He just looks so… relieved. As if you had lifted a weight off his shoulder just by telling him you understood he didn’t mean it. Seeing the hope in his eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to put any of that weight back on him. He had just freed himself, he doesn’t need your problems weighing him back down.

You can tell he still feels bad, but maybe now the two of you can try to move on. Maybe you’ll actually become friends. Telling him that you have indeed been through all of those things would just bring all that guilt back. For some reason, there is nothing you would rather do than protect Spencer Reid from pain.

So, you’ve resigned yourself to never telling anyone unless you absolutely had to. You convinced yourself it was a secret you could take to the grave. Nobody needed to know.

Until one day, they do. And that day happens to be tomorrow.

“Hello, crime fighters. This one is a doozey.” Penelope walked into the round table room and immediately jumped into the case. “Three heterosexual couples in Plano, Texas have been killed. The details are on your tablets. Be warned, it is not a pretty sight. All the victims were tortured. The men all died of blood loss. The women were drowned after multiple non fatal gunshot wounds and other various forms of torture.” You tensed ever so slightly at the description of the crimes. Hotch shot you a concerned glance, but you waved him off with a slight shake of your head. You zoned out for the rest of Garcia’s description, deciding instead to focus on every detail you could learn from the case files on your tablet.

“Wheels up in 20.” Hotch’s voice drew you from your focus on the files. “Y/N?” You looked at him from your seat at the table, realizing everyone else had already left. “If this is too much for you, everyone would understand.” You stand, plastering the fakest smile Hotch has ever seen on your face.

“I appreciate the concern, but there is a job to do. And I intend to do it.” There is no malice behind your words. Only a fierce determination to catch this unsub before he can hurt anyone else.

“Alright, but Y/N, please. Let me know if you need to talk about it. The whole team is here for you.” You features soften into a genuine smile before you respond.

“Thank you, Hotch.” And with that, you exit the room. You grab your go bag, meeting the other agents by the elevator.

The flight to Texas is long enough that the team’s discussion doesn’t prevent everyone from catching up on sleep. While everyone else is resting, preparing to start up again on the ground with fresh eyes, you are pouring over every detail again and again. You just need to know if it’s the same people. The same people who killed your fiancé. The same people who tortured you.

It was a day like any other. You had just gotten to the bar you were working at as a cover. Cameron was working security, you as a bartender. The mission was supposed to be simple.

There was a domestic terrorist cell operating just outside of Plano in Addison, TX. The leader was believed to own the very bar you had gotten a job in. You were supposed to gather intelligence, and report back. You weren’t supposed to engage with the terrorist cell. It was a simple mission.

That day, the day you could never forget, started exactly how you expected it to. The leader was supposed to be meeting with his right hand. You were supposed to learn who or what they were planning to target. You still can’t pinpoint the moment you knew something was wrong.

Everything was normal when you clocked in. Everything was normal when you served you first few customers. Everything as normal when you walked up to the table hosting the meeting and asked if you could get them anything. Everything was normal until it wasn’t.

You remember waking up in a warehouse. Cameron was tied to a chair across from you. He was injured, bleeding from a cut in his side. It didn’t look that bad, but there was so much blood. How could such a small cut produce so much blood?

You had a million questions, but couldn’t form the words to ask them. You’re mouth felt like it was full of cotton. Cameron looked at you as if he knew something you didn’t. You suppose he did, given that he was awake before you. But that’s not what concerned you the most. No, it was the look of pure terror in his eyes. Pure terror, mixed with… resignation? That doesn’t make sense. Why would he be giving up?

Finally gathering enough strength to speak, you mumble “What happened?”

“Y/N… they know who we are. I don’t know how they figured it out, but they did. They are going to hurt me to get to you. You can’t let them, okay? Stay strong. Everything will be fine.” His words are rushed. You have a hard time following them, as if the words drift into the air, only to enter your head in a different order.

Before you have a chance to ask any more questions, you hear a door swing open behind you. You can hear the footsteps, but can’t turn around enough to see who they belong to.

“Do it.” You know that voice. You know you know it, but you can’t place it.

A man appears from your left. He stands in front of you, a mask covering his face so you can only see his eyes. “Let’s have some fun.” You’re ready for him to hit you. Or cut you. Or hurt you in any way. What you’re not ready for is him pulling a knife only to walk over to Cameron.

“No” The word is barely there. You aren’t even sure you said it out loud.

“Y/N, don’t tell them anything. Okay? I’ll be fine.” Cameron is looking at you with pleading eyes. You both know he’s lying.

“Your fiancé here is a liar.” The man sneers, dragging his knife down Cameron’s arm. “He will most certainly not be fine.” With that, the man plunges the knife into Cameron’s stomach. A gut wrenching scream leaves his mouth as the man moves the knife around inside his body. You try to control your reaction, but tears instantly spring to your eyes.

“Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll leave your man alone.” There’s no point. Cameron would never forgive you if you gave up information to the enemy. He’s always been a loyal soldier. Either way, deep down you know he won’t live much longer. He’s lost too much blood. You are going to have to watch the man you love die. He’s going to bleed out in front of you. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

You are shaken back to reality after the jet has landed. You slowly come to, realizing you must have fallen asleep while you were looking at the files. You can’t get the eyes out of your head now. The last time you had a nightmare was 6 months ago. Although, this was more of a memory than the usual nightmares you have.

“Y/N/N? You good?” Morgan is looking at you with concern that hasn’t been there since your first month on the job.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just groggy.” You try to laugh it off, walking past him and jumping into an SUV. You’re supposed to go with Hotch to the precinct to set up, so you can avoid the rest of the team’s questions for now.

You bury your head in the files again, trying to discern if anything feels off or if it is all too similar to be a coincidence.

“Just answer the question. This will all be over.” Cameron is dead. You are staring at his lifeless body as the man tries to torture you to get the answers he wants.

With all the strength you can muster up, you spit at him. “I didn’t break before and I won’t break now. Do what you want to me. You’ll never get your answers.” “Oh everyone’s got a breaking point. I’ll find yours.” With that, he storms passed you and out of the room.

You try to inventory the damage he’s done, but it’s hard because he typically drugs you when he leaves. You’re too disoriented to remember everything. You haven’t heard anything else from the first voice, but you finally realized it was the owner of the bar.

You are just about to drift back into unconsciousness when you hear a loud crash from somewhere in the building. You expect the masked man to come running back into the room, but instead you’re greeted with the face of the terrorist cell leader. He pulls you to your feet, mumbling about how this wasn’t part of the deal.

You don’t have the energy to protest as he pulls you down hallways and through doors. He bursts into a large open room. It smells like chlorine, but your eyes are too fuzzy to figure out why. The lights just got so much brighter, and you can’t see. You keep slipping on the floor. The third time, you fall to the ground. Everything is wet. He’s kicking you now. No, rolling you. It all feels distant. As if it’s not happening to you, but rather you are watching it happen to someone. Like a movie.

You hear the splash before you register the water surrounding you. You’re sinking. It’s actually quite warm. Like a comforting blanket tucking you into bed. The sounds of people yelling fade out as the water covers your head. You feel at peace as everything fades to black.

Suddenly, the peace is gone. You can hear voices. They sound loud, but still distant. Like you are swimming and someone is trying to talk to you from above the water. But the ground is hard now. There’s loud bangs too, but you can’t figure out what they are. There’s no pattern to them, but suddenly they stop. Maybe you’ll never know what they were, oh well. You just want to get back to the peaceful darkness.

Instead, you feel burning in your lungs and a pounding in your head. It feels like someone is punching you in the ribs. No. No. No. Where’s the peace?

All at once, the burning liquid is expelled from your lungs and your eyes fly open. You try to spin around, to see what’s happening, but everything hurts. Your lungs are trying to fill with air. Your eyes are trying to adjust to the lights. You head is begging everything to just stop making noise. Then, darkness. It’s not a peaceful transition this time. It’s sudden, as if someone turned everything off.

“Y/N?” The sound of your name draws you out of the memory again. You turn to see Hotch’s concerned expression. He’s parked the car outside of the station.

You take a few deep breaths before speaking, trying to prepare yourself for what you never wanted to have to do. “I have to tell them.” Hotch nods with a grim expression on his face.

“The team won’t judge you for keeping it a secret. We’ll all be there for you.” He tries to smile, but it’s more of a grimace. He’s too worried about you.

“I know. It’s not me I’m worried about.” For the first time since you met him, Aaron Hotchner looks confused. It’s actually kind of funny. Although, your laughing sounds more delirious than amused.

“Hotch, my first case with Spencer, do you remember it?” You shudder at the memory.

“Of course. It was hard on both of you.” Your smile feels weak, even to you.

“Well, I tried to check on him. I had only just met him, but he looked so sad. I wanted to take his pain away.” You can feel the tears coming, but you can’t figure out why. “He said unless I had been kidnapped, tortured, and drugged, shot multiple times, and witnessed the murder of the love of my life there was nothing I could do to help him.”

You can’t bring yourself to look at Hotch. His worrisome expression will just make you feel worse.

“You didn’t tell him.” The realization is evident in the lilt of his voice. Turning toward him, you try to explain, but he cuts you off. “He was listing trauma you’ve both experienced, and you didn’t tell him.”

“Of course not, he would’ve felt so guilty! He already feels so guilty and he has no idea. We talked it out, you know. We were actually becoming friends, although it was hard to see from an outside perspective.”

“You had me fooled. The two of you barely talk.” Hotch looks incredulous. You’ve never seen so many emotions on his face in one day, let alone one conversation.

“I know. It’s still new. Honestly, it happened yesterday.” Hotch actually chuckles at that. “I think he still feels bad that my first impression was him yelling at me. He’s going to feel so guilty, and I just wanted to keep that pain away from him. He doesn’t need my emotional baggage on top of his own.” You can’t read the expression on his face anymore. You can tell he’s thinking something, though he doesn’t intend to share.

“It’ll all work out in the end, Y/N. Reid is stronger than he looks. He’s been through a lot, but so have you. Let’s go catch this son of a bitch.” And the two of you exit the car as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

Your nerves build waiting for the rest of the team at the station. Spencer and Derek are last to arrive. You were hoping to have a few more minutes to figure out how to tell them all about the worst moments of your life, but alas the time has come.

Hotch clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. The conversations about theories die out as all eyes turn to him. “Y/N has a theory to share.”

That’s one way to put it. Before you can back out, you jump right in.

“The unsub was a for-hire torturer. I think he left the business and started killing for fun. A sadist. He enjoys the psychological torture of killing the one person you love more than anyone.” You can’t bring yourself to say another word. Spencer looks grief stricken. Everyone else is looking at you in confusion, except Hotch who is looking at you with sorrow. You can’t decide which is worse.

“What makes you say that?” Derek is the first one to speak. He clearly doesn’t understand why you came to that conclusion. Plus, he’s probably confused that Hotch had to introduce your theory rather than just include it in the brainstorming.

“Before I worked in violent crimes, I worked in the National Security division. I focused on domestic terrorism. We had a mission go wrong. It was supposed to be a simple, just gathering intel. Something went wrong and two agents were abducted.” You unconsciously decided to depersonalize the story. It’s something Hotch quickly caught on to, but what can he do about it? You just need to get the words out.

“They were a couple. Engaged. The man, he died from three precise wounds to the abdomen. He bled out while his fiancé was forced to watch.” You’re grateful when Emily interrupts.

“Did the woman drown?” The woman. You.

“No. Well, yes. She was dead for 3 minutes when they found her. The cell leader dumped her into a pool in the building she was being held in. They caught him trying to flee the building. When they questioned him about a partner, he said he hired someone to torture the couple to get information. He didn’t know where he went. I think that’s the unsub.”

Instantly, the team is theorizing. You stay quiet, listening. Where could he have hidden for this long? Were there more crimes in other states? Can Garcia look through unsolved double homicides that fit the signature? Before long, Derek asks the question you’ve been dreading.

“Can we interview the agent who survived?” You’re grateful that he’s looking at Hotch when he asks. Spencer, though, his eyes haven’t left you since you started speaking. He knows. You know he knows because you can see the weight bearing down on him. You tear your eyes away from him when Hotch clears his throat to get your attention.

“Y/N, can we interview the agent?” His tone is gentle. Hotch knows what he’s asking. Are you ready to tell them the truth? To share this pain with all of us?

“Yes. You can interview her.” You are visibly tense, but Morgan is just confused about the interaction. Why would Hotch need to ask you for permission? Why does he sound like someone just kicked his puppy?

“Great, when can she get here?” Of course, Morgan would ask the next logical question.

“She’s already here.” Your voice is quiet. He almost doesn’t hear you.

“What? Where?” He knows he’s missing something. It’ll only take him a few more seconds to put it together, but you save him the trouble.

“Right here.” You gesture to yourself, eyes flitting between Spencer’s and the ground. The rest of the team didn’t hear you. They were still working out theories as you, Morgan, Hotch, and Spencer converse in cryptic sentences and brief eye contact. Spencer is frozen in place. Hotch was stressed for you. It’s never easy to share past trauma, let alone when you feel like you don’t have a choice.

The realization hits Morgan so fast he almost falls to the ground. He rushes to you, pulling you into the tightest bear hug you have ever experienced. Morgan has become like an older brother to you. He always jokes about how he would beat up anyone who hurt you. You always joke right back about doing the same for him. He told you about Carl Buford a few months ago. It was also on a case. You would’ve told him everything then, but you didn’t want him to feel like you thought the two were comparable or that his trauma was somehow less important just because you’d been through some bad shit too.

His actions drew the attention of Rossi, JJ, and Emily though. You weren’t an overly emotional person usually. Undercover work made you good at compartmentalizing, so you never really sought out someone to comfort you. The sight of you in tears, wrapped in Morgan’s arms threw them for a loop. You normally waited until you got home to go through your routine to decompress. It was easier that way. But right now, the thought of even looking at Spencer was enough to bring tears to your eyes. You just couldn’t stop thinking about him. It felt weird, to be sharing such an intimate part of your life with everyone and still be thinking about him. You had moved on from it all though. You knew how to deal with it. Of course, you still love Cameron, but you talk about everything in therapy once a week so you won’t break down like this.

You see JJ look to Spencer for an explanation, but he’s too busy looking at you with more pain in his eyes than should be possible. He knows how it feels to see someone you love die right in front of you. He knows how it feels to try and move on from being drugged and tortured. He knows how it feels to be alone in it all. What he doesn’t know is how it feels to try and help someone through that grief only to have your own thrown back in your face. That’s what he did to you. Albeit, unintentionally but he did that. And it is so clear that he feels awful. You wish you could talk to him, but Morgan is pulling you into a different conference room for a cognitive interview that you somehow agreed to in your state of shock.

Hotch explains the situation to Rossi, Emily, and JJ. Spencer’s guilt only pushes further down on him when he hears it all again.

He stares at the room you’re in through the class doors of the conference room. He hasn’t moved in the ten minutes you’ve been gone. He expected JJ to talk to him first, but he was surprised to find Hotch instead.

“Y/N told me in the car that she was scared to share that story.” Hotch starts slow, trying to ease Spencer out of his own head.

“I would be too. It’s a painful memory to relive.” Spencer responds with a familiar tightness in his chest.

“She wasn’t worried about herself though.” Spencer’s head jerks up to meet Hotch’s stare.

“What do you mean? Who else would she be worried for?”

“You.” Hotch says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. You being worried about him when you share your darkest memories.

“Me?” Spencer practically falls out of his chair in an effort to sit up straighter. “Why would she worry about me?” Despite his genius IQ, he can’t fathom why you would worry about him in this scenario. If roles were reversed and he had to tell the story of watching Maeve die, he wouldn’t be worried about you. He slowly comes to the conclusion that he would be worried about you though. Now that he knows you’ve been through something similar, he would worry about you anytime it was brought up. Anytime anything remotely similar was brought up.

“She told me what you said to her on the jet after your first case together.” Spencer falls into himself at the memory, his guilt pushing his shoulders down. “She said you still feel guilty about it. That hearing the things she has been through would push all that guilt back to the surface. More than anything, she wanted to protect you from more pain.” Hotch seems to know more than he’s saying, but Spencer is too shocked to profile him.

“But, I, how would, but…” Spencer is muttering the beginning of every thought running through his head, but he can’t seem to form a complete sentence. “Why?”

“You’ll have to ask her.”

Between your cognitive interview and Garcia’s sleuthing, the team find the unsub rather quickly. You stay at the station when the team goes to catch him. You try to protest, but Hotch, Morgan, and Emily stare you down until you concede. Really though, it was the concerned look from Spencer that convinced you to sit down and wait. The case wraps up quickly after that. The masked man ended up being Kyle Beckett. A classic sadist.

It brings you more closure than you would have imagined to know he will be locked up for the rest of his life. You spent a lot of time in therapy trying to cope with the fact that he was never caught. And now, it’s over. You’re also extremely grateful you didn’t have to face him, although you would never admit that you were actually glad to stay behind. They can all tell though. They are profilers after all.

You can’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu at all the stares you’re getting on the jet. It’s as if time itself was rewound to a year ago. You feel like the newbie again. Getting ready to have a heart to heart with Spencer. You’d be blind not to notice the parallels of the two situations when Spencer slides into the seat next to you on the jet after everyone else falls asleep.

The silence is comforting at first, but quickly becomes unbearable.

“Hi” You have a sleepy smile on your face when you say it. You are unbelievably exhausted after everything that happened. Too tired to fully conceal the emotions you know you have been denying. You’re always happy when you talk to him, even if the occurrences are a bit far and few between compared to other members of the team. “You look sad.”

His mouth actually twitches upward at that statement, which you count as a win in your book. “You’ve been through hell on this case, and you’re still worried about me.” You can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s too good at hiding his thoughts inside that big beautiful brain.

“I’ve always worried about you. Ever since I met you. You just looked so sad and I wanted to make it stop.” You aren’t thinking before you speak anymore. Probably why Spencer suddenly looks so surprised.

“Is that why you didn’t want to tell me?” Now it’s your turn to look confused. How did he know that? “I may have talked to Hotch earlier…” It takes longer than you’d care to admit for you to understand what exactly Hotch told him. But still, you’re too tired to be bothered.

“I’m sorry if that was weird for you. It’s just, after we talked about it I thought maybe we could eventually be friends or something. I didn’t want you to be sad again. I know what it feels like to be sad. I also know what it feels like to be sad again when you realize someone else is sad for that same reason.” You must actually be exhausted because it feels like you’re talking in riddles. “Sorry, that doesn’t make sense. I just mean, I didn’t want you to feel bad about it again. I didn’t want you to feel more pain” You’ve started leaning toward him, about ready to pass out.

“You’re incredible. You truly are amazing. I don’t think a day will go by where I don’t feel awful for what I said to you, but maybe with enough time I can make it up to you.”

“I would like that.” You smile brightly as you look into his eyes. They seem sad still, but there is a brightness there that wasn’t there before.

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he lets you lay down in his lap as you drift off, the soothing feeling of his hands in your hair lulling you to sleep.

You wake up as the jet touches down. The memories of your conversation with Spencer bring a smile to your face. He looks down smiling when you shift in his lap.

“Thank you” You’re not surprised he still feels like he needs to thank you.

“I would do anything for you Spencer Reid.” You get up to collect your belongings, turning back only when you realize he hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

“Spence, let’s go.” Spence. He likes the sound of that. Maybe, just maybe the two of you will be okay.

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