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shamrockqueen · 9 months

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Thigh Rider

Pairing : Yuri Boyka X Reader

Warnings : PWP, Thigh riding, Thigh humping, dirty talk in a Russian accent.

Word count : 1239

AO3 Link

He traced his thumb over the quote as he read it over a second time.

У человека все в руках, и все ускользает сквозь пальцы от чистой трусости (Man has it all in his hands, and it all slips through his fingers from sheer cowardice.)

He would remember to hold onto all of the gifts he has been given thus far from now until the very end of his days. A warm bed, a loving home, and a beautiful woman that holds tightly in her hand the key to his once cold and icy heart.

She stood not far from where he sat, peering past the kitchen doorway and into the living room towards him, reading his book as he rested in an armchair.

He was strong, thick of frame, with short dark hair still shaved at the sides with a thick strip down the center as he always had it. A thachy goatee circles his pink lips as he runs his tongue between them in thought as his dark brown eyes search over each page.

You only stood by your hiding spot near the doorway as you watched him, envious of the simple hardback as it stole his attention from you. You craved what you greedily took every day to always have his eyes and hands on you. So much so that you wished he’d look up from his book and back at you.

As if he heard your thoughts, he did just as they asked, pulling his gaze from the pages and directing it towards you. You nearly tried to head under his now-heavy watch, ducking sheepishly towards the edge of the doorway.

He knew what you wanted; it was always too easy to tell. Whoever you hid from like this, it meant you wanted something naughty but couldn’t work up the courage to ask.

"Speak," he called out, his accent minimal with just the one-word phrase. His deep voice booming throughout the adjoining rooms. He didn’t like playing silly games with you. If you want something from him, you’ll have to ask; otherwise, you’ll go without.

"I-I just wanted to…to see you." You answered back, as meek as ever. He hated it when you acted fearful, like a shivering lamb standing before a snarling wolf. He was your cuddly bear, and you were his wily fox.

He set his book on the table beside him and gestured for you to approach. He needn’t ask twice, but at first you only hesitantly leave your perch by the doorway to approach him.

"Quit playing mouse. You make a far better pussycat." His voice came out as a low growl, a thick Russian purr erupting from his tightly gritted teeth.

You weren’t fooling anybody.

You trot over and nearly throw yourself onto his lap to cry like the spoiled brat you were. You only wanted his attention. You never felt more special than when you had all of him to yourself, so now that he was yours again, you buried yourself in the white cotton fabric of the chest of his thin tank top. It was coupled with the compressive gym shorts he’d worn when he worked out in the garage.

You were clad in one of your little white dresses and a pair of frilly white socks, but nothing else. It left your breasts to press freely against the soft fabric and your core to be grazed by the cool air of the room.

One of your legs is wedged between his so that your knee nudged his covered cock, but the other nearly dangled over his leg and off the chair, letting your bare pussy press to his equally unencumbered thigh.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, whimpering into his shoulder, "I just wanted some attention."

It wasn’t untrue, but he could tell you had wanted far more than a little of his focus, mainly by the way he could feel your slick little cunny pressing against his skin.

He bumps you with his leg like he’s bouncing you in his lap, making you little pussy rub against him faster than you had done yourself.

You whine just the way he likes. That shrill squeak let him know he could twitch at you however he wanted. But, what he wanted to see was you getting off all by yourself on his thick thigh.

"This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted to press your pretty pussy against me, right Kukla?" He spoke with a deep laugh as he looked over the beautiful display before him.

You nod vigorously with a "yes, yes please," all desperate as you palm his cock, only to have your fingers swatted away.

"You want to cum, do it yourself!" He huffed like an angry bull before bouncing his leg from under you, dragging it along your exposed flower, and ruffling your folds.

Your face turns a hot red as you do as you’re told, spreading your cunt slowly along his thigh before pressing hard and pushing your hips back up towards his pelvis.

"Good girl, Kukla" His chest rumbled as he spoke.

You give a whimper before dragging and pushing your hips again, making your little flower drool all over him. He’s goading you on as your pussy sucks at his bare thigh.

Your body shuttered with each drag of your hips and bump of his thigh. All while he looked down at you and chuckled to himself. This little game was fun, but the sight of you riding just his leg was driving him almost equally as crazy, making his cock stiffen from where it was tightly confined in his shorts. It was time to end this quickly so he could bury himself inside your sweet cunt.

"Cum, baby, I know you can." His words drip right off his tongue with a thick Russian drawl. It spurs you on to quicken your pace, chasing that sweet, fluttery release.

He bounces you on his knee as you try to shuck your cunt along his leg. As he’s grinning wolfishly down at you, his precious little doll is fucking herself against his leg like a horny brat.

You’re crying into the air as your nails dig into his skin, making him hiss. You shake your hips as his leg still shakes below you to tease you to your finish.

His little doll sings for him so shrill, loud, and beautiful that he could just wrap his thick, hard arms around you and grind you down on his leg until you’re creaming all over his skin.

Your movements are furious, but your mind is blinded by a burst of white lights, turning your little brain all hazy. You can’t think, and you only whine and cry as you spill slick all over his skin.

Your body feels too heavy to continue, but your hips propel you slowly as you ride each wave until it pulls you under and you're collapsing against his shoulder as he chuckles nice and low and hungry.

"Is my Kukla tired already?" He says as he pushes your hips off of his leg until you're further into his lap and your sensitive core is pressed against the hard bulge in his shorts, "You have no more energy for me?"

Like a dimming flame doused with kerosene, the drag of your cunt over the outline of his cock has you burning up for him all over again.

@annwoods91

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amypihcs · 6 months

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Bonsoir! Second part of this pretty spooktober story! Holmes and Watson are re-interviewing GK and they are NOT. AMUSED. Let's listen to the rich ass

Tell him Holmes! Teach this guy how a gentleman behaves when he has no blackmailer to catch!

Look at this! Holmes is a moment from STRANGLING this man.

SHE IS NOT AN OBJECT YOU BIG BASTARD! Holmes is taking the case only for HER sake, not sure for yours! And you ARE asking for criticism. I'm bonking him HARD over the head! With my chemistry universitary book (1.8 kilos)! (Also Watson is torn between tearing GK to shreds with his eyes and admiring his husband's FORMIDABLE self. Man's sooo much in love)

HE SAID IT! Assault or attempted assault CAN BE WORSE THAN MURDER. AND I HEREBY QUOTE THE LAST SENTENCE TOO.

Rich people, this was written at the beginning of 1900s and IT'S STILL VALID. Holmes is being so valid in this story.

Well, story gets explained, Holmes snarls a bit more and then off to the country to talk to the policeman. Watson favors us with some pretty description too, but i do believe i'm doing what holmes would do in omitting them.

Holmes OF COURSE REMITS ALL THE MERIT! Don't even worry, he's not like Scotland Yard. (Lestrade, yes, it's Holmes, let's postpone this week's thursday sleepover and dinner, ah yes, sorry i've a case, maybe on saturday?) Watson will publish a full account in a couple of years anyway, lol. People still trusting Watson to shut the hell up about the cases.

And incredible but true, even the local police is ANXIOUS to hold GK accountable for his actions! Godo. Come. Un. Riccio.

Let's see what we have here...

detectives detectiving for a while. And apparently we lost a pistol. GK is being very american in having so many firearms, no offence to my dear American mutuals but this is a part of what America looks like from Italy.

And we have to praise Holmes' intellectual honesty. It was sensible. Even if he's saying it through gritted teeth as every single letter was more painful to him than having his nails tore out. Chapeau!

Hey, nice and anxious cop, calm down. There's an overabundance of 'sir' there! Holmes is seeing some light in it? Apparently?

Let him sit and think... Meanwhile infinite thanks to Jeremy Brett that gave us Holmes walking on the parapet and having a lil lie down on the bridge. I loved that sce- WHAT'S THAT??!

Chipped! And even violence time served just to understand that it took A LOT of violence to chip the stonework. Interesting.

Now, let's hop at GK's, we have a nice examination of the arm-room and then our boys try to go to talk to the young lady. Let's have some considerations

Watson is having a Himbo moment... And Holmes is of course willing to explain. Of course, the place where the weapon was found is the key detail! In freeing her. Let me explain, dearest Watson

Holmes: -sigh- My husband will be never a good criminal. He's too honest. Watson, my darling, DO try and think like a character of your stories THIS ONE TIME.

BUT THE POINT STILL IS

-rubs hands- We have a NEW TRAIL! A new line of inquiry. Ah, the day's so beautiful, don't you all think?

Which line? Oh well, that comes with the end of the story!

#letters from watson #sherlock holmes #dr john watson #victorian husbands #Himbo Watson #well - only a himbo moment #Guy's a Hunk uwu #i'm very much liking this story

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anthony-sharma · 11 months

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Six of Crows Reread - Ch. 7

Next, Matthias’ first chapter!

Chapter 7: Matthias

“Matthias was dreaming again. Dreaming of her.”

Ok, first of...the beginning of that episode is just *chef’s kiss*. Also, the fact that his last episode in Crooked Kingdom begins like this one is just poetic.

“In the good dreams, he slammed her to the ground and throttled her, watching the life drain from her eyes, heart full of vengeance – finally, finally. In the bad dreams, he kissed her. In these dreams, she didn’t fight him. She laughed as if the chase was nothing but a game, as if she’d known he would catch her, as if she’d wanted him to and there was no place she’d rather be than beneath him. She was welcoming and perfect in his arms. He kissed her, buried his face in the sweet hollow of her neck. Her curls brushed his cheeks, and he felt that if he could just hold her a little longer, every wound, every hurt, every bad thing would melt away.”

Again, I’m curious as to how they will address this in the show. As I mentioned in the reread for the previous episode, episode 2.08 ends with Matthias calling out Nina’s name at Hellshow, as if startled to see her there, willing to get him out. But here, their relationship starts pretty much with him wanting her dead, so I don’t know if the spin off will follow what was set up in episode 2.08 ir if they will follow more the direction of the book, or maybe a combination of both.

“Nina,” he gritted out. She clawed at his hands. “Witch,” he hissed, leaning over her. He saw her eyes widen, her face getting redder. “Beg me,” he said. “Beg me for your life.”

I CANNOT wait for Calahan to act this scene. He’s great always, but seeing this rage is just gonna make me fan myself because it’s just gonna be too hot.

“Traitor, witch, abomination. All those words came to him, but others crowded in, too: beautiful, charmed one. Röed fetla, he’d called her, little red bird, for the colour of her Grisha Order. The colour she loved. He squeezed harder, silencing that weak-willed strain inside him.

[...]

“I don’t want your money. I’ll give you the plans for nothing.” It shamed Matthias to say the words, but he spoke them anyway. “If you let me kill Nina Zenik.””

Oh my God, Matthias really starts off in a dark place here. On the one hand, he hates her and wants her dead because of what she put him through, but on the other he loves her and is fond of her. That must make a number on anyone’s peace of mind.

On the second quote it can also be appreciated. On the one hand, he really wants to kill her (he choked her the first time he saw her) but he’s also ashamed of it, which means not even all of Brum’s brainwashing could shake away Matthias’ decency.

“Matthias’ head jerked up. He heard the thunder of footsteps from the arena, cresting like a wave as people burst into the passageway outside his cell. He heard the shouts of guards, and then the roaring of a great cat, the trumpet of an elephant.”

Were inmates supposed to fight ELEPHANTS?! Those fights were SO rigged there’s no way a person with a rusted knife could possibly win a fight against an elephant. And to know that Ketterdam’s Council approved of these fights is outrageous!

“They plunged across the sands where Matthias had fought for privileges for the last six months, but as they headed towards the tunnel, the desert lizard came pounding towards them, its mouth dripping foaming white poison, its fat tail lashing the ground. Before Matthias could think to move, the bronze girl had vaulted over its back and dispatched the creature with two bright daggers wedged beneath the armour of its scales. The lizard groaned and collapsed on its side. Matthias felt a pang of sadness. It was a grotesque creature, and he’d never seen a fighter survive its attack, but it was also a living thing. You’ve never seen a fighter survive until now, he corrected himself. The bronze girl’s daggers merit watching.”

First things first: It’s incredible how Matthias, even through everything he’s survived, still has decency and compassion where others wouldn’t. Compassion enough to feel for a monster.

Second of all, I hope they include the scene of Inej dispatching the lizard, that’s gonna be SO badass.

“Believe me when I say this, Helvar: I know getting knocked out and waking up in strange surroundings isn’t the friendliest way to start a partnership, but you didn’t give us many options, so try to open your mind to the possibilities.”

Omg a parallel between Kaz and Matthias! Kaz wakes up in Hoede’s house to be recruited to Van Eck’s mission and Matthias wakes up in the Crow Club to be recruited to Kaz’s mission in the Ice Court. I hope we can see both scenes in the spin off!

“Are you a magician, then? A wej sprite who grants wishes? I’m superstitious, not stupid.”

“You can be both, you know, but that’s hardly the point.” Kaz slipped a hand into his dark coat.”

When I say I cackled at this...Like, for real, their banter is top notch.

“Here,” he said, and gave a piece of paper to the bronze girl. Another demon. This one walked with soft feet like she’d drifted in from the next world and no one had the good sense to send her back. She brought the paper up to his face for him to read. The document was written in Kerch and Fjerdan. He couldn’t read Kerch – he’d only picked up the language in prison – but the Fjerdan was clear enough, and as his eyes moved over the page, Matthias’ heart started to pound.”

To learn a new language in prison must be hard! Matthias is one smart cookie.

On another note, is interesting that he also describes Inej as a demon, but then never addresses her as such again in the books. He maybe realized that her character was much more “docile” so to speak, than Kaz’s. I mean, without considering their own religious parallels and all that.

“But how could the merchant Kaz spoke of truly understand Fjerdan ways? If there hadn’t been a trial yet, there would be, and Matthias could easily predict the outcome. His people would never free a man with such terrible knowledge.

[...]

Brum would have laughed in their faces, torn that pardon to pieces. But Kaz Brekker was smart. He clearly had resources. What if Matthias said no and against all odds Brekker and his crew still found their way into the Ice Court and stole the Shu scientist? Or what if Brekker was right and another country got there first? It sounded like parem was too addictive to be useful to Grisha, but what if the formula fell into Ravkan hands, and they somehow managed to adapt it? To make Ravka’s Grisha, its Second Army, even stronger? If he was part of this mission, Matthias could make sure Bo Yul-Bayur never took another breath outside the Ice Court’s walls, or he could arrange for some kind of accident on the trip back to Kerch.”

Curiously enough, Matthias was right but also wrong on both accounts. First of all, he was right on the part that Fjerda would never have released Yul-Bayur. However, it wouldn’t have been because that knowledge was dangerous, but because they had the chance to use that knowledge to their benefit and they were not going to waste that opportunity. Point in case, what the Crows saw once they went into the Ice Court and how Fjerda ended up using Grisha in the battle against Ravka.

On another note, Fjerda is shown through Matthias’ eyes as the “righteous” country, and he think sthat it will be Ravka the ones who could possible adapt jurda parem and use it as a weapon. As we all know, given what happens in RoW, Fjerda is the one who ends up using jurda parem as a weapon and Ravka manages to develop a cure (with Kuwei’s help), so...who were the real villains here?

“Matthias nodded, and the bronze girl took a knife to the ropes binding him. “I believe you know Nina,” Brekker continued. “The lovely girl freeing you is Inej, our thief of secrets and the best in the trade. Jesper Fahey is our sharpshooter, Zemeni-born but try not to hold it against him, and this is Wylan, best demolitions expert in the Barrel.”

Okay Brekker, so Inej is a “darling”, and the treasure of his heart, and now also “lovely”? I see what you’re doing there, Kaz.

“For the first time, Matthias really looked at the people around him. What kind of team is this for a mission so perilous? Treason wouldn’t be an issue if they were all dead. And only he knew exactly how treacherous this endeavour might prove.”

Exactly my thoughts! A bunch of teenagers want to break into the Ice Court and actually manage to do it?

Anyway, that’s all for chapter 7. Next up, Jesper’s first chapter!

#six of crows reread #six of crows

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vellichor-d · 10 months

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book review: the outsiders

i know, i know. i'm so late to this book, i'm hella late. i'm 18 and this was my first time reading the book. i heard it was good, i heard all the things, but just never got around to it until now.

and i'm SO GLAD i did.

this book is one of the best books i've ever picked up in my entire life. i couldn't stop thinking about it whenever i had to put it down, these characters nestled and rooted into my brain and they're never leaving. ever.

from the plot, to the characterization and development, to the poignant questions the narrator was always asking himself. it was such an amazing book, and i just loved every second of reading it.

(SPOILERS BELOW)

★★★★☆

i give this book four out of five stars. i really wanted to give it five, but there were a few really little things that forced me to keep it from that perfect score.

the first little thing is that i personally find violence scenes to be really boring to read, and of course, with all the rumbles and the murder, there was a LOT of violence throughout the book that i just found myself skimming. i'm not sure if it was because of the author's way of writing it, or just a personal preference thing. either way, it wasn't my favorite thing to read.

i also personally just don't really like characters that are "babied" by everybody in the book. it just kinda makes me uncomfortable, but this didn't really bother me in this book as much as it does in other books because you could still tell that these "babied" characters had a lot of grit to them, and they weren't just wet noodles that people shoved around. i also think that in a way, it was just how greasers did things, protecting those smaller than them. it's not a huge issue for me, even though it usually is.

i LOVE every single one of these characters. the way the author writes each one with such duality, something that makes them undeniably good, something that makes them undeniably bad, and a lot of somethings that make them neither. it's amazing.

this doesn't come as a surprise to anybody who knows me, but my favorite character far and away is soda. i relate to him a lot.

this entire book was incredibly poetic at the least expected times. i never understood what "stay gold ponyboy" meant, but now i finally do, and it's such a meaningful quote. although honestly, i do think there are slightly more impactful quotes, and stay gold is ever so slightly overhyped.

also the whole thing at the end that shows that the outsiders as a book was ponyboy's english project was unexpected, and i honestly really liked it. it gave a new perspective to how it was written and worded, and i really liked that it made the whole thing feel more like ponyboy's story than a story about ponyboy.

anyway, i would 100% recommend this book, especially for someone who's in a reading slump or trying to get into classics!!!

#bookblr #reading #literature #book review #the outsiders #s.e hinton

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peachbear88 · 3 years

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The Greatest Love Story

A/N: Inspired by this lovely image I saw. I'm making this into a high school angst AU that takes place in like the 1900's. For the record, I know Steve isn't a bad person but this is an AU and I need one of those... You know, guys for this story so.... Yeah! Sorry! BTW, the second poem is not written by me, it's written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and I stole some quotes from Shakespeare.

Warnings: Angst, homophobia, swearing, character death.

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Reader

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You scale the ancient wooden stairs of your small school. avoiding eye contact with anyone. The stares you receive from others are painfully obvious as you speed walk towards the library, seeking shelter from the judgmental glances from your peers.

"Hello dear," the kind librarian greets you as you walk past her towards your corner of the library.

You don't respond, quickly ducking behind the massive shelves, hoping to spend as much time as possible in your safe space before the classes start. Placing back your old books, you scan the shelves, until a particular title catches your eye.

"Love Poems by Women?" You murmur, flipping through the worn pages.

----------

A giant dusty book lands on the librarian's desk, making her look up.

"May I take this out?" You ask, your tone emotionless, cold yet tentative. The librarian smiles gently at you handing you back the book.

"Of course dear. Happy reading." You give her a small, thankful smile before dashing out of the library door. The halls are partially empty, save for the kids that skip class, hanging around in the hallways and dark alleys after school.

You duck your head, avoiding eye contact as you pass the group leaning against the lockers, most importantly, the hazel eyed beauty that could snap your neck in half, Yelena Belova.

"Hey!" Your head snaps up. Big mistake. You lock eyes with the famed blonde and you drop your head immediately, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Y-Yes?"

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." She snaps. You peek at her from the corner of your eye, her sleek dress pants catching your eye.

"Interesting outfit choice," you note before you can stop yourself.

"What did you say?" She demands and you gulp, backing away.

"N-nothing." She slowly steps towards you, backing you into the lockers.

"Get to class. And don't ever let me see you again идиот (idiot)." You hurry down the hall towards your classroom, tripping in the process as you repeatedly look over your shoulder, watching as Yelena turns back to her friend group.

---------

"She was cute," Natasha points out as Yelena reclaims her spot leaning against the lockers. "Why do you feel the need to tease her so relentlessly?" Yelena rolls her eyes, grabbing the flask of vodka back from her sister.

"She's annoying. I don't like her." Natasha smirks.

"Sure. Whatever you say."

---------

You let out a sigh of relief when the bell rings.

Your classmates flood out of the classroom, jostling each other aside in their rush to get home. You quickly sprint out the door, eager to get home, safe and sound when a hand grabs you by the arm and pulls you into a dark alley behind the school.

"Hello there girly..." A deep voice says. You gulp. The boy steps into the light to reveal Steve Rogers. One of those people that take pride in hurting others, a bully, your tormenter.

"W-what do you want?" He smirks, stepping closer to you.

"Well, a little birdie told me that someone had an encounter with a specific blonde this morning." You flinch when he grabs you by the throat, pinning you to the wall. "You wouldn't happen to be... I don't know, one of those dykes would you?" Your eyes widen and you shake your head vigorously as he laughs. "Oh man," he sputters, choking through his laughter. "Wait till the school gets ahold of this-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence because a fist connects with his face, sending him reeling backwards.

"What the-" A strong hand wraps around his throat, pushing him backwards till his back connects with the wall.

"Listen to me you маленькое дерьмо (little shit), if you ever even think about coming near her again, I will sneak into your house at night, gut you like the fish you are and paint the school with them." Yelena warns in a surprisingly calm voice. Steve's eyes widen and he nods his head frantically until she lets go.

"Crazy bitch!" He spits, backing away quickly. You shuffle your feet, looking down at the ground as she watches him run.

"T-thank you." You mutter, not daring to look her in the eye. She sighs.

"This better not become a daily thing Y/L/N." You nod feebly. "Get out of here." You quickly pick your bag back up and sprint out of the alley, leaving Yelena by herself,

---------

"I'm home mom!"

"Welcome home sweetie!" Your mom pokes her head out of the living room.

"How's your book going?"

"As great as a woman writing a book can be." She chuckles forcibly. There's an awkward silence before she continues. "Your father came by today." She pauses as you swallow, feeling like something lodged itself in your throat.

"And what did he want?" She frowns at your tone.

"Sweetie, I know you don't like him but he's still your fa-"

"I don't have a dad," you growl, picking up your bag. "My dad died when he chose to abandon us." She watches as you climb up the stairs, sighing and rubbing her temple.

---------

You flop onto your bed, dropping the thick dusty buck onto the bed. You spend the rest of the afternoon reading through the poems until your mom calls you down for dinner.

It's an awkward dinner, quiet, only the sounds of dishes, chewing and utensils filling the room.

"I'm going to bed." You say after washing the dishes, not bothering to wait for a response.

That night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of your room.

"Love poems by women." You mutter, an idea popping into your head. You quickly sit up, flicking on your lamp and pulling out the book and a pen.

----------

"Good morning dear," the librarian greets you like she does every morning.

"I'd like to return this book." You reply coldly, passing her the book once again. She smiles gently at you.

"I hope you enjoyed your reading." She says while passing you, returning the book to its original shelf.

-----------

"Hello hon, can I help you with anything?" The librarian asks the dirty-blonde haired girl.

"No, thank you." The girl sends the librarian a tight lipped smile before returning her attention to the shelves. A ripped leather cover catches her attention. Love Poems by Women. She smiles, pulling the book from the shelf. Flipping open to the title page, a neat cursive catches her eyes.

Love flows between beings Gift from the gods Curse from the demons The missing part of every person Destined to be opposites Love is flexible Yet some seek to objectify love Love is not for the weak willed. - Aristophanes

The blonde haired girl hums, pulling a pen from her jacket's pocket and discreetly writing in the book, right next to the poem.

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

Terrible.

That's the only way to describe your day. You received your essay back, ecstatic to see that you had received an A. Steve on the other hand had absolutely flunked. Instead of dedicating his time to studying, he decided to beat you up as a way of taking out his frustration.

You ended up limping out of the women's toilet, your leg flaring up whenever you moved, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

"Hi sweetcheeks," the librarian murmurs, her eyes trailing down your injured leg.

"'Ello." You quickly duck behind the shelves, pulling out the book you were looking for. Your brows scrunch together in confusion as you see a messier scrawl next to your handwriting.

Reality hits hard

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

- Orpheus

You smile letting a light laugh slip from your lips. A sweet titter revealing the little girl underneath your cold, traumatized exterior.

Quickly, you grab your pen from your pocket and begin scribbling.

-----------

The air is knocked from your body as your back makes contact with the floor.

"Listen here dyke. I don't like you alright," Steve growls into your ear as Tony cracks his knuckles. "So here's what's going to happen: Everyday you're going to meet us here and," he pauses, cracking his neck. "Help us relive some stress." He smiles wickedly before punching you in the stomach, making you double over in pain.

Your eyes flutter shut as they deliver blow after blow 'till they finally stop. You tentatively open your eyes to see Yelena tackling Steve to the ground as Tony stares at them, eyes wide.

"I. Told. You. To. Leave. Her. Alone!" She screams, pummeling Steve with her fists. He groans, unmoving. You watch in terror as Tony picks up a trash can lid, sneaking up behind her as she punches Steve in the face.

"Watch out!" You scream, taking Tony as well yourself by surprise. She looks up to see you slamming into Tony sending him flying into the nearby wall of the alley.

He crumples, unconscious.

"Are you okay?" You mumble, limping towards Yelena, who's clutching a blood gash on her arm.

"'M fine,' she grits out. You shake your head, grabbing her wrist. She flinches but doesn't push you away.

"You're not okay. Let me help you." You plead. She stays silent and you quickly take her silence as a yes, leading her to the front steps of your home. You rummage through your back pack, finding a large wrap of bandages that you kept after your daily beating from Rogers and his friends.

She winces as you wrap her wound swiftly.

"Gentle!" She growls and you stare back at her defiantly.

"Well maybe if you would stop moving, it'd hurt less!" You retort and she shuts up, staring off into the distance. You dab the cut with a small bit of alcohol before wrapping the bandage all around her arm.

"Thank you." She whispers, giving you a small smile. Reaching out, she gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you flinch back. You quickly, shovel the bandages and medicinal alcohol back into your pack, not noticing the hurt look on her face.

"No problem. The least I could do since you saved me." You reply bluntly, swinging the bag over your shoulder and slipping through the door.

"Wait-" She sighs as the door slams shut in front of her.

You exhale, leaning against the door as you try to catch your breath.

-----------

Yelena sighs exasperatedly, tugging at the collar of her dress shirt.

"What's wrong little sis?" Natasha smirks, plopping down next to her.

"I got hurt and Y/N patched me up." Natasha jumps up, eyes wide.

"You stained your new shirt?" She groans shaking Yelena violently. "God I'm going to kill you!" Yelena grabs her sister, stopping her.

"You're missing the point!"

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Nat challenges, flopping back down on to the couch.

"She patched me up!" Nat's eyes widen.

"Oh. Oh." She inches closer to her sister, nudging her playfully, much to Yelena's dislike. "So are y'all like," she winks at her sister insinuatingly. "A thing?" Yelena scrunches her brows in confusion.

"A thing?" Nat rolls her eyes, sidling closer to her.

"Yes. A thing. An item? Lovers?" She shrugs, missing the way Yelena blushes.

"In her dreams," Yelena snorts, leaning back into the couch.

"If you say so..."

-----------

"Morning pumpkin!" The librarian chirps.

The blonde girl ignores her, breezing past her towards the the shelves at the very back, peeking over her shoulder quickly before pulling an old, leather bound book from the shelf.

She flips the leather cover aside to reveal the title page. Next to her messy, distorted scrawl was a neat, distinctive cursive once again.

Speak low if you speak love

- Aristophanes

She smiles gently, chuckling as she shakes her head.

"Shakespeare of all people," she whispers, her accent thickening. Pulling a forgotten pen from the shelves, she begins writing,

-----------

The highlight of your day became going to the library and reading the little messages scrawled in between the margins of the book by Orpheus. Like:

If music be the food of love, play on

Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love.

They made you smile on a daily basis, sometimes even eliciting a rare light laugh.

"Good morning sweetpea." The librarian greets you, not expecting a response. To her surprise and yours, you muster a small smile and a wave.

"Hello." You can feel the librarians shocked eyes following you as you round the bookshelf corner to find Steve, eyes wide, mouth open in shock as he stares down at something in his hands.

Your heart plummets. A book with a soft leather cover, yellowed pages. The book of poems.

You lunge for it but he step sides you swiftly, raising the book above his head.

"Speak low if you speak of love huh? I'm not surprised you know Shakespeare, you're such a nerd." He sneers, waving the book above his head.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." You stutter, backing up. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt, lifting you into the air.

"Don't fuck with me!" He growls, dropping the book and kicking it to the side. "Who's Orpheus?"

"G-Greek hero. Musician." You stutter and he slaps you, hard. You can feel your cheek swelling under his fiery gaze.

"Don't even try me. Who. Is. Orpheus?"

"I don't know, I swear!" You mutter, wincing when you accidentally bite your cheek.

He drops you, watching as you scramble to your feet, backing away.

"This isn't over you little shit. I'll be back for you," he warns, giving your book one last kick for good measure before storming out of the library with Tony and Bucky on his heels.

You fall to your knees, silently sobbing as you crawl over too the book, dusting it off and hugging it to your chest.

Yelena sighs, her heart breaking as she watches you curl around the book protectively, lying on the floor.

-----------

"Where are you going?"

Yelena turns to find Nat, leaning against the school stairwell doorway, watching her.

"Just up to the roof. Need some fresh air," she lies, avoiding Nat's gaze. Nat lifts Yelena's chin up, staring into her eyes, boring into her very soul. Yelena squirms under her gaze until she finally lets go.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." She smiles sadly at her little sister. "Just-" Her voice cracks as she pats her sister's shoulder. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Don't worry. I won't." She gives Nat a brief hug before hiking her pants up and starting up the stairs.

-----------

"Ah, well look who decided to join the party!" You look up from the ground to see Yelena, your eyes clouded with pain.

"No..." You croak but Steve pays no attention to you.

"Come to save your love Yelena?" He sneers, dropping you to the ground. "Or should I say... Orpheus?" Your eyes widen as you watch him advance towards her, pushing her closer to the edge of the roof.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She deadpans and Steve chuckles.

"Sure. If you won't admit, I'll just have to settle for destroying you from the inside out instead." He grabs her by the arm. "I haven't forgotten what you did to me." He points at a long thin scar along his jawline.

You watch as Tony sneaks up from behind Yelena, striking her with a metal bar. She crumples, falling to her knees.

"Hold her." Steve directs and Bucky dutifully grabs you by the arms. He holds Yelena's chin in between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. "Now you watch as I destroy the one thing you love the most." Tony tosses his the metal bar and Steve prepares himself before swinging it like a baseball bat.

There's a sickening crunch followed by your scream as the bar makes contact with your ribs.

"Stop!" She struggles, her eyes never leaving your broken body as he hits you over and over again. "Please! Leave her alone!"

Steve smiles evilly, locking eyes with her before swinging the bat again. Another scream. Blood trickles down your face from your nose.

"Is that right? Did the famous Yelena Belova just beg me?" He smiles cruelly before pushing you down on your back, his foot on your chest. You scream as he increases the pressure, your broken ribs digging into your lungs.

Yelena screams, kicking Tony's legs out from under him before punching Steve in the jaw. She grabs the iron bar before it hits the ground, clobbering Bucky in the stomach before kicking Steve in the stomach.

"ты сука (you bitch)!" She steps on his face swiftly, taking satisfaction in the groan of pain he emits before turning to you, gently cradling your face.

"Wow... That was pretty badass," you mumble and she laughs, tearing up. You reach out, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Don't cry." She frowns.

"I'm not crying."

"You are too." You smile, wincing in pain. "I didn't know you knew Shakespeare."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let this happen." You frown, caressing her face, forcing her to look at you.

"Hey, hey. It's fine. Don't worry. I'll be fine." You attempt to smile reassuringly but it comes out as more of a grimace. "Listen, if I don't make it-"

"Don't say that! You can't leave me!"

"Shush, listen you thickheaded poet. If I don't make it, go back to the book." You instruct her. She frowns but you can her off. "Promise me."

"But-"

"Promise me."

"I promise..."

"Good." You smile at her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, your eyesight blurring. "Wait for me okay?" Your eyes flutter shut.

"No! No Y/N! Come back!" She shakes you roughly, sobbing when you don't respond.

----------

Yelena watches as your body is carted off under a white sheet. Nat stands to the side, watching as her sister stares off into the distance, all life drained from her body.

Go back to the book.

She stands, slowly trailing towards the library, her eyes bloodshot, cheeks caked with dry tears.

"Hi dear," the librarian greets her, discreetly wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. "What a shame. She was a lovely girl."

"She really was the best." Yelena agrees quietly, giving the librarian a small, comforting pat on the back before moving to the back of the library where she finds the book, lying on the floor.

Yelena,

I believe that we are the greatest love poem ever written. I love you always,

Y/N

A choked sob escapes her lips as she stares at the page. You knew. You knew the whole time and you didn't even say anything. A pair of soft arms wrap around Yelena's stomach as she lets go of the dam, her cries echoing throughout the library.

"I'm sorry..."

I'm sorry...

----------

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot @olsensnpm @peabrain112

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

Fools in Love

Summary: He can explain how String Theory works. He can figure out Riemann Hypothesis. He can recite all the numbers of pi until he’s blue in the face. Yet somehow, Spencer Reid can’t figure out what to do for his first first anniversary.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Warnings: Spencer Reid is a self-deprecating mf, Jane Austen quotes? But there’s a happy ending

Word Count: 3128

Fools in Love

He scratches the back of neck, a nervous habit that he’s sure makes him look weak. He wants to find the perfect recipe to make a wonderful meal for Y/N. It’s his first first anniversary so Spencer’s completely lost as to what to do. Y/N deserves the most romantic dinner, especially considering how much chaos he causes. It must be a lot to put up with him, Spencer thinks. He’s even more useless when it comes to love than when it comes to cooking. While he might not be a fan of technology, given he has the Thai place down the street from his apartment on speed dial. She doesn’t deserve some take out Thai with paper plates. But he’s a scientist, a well-known and well-educated scientist who is completely failing at planning his first anniversary.

It was useless. Completely and utterly useless, Spencer thought to himself as he ran his fingers across the various titles of cookbooks. Some featured complex dishes from Korea and others were 30 minute meals of the vaguely Midwest variety. Spencer never in his entire 33 years of living felt so out of place in a library. He’s so at home in between the stacks of books, he finds the comforting words of long dead authors and intricate mathematical theories a second home. However, it seems that Spencer Reid has found the most intimidating section of the library: cooking.

And what do academics do when they are at a crossroad? Well, they call in the experts. The love expert came in the shape of Agent Derek Morgan himself. This idea just might be the most brilliant thought Spencer’s had or the dumbest, but Y/N is worth it.

Okay, maybe it was a mistake to come to Derek, Spencer thinks as he sits in front of his friend, a coffee in his hand and an expression of pure fear on his face.

“You want me to, what?” Spencer asks, shocked at Derek’s suggestive advice.

“Lie in bed naked, call Y/N on the phone and make something up. You’ll be waiting in bed and then BAM! Anniversary sex,” Derek says, his eyebrows wagging as he sips his coffee.

“Are you messing with me, Morgan?” Spencer says, his face pale from the very thought of lounging in bed naked, waiting for Y/N to come over to his apartment.

“Why not, I’m sure it would get you laid,” Derek reasons. Get me laid? Spencer and Y/N don’t get laid, he thinks. They do have sex, but it’s not getting laid. It’s more romantic and loving than just whatever Derek suggests.

God, he can’t tell Derek that, he’d never live it down.

“You have slept with Y/N, right?” Derek asks, suddenly nervous that he touched a nerve with his friend. As much as he likes to tease, Spencer knows that Derek doesn’t mean any harm, hence why he’s the first person he thought to come to.

“We prefer to call it making love,” Spencer says, pretending to be very interested in his chocolate donut and trying to fight off the blush that rises to his cheeks. Even a year into their relationship, Spencer still gets butterflies at thinking about Y/N like that.

“So you want this to be more romantic than just fucking, because you’ve done it for a year?” Derek proposes as simply as if he’s talking about a case. Not that talking about serial victims is anymore normal or weirder than the current conversation.

“Morgan and you please stop talking about Y/N and sex in the same sentence?” Spencer says through gritted teeth.

“Reid, kid. I’m just busting your chops, I know who you feel about Y/N. When you two are in the same room, it’s like there’s no one else in the world. And it’s kinda hard to get your mind to focus on one thing, but Y/N does that,”

“I know,” Spencer says. “I can’t mess this up Derek. I can’t give another person a reason to leave me,”

“Y/N won’t leave because you can’t plan a terrible anniversary dinner,” Derek says comfortingly.

“I checked out 7 cookbooks, Morgan. 7, and I read them on the metro home. It’s useless, I’m useless,” Spencer laments.

He looks up to try to read Derek’s expression. The last thing he’d want to see on his face is pity or worse laughter. No, Spencer. Derek is your best friend. He’s the closest thing you have to a brother. Spencer feels almost guilty for thinking that Derek would laugh at him, while he might like to tease him, especially about his lovelife, they trust each other inexplicably. What’s written on Derek’s face is not pity or ridicule, it’s a smile. A smile not for Spencer, but for the colorful woman walking towards their table.

“You told Garcia?” Spencer groans, but scooting over so Penelope would have a spot to sit with them.

“Of course I told Garcia, kid. You know better than anyone that we can’t keep anything secret,” Derek explains, leaning in to kiss Garcia’s hand.

“Spencer Reid! I can’t believe you,” Garcia says, smacking Spencer’s arm lightly.

“Garcia!” Spencer shouts, clutching his coffee and hunching down in his seat to avoid being hit by the tech goddess with her hard rings on her surprisingly strong hands.

“Don’t Garcia me, Reid. You need me, whether or not you realize it or not. I’m irreplaceable,” she tells him, grabbing a pink notebook and a fluffy green pen from her bag.

Spencer nods in understanding, as much as he hates it, he knows that he needs help. It’s just a hard pill to swallow when help comes in the form of Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia, perhaps the two people on Earth who are the most in love.

“I know I need you guys,” Spencer says, looking from Garcia to Derek, half expecting them to tell him to order some terrifying sex toy from a scretchy store on the edge of town or something equally horrifying.

“What’s something that she likes? You know like a special thing that Y/N would never think about getting herself” Garcia asks, making notes with the fluffy when that bounces as she writes.

“She likes to read,” Spencer suggests, thinking about the first date that they had. They talked for hours about their favorite books and ended up getting booted from the library for overstaying their welcome. Y/N found it quite endearing that The Little Prince is Spencer’s while her is anything and everything by Jane Austen. He thinks back to her eyes gleamed when talking about the book, or how passionate she got when she argued that Mr Knightley and Emma were soulmates.

“Okay, that’s a start Spencer. Really good,” Garcia says, trying to boost her friend’s confidence.

“What else?” Derek asks, thinking about the times when he and Y/N hang out with Spencer and Penelope.

“Fret not, Boy Wonder,” Garcia says, softly patting Spencer’s shoulder, “I’ll take care of this,” she finishes as she reaches into her bag, that seems to have a never ending bottom, and pulls out a laptop.

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

“So Garcia and Morgan took over your anniversary plans and basically just made it how they’d want to spend their anniversary?” JJ offers, as she hands Spencer a beer from her refrigerator and sits back down at her kitchen table.

Spencer takes a swig of his beer and shrugs his shoulders, thinking about how wrong this whole anniversary dinner has gone.

“I just wanted this to be special, JJ. I know it’s only been a year, but Y/N is it for me. God, she was it for me on the third date,” Spencer confesses.

“I know, Spence. I’ve never seen you this happy. Happiness looks good on you,” JJ tells him.

“Y/N makes me happy, she puts up with me, so the least I can do is make this perfect for her,”

“Spence, don’t sell yourself short,” JJ says, “You’re a kind man and a wonderful boyfriend, you’re both lucky to have each other,”

“Thank you, JJ, but Y/N is the better person in this relationship. That’s why this needs to be perfect,” Spencer explains, his self doubt still littering his mind.

“What about a baseball game? You can pay for a message to pop up on the Jumbotron. Like Happy Anniversary, Y/N,” JJ suggests, and Spencer really can’t tell if JJ is joking. She can’t possibly think that Y/N and he would have a romantic anniversary with the threat of getting pelted in the face with a baseball.

“Sports games are not our forte, JJ. I honestly can’t tell who’d hate sitting in the sun for hours with angry sports fans,” Spencer adds.

“Okay so no sports, I should have figured, Spence,” JJ winks knowingly. “How about this, think about somewhere that’s special to you two. Somewhere that makes you think of her,”

“The thing is JJ, everyplace we’ve been together makes me think of her. The elevator when she first kissed me, the movie theater we always go to on Saturday nights, even the sidewalk outside my apartment building. Everything makes me think of her because she’s my everything,” Spencer says, hiding his discomfort at the conversation.

“Spence, I think that anything you plan, will be wonderful. Have a little trust in yourself for once, Y/N is already head over heels in love with you, so I doubt that she’d really care where you go or what you do,” JJ advises, clearing up the dirty dishes from their Friday night pizza dinner with the boys.

“I’m going to go JJ, thanks for talking me out of my head. If I took Morgan’s advice, I’d probably end up with a restraining order,” Spencer jokes, putting his jacket on and saying goodbye to his friend.

“You think you need an Uber?” JJ asks, but immediately finds amusement from Spencer’s disgust at the idea of getting into an Uber.

“Germs and technology sound like a nightmare, JJ. And I’m not going to remind you of the statistics regarding missing persons and those rideshare apps-” Spencer offers, but is cut off by JJ’s pretend annoyance.

“Remind me to send Y/N combat pay, you know maybe she is a saint for putting up with you,” JJ teases.

He walks out into the chill of the night, recounting the advice his friends gave him. Derek and Penelope’s plan was a little outlandish, a little too much for Spencer and Y/N. JJ, who Spencer knows means well, only served to remind him of how hard it must be with him. His steps are slow and languid, but his mind anything but.

One step, you’re probably just a charity case that Y/N decided to save.

Two steps, why on Earth would a woman like her even look at a man like you.

Three steps, you’re so pathetic that you can’t even plan a dinner for her. She’s too good for Spencer, you’ll ruin her.

Everyone who you love leaves you or dies, anyway.

It’s that thought, not the thought of being alone, but the thought that he deserves to be alone that sends the tears down his cheeks.

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

Somehow, someway, Spencer made it back to his apartment. It never felt so dark, so unlike home. Maybe he just didn’t never realized that these walls aren’t home without Y/N. He really should try to get to sleep, but he’d rather fend off sleep with the endless supply of coffee than have to face a night alone in the cold bed.

Just as Spencer makes his way to prepare a cup of coffee, he hears a distant jiggle of keys and the door knob rattle. And in comes Y/N, as fresh as the cup of coffee brewing and as beautiful as ever.

“Happy Anniversary, my love,” Y/N tells him, dropping the bags on the floor. She moves over to him like a light breeze. All he wants is to welcome her embrace. He wants to scoop her up and carry her far away from the monsters that lie in wake. He feels an urge to be her protector, but how can be her protector when what he really wants is to be protected.

“Y/N, what are you doing here, it’s so late,” Spencer says, praying that his voice doesn’t let go. He knows it’s futile, one look from Y/N, her palm to his cheek or even worse a chaste kiss on his forehead, Spencer would not be able to think. What is a genius without his mind?

“I couldn’t wait for tomorrow, Spence, I just missed you too much,” Y/N says, her voice a prayer that spins around in Spencer’s brain, searching for refuge in his heart.

“You really missed me?” Spencer asks, desperately wanting to believe her beyond belief. Y/N’s frown searches for an answer in Spencer’s distant expression. Even though they stand there with the kitchen light casting shadows touching as much skin as they can reach, Spencer is a million miles away.

“Of course I missed you, baby. And I just had to give you one of your gifts tonight. I just couldn’t wait to see your face,” Y/N says, practically bouncing as she bounds off to get the package for Spencer.

“So this is only the first part, and stay with me, I know how much you hate technology, but I think you’ll make an excuse for this,” She tells him, handing him a heavy cube shaped package. It’s decorated in Y/N’s handwritten flowers and hearts, and a cute doodle of who Spencer can only assume is them. His girlfriend may not be artistic. But she’s the artist who paints the stars in Spencer’s night sky. She’s the tailor who sewed him back up when he was broken. She’s the architect who has the key and blueprint to his heart.

Spencer opens the gift, his hands shaky and unsure. He’s terrified that Y/N can see right though him. He reveals the present. It’s a small wooden box with a red wooden heart that looks like it’s supposed to be pixelated. There’s a blank space on the top, that Spencer supposes is a screen.

“You gotta plug it in, Spence. So the messages can pop up. When you're far away from me saving the world, I can type a message from my phone and it’ll appear on your box,” she explains. Spencer looks up at her trying to search for what he did to get this lucky.

“Thank you, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Spencer tells her, placing a kiss against her forehead. It’s the kind of kisses that tell you so much more. It’s the kind of kiss you give when you know there’s more where that one came from. It’s safe and warm and everything good about this world.

“I gotta make sure you won’t forget me when you go traipsing all over the country. A hot genius like you only comes around so often. I’m sure you got loads of attractive people throwing themselves at you, Spence,” she says with a wink.

“Hot genius?” Spencer repeats half dumbfounded and half joking.

“Yup, I gotta make sure they know that you’re spoken for,”

“I couldn’t forget you even if I tried, Y/N. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. I still don’t know what I did to ever deserve you,” Spencer says, as the tears and the fears of not being good enough bubble to the surface.

“Spencer, baby. You’re shaking. What’s the matter? Huh,” she says softly, brushing her hand over Spencer’s head in a comforting and loving gesture.

Spencer leans into her, his head pressed into her neck. He can hear her heartbeat and he can smell her perfume. He wants to get lost in her. Get lost in the feeling of total and complete love.

“I just wanted this to be perfect, Y/N. For you- you deserve so much more than I can give. It must be so hard dating me. I know that I’m difficult to love sometimes,” Spencer murmurs, his tears pouring down his cheeks and spilling like his darkest thoughts onto Y/N’s shirt.

“Spencer, you make my life so much brighter. So much fuller. I know that you got a lot going on up in that mind of yours and it must be kinda scary. It must be hard always being the guy people expect answers from. But I got you, sweetheart. And I’m not letting go,” Y/N tells him the words falling from lips like a psalm and taking on a new life in Spencer’s heart.

“Thank you, Y/N. I really wanted this to be the best anniversary. I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” Spencer apologizes as he peppers light, feathery kisses along her collarbone and up to her eyes.

“Well you’re my mess, Spencer. Let’s be honest, I’d be completely happy to spend our anniversary anywhere with you. Except maybe sports games, that sounds like torture for both of us,” Y/N laughs and Spencer can’t get over how she practically glows in the kitchen light. It could be that his mind is foggy with love, but Spencer hopes that he never grows out of this blissful feeling.

“Well it’s a good thing we’ll have many more to make up for this one,” Spencer says, letting himself get dragged to the large fluffy sofa.

“Oh no, Mister. The next 50 anniversaries have to try to top this one,” Y/N tells him and Spencer’s heart skips and flutters at the thought of having another 49 anniversaries with Y/N by his side.

“I doubt that 50 will be enough, Y/N”

“As long as you’ll allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” Y/N says, cuddling so close to Spencer that she can’t see where her limbs start and Spencer’s end.

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more,” Spencer says running his spidery fingers down Y/N’s side much to her delight.

“Ooh are you trying out some Jane Austen foreplay? Because that’s the way to make my panties drop,” Y/N says suggestively as she rubs her hand over Spencer’s chest and rests it on his neck.

“Maybe tomorrow, I just really want to hold you close right now, Y/N.” Spencer says, sweetly kissing along her temple exciting a bout of giggles from the two of them.

Spencer very well might be useless when it comes to love, but he was eager to learn that he’s worthy of love from his love expert.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader

330 notes · View notes

mediocre-writerr · 3 years

Text

always and tomorrow [jennifer jareau]

jennifer jareau x reader

requested: Hey! Could you do a JJ imagine where the reader is a famous author who an unsub is targeting but the team doesn't know that the reader is infact dating JJ? The reader is upset that she won't tell the team and thinks JJ is ashamed of her but it's all fluff once jj saves them from the unsub?

*not my gif*

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask and he will tell you the truth- Oscar Wilde

“Y/N?” you turned around from where you were standing.

You looked at the blonde girl who has invaded your heart, a smile grazing over your face. The rest of her team right behind her, “Guys, you know Y/N Y/L/N,”

Hotch extended his hand out, “Yes we’ve met a couple times,”

“Hello, Aaron,” you gave him a small nod, before sitting on the edge of the signing table for your new book, “To what do I owe the great pleasure of my favorite government team?”

“We think you’re being targeted,” Reid speaks up and you cross your arms over your chest and nod.

“The unsub is targeting people who look exactly like you, around the same age. And they have been using your quotes from your books, along with murdering them the same way your serial killer in your story has been doing,” Emily continued further explanation.

You nodded, “So I’m assuming, I’m heading down to Quantico to stay protected,” All of them nodded, “Alright, but I’m expecting lunch,”

Back at the bureau, the rest of the team was scouting for where the unsub may strike next, but JJ was talking to you in her office, to see if she could get any information.

“So you have no idea who this could be,” the blonde asked and you shook your head.

“I’ve seen a lot of people at these book signings, none of them really screamed serial killer to me,” you explained and she looked stressed out.

So you did what you always did when you were over at her house and she was stressed. You walked over to her and placed your hands on her cheeks, rubbing soothing circles on them. But she immediately pulled away and you let out a sigh, already knowing what this meant.

“You still haven’t told them?” you asked, dropping your hands down to your side.

“No, I haven’t found the right time,” she tried to make up some lousy excuse, usually you’d let it slide, but not today.

“The right time?! JJ, we’ve been dating for almost a year now! When will it ever be the right time?” you flailed your hands up in the air and she let out a sigh, “Look, I know your divorce with Will was rough and I know this is new to you, but if you’re so ashamed to the point where you won’t even tell your second family, then- I don’t know if I could do this much longer,”

You start to walk out of her office, “Where are you going? You can’t leave!” she called out.

“I just need air,” you told her before walking out of the bureau.

The air was a bad idea because all of a sudden you couldn’t breathe. Not because you were so angry or because you were crying so much, but because someone threw a bag over your head and hit you out cold.

“Where’s Y/N?” JJ asked, looking around the room. It had been quite some time since she went to get air.

As if on cue, Morgan comes running in, “I found her ID on the floor outside, I think the unsub has gotten to her,” JJ’s heart dropped, but she threw on her professional look as her and the team got to work.

You awoke in a dark place which looked like a place ripped right out of your novel. The man was sitting there, patiently, reading over your infamous new book.

“Oh good morning sleepy head,” he said with a cheerful smile on his face, “I love your new book!”

You scrambled in fear, shaking your head, “Please, please don’t hurt me,” you begged.

“Sweetheart, why would I hurt you? I know how you feel about me and I feel the same way about you. We’re meant to be,” he told you, caressing your hair soothingly.

“What makes you think that?” you asked him, trying to remember all the tips JJ would bombard you with when you went on a book tour and would run into creeps like this.

He pulls out another book from his bookshelf, the familiar binding and cover of the first ever book you wrote, “Because you wrote this darling, don’t you remember?”

To: Marcus

Spread love, always and forever

“So I’m spreading your love, no our love, to the rest of the world. By recreating all the iconic scenes in your book,” he told you and you shrunk in your seat.

What have you done?

JJ’s leg was bouncing up and down as they drove as quickly as possible to the unsub’s house. Emily and Derek picked up on it quickly.

“Alright JJ, you’ve been bouncing your leg like you’re Reid about to participate in any sport, ever. What’s going on?” he asked.

JJ let out a sniffle, “She said forever and I just pushed her away, I ran,” she mumbled, but it was clear as day.

“Who said forever?” Emily asked.

“Y/N, I’ve been in love with her for almost a year now. And I never told anyone and the last thing she thought of me was that I was ashamed of us,” she whispered.

That’s all it took for Derek to step on the gas.

Marcus Green, the unsub, was just sitting and reading the book to you. As you were tied up and the rope burned your wrists at the slightest movement. You heard the door bust open and he looked up from his seat.

“What was that?” he asked with his teeth gritted. He grabbed you from your seat, hiding underneath the staircase. A gun pointed at your head.

You could hear soft patters, come down the stairs, and the unsub steps out from the shadows, clearing his throat. You could feel the gun shake in his hand, your eyes landed on JJ’s and you just shook your head.

“No,” you pleaded, but your cries were muffled by the rag he kept in your mouth.

JJ turned with her gun pointed right at him. Her eyes slightly red and watery at the sight of you. You weren’t in too bad shape, but she never wanted to see you in this position.

“Marcus Green, put the gun down,” she ordered and you heard more patters come down the stairs. The rest of the team had him surrounded.

He shook his head, “No, we’re in love. You can’t take that away from me!” he yelled.

“Look at her,” JJ said to him, “You’re hurting her,”

“No, I’m not! Am I hurting you?” he asked and you looked at JJ who gave you a subtle nod. You nodded frantically, he looked taken aback by your answer, “I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry,”

“I know you don’t want to hurt her Marcus. So you’ve got to let her go,” she told him, “We don’t mean to hurt the one’s we love, but we do and it sucks. But at the end of the day deep down you both know your love for each other and that’s all that matters,”

Marcus was fighting a constant battle in his head, crying to himself softly before letting you go. You automatically ran over towards where Spencer was and he immediately brought you upstairs to be checked by the paramedics.

JJ quickly followed suit as Hotch arrested him. She ran up to where you were sitting at the edge of the ambulance. She looked at you with a smile before sitting down next to you.

“She doesn’t have too bad of injuries, just a couple rope burns around her wrists and a concussion, but she’s fine,” the paramedic told JJ and she nodded thanking him.

You rested your head on JJ’s shoulder before immediately retracting it, remembering that she doesn’t want anyone to know. But she intertwined your fingers together.

“Come back here,” she whispered.

You placed your head back on the place you find yourself safest in, “Why didn’t you want to tell anyone?” you asked her.

“Because it would’ve made it all the more real and I was scared. I mean my relationship with Will didn’t work out and everyone I’ve loved has either left or died. But I don’t want to love you afraid, constantly thinking that my heart’s gonna break. So if forever is just tomorrow, then tomorrow I’ll love you always,” she told you.

You looked up at her with teary eyes and a small smile, before placing a kiss on her lips softly.

“When did that happen?” Spencer ask.

Rossi looked at him incredulously, “You’re a profiler and you had no idea?” he asked and Reid just looked at him confused. Rossi smacked the back of his head, “Idiots,”

#criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #jj criminal minds #criminal minds #jj x reader #jj criminal minds imagines #jennifer jareau imagines #jennifer jareau x reader

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yourwildsimp · 3 years

Note

can i get 33 and 42 sorry if your request isn’t open anymore^ - ^

33. "What's wrong?" 42. "Would you just hold still?"

includes: levi, y/n

warnings: levi insults you (but he doesn't honestly mean it), probably inaccurate injury treatment (I am not a doctor-)

length: 3,110 words

summary: No one else seemed to notice; not his squad, not Hange, not even the Commander. But you did. You saw the way he avoided putting pressure on his ankle, the way his habits were quick to change. You weren't going to let the man torture himself any longer, come loose-spoken slanders or half-hearted struggles. And who knows? You might discover very interesting details about your elusive Captian.

A/N: I had a few ideas on where to take this, so I hope you like the one I chose. And yes! My requests are very much open! You can make your own request here for angst and here for fluff.

It had started with small hints, ones you hardly picked up on.

Levi had begun to clean the horse stables rather than train with his ODM gear. Even though you were concerned, you figured Humanity's Strongest Soldier wasn't exactly lacking in vertical maneuvering skill. Besides, everyone knew of the fondness Levi had for his horse.

But then he started leaving the mess hall last, too. He made sure every person was gone before slipping into a side hallway. It didn't matter if he was done eating before everyone else, or if he was even eating at all. You forced yourself to believe it was to reprimand whoever left the largest mess.

Yet the brightest red flag was when he stopped his nightly surveillance walks around the perimeter. Or so, that's what he called them.

On any other given night, Levi could be found circling the grounds. His head would be tilted up to view the starry sky, accentuating his sharp jawline. He'd tense and still at every nightly sound, mentally determining if there was a threat of any kind. (Not that you were watching him often enough to know every fine detail, of course.) You even once saw him startle when a bird suddenly flew from a nearby bush. It never happened again, but you had found it adorable.

So knowing that Levi was locked away in the library when he should be marveling at the full moon? It bothered you. A lot. Which is the exact reason you mustered up every bit of your courage to walk into the same room as him.

Cold eyes snapped up to the now opened door, and something foreign clouded his features. He looked back towards his book before you could decipher what the expression on his face was.

The air surrounding him felt stressed. Anxious, even.

You, stubborn as ever, pressed on into the small room, stalking right over to where he sat. Levi simply scoffed, closing his book and placing it face down.

"What do you want, Cadet?" he tsked, cutting features nearly intimidating you enough to leave.

"Captain, with all due respect, I want to know what's wrong."

His eyes narrowed, and you saw something from under the table move. You just now realized that his leg was previously resting on the flat part of another chair.

"Excuse me?" Levi held a dangerous tone. He wanted to scare you away, frighten you enough to stop questioning him. He was almost successful.

You took a deep breath, eyes drifting towards the book he was reading. Levi was quick to shield the description with his hand and forearm.

"You haven't been yourself recently," you started. Your gaze slowly navigated back to Levi's face, only to find a scowl tainting his lips.

"You don't know enough about me to understand-"

"You've stopped your hand-to-hand combat training, your gear training, and you've even stopped sitting in the treetops." He didn't like how you'd cut him off, but you weren't finished. "You don't leave the mess hall quickly anymore. You're now almost always the first one there, which is strange because you usually bring your food all the way to your office. You've even stopped your nightly walks, and you love those."

Your little rant left him closing his mouth from a forgotten attempt to speak. After a moment of collecting his thoughts, he simply said, "I don't go on walks. I make sure there are no outside threats because everyone else is too busy fiddling with the sticks up their asses to do it themselves."

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from giggling at his wording or mentioning the bird. You wanted to keep that incident to yourself.

"And I don't appreciate you stalking me," Levi added, his hand clenching and unclenching. You chose to ignore the false accusation to return your focus on the book. And you watched as Levi forced his hand to relax.

"What are you reading?"

"None of your damn business." The answer came as soon as the question left your lips.

The defiance in your eyes made him tilt his head to the side as you tenaciously pulled out a chair to sit down.

"I don't remember asking you to join me," Levi sneered, though oddly, it lacked his usual bite.

"I don't remember you giving my questions a proper answer," you said matter-of-factly.

The flicker of shock in his eyes was well worth the mini-heart attack you suffered right after the words left your lips. You also chose to believe you imagined the ghost of a smirk on his mouth.

You pressed on before he could talk you into leaving, "I want to know what you're reading, at the very least."

Levi leaned back in his chair, the book's description still covered. "I'm not required to tell you anything. This isn't an interrogation, Cadet."

"Would you answer my questions even if it was?" you scoffed, settling your hands down in your lap.

Levi gave a puff of air through his nose that could almost pass for a chuckle. "No, I wouldn't. You're as intimidating as a fly."

You grit your teeth together, balling your hands up. "Well, maybe I'm not trying to be intimidating! Maybe, just maybe, I'm simply concerned for you. Maybe you're scaring me because you love the moon and have stopped seeing it!" You weren't yelling, but you weren't exactly whispering either. "Maybe I just want to help someone I care about."

Levi held his breath and glanced away towards the open window before swallowing thickly. "That's a lot of 'maybes'," he murmured.

Nothing else was said. You worried about what he'd do because you backtalked him, but you were foolish enough not to care. Though, Levi now seemed absorbed in whatever was outside, fingertips tracing over the back of the book.

After another stressful heartbeat, he pushed the book in front of you, not saying a word. You blinked widened eyes at him and glanced at the book before looking back at him. Sure, you came here to help, but you really didn't expect him to let you.

"Thank you, Captain," you breathed, picking up the book and flipping it over.

Fixing Your Foot & Ankle Pain.

Levi could've laughed at the look on your face, and he watched you read over the title once more. "Great, can I have my book back now, officer?" he asked, dangerously close to sounding smug.

"Not yet." You ignored the sigh he gave. "Why didn't you just let me see it before? Is something wrong with your foot?"

He chewed the inside of his lip before offering a simple answer, "no."

"Then let me see."

"What?"

"I said let me see your foot, Captain. If you are hurt, then I can't have you pushing yourself. You'll make it worse," you said pointedly, pushing the book across the table from you.

"'I can't?'" he quoted. "Don't you mean the 'Corps can't'?"

You didn't answer him in favor of standing up and moving to the foot that was once resting on another chair.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he warned, stiffly moving his leg away from you.

"I'm just checking. It shouldn't be an issue because you're fine, right?"

Levi clenched his jaw, cracking a couple of his knuckles. He didn't pull away from you, nor did he hit you, which is a huge plus.

That is until you tried to get his boot off.

"Oi, don't take it off-"

"Then how am I supposed to look at it? I don't have X-Ray vision," you snapped, waiting for him to settle before you started taking it off again.

"This is stupid," he grumbled, looking up at the ceiling with his arms crossed.

"Yeah, it is stupid that I had to track you down to help you," you bitterly argued, neatly placing his boot aside. You then carefully rolled up his pants leg and took off his sock. Your eyes widened as you stared at how swollen Levi's ankle was. "Levi- are you serious? This is terrible!"

His withering scowl burned down at you, eyes narrowed and deadly at the use of his first name. You didn't seem to notice what you had called him, too worried over his ankle.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth when I had asked?" You didn't even know where to begin with this man.

"I did. My foot is fine."

"Fine? Your ankle is more inflated than the capital mens' egos, sir."

Your joke defanged the bite in his eyes but, despite how funny Levi found it, his only reaction was a huff. "Yeah, my ankle is puffed up. Not my foot, genius."

You glared at him coldly before you stood up, placing your hands on your hips. "Alright," you started, "stay here while I go get the splint and some ice."

"I don't need it."

"You have a second-degree sprain, Captain. You should've iced it as soon as you could. But you didn't. So, now I'm going to take care of you since you can't be bothered to care for yourself," you scolded.

Well then. Excuse me, Levi sarcastically thought, watching you leave after another demand for him not to go anywhere.

While you were gone, he decided to ignore your orders and put the book away. He swallowed a grunt when he sat down again, glancing at the door in case you were there.

As the minutes ticked by, he huffed like an impatient child, his nails scratching and toying with the wood of the table. When you had finally came back, he halfheartedly greeted you with a groan.

"You took too long. Did you take a shit?" Levi grumbled bluntly, leaning his head back as he looked at you.

He nearly grinned as the items you took your precious time to grab poured out of your arms just before you answered. You picked up a few rogue bandages, and Levi glanced away when you looked up.

"If clumsiness was a currency, you'd be as rich as the king," Levi scoffed.

"And if being secretive little gnome was a job, you'd be the CEO of the company," you fired back as you placed the medical things on the table. He tsked, muttering something you didn't quite understand before sitting up in his seat.

"I thought all you needed was some ice and a splint. Why the hell did you grab an entire hospital's supply?"

"Well, Captain, who knows what else you didn't tell anyone about. For all I know, you have fractured ribs, too. Maybe a few fresh gashes that you hardly cleaned up." You gave him such a persistent look that he couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he huffed, carefully tracking you as you rounded the table to tend his ankle.

"That's another thing I've noticed! You don't sleep, and when you do, it's not even in your-" you cut yourself off. The look that crossed your face reminded Levi of the expression Erwin has whenever a cadet asks something stupid. "Where's the book?'

"Why? Can't help me without it?" he challenged.

"It's not that, it's just..." You trailed off, not saying anything for a second or two. "Did you put it up? I specifically told you not to move."

"And I specifically ignored you," he shot back, watching your nose flare when you huffed.

"You know what? Fine. Just be quiet and give me your ankle." Levi was caught off guard by the growl in your voice.

He scowled but didn't speak a word as you started treating his ankle.

It was quiet. Despite the untouched hostility in the air, it was almost peaceful. Until Levi ruined it. Again.

"How do you know I don't sleep in my bed? Are you smelling my blankets while I'm out of them?"

Your shoulders sagged with how heavy your sigh was.

"No, I don't sneak into the guys' sleeping quarters to roll in your sheets, Captain." The thought would be nice to indulge on later, though. "I just know that you often fall asleep at your desk. That's bad for your bones structure, sir. You'll cramp more often, disfigure your stature, develop an asymmetric-"

"And you, Cadet? How's your sleep cycle, huh?" he cut you off, seeing the newfound tightness in your jaw. "Scolding me while you're struggling to stay conscious at the eating tables. Seems real hypocritical, doesn't it?"

You didn't respond. You couldn't; he was right. The bastard typically was.

"I'm done treating your ankle," you began softly, each of your fingers messaging your palms. "You have to stay off of it, sir. If you keep pushing yourself, you'll end up not being able to walk."

There was a pause in the air, your breath hanging like abandoned ODM gear. Levi picked up on the temporarily unspoken words, so he tapped his middle finger on the table and waited.

"As strange as this sounds..."

That's not a good way to start a sentence, Levi thought.

"I need you to take off your shirt. Sir."

Levi dismissed what you have just boldly said to his face with a light scoff. After your silence lingered for a beat too long, Levi shifted his jaw. "You're serious?"

"I just need to check your upper body for damage," you added gently.

Levi tsked, "I don't fucking see why."

Before you could argue any further, he was already tugging off the long-sleeved grey shirt. You cleared your throat and glanced at the surrounding bookshelves, suddenly absorbed with the task of finding the book Levi had put away.

With a thick swallow, you looked back at him, avoiding his eyes like a plague. He watched your brows furrow as you looked closer.

"What's this from?" you asked, letting your thumb trace underneath a fresh slice in between his ribs. He jerked away from you with a snarl, and you glared at him.

"A branch from the last mission caught me," he grumbled, eyeing your hand that was now hovering over his skin.

"Let me guess, you didn't say anything to anyone?"

"Look at you using that empty head of yours."

You rubbed the bridge of your nose with your offhand before grabbing everything you needed; cleansing alcohol, tweezers, a cotton ball, and smaller bandages. For whatever reason, Levi was more defensive about you tending to his ribs than his ankle.

"Oi, I'm fine. You've done plenty, now get lost," he sneered, fingers twitching as you held the cotton ball with the tweezers and soaked it in alcohol.

"Captin, let me just do this and you can move on to stargazing, okay?" you asked halfheartedly. You didn't get a response other than vulgarities.

You started cleaning his previously hidden injury. Well, trying to, at the very least.

"Would you just hold still?" you snapped. He kept jerking and twisting away for your healing hands. "This is taking longer than it should because of you."

You pressed under the wound and in between his ribs to test how tender it was. Levi made a noise so out of place that both of you had paused.

Did he just..?

You looked up at him, holding your breath. He wouldn't look at you, eyes burning holes into the library door.

"Sir, are you-"

"No."

You were probably out of line for doing so, but you pressed around his ribs again in hopes of proving your suspicions. And it turns out you were right.

Levi strangled out a laugh that was clearly meant to be held in. It sounded like heaven on earth. Deep and smooth as butter as you continued to torture his ribs. A smile slowly blossomed on your face.

It didn't last long, Levi swatting your hands away so he could catch his breath, now defending the spot with his life.

"You damned brat," he panted, eyeing you from the corner of his eye.

"I didn't think you could be ticklish," you grinned wickedly as you grabbed the bandages. "That is... Incredible," you snickered to yourself, unwrapping the length that you needed. You tapped his wrist that was blocking his ribs with your middle and index finger, looking at him expectantly.

"If you even try to do that again, I will wrap those bandages around your throat," he threatened. It didn't really sound like he'd carry it out, but you weren't about to test your luck.

You watched as his entire torso tensed, and you as gently as possible wrapped up his cut. Levi relaxed only when you sat back on your heels and began to put everything away.

It was quiet once again, and you felt Levi watch you as you cleaned up your mess. Only once everything was scooped into your arms, you stepped away from him.

Hesitation hung in the air as you both thought of what you should say. You cleared your throat with a grin before walking towards the bookshelves. "Want any reading material while we wait, Captain?" you asked, looking for your own book.

"Wait for what?" he asked skeptically.

"Until the time comes for me to change your bandages," you hummed. You were too busy reading the back of the book you'd picked up for yourself to see how Levi shook his head.

"Fucking hell," he sighed, getting comfortable as he looked out the window. "I don't need a book, Cadet. Sit down already."

You stopped, blinking to yourself as you replayed what he just said in your head. He just invited you to join him. You smiled at the thought, grabbing a book that caught your attention. You practically floated to the seat across from Levi and made yourself at home.

You two stayed like this for a while- Levi being enthralled with the moon, and you caught up in your book. You were too busy reading to notice how he'd look at you now and then.

The time to change his bandages came and went without either of you moving. It was almost, dare you to say, domestic. It wasn't until Levi heard small snores that he carefully stood up.

He looked down at your sleeping face, something uncomfortably sweet bubbling in his chest before he fixed your hair. He stared at you for a minute, just watching the way your chest rose and fell as you breathed.

"Damned brat," he mumbled quietly. Nimble fingers gently peeled the book from you, and he limped as he put it where you got it from. Levi sighed softly, glancing longingly at the window sill. He internally debated on a few things before returning to the table.

Though this time, he sat next to your sleeping frame.

#Ash's Requests!#anon ask #request open #soft levi #levi attack on titan #levi aot #levi ackerman #levi fluff #snk levi #shingeki no kyoujin levi #aot fluff #snk fluff #i am so soft for this man #this ask was so nice #thank you

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heauxzenji · 4 years

Note

hellooo can i request a nsfw akaashi alphabet A-Z? thankuuu bubz

Oh anon. Sweet anon. Let’s... get into it because the amount of brainrot I have suffered at the hands of this req is... phew.

Ty @super-noya for dealing with my shit skdjfhdjjffb

Keiji Akaashi- NSFW Alphabet

𝔄 = 𝔄𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢

I personally think that he’s *chefs kiss* here. Like, he enjoys sitting with you in the stillness after you’re done. He likes to hold you close, so close that he can hear you breathe and hear it intertwined with your heartbeats. He may absentmindedly play with your hair or fingers, but mostly he just enjoys being close to you afterward, and wants to lay in bed with you forever.

𝔅- 𝔅𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱

His Nipples. Let’s just… take a moment. They’re very sensitive, and he will LOSE it at any point that you touch or play with them during. Literally nip at them and watch him struggle trying to swallow his sweet little moans. He’s not very vocal in bed but this is the best way to coax something out of him.

ℭ - ℭ𝔲𝔪

Since he’s so controlled and analytical, I feel like he’s a master of timing, and likes to finish WITH you. He likes to have you on top, but pulling you as close to him as possible while you’re there. As soon as he feels you getting close he’ll hug you and start counting down from ten in your ear, both of you hitting your highs as soon as he gets to one.

𝔇 = 𝔇𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶 𝔖𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱

He has a secret folder in his phone full of horny poetry about you. When he can’t get to you, he opts to write about what he fantasizes about doing to you in the moment. He would never read them to you, but instead he has had them published in a book under a pseudonym. It’s a bestseller.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

He doesn’t have a lot- but that doesn’t mean he's bad in bed, by ANY means. He’s just naturally talented. He’s so in tune with your body that he knows exactly what spots to hit almost instinctively.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Ok- yes he likes regular missionary but hear me out, he doesn’t make it boring! He’s just very much a romantic, so he wants to see your face, kiss you, look you in the eyes, all that fairytale shit. But again- it’s not boring. Likes to look down at you and will 999% spit in your mouth or make you suck his fingers.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖑𝖊

Not a lot of laughter or anything. Sometimes he will look down at you and smile, admiring how you look underneath him.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

Oh very well groomed. Keeps it very neat. He’s not completely hairless because he finds that weird, but he does keep his hair pretty short. Also has the cutest happy trail and goes absolutely insane if you kiss down it before you go down on him

ℑ - ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔶

He’s… a poetic fuck lol. Not like, quoting Shakespeare or anything like that, but in every sense of the word, something about being with him is soft and romantic. From the way he holds you, to the way that he stares at you so intensely in those moments. Basically everything that people write about, he kind of is if that makes sense.He also loves the closeness of having you cockwarm him after you’re done. He finds it comforting and enjoys your warmth.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

Doesn’t do so too often, but when he does- he’s REALLY loud about it. Sounds! So! Pretty! He strains a lot to try and be quiet but he can't help imagining your lips around him instead of his fist- so he partially just moans out of frustration.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

MARKING. Let him bruise you up a little. He has a habit of burying his face in your chest and suckling on the exposed skin there, usually leaving little strawberry colored hickies on you. He likes for you to leave hickies on him too- preferably on his collarbones.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Anywhere indoors/away from prying eyes. He likes to have you all to himself. BUT, he will sneak away with you if you can’t wait- and has definitely seen the inside of many restaurant bathrooms… maybe a few amusement parks too.

𝔐 = 𝔐𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

I feel like Akaashi is motivated by the sounds you make. Simply knowing that you make such pretty cries for him and him only, makes him crave nothing more but to hear you make them again and again. It’s like music to his ears.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

He’s not into latex/leather. He doesn’t like the feeling of it on his skin. Thinks Lace is god-tier tho.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Actually enjoys both giving and receiving pretty equally. But will also be the kind of guy to randomly go down on you to make you feel better if you tell him you’ve had a bad day. It always makes you feel better.

𝔓- 𝔓𝔞𝔠𝔢

Definition of a slow burn tbh. He will take his time to make sure that every part of your body is addressed, even if you’re just begging him to rail you. I feel like he’s huge on body worship, and you being his no. 1 inspiration, he wants to make sure that you know that, so he takes his time. But once he knows that you’re close- he’s going to speed it up so that you can both finish together.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

He isn’t really a fan of them. He prefers to take his time with you. For him it’s just not enough and he couldn’t make it quick if he tried. The only exception though, is when he’s anxious. He will pull you away from the crowds so quickly for a stress relief blowjob.

ℜ - ℜ𝔦𝔰𝔨

As far as trying new things, he’s open to anything you want to try. He likes experimenting with rigging and impact play, and always has something different to tie your arms with, liking the different textures against your skin. Will 100% let you peg him- but only on special occasions, like your birthday or anniversary.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

He can go forever if you let him. He has amazing control. He will want you to have cum at least 3 times before he even thinks about cumming himself. He’s very generous and will meld himself to fit what you need.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

Again, will 100% let you peg him. But also is not opposed to things like vibrators or cock rings. He’s literally down to try anything at least once- he’s so versatile.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

He is just a little needy, so he doesn’t like being teased. But he instead LOVES to tease you. He does like to see you squirm as he whispers absolute filth into your ears while you’re out with your friends. He’s really good at knowing what makes you tick, doing that specific thing, and then playing it cool so no one notices.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Oh god. Oh god he sounds so pretty. He’s not loud at all- tries so hard to hold it back. But when he actually lets go? It’s like music to your ears- it’s literally the most beautiful mixture of deep, breathy moans and also strangled calls of your name through gritted teeth. I could go on forever about this I need water I can’t breathe

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖉

Akaashi IS the wildcard. He is literally down for anything- and you would never know because he looks so unassuming. Always the quiet ones I guess…

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

This hurt me the most. FUCKING PRETTY DICK AKAASHI IS VERY REAL AND VERY MUCH WHAT KEEPS ME UP AT NIGHT. It’s pretty and also cute, like how? Not really thick but it is long (6/6.5)also it??? BLUSHES??? Literally turns the prettiest pink at the head I’m crying it’s perfect it’s just perfect and I will not stop screaming about it.

𝔜- 𝔜𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤

He likes to play it cool and collected but he literally secretly writes h*rny poetry about you all the time so he wants it bad, he’s just never going to say HOW bad. But the moment you tell him “come here” and wiggle your finger at him? He’s done for. That’s what really sets him off.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

He doesn’t sleep right after. He will eventually, but he actually gets a second wind for a bit and will ramble on for hours until you fall asleep. He won’t notice you’re sleeping, but will go on and on about his innermost thoughts until he burns out, then he falls asleep holding you.

#haikyuu hcs #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fic #haikyuu hc #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu akaashi #hq akaashi #hq writing #hq headcanon

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adhdeancas · 3 years

Text

Dean Winchester (and the script leaks last night) possessed me to write this.

Dean happens upon Chuck's latest book: Carry On. Except it ends differently than it really went, and the ending? It's really fucking bad.

tw: suicide mention, transphobia (quickly shut the fuck down)

Dean doesn’t make a habit of going to bookstores. Not because he hates books, contrary to what Sam might think; he just prefers to buy used books. There’s something comforting about a book that has already been worn and read over and over, that already shows how much the previous owner loved it. Plus, y’know, big corporations are evil and all that. And Dean only allows himself to overlook that when his stomach or his wallet wins over his hatred of the shitty mass-produced products.

This time it was Jack who won; he’s obsessed with this new fantasy series and the new book just came out, so there’s no way he can hunt it down on Ebay. He makes his way to the fantasy and sci-fi section, eyes roaming over the displays of new releases, and his eye catches on something that turns his blood cold.

“Supernatural: Carry On, The Final Book of the Winchesters’ Epic Journey” takes up a whole table, the generic and overly serious cover jeering out at him.

He storms over to the display, anger covering up for the way his body feels light as a feather and like lead all at once, and picks up a book. “Why is Sam always fucking shirtless?” he mutters, the only thought that allows itself from the mess inside his head to his mouth.

“Book sales.” A voice behind him says. He turns to see a teenager with their arms crossed over their work polo, pierced lip fixed into a customer-unfriendly frown.

“People want to see that?”

They snort, a small grin turning up the corner of their lips. It reminds Dean of Cas. “No. But that’s what advertisers think all ‘women’ want,” They use air quotes.

He raises an eyebrow and asks. “Women?”

They shrug and uncross their arms, leaning back against the display table behind them. Their nametag says Jadyn. “Supernatural’s biggest block of readers is queer. I’d go out on a limb and say a lot of those the marketers think of as ‘women’ aren’t, or if they are, they aren’t itching to see Sam’s six pack.” Jadyn smirks.

Dean takes a second to digest that, then grins down at the book, thinking past Sam’s apparently badly-received nudity now. “So how’d they like it?” he asks, waving the book a bit and looking up at Jadyn. Apparently they know a lot about the fans of the books, and for once, he’s proud of the way the story ended.

Jadyn’s face sets into all hard lines. “Most people fucking hated it.” they say bluntly, then, probably remembering that he’s a customer, correct. “Sorry. I mean, it got some good reviews, mostly from people who like Wincest, but beyond that, it had some problematic plot points.”

Dean winces at the reminder of the ship between him and his brother, then scrunches his whole face together in confusion. “Wait, what? Why?” Why would Wincest fans like it? What was problematic about their end?

Jadyn shifts from foot to foot. “I don’t wanna spoil anything for you-”

“I don’t care about spoilers, just give me the short version.” Dean says quickly. A quiet panic is rising in him, and suddenly he has a horrible feeling that he’s not holding the truth in his hands anymore.

“Uh, okay… Well, the most obvious thing is the bury-your-gays thing, then there’s the fact that it completely contradicted the rest of the lore. And it was ableist, misogynistic, and messed up, like, every character’s arc.” they take a breath, clearly worked up by it. “Even if they changed any of the details too, it was all built on Dean’s death, and that’s just bullshit. Sorry.” they apologize again, apparently mistaking Dean’s stricken expression to be in reaction to their rant and swearing.

“No, nah, you’re… you’re okay. Uh, thanks.” he waves a hand and wanders away from them, only remembering Jack’s book when he’s almost to the register. He manages to make his way back and find the damn thing, but he’s still in a fog when he gets to the register.

“Did anyone help you in the store today?”

“Huh?” he looks up and meets the middle-aged cashier’s gaze for the first time. Brent, from the nametag, looks at him impatiently. “Oh, yeah, uh… Jadyn. Jadyn helped me.” Brent scoffs and starts typing with a shake of the head. “Uh, is there a problem?” Dean asks, a little annoyed at this cashier’s unnecessary attitude. He usually doesn’t care if an employee’s rude, because they have to deal with assholes all the time and honestly Dean isn’t much better, but this one gives him a bad feeling.

“No, no, sorry. It’s just - “Jadyn’s” got this idea that he’s a girl. Makes everybody call him that name now too. Just-” Brent shakes his head. “I mean, you get it. Their generation, everybody wants to be special.”

Dean glares. “No, I don’t get it, Brent.” He says through gritted teeth. “Seems to me like Jadyn probably deals with enough assholes like you that her asking for a little basic decency is the exact opposite of special. Sounds pretty normal, actually.” He can see the fear creep into Brent’s eyes, and he knows the cashier is reacting to the murderous look in his eyes more than his actual words.

Brent hands Dean his bag of books with a quiet, “Here you go.”

Dean snatches it away. “Oh, Brent?” he checks over his shoulder to make sure they’re alone and then leans across the counter into Brent’s space. “You should find a new job, one where you don’t have to interact with other people. At least until you learn how to stop being a piece of shit.” He starts to ease away but thinks better about it. “And if you think that’s a suggestion, it’s not. My husband likes this book coming out next month that I’ll need to buy, and if I see you here when I come, well… it would be really embarrassing for you to tell all your little friends that you got your ass beat by a ‘special’ guy, huh?” He pats Brent on the cheek condescendingly and leaves with a huff.

Damn transphobes.

He only remembers the book once he’s back in Baby, and he takes the time to drive out of town before he pulls over to read it. It’s an old abandoned church, the cross long since fallen from the roof and the doors hanging off their hinges. He sits on the steps just because being in Baby seems claustrophobic for once in his life, and going back to the bunker to look at this is just… not happening.

Dean only skims the beginning to see that it starts the same. The ground erupting with bodies, hell spitting out its most-conveniently placed nasties, Rowena sacrificing herself, Cas leaving. His throat closes up at that, at Chuck’s description of Cas’s heartbroken expression as he climbs the stairs of the bunker. He clears his throat and skips to the end, right past Cas’s death that he doesn’t have the time to think about right now, past them defeating Chuck and then stops. He goes back a few pages, trying to find the disconnect.

The story’s different.

After Jack takes on God’s power, in the book, he’s totally fine. Not almost vibrating out of his skin or anything, not crying like the three year old he is because he’s scared. Not like it really happened. He just smiles and leaves him and Sam, and they let him go.

Dean scoffs, skimming over the story as it just gets more ridiculous.

In the book, he doesn’t even try to save Cas. They barely even mention him. And they never mention Eileen, either. In fact, Dean notes disbelievingly, practically the only characters in the last few chapters are him and Sam. They’re hunting again.

“What, is Chuck trying to keep the series going?” he whispers to himself, anger flaring through him. They let Chuck live, and he decided to write obnoxious fanfiction about them? He’s gonna kill that shameless little fucker. For real, this time. He deserves it.

In the book, Sam and Dean torture some vampire mime, and they enjoy it. Dean cringes; this is really what Chuck thinks of them. Then they tussle with more vamps in a barn and-

Dean’s brain stops working. He rereads the scene again and again.

“There’s something in my… something in my back. It feels like it’s right through me.”

Dean Winchester dies in a dirty barn, on a piece of freaking rebar.

More than that, Dean realizes on his fourth read-through. This Dean? He tried to drag out his speech, Dean can tell by the way he pauses for fucking drama. He would never do that. He would never talk to Sam for fifteen hellish minutes when he could be trying. Trying to live, so he can actually get his life back on track, get his family back. No, he made that speech stalling. He made that speech so Sam wouldn’t try to save him.

“You gotta admit, I had one helluva ride.” He was strangely calm.

Chuck made him kill himself.

Dean reads the rest of the book through blurry eyes, reading an ambiguous and nothing-ending, one where he’s somehow happy to be dead and driving around in heaven alone while Sam raises a kid into hunting and cries about Dean decades after he’s died. Eileen isn’t mentioned. Cas is mentioned once, and Bizzarro-Dean doesn’t even think about seeing him, apparently. The whole book ends with a hug between him and Sam, both dead. Both alone.

Dean rips the ending up. He tears through the stupid paper covering and keeps ripping the pages up until they’re the size of confetti. His lower lip wobbles. He throws the whole thing against the side of the building, and it tumbles through the broken doorway and drops into a pile of dust and dirt. “That isn’t the fucking ending.” he grounds out, knocking his hand against the flimsy handrail. It gives a little under his fist and he kicks at it. “That isn’t the fucking ending!”

He’s having a panic attack. Again. He tries to take deep breaths, but they’re gulping, too big, they’re making him panic more. He scrambles back to Baby and grabs his phone, presses the first number on his favorites list and waits for him to answer on speaker phone.

“Hey Dean, what’s up?” Sam sounds like he’s been laughing. There are voices in the background, and Dean tries to convince himself one of them is Eileen.

“Hey Sammy.” he chokes out, trying to sound normal. “You busy?”

There’s a pause, and then the sounds in the background. “Nah, Rowena’s just over.” he says casually.

“So those voices in the background were-”

“Rowena and Eileen, yeah. They’re trying to convince me we need to go to Mexico. For the beaches.” A smile in his voice. Dean lets out a sigh of relief. What’s up, Dean? You need something?” The smile drops, and Sam’s worried.

Sam’s okay. Sam’s okay. “No, nah. Hey, you heard from Donna lately?” Dean just needs to triple-check.

“Uh, no, not since Sunday dinner… Dean, you okay?”

“Yeah, she just- she hasn’t been answering my texts. Just wanted to make sure.” Dean lies quickly. His breathing is still uneven, but his body is settling into uneven shakes.

Sam sounds skeptical. “Yeah, well, she did tell us it’s been pretty busy at work lately. Y’know, everybody going out for the first time with COVID, getting stupid. Plus, y’know, nowhere’s drowning in EMTs right now.”

“Right. Yeah.” Dean takes a deep breath, a distant memory of Donna talking about that coming back to him.

“Pretty sure you were setting up a D&D session with Charlie while she was talking about that,” Sam laughs. Dean knows he means it as a subtle jab, but there’s too much relief flooding through him to care. Still, a string is pulled taut in him, and Sam can’t fix that completely.

“Gotta go, Sam,” Dean hangs up before Sam can say anything else, and goes to his next contact. It rings for far too long, and Dean’s heartbeat picks back up to thundering.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean breathes out. “Cas, you know I love you, right?” He needs to test all the bounds of this, to make sure, just to make sure. Make sure Chuck isn’t still fucking with him. Because apparently, Chuck won’t let him be queer. Not in his story. Not out loud.

He can hear Cas’s eyebrow raise through the phone, and his chest is overcome with stupid fondness. “I would be a little worried if you didn’t.”

Dean grins widely. “Like, romantically. I’m in love with you. Because you’re the love of my life and I’m bisexual.” He says it all like it’s a checklist, like he expects some cosmic being to slap a hand over his mouth before he gets each next phrase out.

“Yes, Dean. We’ve been married almost two months.” Cas is smiling. It happens everytime he talks about their wedding. Dean adores it. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, now it is.” His whole body relaxes, still vibrating with leftover panic, but satisfied. “I got Jack’s book.”

“Oh, good. He’ll be so pleased.” Cas pauses. “Dean, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dean eases off the ground and sends a last look at the dilapidated church before climbing into Baby. “Just- read a bad book. I’ll tell you about it later. When I get home.”

#i fixed it #god fucking damn it #dean winchester #destiel #saileen #saileena #sam winchester #castiel #eileen leahy #castiel winchester #jack kline #roweena #my writing #ficlet #deancas #trans dean #trans woman OC #tw: transphobia #tw: suicide mention

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ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 4 years

Text

Nev, Max, Help!-Nate Jacobs Oneshot

Requested: Yes

Warnings: aggressiveness and rudeness from Nate and a brief panic attack scene

A/N: The reader is gender neutral since the requester did not specify what they wanted and I did not want to disrespect the storyline from the show. Also, it’s a long one.

For once, Amy Winehouse’s low, melancholy voice did nothing to soothe my nerves as I typed what I was looking for in the designated box. “Love is a Losing Game” was definitely not the best song for the mood but I loved her voice so much; it was like a really messed up security blanket for me. My thumbs shook as I kept typing and quickly deleting my words.

Someone to have fun with.

No, that’ll bring every single creep to my profile.

Someone to watch Netflix with.

Ew, no, they won’t want to go anywhere or do anything.

Someone to discuss Maya Angelou with...

This could go one of two ways: attract a sensitive, nice person or the ultimate softboi who was really just an f-boy in a sensible cardigan.

Okay, Y/N, just add to it.

...and have adventures, great conversations, and watch the best movies.

That seemed broad enough and, potentially, weeded out all the weirdos. Patti Stanger would approve of this. I took such a deep breath that I could feel the oxygen in my feet as I pressed the green check mark. An adorable buffering sign appeared before being quickly replaced by a CONGRATULATIONS, Y/N/N, ON COMPLETING YOUR PROFILE.

The air came out of me slowly, like a balloon, and I tried to make myself relax as I swiped through different matches. One person was too short, the other too tall, another had way too many pictures with reptiles in his profile, and one’s bio simply read: DM and you’ll find out.

Serial killer much?

“That’s part of your problem, Y/N,” Jules had chastised me a few day prior.

“What do you mean by ‘part’?” I’d replied.

“Well, for one, you barely leave the house anymore unless I drag you out,” Jules argued.

“I’m busy,” I’d defended.

“Rewatching Breaking Bad for the eighth time does not count as being busy. Plus, you’re so picky.”

“Am not!”

“You said you’d only do DiCaprio in his Great Gatsby days,” Rue had added.

“Did you see him in that suit?”

Jules then shrugged. “All I’m saying is if you aren’t careful, you will end up all alone.”

“That’s not true, Y/N might get cats.”

That conversation had haunted me since and had driven me to making a dating profile after the required Saturday night family dinner. While my parents and brother were downstairs watching a movie, I was holed up in my room, cringing and regretting accepting any chat requests.

Half an hour on the app caused the images of various male genitalia to be burned into my mind. I would need my brain soaked in holy water for it to be erased. I huffed and kept scrolling, vainly hoping and wishing for a decent guy to pop up on my radar.

Maybe Jules and Rue were wrong. Maybe I had all the right in the world to be picky, I thought harshly to myself.

I dropped my phone on my nightstand and flopped against my pillows as Me and Mr. Jones began playing. I sighed and felt myself being lulled into the comforting abyss Amy created.

Ding!

I jumped out and glared at the source of the noise. Another chat request, another picture to ruin my young brain?

“Be positive, Y/N, this might be good,” I stated as I grabbed the phone.

Tyler wants to chat!

I frowned and opened up the app, only to be met with the most sculpted six-pack I had ever seen. My heart began banging against my chest and my thumbs fumbled for a moment to answer the chat request.

Whoosh.

My stomach dropped as I stared at my first chat to Tyler: Shg.ismtle

I’m. Going. To. Die. Alone.

I quickly typed: Please ignore that, I’m so sorry!

Seconds later, my phone dinged.

Tyler: Really? I thought you were trying to send me a secret code and I liked that we were that cool already.

This was not real, this could not be happening. Tyler had to be a bot, that was why he didn’t show his face in his profile. Bots were supposed to have a hard time recognizing and creating faces, right?

But, on the off chance Tyler was real, it would have been rude to leave the conversation so abruptly?

Y/N: Who knows? Maybe it was a secret code and I’m just testing you.

Tyler: Ok, let me guess what it means.

Tyler: Hi?

Y/N: Haha, you really thought I’d use such a simple code as a first message?

Tyler: It’s my bad for underestimating u. I should have known u were smarter since you read Maya Angelou.

Y/N: U a fan?

Tyler: “You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.”

He knows Angelou? He could have Googled a quote though. Still, it’s a good quote to use if he had Googled it.

Y/N: Nice, but, doesn’t get u out of the guessing game.

As Tyler helplessly guessed wrong for several minutes, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I used to think online dating was a last resort or a breeding ground for predators. But, maybe there were decent people looking for something (or someone) meaningful after all.

Tyler: I give up, you’re really good.

Y/N: Thx. But, I can tell you what I meant to say.

Tyler: The suspense is srsly kiilling me.

Y/N: I meant 2 say hey.

Tyler: I guessed that!

Y/N: No, u guessed ‘hi’, there’s a difference.

Tyler: C’mon, barely.

For the rest of the night, Tyler and I chatted. He told me that he plays baseball at a school across town and he doesn’t like anyone around there. He liked John Mulaney stand-up, lemon bars, going to the gym, hanging out with his friends, and reading good books. He was an only child and his parents tended to spoil him. I told him about my friends and how I liked being on the swim team at my school as well as the different YouTubers and books I enjoyed. When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed of talking to him.

On Monday, Jules and Rue were hanging out outside the school as other people either headed to class or relaxed on the lawn. I could not stop my feet from bouncing as I walked up to them.

“...and that is why Sailor Mercury is the most underrated character of the whole show,” Jules affrimed.

Rue seemed halfway interested as her head nodded slowly underneath the hood of her burgundy hoodie. “Cool, all I asked was who’s your favorite but, cool.”

Jules rolled her eyes playfully and straightened up when she saw me. “Hey, Y/N, nice shirt.”

“Thanks.” I wore a sky blue tie dye shirt with ripped jeans and white Converse.

Rue leaned forward and squinted at me. “You’re not wearing black, something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, she’s obviously been influenced by me!” Jules teased as she wrapped a slim arm around my shoulders.

“Yeah, you can only hang out with this literal rainbow human so long before she starts influencing your outfit choices.”

We started heading inside, which was really just Jules and me dragging Rue into the building.

“But I don’t wanna be here. It’s so stupid that I have to wait six more months before I can legally decide where I spend my time,” Rue muttered.

“It’s fine, you have us!” Jules insisted.

“Yup!” I agreed.

“Hey, Y/N, Rue, Jules!” Cassie greeted as she sidled up next to me.

We all greeted her.

“Have a good weekend?” Rue asked.

“Yeah, there was this great party that Nick Davis threw. I swear, everyone there was on acid.” Cassie stopped herself and bit her bottom lip. “Sorry---”

Rue shook her head. “It’s fine.”

“How were yours?” Cassie asked as we continued to our lockers.

“Fine,” Jules said.

Rue shrugged in response.

I opened my mouth to reply when my phone beeped and I wrestled it out of my pocket.

Tyler: Is it 2 late 4 a good morning text?

I smiled.

“You’re so cheesy,” I muttered under my breath.

“Who’s that?” Cassie asked, peeking over my shoulder.

I jumped and cradled my phone to my chest like it was my child. “No one.”

Jules pulled open her locker and cocked a bleached eyebrow. “‘No one’ does not cause huge smiles like that!” She jabbed a sparkly-manicured finger at me.

“Yeah, show us,” Rue said. “We are your friends.”

“It’s nothing,” I insisted as I weaved around them.

I pushed myself against my locker and managed to open it with my free hand. Rue was on one side of me and Cassie was on the other.

“Is it a boy?” Cassie sang.

“Or a girl?” Rue questioned.

“It’s none of your business,” I gritted out as I grabbed my necessary books.

As I shuffled the books in my arms, Jules came from behind and slipped my phone away from me. I gasped, whirled around, and watched as Rue tried to look at the phone while Cassie playfully blocked me.

“Guys, this is not cool! This is such a serious invasion of privacy,” I argued as I tried to move around Cassie.

“We’re besties, there’s no such thing as privacy!” Jules retorted.

“Wow, Y/N, these are so----” Jules cut Rue off.

“Adorable!” Jules squealed and turned to face me.

Cassie took the opportunity to glance at my phone and she smiled. “Aw, this Tyler guy sounds so sweet.”

I snatched my phone from Jules. “Well, now you know. Can we please go to class now?”

As the other girls grabbed their things from their lockers, I got out my phone to reply to Tyler.

Y/N: It’s never too late...until noon technically.

Somehow, I started wandering away from the girls until I ran into someone. I tried to jump away, but they grabbed me by the forearms.

“I am so sorry, I should have looked where I was going---” I stopped speaking when I recognized Nate’s direct gaze on me. I was pretty tall but I always felt like he could throw me into the lockers if he wanted to.

“Watch it, Y/N,” he muttered.

“Nate, let go of them,” Maddy chided, her hand resting against one of his arms.

She seemed to have the magic touch because he relaxed and I joined my friends. As the couple continued down the hallway, I couldn’t help but admire them. In a very messed up way, they worked. Kat had told me only a little about what Nate would do whenever Maddy upset him and I felt so bad for her, angry at him, and then conflicted. Nate just had to have that stereotypical amazing all-American look.

“You okay, Y/N?” Cassie asked.

“Yeah, is it weird that I can still feel his eyes on me even when he’s not looking?” I asked.

“No, his need for dominance permeates everyone’s sense of autonomy,” Rue assured.

“Nice,” Jules said.

“And scary accurate,” Cassie added.

Jule looped her arm with mine and steered us in the direction of our first classes. “Anyway, if he tries anything, I’m sure Tyler would gladly kick his butt for you.”

Throughout the day, Tyler and I chatted and I even had to get creative with responding. In English, I kept my head down during quiet reading time and made sure my phone was positioned just right in my lap. During geometry, I told Mrs. Packer that I was having some digestive issues and spent most of the class outside the bathroom, texting Tyler. At lunch, I could barely focus on my friends’ conversation.

“Hello, Earth to Y/N?” Lexi waved her hand in front of my face and I blinked.

“Sorry, I was----”

“Texting her boooyfriiiend,” Jules sang.

“He’s not my boyfriend, we’re just talking.” I started poking at my sandwich. “What did I miss?”

“Oh, nothing, just the fact that I nearly blew up the school during chem,” Cassie said.

“Magnesium chloride isn’t an explosive,” Lexi argued.

“Well, the tube overflowed and everyone was freaking out,” Cassie argued.

“Yeah, because magnesium chloride can have bad side effects,” Lexi continued.

“I wonder what would happen if the school exploded and we weren’t all here? Would they have to give us our diplomas?” I thought outloud.

“Ooh, and I could go to fashion school early!” Jules cheered.

“I’d be happy not coming here anymore,” Rue admitted.

It was quiet for a moment as we all ate but that quiet was broken when Maddy yelled.

“WHO ARE YOU TEXTING?”

I couldn’t help myself but look. Maddy was standing behind Nate, who was sitting with his teammates at the center table. Bebe and Kat flanked Maddy a little behind. Everyone stared at them. Nate’s jaw tightened.

“Maddy, calm down,” his relaxed, controlled voice nearly echoed in the silent cafeteria.

“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! YOU’VE BEEN ON YOUR PHONE ALL DAY!” she snapped.

“Maddy---”

“ARE YOU TEXTING OTHER GIRLS?” Maddy shouted.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” Nate asked.

Maddy sighed. “Are you gonna let me see your phone?”

“Maddy, we need to talk.”

“Don’t talk to me again.”

Before Nate could respond, Maddy dumped the contents of her lunch tray over his head and threw the tray aside. Kat and Bebe followed her as she strutted out of the cafeteria amid the shocked gasps.

“I’m gonna go check on her,” Cassie whispered.

We all nodded and she quietly exited the room. As I stared at Nate, the supposed king of the school, drenched in soggy salad and fat-free milk, I wondered why he could never stay broken up with Maddy. Their relationship was not just toxic, it was volatile. Their breakups were always public and outrageous, but they always ended up back together. No one questioned it either. I never understood why people could continue to choose relationship they knew was bad over pursuing something new. I told Tyler as much that night.

Y/N: It’s like those dogs that get killed by electric fences because they keep walking into them.

Tyler: U have a good point, but, that couple’s relationship is more complicated than u think.

Y/N: Probably, but, it doesn’t look that way. They hurt each other a lot.

Tyler: How do u know?

Y/N: Bc I’ve seen it. I don’t mean 2 b judgy, but, I could never be in a relationship like that.

Tyler: Well, I don’t think anyone would b if they knew it would b bad.

Y/N: Good point. But, why would they get back together so much?

Tyler: Idk them, but, it could b bc it’s familiar and it’s what they know.

Y/N: Still, it’s messed up.

Tyler: Yeah, but I don’t wanna talk abt them anymore.

Y/N: K, what do u wanna talk abt?

A few seconds later, Tyler sent me a picture so graphically beautiful that I was convinced I passed out.

The next day, I showed Rue and Jules the picture during break time.

“Holy crap!” Jules took my phone and leaned into it for closer inspection.

“Tyler is packing,” Rue agreed.

Jules slid my phone back to me. “You haven’t replied to him?” “No, and he hasn’t talked to me at all today.”

“He’s probably expecting a reply that’s similar to what he sent,” Rue said.

My face warmed up. “I can’t send him nudes,” I hissed.

“Why not? It’s like the greeting cards of our generation,” Jules stated.

“Really? You’d send your grandparents a greeting card of your naked body?” I replied sarcastically.

“Relax, if you’re uncomfortable, we can help you,” Jules assured.

“We can?” Rue asked.

“We can.” Jules gave her a look and Rue relaxed.

“It’s still weird, but, I guess you guys can come over after school.”

“Sweet! Your mom still bakes cookies for you after school, right?” Jules asked.

I nodded.

“She might stop once she learns her darling favorite older child is sending nudes,” Rue snorted as she spoke.

I recoiled in my seat, taking a second to bask in the sun’s warmth. “Don’t remind me.”

After swim practice, once my teammates left the locker room, I eyed my naked form in the mirror. I had nothing to be ashamed of, really, thanks to all the swimming, but, I just felt weird being naked in front of people. There was something so vulnerable about it, like, being on display in a museum or lying on a cold surgery table. But, online dating was supposed to get me out of my comfort zone and I’d found someone who’d made me feel comfortable enough to do it. With this resolve, I changed into a hoodie and some sweatpants and left the school. It was dusk and I typically walked home after practice since it wasn’t far. Plus, I’d told Jules and Rue to just go to my house after school.

The late breeze rippled past me and I dug my hands into my pants’ pockets as I started walking towards the parking lot. There was barely anyone around, except stoners hotboxing their cars, some couples making out, and dance team members and football players getting out of practice.

I kept my head down as I maneuvered around the few cars and people around. It felt like someone could spot what I was about to do once I got home and it was nervewracking. All I had to do was get home, let Jules make me look even better, take these pictures, and never thinking of it again.

“Something on your mind, Y/N?” Nate called.

I froze and snapped my head up to look at him. He was leaning against his truck, looking like a model for Ford in only a tshirt and jeans. Ford should hire him.

“No, not really,” I said.

I started to side step the truck, eyeing the sidewalk that was only a few yards away as though it was a lifeline.

“Get in,” Nate ordered.

I paused and looked at him. “Excuse me?”

“I see you walking home all the time, let me do you a favor, one athlete to another.” Nate was about halfway in the driver’s seat of the car and all I could do was stare.

“We’ve...never really talked before,” I stated.

“We can talk during the drive.”

I stepped back and my eyes flittered around, like the best decision would hit me in the face. Then, I saw Maddy across the lot. She was standing with a couple of dance team girls, including Cassie. She stared me down as though daring me to do it. I glanced from her to Nate, who started the engine loudly.

I quickly climbed into the passenger’s seat and stared into Maddy’s reflection in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“How do you know where I live?” I asked.

“You forgot that I gave you a ride before?” Nate asked.

“When?”

“After Cassie’s sweet sixteen. You blacked out, your friends were panicking, and I offered to take you home. For some reason, you remembered your address,” Nate recalled.

“Oh, thanks?”

“Sure.”

We pulled up to my house a few minutes later, Lil Wayne bragging about his conquests filling the quiet. I hopped out of the truck and grabbed my bag.

“Thanks for the ride, this one, I mean, I owe you,” I said.

“Yeah, see you around, Y/N.”

I closed the door and headed inside.

“I’m home!” I called.

My mom poked her head out from the kitchen. “Y/N, how was school and practice?”

“Fine.”

“Was that Nate Jacobs outside?”

I hesitated.

How did she know what Nate’s truck looked like? “Yeah, he gave me a ride today.”

“Aw, isn’t that sweet? Rue and Jules are waiting for you in your room. They took the cookies with them.”

I nodded and went to my room. As soon as I walked in, they bombarded me with questions.

“Why did Nate give you a ride?” Rue asked.

“What did you guys talk about?” Jules inquired.

“Don’t you hate him?”

“He’s kind of a dick, but, unfortunately, super good looking.”

“Did Maddy see?”

“Do you think she’s gonna kill you?”

“Guys, I don’t know but I do know that if you do not take amazing pictures of me with no clothes on soon, I will delete my entire profile,” I interrupted.

They both nodded.

“But, we will ask for details later,” Jules insisted.

“Okay, but, please give me a cookie, I’ll need it to get through this.”

Rue extended the plate towards me and I bit into the melty goodness as Jules began doing my makeup. It was simple, only bringing out my best features. I made them both turn around as I undressed. Once I had, Jules encouraged me.

“You look amazing, I would be shocked if he didn’t jizz in his pants,” Jules said.

“Lower your voice, Y/B/N can only play Five Nights at Freddy’s so loud,” I hissed.

Jules held her hands up and Rue direct me to lay on the bed, my phone held up in front of her.

“Okay, look sexy,” Rue said.

I tried to smolder, but, by their expressions, I did not achieve it.

“No, like, pout your lips, like, you just heard that TheOdd1sOut is not uploading for a month,” Jules directed.

“And give the camera bedroom eyes, you know, as though it’s Tyler.”

“Okay.” After a few pictures, I slowly got the hang of it and even started posing a little naturally.

“Oh my gosh, Tyra is shook!” Jules cheered.

“Yeah, these are pretty good if I do say so myself.” Rue handed me my phone and I flipped through the pictures.

She was a talented photogrpaher and I joked that maybe she should go professional.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’d have a nice clientele.”

I laughed as I changed back into my hoodie and sweatpants. “Okay, help me pick one to send.”

Jules took my phone and she and Rue began scrolling.

“No, the lighting’s off in this one,” Jules muttered.

“No, it’s never off in any of these,” Rue argued.

“I’m not shading your talent, I’m just trying to find the best thing for Y/N to send Tyler.”

After a little more bickering, we all agreed on the picture and I sent it to Tyler.

“Should I follow it up with something?” I asked.

“Maybe say ‘Wrong person’? Guys want what other guys want,” Jules suggested.

“Or say ‘Sorry for the late reply’,” Rue added.

“I’ll go with Rue’s, sorry, Jules.”

Jules shrugged.

I sent everything off and my friends and I watched as Tyler typed a response.

Tyler: It was worth the wait ;).

We squealed so loud that my mom yelled for us to keep it down. We apologized as we descended into a fit of giggles. Through it all, I could not help but feel so bouncy and light all over. Was I...falling for this total stranger?

“What do you think he looks like?” Jules asked during lunch later that week.

I shrugged. “It’s different every day, if that makes sense.”

“I guess that’s the nice thing about interacting with someone who doesn’t show their face,” Jules thought outloud.

“How do you see him now?” Lexi asked.

I sighed. “Right now, I think he’s tall, six feet at least. He’s got a mix of blonde and brown hair like a surfer because it’s lightened from all the time he’s spent in the sun. He has green eyes, freckles, and he dresses well.”

“Sounds amazing,” Jules said as she rest her chin in her hand.

Rue nodded slowly. “You’re not nervous or anything?”

“No, this is so cheesy, but, I feel like I know him, you know? He’s so easy to talk to and has so much to say.”

“Y/N’s blushing,” Jules teased. “Do you love him?”

“I really, really, really, like him.”

“Do you think you’ll meet soon?” Lexi asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, neither of us has brought it up.”

“Well, it just matters that you’re comfortable, okay?” Rue said.

“Okay.”

If I was honest, I did not know if I wanted to meet Tyler. I knew that I liked him more than I liked anyone before, but, there was something strange about breaking this wall the internet provided us. It was freer to talk on the internet than it was in person. What if I said something stupid in front of him? What if he thought that I looked different in person? What if he looked different in person?

I managed to keep these thoughts at bay for the rest of the day until I got home. Post-dinner had been officially declared Talk to Tyler Time. None of my family knew what I was doing besides blasting Amy Winehouse in my room for about an hour. My laugh nearly overpowered her high note in “Best Friends, Right?”. I had to blink away my happy tears as I replied to him.

Y/N: That did not happen! Tyler: Yes it did! Do u want 2 c the scar????

Y/N: No, I think I’m good.

I wiped away my tears and settled under the covers. I wondered if his friends would agree that Tyler gets into some weird situations as well. Just as I started typing, Tyler beat me.

Tyler: I want 2 meet u.

The speed that I launched my phone away from me almost shocked me more than the text.

Almost.

My heartbeat thrummed in my ears. This was it, I knew I couldn’t avoid him much longer, but, I felt like I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare at my phone like it was the most offensive object in the world. Slowly, I regained mobility and grabbed my phone. I took a deep breath.

“Take a chance, Y/L/N,” I whispered.

Y/N: When and where?

“You’re meeting him tonight?” Jules squealed the next day.

I hushed her as people in the hallway paused to look at us. “Not so loud.” “But this is so exciting. Please let me help you decide what to wear,” Jules pleaded with a pout.

“Sure,” I said.

Jules hugged me. “This is going to be so fun. I won’t go crazy with glitter since this is the first time you’re meeting this guy.”

“Thanks?”

“Do your parents know?” Rue asked.

“No,” I replied as I slowly pulled away from Jules. “They’re coming Senior Night tonight, though. and I’m going to meet him at Mercy Park an hour before it ends.”

“Are you sure you even want to do this? I know that Jules and I tease you about your love life, but, this is risky,” Rue said.

“You weren’t saying that when you were helping me with those pictures the other day,” I shot back.

“That was different. You’re...you’re actually meeting him now and he could be a psychopath or a sociopath or, just, a creepy old guy who likes to look at teenagers!” Rue insisted.

“Rue, relax, everything’s going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that!” She turned on her heel and hurried into the bathroom with Jules and I on her tail.

When we entered, Rue was leaning against the wall, panting and staring up at the ceiling. Jules and I approached her slowly as the girls who were in the bathroom quickly filed out.

“Rue, slow down your breathing,” I said slowly.

“I...I can’t. You-you could get hurt or something and-and I would know about it an-and I-I couldn’t live with that!” Tears burst from her eyes as Rue began pacing and Jules and I were close but gave her room.

“Rue, Y/N is going to be okay, we both know what time she’ll be at the park. If anything happens, we’ll know the area she could be in,” Jules assured her.

Rue shook her head and stopped in her tracks. Then, she looked between us helplessly before bowing her head and sobbing. Jules and I carefully hugged her and let her cry.

“I’m sorry that I’m scared and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt,” Rue mumbled into my shirt.

“It’s okay, I appreciate it. I really want to meet Tyler, though, and, I promise I will let you know if something happens, okay?”

Rue nodded and sniffled.

It took Jules about an hour to make me look amazing. I had no idea my hair could be so fluffy and put together until she was done with it. She used eyeliner to make eyes look bigger and rounder and added sparkly lip gloss to make my lips look plumper. After she contoured and highlighted the best places she deemed that her work was done. My outfit, a fitted forest green long-sleeve shirt and fitted black pants with Jadons, was also approved by her.

“Tell me everything later!” she insisted.

Rue couldn’t join us since she had “prior commitments” but I texted her that I would let her know when I head to the park and when I leave. My nerves didn’t let me focus on the soccer game my parents insisted I joined them and my brother at. I couldn’t care less that the forward on one team got a yellow card or that the goalie on the other team made illegal blocks. I was practically buzzing with excitement and fear so much that I had to give my pretzel to Y/B/N. Finally, the third quarter arrived and I told my parents that I would meet them at home since I’d promised Lexi that I would help her with some homework.

Lexi wouldn’t mind being used for a lie this one time; it was an emergency.

I tried to practice some calming deep breaths as I walked over to the park. The dark night sky provided a little bit of comfort to my walk. I wondered how different Tyler would look from the picture in my mind. I wondered if he thought I would look any different. Maybe (hopefully) it wouldn’t matter to either of us.

Finally, I reached the park. It was empty, save for the oak trees scattered throughout the lush green scenery that seemed mysterious under the mooonlight. A few benches and wooden tables were around as well, but, Tyler and I had agreed to meet at the fountain which was further in the park. The breathing exercises had to have helped because I felt much more relaxed and I hoped that everything would go all right.

When I got to the fountain, there was a tall person facing it. All I could make out were dark clothes and broad shoulders. I took another deep breath and kept walking.

“This is a nice spot, you have good taste,” I commented.

“I could say the same for you.” I stopped in my tracks as Nate slowly turned to face me. His face was unreadable but his eyes stayed on me.

“What? Wh-where’s Tyler?” I asked, my voice already hoarse.

Nate glanced down at his shoes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to talk to you.”

I shook my head. “No.” My vision got blurry but I could tell that Nate was looking up at me now.

“Just let me explain,” he requested softly.

He took a step towards me and I took two steps back .

“I don’t wanna hear it. This....this is some sick joke to you or something?”

“No, never, Y/N, just listen to me.”

“I don’t want to!” The tears rolled down my cheeks and I swiped at them so hard that I thought I scratched myself. At least I could feel something because my heart felt numb. “You catfished me!”

“I just wanted to talk to you, I really do like you, Y/N. Tyler and I are the same, just different names,” Nate insisted, coming closer.

For some reason, I didn’t move. I didn’t know if it was from emotional exhaustion or stress, but, I let him approach me. I kept shaking my head.

“No,” I hiccuped.

“I wanted to meet you tonight because I was tired of lying. I want to figure this, us, out,” Nate said.

I sniffed. “Us?”

At that moment, I could actually see his face and Nate seemed so hopeful. There was a slight smile on his lips and his eyes seemed light for once. Maybe he wanted there to be an “us”. Maybe, despite all logic, he wanted to talk to me seriously and could not do it offline because of his reputation. Maybe, he was over the on-again-off-again situation with Maddy. Maybe, this was my chance, our chance.

I wiped my face again, mentally cringing at how upset Jules would be for my ruining her masterpiece.

“Yeah, us.” Nate stepped closer to me, gently wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me into his chest.

Gradually, my muscles relaxed and I relished in the feeling of his strong upper body and his warmth. Then, I began to feel pressure on my waist and gasped as it intensified.

“Nate, you’re...squeezing...too hard,” I rasped out.

And he started laughing, no, cackling. As he laughed, his grip tightened and I continued gasping and clawing at everything I could.

“Nate...stop!”

But he kept laughing and squeezing. When he finally released me, I looked up and saw nothing behind his eyes. Everything in me told me to run, but, I knew he could have easily caught up to me.

“I really thought you were smarter than that, Y/N. C’mon, you couldn’t honestly think that I would do all this to be with you,” he sneered.

“So why do it then?” I asked, my voice so small that I could have kicked myself for it.

Nate sighed and folded his arms. “Because you made it so easy and, to ask for a favor.”

“What? That makes no sense,” I argued. “I told you I owed you one that day you gave me a ride!”

“Yeah, well, I needed to make sure that you were available when I needed you.”

“Whatever, screw you,” I hissed as I pivoted on my heel.

“Too late for you, you’re already screwed.” Nate pulled out a folder from inside his jacket pocket. “Remember those special pictures you sent to Tyler? Well, they count as distribution of child pornography, which has a hefty fine and sentence.”

My mouth opened and closed several times before I faced him and responded. “But...but you held them, doesn’t that count towards possession? And, you’re extorting me!”

Nate glowered at me and stormed over. “Heresay, no solid evidence for your case. Plus, I’m a Jacobs, so, who are you kidding?”

I felt so sick to my stomach that I could have thrown up, fainted, or cried at that moment. This was not real, this could not be real.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Like I said, just be available when I need you.”

“Fine.”

“Sorry, what was that?” He gripped my chin his hand and forced me to look up at him.

“Okay,” I said softly.

“Hmm.” His eyes scanned my face before he released me. “And if I ever hear you judging my relationship with Maddy again, these pictures are going to be the least of your concern.”

I nodded weakly, regretting every single thing I ever told him. Nate Jacobs was truly the devil. He wandered off into the night like a centurion leaving a victorious battle. It seemed like he always won.

I managed not to start crying until I was on the empty sidewalk. No, I sobbed so bad that my throat went dry.

How could I have been so stupid? I should have known it was him that day Maddy yelled at him for texting all day.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

My sobs continued as I grabbed my phone and texted Rue.

Y/N: U were right.

#euphoria imagine #nate jacobs imagine

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cheesyficwriter · 3 years

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hey there! I cannot express my love for your work (Isolated and lost in translation were *chef's kiss). Could you please write #75 for Romione? Thank you so much, I hope you have tons of cheese:)

Hi @shybrunettepainter! Thank you so much for reading and for your kind words 💜 what a fun prompt that definitely challenged me a bit! Just to preface, I am not well-versed in Shakespearean language, but I figured neither is Ron, so I definitely channeled him here 😉 hope you enjoy!

Prompt #75 - Speaks in a terrible Shakespearean/Elizabethan style to woo/make the other laugh.

Thee Maketh Me Happy

Hermione closed and locked her trunk, just as a knock on her bedroom door sounded. Hermione grinned and practically ran to open the door, revealing a beaming Ron on the other side. He had just arrived at her parents' home, with his father, to pick her up for a visit to the Burrow. They were two weeks away from starting their sixth year at Hogwarts and Hermione would be staying with the Weasleys for the remainder of the summer.

“Hiya, Hermione!” Her stomach flipped wildly as she took in Ron's appearance. How was it possible that he had grown even taller in the last month or so since she had seen him? Despite the fact that he towered over her, he seemed to be filling out a bit more and she could make out his increasingly muscular frame under his tight shirt.

They stood there awkwardly in the doorway for a mo, both unsure of what to do next, until Ron finally let out a strangled chuckle and opened his arms, inviting her in for a hug. She eagerly wrapped her arms around him tight and sighed.

"I've missed you," she heard him muffle into her hair.

"I've missed you, too."

Ron released his grip on her, but Hermione noticed he didn't step back. "Well, are you all packed and ready to go? Wait...it's you. Of course you are," Ron teased.

Hermione swatted at him but gestured him inside her room. "Yes, I could probably use some help with my trunk."

When she turned around, she found that Ron wasn't listening, instead his eyes were raking curiously across the shelves of books she had lined up against the wall.

"What is Shaks-spar?" Ron inquired as he retrieved a dusty and tattered hardbound book from the shelf.

"It's pronounced Shakespeare."

"Fine, then. What is it?"

"Not what, who. William Shakespeare was an extraordinary muggle playwright and poet, who has written some of the most beautiful works of English literature out there. I mean Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Macbeth…"

"Who's Romeo? Who's Juliet?" Ron asked, confused.

"They’re characters from one of his plays. A tragic love story…"

“Hold on a second, tragic? What’re you doing reading this depressing shite?” Ron wrinkled his nose in disgust, holding out the book at arm's length.

“It’s a work of art, Ron!” Hermione responded, exasperated.

"Yeah, well, not interested if it's intent is to crush my soul."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his theatrics. "I didn't realize you were interested in books."

"Ha, bloody, ha," he stuck out his tongue at her playfully. Hermione couldn't help but smile before pointing to the cover,

“That book contains a list of Shakespeare's most timeless quotes, as well as provides English translation.”

"It's in another language?"

“Shakespearean -- otherwise known as early modern English. Most of the words are still used today in standard English.”

"I bet you a galleon that I can make you laugh with this rubbish." He sent her a challenging smirk that made her weak in the knees. Yet, she firmly held her stance, not willing to give in to the blasphemous retorts spewing out of his mouth.

"It is not rubbish, Ron! It's a work of art!" She repeated, almost stomping her foot in irritation.

"Let's see, then!" Ron cleared his throat dramatically, as he flipped to a random page. He planted his finger on a quote and began reading, "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate." He squinted his eyes at the page he just read from. "What the bloody fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Hermione sighed heavily. Her visit with Ron was going well so far. Sarcasm intended. "It signifies long-lasting love, that goes beyond a single season."

"Then why doesn't he just say that?"

Because it's poetry," Hermione responded curtly through gritted teeth.

He only hummed in response and kept reading. "All that blisters is not gold."

"Glitters. All that glitters is not gold."

"What? That's not what it says!"

"Yes it does. You read it wrong."

Ron pursed his lips as he reviewed the text. "Oh, well, bugger me. Here's another -- what's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet...Rose. That's a pretty name, I guess."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, it is."

They locked eyes for a moment before Ron shook his head and returned to his reading. "Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown...if I had a crown, I'm not sure I would feel uneasy but that's just me…"

Hermione exhaled loudly, clearly fed up with his sarcastic comments. "It's simply saying that being royal comes with a lot of responsibilities and having those responsibilities can be daunting."

"Off with his head!" Ron shouted with vigor.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?"

"Oh Hermione, I know I am. And just to prove my point further, let's see if I can make you blush, yeah?" He flipped to the section with word translations and spent a few moments deciphering, his eyebrows scrunched up adorably.

"Okay, here's one to start with. I like thy...curly hair?" Ron kinked an eyebrow up at her expectantly.

"Acceptable." Hermione remained neutral with her face but secretly gushed inside at how Ron has just outwardly admitted he liked her hair.

Ron's eyes lit up. "Brilliant!" He went on to search for more.

"Uh...thy eyes art like chocolate…do I detect a smidge of color on your face, Miss Granger?" Ron's blue eyes sparkled back at her as he studied her face.

"What? N-no...just keep going!"

"Thee art...the smartest...wench...in the whole land." Ron paused in between words as he checked the book.

"Wench?"

"That's what it says right here!" He pointed to the translation of woman on the page.

Hermione crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, almost daring Ron to try again.

He obviously took the bait as he offered one more, leaning in close, "Thee maketh me happy." Ron smiled brilliantly at her and Hermione thought her heart might possibly explode.

"What are you saying, exactly?" Hermione breathily whispered, not able to contain the flush of pink that crept onto her cheeks.

"Aha!" Ron pointed a finger in her face to triumphantly show victory. He clearly had forgotten her question, so Hermione brushed him off.

"You did not win, you were just standing so ridiculously close to me…"

He looked down at the book one last time before cheekily stating, "The lady doth protests too much, methinks."

"Oh, honestly!"

#romione #writing #love #fanfiction #romione fanfic #ron x hermione #writing prompt #shakespeare

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